These Changing Times
This fanfic series takes place two years after the Revenge Arc ends, in an alternate RuroKen universe. (Only because I started it well before the manga ended ^_^;;) Eighteen-year-old Makimachi Misao comes to Tokyo to stay with Kenshin and Kaoru... and to put her own troubles behind her. A newly attentive Sagara Sanosuke is more than willing to distract her. Then a certain Oniwabanshuu onmitsu turns up in Tokyo to help investigate a wave of vicious armed robberies sweeping the city...
Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. But be warned: this fic meddles with what seem to be considered the tried-and-true romantic pairings in RuroKen (in case I didn't already make that clear). So if you read further, please be kind and keep an open mind! ^^;;
Note: for those who are new to the language, go to http://home.netcom.com/~sakka/times/glossary.htm to get information on the Japanese terms and expressions used in this chapter.
Chapter 19 -- Reckonings, Part 2
Megumi gently wiped the last of the crusted blood off Misao's face with the damp rag Tatsuya had handed her. "There, Misao-chan... now you look more like yourself, except for those bruises," she said, dropping the soiled cloth back in the basin. The doctor wiped her hands on her smock as she continued gently scolding the unconscious girl. "Really, what were you thinking, fighting that cruel, evil man by yourself? You should have at least brought that baka tori with you... what he lacks in brains, he makes up for in muscle."
Tatsuya couldn't help smiling briefly at Megumi's one-sided dialogue as he tucked the heavy blanket around their patient. "Her temperature seems normal again, Megumi-sensei," he said. "Which means her internal organs are likely undamaged, ne?"
"Probably," Megumi said, frowning as she felt Misao's forehead. "Still, I want to keep an eye on her. If there is anything else wrong with her, it will show up in the next day or so."
"I'll be happy to --" Tatsuya began, but he was interrupted by a low moan from Misao. She shifted, her eyelids flickering open.
"Me... gu... mi... sensei?" she murmured groggily. "Sano?"
Megumi and Tatsuya exchanged worried glances. The doctor rested her hand lightly on Misao's head, saying --
"Misao-chan, please go back to sleep. You need your rest after everything you've been through."
Misao tried to rise, but Tatsuya gently restrained her.
"Listen to Megumi-sensei, Makimachi-san... you're not well..."
A few tears slipped from Misao's eyes as she glanced around the room. "Where's Sano?" she said, her voice trembling with anxiety. "I need to see him... tell him..."
Megumi gritted her teeth. Damn you, Sanosuke, for leaving her right now! But at least I can give her your message...
"Misao-chan," Megumi said, brushing the girl's damp bangs out of her eyes. "Sanosuke isn't here right now. He told me to tell you he's keeping his promise to you."
Misao's reaction was the exact opposite of what Megumi had hoped for. She sat bolt upright, her face contorting in pain, and cried --
"No, no, no! That's not what I wanted at all! He's such an idiot! I have to find him..."
She lurched out of bed... and promptly collapsed on the floor, trembling violently. Megumi muttered something about stubborn, quick-tempered weasels as she and Tatsuya lifted Misao off the floor and put her back into bed.
"You don't understand," Misao sobbed as Megumi tucked the blanket tightly around her again. "Toushi is a killer... he doesn't care... it was bad enough when Aoshi-sama... now Sano, too... it's not fair..."
Misao clenched her eyes and jaw tightly, trying to compose herself. She turned her head away from Megumi's grave, sympathetic face, feeling her tears slip onto the pillow.
Fine... keep your promise. Bring Aoshi-sama back to me, Sano... that way I know you'll come back, too...
.....................
Sano hurdled the doujou's back gate, skidding to a halt by the laundry-tub. His eyes narrowed as he saw a wet, soapy diaper hanging over its edge. Where the hell did Kenshin go? Is something wrong with Jou-chan?
He heard the sound of voices coming from around the front of the doujou. Doesn't sound like the kids... it almost sounds like...
As he rounded the corner of the building, his suspicions were confirmed. Aoshi and Toushi stood facing each other, swords drawn.... and Kenshin stood on the porch, watching them with one hand on the hilt of his sakabatou and a grim look on his face.
Sano approached him warily, waiting until he'd caught Kenshin's eye before hopping up onto the porch. "Well, that was easy," Sano said, pitching his voice so only Kenshin could hear him. "I was gonna ask you to help me track these guys... didn't think they'd end up here."
Kenshin didn't reply. Sano swallowed and continued gamely --
"Been a long time since I've seen you this pissed. That bastard didn't threaten Jou-chan or Kintou, did he?"
"If he had," Kenshin said, keeping his eyes on the swordsmen, "he wouldn't be standing right now."
I forgot how scary he can be, Sano thought, shuddering inwardly. "Right," he said, turning to watch the combatants.
Toushi gritted his teeth against the pain in his abdomen, which was burning and throbbing more intensely with every movement. He could feel fresh blood seeping into the bandages his grandmother had applied to the wound. Che... must have reopened the wound during the Tengeki Kourin. Makimachi Misao... you traitorous bitch... after I've destroyed your okashira, you're next...
Aoshi glanced down at Toushi's stomach. The onmitsu followed Aoshi's gaze, grimacing as he saw a darker stain spreading across the black fabric of his shirt.
"If you surrender now, I'll take you to the clinic to have your wounds treated before you're imprisoned," Aoshi said without changing his defensive stance. "You won't get the same courtesy from the police."
Toushi let loose a short, sarcastic laugh. "What a kind offer," he sneered. "But you should be worrying about yourself, Oniwabanshuu scum."
With that, he charged. Aoshi met his attack easily, deflecting Toushi's flying blades with minimal effort. The wound on Aoshi's chest was long, but shallow enough to be of little consequence. Toushi, on the other hand...
He's losing strength and speed because of that stomach wound. I'd best take the advantage quickly...
Aoshi spun out of the way of Toushi's Onmyou Kousa, then launched himself back at his opponent, aiming for his exposed neck with a Goukou Juuji. But as Aoshi's kodachi scissored toward their target, Toushi flipped one blade over in his hand, using the hilt to block the attack by jamming it into Aoshi's oncoming blades. Toushi then swung his free sword around with all his strength into Aoshi's undefended left arm, growling in satisfaction as he felt the blade slice deeply into flesh and muscle.
Aoshi felt pain for only an instant before his entire arm went numb, his sword sliding out of his useless left hand and clattering to the ground. Heedless of his wound, Aoshi pushed his remaining blade hard against Toushi's upraised hilt, knocking the sword from Toushi's grip, then drove his elbow into Toushi's bleeding stomach. Toushi staggered backward, doubled over, his mouth open in a silent scream of agony. Aoshi danced away from him, breathing heavily, his eyes slits of cold blue fire.
Sano winced as he watched the strike to Aoshi's arm. Shit... that's gotta hurt... and now Shinomori can only use one sword. Might be time for reinforcements...
Sano had barely inched forward when Kenshin extended his arm in front of the street fighter. "Wait," he ordered quietly. "Aoshi is equally skilled with a single kodachi... and his opponent is losing strength. The fight isn't over yet."
Sano grinned down at his friend. "You sound more like yourself now," he said. "I was worried for a minute."
Kenshin smiled slightly as they watched Aoshi point his sword at Toushi, raising it to eye level.
"This is your final chance, Toushi," he said coldly. "Give up now or prepare for death."
Toushi slowly straightened, flicking the blood from his sword as he hissed through clenched teeth --
"Never. I will avenge my father... even if it costs me my life!"
Toushi sprang toward Aoshi as he uttered the last word. Kaiten Kembu Rokuren, Aoshi thought. But his speed's been halved... this may be the perfect time for --
Toushi's eyes widened as his target faded from view... then reappeared in a shifting blur all around him. "What the hell?" he sputtered, his eyes darting wildly. In his confusion, Toushi lowered his kodachi slightly for the space of a heartbeat.
It was more than enough of an opening. Aoshi bared his teeth as he broke from the flowing movement of Ryuusui no Ugoki and slashed his single sword across Toushi's chest with all his might... once... twice... three times in the blink of an eye. Blood sprayed from the wounds as Toushi gasped --
"No... can't lose... to you... now..."
Toushi crumpled to the ground.
Sano let out a long breath, and Kenshin dropped his hand from his sword. "Well done, Aoshi," Kenshin said solemnly as he and Sano jumped down from the porch and approached the wounded okashira.
Aoshi didn't reply. He approached Toushi, studying him carefully. "He's still breathing," he said flatly, his hand tightening around his sword hilt.
"I'm glad," Kenshin said, a subtle note of command in his voice. "I would rather you didn't kill him. Better that he lives to answer to the police for his crimes."
Aoshi paused, then nodded curtly. The three men froze as they heard a faint voice calling Kenshin's name.
"That's Kaoru," Kenshin said, glancing worriedly at Sano.
"Go ahead," the taller man said with a reassuring smile. "I'll make sure things are taken care of here."
"Arigatou, Sano," the red-haired swordsman replied, running toward the back of the building. The street fighter turned to Aoshi, who stood like a statue over his fallen opponent, blood dripping from the fingers of his wounded arm.
"Oi, Shinomori, your arm looks bad," Sano said, moving closer to Aoshi. Sano stopped in his tracks as Aoshi held out his sword to block his path.
"It's fine," he said coldly. "Don't concern yourself with me."
"I couldn't care less about you," Sano retorted hotly. "But I promised Misao I'd bring you back to her... and I'm sure she'd rather you be alive than dead."
Aoshi stared at Sano blankly. "Why?" he asked.
"Eh?"
"Why did you promise Misao that?" Aoshi asked, his brow furrowed.
Sano looked away from Aoshi, studying one of the kodachi lying on the ground near Toushi's crumpled form. Sano bent down to pick it up, brushing the dirt off its hilt, which glimmered in the fading late afternoon light. Misao's kodachi... or one just like it.
Misao...
Sano closed his eyes, dozens of images of Misao filling his mind... her eyes, sparkling with mischief and life... her laughing face as she sparred and teased and flirted with him... the ardent way she returned his kisses, murmuring his name like the sweetest of endearments...
Misao... how can I let you go? I love you...
Sano then recalled her tear-streaked, anguished face as she watched Aoshi leave to follow Toushi. His eyes snapped open resolutely.
But you still love Shinomori... so it's hopeless.
Sano raised his eyes to Aoshi's again, speaking quietly --
"I promised her that because she would've blamed herself had you died in this fight." He looked away from the onmitsu again, adding gruffly --
"And because... for some reason I'll never understand... she still loves you."
Sano watched furtively as Aoshi's ice-blue eyes darkened with a feeling the street fighter couldn't quite put his finger on. So... you do care for her... as much as a cold-blooded asshole like you can care for anybody. Then I've made the right choice... no matter how much it hurts...
Forcing a nonchalant expression, Sano flipped the kodachi over in the air, catching it by its hilt. "I still don't understand what this was all about," Sano said lightly. "What happened between you and this Makimachi Taki guy anyway?"
Aoshi inclined his head slightly as he stared at Sano, considering whether he should bother to answer. I suppose it doesn't really matter if he knows... perhaps he can help Misao understand, when the time comes to tell her...
"After our okashira's death, Makimachi Taki and his mother challenged Okina's decision to appoint me okashira in Okina's place," Aoshi replied. "Makimachi Taki challenged me for the right to head the Oniwabanshuu, and I accepted. We fought, and I defeated him... but as I turned and walked away from him after the fight had ended, my defeated opponent pulled a knife out of his boot and threw it at my head. Hannya saw what Makimachi Taki was up to and knocked me out of the way, suffering a wound to his shoulder as a result."
Aoshi almost smiled as he remembered what Hannya said as Aoshi helped him to his feet...
// I guess I don't need to tell you that you will always have my support... okashira... //
A familiar pang of remorse gripped Aoshi as he remembered Hannya's steadfast loyalty. His voice grew colder as he continued --
"I then banished Makimachi Taki from the Oniwabanshuu... and told him if he ever returned, he would be killed on sight. He protested, appealed to his allies in the Oniwabanshuu to support him. But they turned away, having seen him for what he really was... a cowardly bully without any honor --"
"Liar!"
Sano and Aoshi stared in amazement at Toushi, who had somehow managed to stand again, despite the puddle of blood he'd left on the ground. He brandished his single kodachi, yelling --
"My father wasn't like that! Obaa-san told me... she said he wasn't like that before! You made him that way!"
With impossible speed, he hurled himself at Aoshi. Sano tried to step in front of the wounded okashira, but Aoshi shoved Sano out of the way with his good shoulder. Caught by surprise, Sano tumbled to the ground.
"Don't interfere, Sagara," Aoshi growled as his blade met Toushi's with a resounding clang. This is my fight... and this time I'll end it my way... Himura's nonkilling vow be damned...
Sano scrambled to his feet, his stomach curling as he saw the wild gleam in Toushi's dark eyes. Kuso... they're just like Yukishiro Enishi's eyes... completely insane. His thirst for revenge has pushed him past his body's limits... which makes him even more dangerous now than before...
"Teme," Toushi spat as he launched a series of frenetic close-range attacks. "My father would have led the Oniwabanshuu with pride and honor... but you stole that birthright from him and drove him away from the only family he knew, even as he begged you to show him mercy."
Aoshi's blade chimed continuously as he parried Toushi's blows, breathing hard as he replied between attacks --
"Your father never begged me for anything... it was his allies to whom he directed his pleas. After I banished him, he spat at me and told me he'd sooner die than return to the Oniwabanshuu... and that he would see us all in Hell. I wouldn't classify that as begging for mercy."
"Uruse!" Toushi shouted. He smashed his free fist into Aoshi's jaw, then kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backward. Toushi's eyes glowed red as he leapt into the air, roaring --
"Die, Shinomori! Kaiten Kenbu -- Tengeki Kourin!"
Toushi descended as fast as lightning upon the crouched onmitsu, grinning evilly as he brought his sword down on Aoshi's bowed head... which flickered, then vanished. Toushi growled with frustration as his blade cleaved empty air instead of Aoshi's skull.
"Damn you!" Toushi shrieked, whirling around, his blade flailing harmlessly through the host of Aoshi-images slowly circling him. "Stop hiding behind your fucking Oniwabanshuu tricks and show yourself, you coward!"
"Gladly," Aoshi snarled, materializing directly in front of Toushi and plunging his kodachi through Toushi's stomach, burying it to its hilt. Toushi uttered a gutteral moan, blood bubbling from his mouth. His dark eyes watered as they met Aoshi's fierce, triumphant blue gaze.
"Fucking bastard," Toushi croaked, his voice audible to Aoshi alone. "You think... you've won... but I'll have... my vengeance... yet..."
Toushi's eyes glazed over as he emitted a final, rattling breath, his face frozen forever in a vacant, slack-jawed stare. Aoshi wrenched his sword from Toushi's body, which slumped lifelessly to the ground. The victorious onmitsu calmly wiped his blade clean against his trouser leg, fighting the sudden wave of dizziness that swept over him.
"Che, Shinomori... you're one tough asshole," Sano said with an appreciative grin. "Remind me never to piss you off."
Before Aoshi could stop himself, he retorted --
"You piss me off just by breathing, Sagara."
Sano stared at Aoshi, who punctuated his comeback with a Saitou-like smirk. Sano grinned in response.
"Heh... Toushi must've knocked your brains loose. You're almost acting like a normal guy," he said cheerfully, picking up Toushi's bloody body and throwing it over his shoulder. "C'mon... we'd better get this bastard outta here before Kenshin gets back and kicks your ass for killing on his property."
Aoshi nodded and turned to follow Sano. He made it about halfway to the doujou gate before another flood of disorienting nausea sent him stumbling to his knees. His whole body broke out in a cold sweat as he tried to force his twitching limbs to obey him and move forward. He could barely hear Sanosuke shouting his name, could barely feel the ex-gangster shaking his good shoulder as his body grew numb and distant. As darkness enveloped his mind, Aoshi managed to whisper --
"Sagara... tell Misao... not to cry for me anymore."
Aoshi could hear Misao's laughter, as sweet and clear as the bubbling brook near their home in Kyoto. He sighed, smiling as the blackness fully claimed him --
Yes... be happy... my Misao...
.....................
Misao slowly became aware of a warm hand pressing against her forehead, then her cheeks. She sighed as she felt fingers skimming through her hair, gently stroking it back from her face.
"Sano," she murmured, her eyes fluttering open. "Please tell me it's you."
"Aa," Sano replied with a broad smile, resting his hand against the side of her face. "It's me, kirei."
Misao threw herself into his arms with such force that she nearly knocked Sano over. "Whoa, Misao... careful," he said, his voice rippling with laughter. "You'll break the rest of your ribs if you don't watch it."
"Yokatta," Misao whispered, relief bathing her body like a healing salve. "Sano... I was so worried..."
Sano held her silently for a moment, feeling a bittersweet mixture of pleasure at her concern for him... and regret that he had such grim news to give her.
"I'm fine, Misao," he said. "Shikashi..."
Misao lifted brimming eyes to his, her voice trembling as she asked --
"Aoshi-sama... is... is he... dead?"
"Iya," Sano replied, his eyes somber. "But it looks bad for him. Toushi's blades were poisoned... and the doctors haven't been able to identify the type of poison he used. Even Kenshin and Saitou are stumped... they say it must be a poison known only among onmitsu. You wouldn't happen to know --"
"No," Misao replied miserably, blinking back her tears. "I never learned about poisons. Jiya said there was no place for such dark onmitsu arts in Meiji." Misao took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain it caused her... and fighting to keep her feelings of hopelessness at bay.
"Jiya would know, but he's too far away. He'll never make it in time," she said. "What about Toushi? Surely Saitou can make him tell us..."
"He's dead," Sano said, unable to keep his satisfaction from showing. "It doesn't matter anyway. Believe me, Misao... he would've died before he gave us the antidote. He hated Shinomori the way Yukishiro Enishi hated Kenshin..."
Misao closed her eyes as despair threatened to overwhelm her once more. Dame! I swore I wouldn't let you win, Toushi... there has to be another way...
Misao's eyes flew open. "Of course!" she said aloud. "Sano... where is Unmei-sensei?"
"In a cell at police headquarters... Saitou says she's pretending to be senile to keep from answering their questions," Sano said, frowning as Misao slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Misao, where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I have to see her," Misao said, pausing as she waited for her vision to clear. "She won't talk to them... but she'll talk to me. I'm sure of it..."
"But... your injuries --" Sano protested, falling silent under Misao's ferocious glare.
"I won't just let Aoshi-sama die, Sano," she said fiercely. "If there's the slightest chance I can persuade Unmei-sensei to save him, I have to try. I'd never forgive myself otherwise..."
Sano felt his throat tighten. He looked away from Misao, murmuring --
"You would risk your own safety for him... you love him that much."
Misao's feet touched the floor. She swayed as she took her first step, and Sano reached out to steady her. She gripped his arms tightly, her shining eyes locked on his as she said --
"Hai. I love him that much, Sano... almost as much as I love you."
Misao had a sudden urge to giggle uncontrollably at the dumbstruck look on Sano's face. Gods, how is it possible to feel so happy and so sad at the same time? she wondered guiltily, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"Mou ii," she said firmly. "Sano, get me my clothes and help me get to Unmei-sensei. We haven't a moment to spare."
Sano handed Misao her uniform silently, so deep in thought that he barely registered the fact that Misao had stripped her yukata off in front of him, presenting him with an unimpeded view of her bare rear end before pulling her shorts up.
Can it be true? Or was I just hearing things? She said she loves me... but is she just humoring me to get me to help her save Shinomori? No, Misao isn't devious like that... well, maybe sometimes... but...
"Sano," Misao prompted, her weak voice snapping him out of his trance. She'd made it as far as the doorway before succumbing to another dizzy spell, sinking to her knees, the room spinning crazily.
Without a word, Sano swept her into his arms and carried her out of the room, bracing himself for the inevitable arguments they'd have to face from Megumi and Saitou...
.....................
Misao took a deep, steadying breath as she paused before the door to the cellblock. She looked up at Sano, who had his arm around her for support.
"Misao, promise me you won't get your hopes up," Sano said, dropping his arm from her waist and taking her hands in his. "She was the mastermind behind all this, remember? She hates Shinomori as much as Toushi ever did..."
"I know," she said, squeezing his hands. "Don't worry about me, Sano... I'll be fine. Saitou will be watching... he'll keep Unmei-sensei from pulling any tricks."
Saitou snorted. "For all the good it will do," he said, dropping his cigarette to the floor and stepping on it before taking Misao's elbow.
"Your presence is no longer required, ahou," the inspector said to Sano, smirking as he glared pointedly at Saitou's gloved hand resting in the crook of Misao's bare arm.
"Oi, teme... there's no need for you to touch her," Sano growled.
"Sano," Misao said warningly. Sanosuke pouted as he spun away from them and stomped down the corridor, muttering something about old yellow-eyed wolves needing to keep their paws to themselves.
Misao bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at Sano's ludicrous notion. Her mood grew serious again as Saitou unlocked the cellblock door and slowly escorted her through it. Misao glanced sideways at Saitou's scowling face, still baffled by how readily he had accepted the idea of her speaking with Unmei. It had been Saitou who had silenced the doctors' objections to her plan in his usual blunt, sarcastic manner --
// If any of you have a better idea for saving Shinomori's hide, by all means, share it with us. //
Of course no one had replied. Misao shook her head wonderingly. Never thought I'd see the day when I'd actually be grateful to Saitou for being such a jerk...
Misao yelped as she stumbled over a stone poking up through the dirt floor of the cellblock. Her stomach lurched as Saitou caught her firmly by the waist, stopping her fall but sending sharp stabs of pain through her injured ribs. Misao braced herself for the inevitable cutting remark that would follow.
"Be more careful," Saitou said gruffly, setting her on her feet and taking her elbow again.
Astonished, Misao blurted --
"Why are you being so nice to me? What's in it for you?"
Saitou regarded her with a narrow-eyed frown. "If you need to ask that, then your training has been even more pitiful than I imagined," he scoffed. "And as far as being nice to you... you're mistaking civility for kindness."
"Since when are you civil to anyone?" Misao muttered as they continued walking. They stopped in front of a cell at the end of the corridor. Misao could tell there was someone in the cell, though she couldn't make out any facial features in the dank gloom.
Saitou unlocked the cell door, and opened it, allowing Misao to slip inside. She jumped as Saitou shut the door with a clang behind her, and trembled as she heard the rasp of the lock sliding home. Saitou then struck a match, lighting a lantern that he'd taken down from the far wall, and hung it on a hook in front of Unmei's cell.
Misao blinked in the flickering light, which illuminated Unmei's pale, wrinkled face and vacant eyes. The old woman regarded Misao silently, giving no sign of awareness or recognition.
Saitou emitted a low, malicious chuckle as he said --
"A dozen of my best men have failed to pry that clamshell open. Let's see you try, weasel girl... it should be amusing, if nothing more."
Misao whirled around, an angry retort on her lips... and saw that Saitou had disappeared. She shuddered, knowing that Saitou was hidden somewhere nearby, but still feeling nervous and alone.
"Heh... I believe that Miburo bastard has taken a liking to you, Misao-chan."
Misao turned shocked eyes onto Unmei, whose blank face had suddenly come to life, her black eyes glittering.
"Well, well... a visit from my lovely young granddaughter," Unmei purred, slowly rising to her feet. "This is most unexpected..."
-- End of Chapter 19 --