Resurrections and Rainbows
Chapter 5 - A Part
of Us (Part One)
Until
this point, worry and misgiving in the Kenshingumi's minds were few and far
between. Besides the sudden appearance
of Cronos and Cerberus, Kaoru's collapse, and Sanosuke and Yahiko's initial
misgivings about Kenshin leaving, they had remained quite and out of Cronos',
and the Honoo no Satsujin's, plans. This,
it was seemingly destined, wouldn't last for long.
Kammiya
Kaoru had been rustling in her sleep for several hours, and both Sano and
Yahiko had been more than content to let her rustle. They paid little, if any attention to her as
she churned about, her sheets and bed cast away forcefully, as the rivers of
glistening sweat around her body continued to pour forth. Her sleep was dreamless, yet something still
haunted her, a nagging piece of angst that protruded in the back of her
mind. In the deep recesses of sleep, she
had no idea just what it was, however, and because of this, it continued to
torture her.
Finally,
as the sun was waning, and the water of the afternoon's rain was evaporating,
Kaoru awoke. Her head, dizzy and
confused, peered around the dimly lit room, and a rumbling in her stomach
caused her a few tense moments of anguish. She slowly arose from the floor, and began to wonder where her student,
Sanosuke, and Kenshin all were, and why none of them had bothered to wake her
from her lengthy nap. She rearranged her
futon, clothes and hair, and then opened the door to the main hallway. It was empty. She went on down the curving corridor, expecting to hear someone. Instead, her nose was assaulted by the smell
of cooking rice and fish, both of which were wafting pleasantly from the
kitchen. She headed towards the
delightful scent.
As
she approached, she could hear Sanosuke's voice humming slowly to a tune she
had no recollection of. As she turned
the corner and gaped into the kitchen, she witnessed the black-haired man, his
sleeves rolled up, cooking the rice with expert precision, and continuing to
buzz the strange song from his throat. Though this caught Kaoru slightly off guard, she could never have
prepared for the other sight that caught her view within the small room. Yahiko sat, on a stool, near the stove,
watching the fish cook slowly, and he seemed to be actually enjoying it! Kaoru stood there, dumbfounded.
"Sano,
how much longer till it's ready?" The young boy asked, not even the slightest bit of annoyance in his
voice.
"It
won't be too much longer. We've got to
hurry, cook this and then eat it, before Jo-chan wakes up. If we're lucky she won't even smell the
leftovers."
Ah, Kaoru thought, the true intentions of the young men coming clearer with
every second, so they are merely working
together to go against me. Well they
have another thing coming. "Too
late," she said, just loud enough for the two men to hear it over the
cooking food.
Both
of them shot straight up, but neither of them dared to turn around to face the
sound of the voice. "You didn't
hear that, did you?" Sano asked of
his younger sibling.
"I
really, really, really hope
not," was the frightened reply.
"You
did," Kaoru shot in their direction, her fists slowly clenching at her
side.
Both
of the men continued to stare straight ahead, out the wooden window in front of
them, and out into the last glimmering rays of sunlight that streamed
inside. "Should we run?" Yahiko asked, his voice full of pride.
"No,
we'll take it like men. Or try, at
least."
Slowly,
with as much grace as they could manage, the two turned and faced Kaoru, their
mouths formed into forced smiles. "Hi," they both said, simultaneously.
Kaoru
said nothing; she merely trampled forward, pushed both of them out of the way,
and began to set herself up a meal. They're lucky I'm this hungry. If I wasn't… Her mind gradually drifted
into the various methods of torture and pain she could concoct. Sano, and Yahiko, scared practically to
death, both took small portions of food, and were ready to sprint out of the
room, when Kaoru shouted out, "Wait!" Both halted themselves in their tracks, their hearts racing, and turned
to face Kaoru. "Where's
Kenshin?" She asked.
Neither
said a word, neither even looked at the other, they merely stood there facing
Kaoru like she had yet to speak. She
finished swallowing her food, and then shot up, pounding the table, to ask the
question again, when Yahiko snapped. "Ok, ok I'll tell! Don't
hurt me!"
"No,
you fool!" Sanosuke shouted back,
grabbing Yahiko by the arm, and staring, fearfully, into the boy's eyes. "We can't tell her, you know that!"
"Let
go of me!" Yahiko shouted back, his
voice now full of its usual rage. Gone
was the camaraderie with Sano that had formed during Kaoru's absence. "Kenshin told us what to tell her, damnit! It'll be fine."
"Are
you stupid? She'll kill us when she
finds out we let him go---" Sanosuke stopped, realizing his own stupidity.
"Go?" Kaoru asked shrilly, her need to know
overriding her immediate anger. "Go
where? With whom?"
"You
tell her," Yahiko nudged Sanosuke.
"No,
you tell her."
"No,
you!"
"No,
you!" Sano roared back,
"You're the one who told her he left."
Kaoru
walked forward, grabbed both men by the collar, and with seemingly in-human
strength, pulled them off the ground. "Where did he go?"
Sano
gulped, his eyes wide in fear, as he replied, "With that man, Cronos,"
he answered.
"Yeah,"
Yahiko added, "Kenshin, Aoshi and that guy all left before
Kaoru
dropped them both onto the floor, where they tried to regain their injured
composure. "Kenshin," Kaoru
stood still, trying to form coherent thought in her suddenly jumbled mind. "Kenshin," she said again, quieter.
"We
tried to get him to stay, but he was pretty determined. He didn't even want us to come," Yahiko
entered, though he wasn't sure Kaoru heard him at all.
The
young woman lowered her eyes, thinking of nothing but how she could bring
Kenshin back. Why did he leave, now, when everything was so perfect? Kenshin, you fool.
"He
told us to tell you he'd be back quickly, like tomorrow or so."
Kaoru
paid no attention to her student's words, merely exiting the kitchen with as
much haste as she could manage, and heading towards the door, as if Kenshin
would be waiting for her there. Though
even she realized the futility of such thoughts, deep down, she hoped it would
be true. Of course, it was not.
The
gate to the dojo was tightly closed, damp from the mid-afternoon rain, and
nobody had touched it since Yahiko and Sano shut it closed after Kenshin's
departure. She walked up to the wooden
frame slowly, and placed her hand on it, using the other one to shield her
watery, tired eyes. She pulled the hand
away from the door, and brought it to her face as well; she was surprised, and
pleased: it smelt fresh, rejuvenated, and beautiful; it smelt of Kenshin.
"Kaoru,"
the sound of Yahiko's voice startled the woman, who wiped away her forming
tears, then rested her head on the door, breathing quickly. "It'll be alright, Kenshin was sure of
it."
We came back Kenshin, together, to
"Then
do you want to come inside and eat supper with us? We were just joking before, you know. We were going to wake you up."
Kaoru
smiled, forcefully, but smiled nonetheless, and turned around to face her
pupil, "Sure, sure. You moron, you
think I'm going to fall for that? You
guys better not even touch a morsel till I'm full, you hear?"
The
two headed inside, and continued on, "I can't speak for Sano, but I'm not
even really that hungry." Kaoru
smiled again, thanks Yahiko, but even your small attempts aren't enough
to cheer me up. Only Kenshin can do
that.
They
entered the kitchen and found Sano, his mouth completely full, and a piece of
fish being pushed into his half-opened jaw. He made some sound, almost like a dog whimpering, before Kaoru nailed
him in the head with a well-placed fist and sent him to the floor, food forcing
its way down his throat.
The
three went on eating in silence, each left to their own thoughts. Though Sano had already had his fill, he
continued to eat, almost socially, as the sun continued to burn its path down
the darkening skies. When they had
finished, Kaoru went to her room, and Yahiko went to practice in the main hall,
while Sano sat on the porch-steps and looked into the sky, chewing on his
toothpick.
You better come back, Kenshin. Otherwise, I'm going to have to go looking
for your ass. And I think we all
remember how that worked out last time. Sanosuke smiled sheepishly, as the first twinkling
shone out and caught his eye. The sun
was setting.
Damnit Kenshin, you better hurry up and
get back here. You promised me that as
soon as Kaoru says I'm ready, you'd train with me. Before you know it, I'll be shoving that
Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu straight up your ass! Yahiko grinned, dreaming his
moment of victory, as he had every time since beginning the Kammiya Kasshin
Ryu. The boy was forced to light a few
candles to aid his sight, as the room was becoming increasingly dark. The sun
is setting.
Kenshin. It
was the only word she could think of, the only word she dared conjure at that
failingly possessive moment. Kenshin. Kaoru lay on the floor, again, looking up, into the dark dreary mat of
night within her room. The sun was
setting, but she could've cared less; all she cared for was the one thing she
couldn't have at that moment in time: security. She was scared, and she didn't know why, which almost scared her much
more than the fear itself.
As
all three of the occupants of the dojo were thinking though, there came a knock
on the huge dojo walls. They all turned,
and all shot towards the door at exactly the same time. Their hopes were identical, but when they
reached the door, it was almost as if they were afraid to open it. None of them moved for several seconds, till
again the knock rang out, vibrating through the still night air.
Finally
Yahiko moved forward, and slid the door open. They all stared forward, straight to where Kenshin's face should be, would be, they hoped. But as the gate was swung wide, there was
only an empty mass of air where the old Rurouni's face was supposed to be. Their hearts sank, their arms dropped, but
their eyes remained locked in that position of nothingness. "Hmph…HMPH!" Came a loud cough from in front of them, and
almost instantly their eyes turned downwards, and onto the guest who had come
knocking.
"Misao-chan!" They all shouted out together, suddenly
feeling altogether ignorant with their vacant stare.
Misao
stepped forward, and quickly hugged Kaoru tightly, as though she were mirroring
the Sensei's worried thoughts. "Kaoru-chan," she replied, whispering softly.
"Misao,"
Yahiko asked tenaciously, "what are you doing here?"
Misao
and Kaoru parted, slowly, and Misao replied in a worried tone, "Aoshi-sama
is gone. He disappeared from the temple
a couple days ago, and hasn't been seen since. I thought he might've come here."
All
three of the host's heads fell at the same time, as the sudden rush of joy at
seeing their friend was quickly overcome by the long-standing feeling of dread
that stole its way into their hearts. None of them spoke a word, and Misao grew impatient. She asked again, "Well, did he come
here? Is he here?"
Finally
Sano took it upon himself to break the news to her, "He was here. He and Kenshin left, near
Sano
let his hand fall, figuring it was doing little good, and then slowly Kaoru moved
beside Misao and brought her inside, helping to hide the shuddering of her
shoulders as tears of hopelessness, anger, and fear ran their way down her
cheeks. Kaoru felt the young girl's
pain, though she could think of nothing to do to remedy it; if she had, she
would've undoubtedly used the cure on herself.
Everyone
headed inside, and Kaoru prepared some tea, as she had a feeling the four of
them would be doing some talking for hours into the expanding night. Misao, her clothes dirty and worn from the
trip to
"I
came all the way from
"Same
with Kenshin. He's been happier since we
came back to
"Like
something burning?" Misao cut
in. Kaoru nodded, her eyes asking the
question for her, "Yeah, I smelt it too, when I was on the way here. It was disgusting, but it almost smelt…
familiar."
"Yeah,
it was so strange…" Kaoru paused for a second, before looking into Misao's
eyes, gently searching for something inside them, before letting the worry in
her own heart pour to the surface. "I think Kenshin, he… he, was almost in the smell. I can't
describe it. It's almost like there was
something in the smell that reminded me of Kenshin."
"How
can that be though?" Misao
exclaimed, almost frightened, "That smell was disgusting."
"I
know, but…" Kaoru's eyes wandered away, and she quickly felt more tears
coming in at the side of them.
"Kaoru-chan,"
Misao motioned, leaning forward and tightly hugging the older woman. "Don't worry; we'll work this out
together. For Aoshi-sama, and
Himura-sama. I promise you."
"Thank
you, Misao-chan," Kaoru answered, returning the hug with a thankful tone.
The
two young women quickly turned out the remaining lights in the house, and then
went to sleep. Neither paid much
attention to the swirling wind that carried itself above the roof of the dojo,
but it paid very close attention to them, catching each word, each phrase in
its pit-less clutches. It also blew by
the doors of the dojo, and swept into its arms another scent, that of a warrior
whose heart was at home, but whose body walked the dark corridors of the
foothills. The wind swept on about, and
then passed, leaving in silence the four young residents of the Kammiya dojo.
*
* *
"Cronos, come over here for a
little."
A month had passed for Cronos and Zeus
since the boy had begun his training, and in that time, the two's relationship
had blossomed. Father-to-son,
brother-to-brother, comrade-to-comrade, student-to-teacher… none of these
descriptions fitted what the two were for each other. They rarely spoke, except when Zeus gave
orders, or while they ate their lengthy and filling suppers, yet they both felt
as if they had been in conversations so deep, so heart-telling that they would
often know what the other would say, before they said it. This, in the strict world of martial arts
training, was quite uncommon.
"What is it,
Zeus-sensei?" Cronos asked, meekly,
wiping sweat from his drenched brow and looking up to Zeus, who stood on a
batch of rocks near the edge of the plateau.
His master said nothing in reply,
continuing to perch atop the flat-faced rocks, looking out into the steadily
falling sky as his eyes dancing about the lights of the night, which were
coming out in peering patches. His face
was twisted into a mixed flood of surprise and excitement, like the sky had
something special for him that day; as if it carried something he had never
seen before. A few seconds passed before
Zeus had made any sort of movement, and when he did, it was almost overcome
with childish enthusiasm. "Come
here Cronos! Climb up here, quick!"
Cronos sheathed his practice sword
away, then followed his master's commands, climbing the slowly sloping rocks
and standing beside his sensei as he approached the white-haired man. When Zeus made no movement or sound, Cronos
merely looked out into the sky with him, gazing at the frigid yet beautiful
collages of purple, green, and orange. Breathtaking, perhaps, but Cronos had seen many nightfall's like this
one, and it failed to capture his eye.
Zeus, however, was completely
enthralled, and even as minutes turned past, he said nothing to his student,
and merely stared upwards, as the moon began to caress the darkness of the
twilight. Finally, as his patience began
to fade, Cronos asked, "What is it, Zeus-sensei?"
"Oh!" Zeus replied, whipping his head around to
face Cronos, obviously forgetting he had called him over at all. "Yes, Cronos, look, up there," he
pointed towards a patch of sparkling stars to the left of the moon, "You
see that brightly shining star there? It's actually a planet, named Ares."
Cronos, picking up on his master's
excitement, gawked at the indicated space, and quickly replied, "You mean
that one that looks purple?"
"Yes, yes. That is the planet Ares, or Mars, if you
wish, the closest neighbour to Earth. It's the closest thing the wind will never touch." The two continued to stare at the fixture, as
it twinkled through the layers of atmosphere that covered the Earth. "The air, Cronos, gets thinner the
higher up you go. That's part of the
reason why I train you so high up, so that you will learn how to breathe with
less air. That will make you stronger in
the long run. Up there though," he
paused, "the air is non-existent. The wind will never reach that far, it can't."
Cronos continued to look on, but
regarded Zeus' comments for a second, and before long he sheepishly asked,
"Zeus-sensei, you talk about the wind sometimes, almost like its
alive. It's almost as if it were a part
of you, or something."
Zeus smiled broadly, and then turned to
face Cronos, his voice quite peaceful and reassuring when he spoke. "That's because, in a sense, it
is."
"What?"
Zeus just continued to smile, and,
placing a hand on Cronos' shoulder, led the small boy back down the rocks,
speaking slowly, explaining carefully. "Well, you see, the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito is one of four of the
most powerful type of Budos in
"But what does that have to do
with the wind?"
"The wind is at the essence of the
Tengoku o Mamoru Hito. Originally, it
was merely formed to move like the wind, flowing and quick, but in time it grew
closer and closer to actually mimicking the very movements of the wind, till
eventually it reached the level that you and I use, where the wind, and the
master of the Budo, move as one, constant object."
"So you mean we learn to use the
wind to our advantage or something?"
"No, much more than that. We use
the wind to do our bidding. We control
it, and use it to hasten our movements, add more power to our swords, and even
shape it into weapons against our opponents. The wind, in the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, is a weapon, and a saviour, that
stands at our side, and helps us whenever we need it."
"But… but, how?"
"That, my young apprentice, is
something you'll have to determine for yourself." They came to a stop, in front of a small
patch of dirt that served as a place for Cronos to practice his footwork. It was well worn, and the coming of fall
promised the grass that had populated there would not be returning any time
soon. "There will be a moment,
Cronos, where your life will balance on being able to use the wind. If you can use it, you'll survive, and go on. If not, you will die. By that time, you will have to have gained
the trust of the wind, and you will have to trust it in return."
Cronos shook his head, his entire mind
confused beyond belief. "What do
you mean? When is this going to
happen?"
"I honestly cannot say. It's different for everyone. I was faced by it when I was about three
years older than you. It usually occurs
quite early in your life, but you don't have to worry; if you pay attention to
me, and do your best, the wind will be there for you."
Cronos said nothing, but looked down at
the ground, as a gentle brush of wind blew at his ankles. "Did he just cause that?" Cronos asked himself, barely even saying the
words. "Can Zeus really control the
wind like he says?"
"What was that?" Zeus asked, leaning in to hear Cronos' voice.
"Oh, nothing," was the quaint
reply, Cronos flashing a reluctant smile in the face of his uncertainty. "If it's alright with you, Zeus-sensei,
I'd like to finish perfecting that sword stroke you taught me today."
Zeus rose back up to his full height,
smiling, and then nodded, "By all means. I'll be inside preparing a late supper. Come in when you're ready." With that, the old man turned abruptly, and the cape which he wore on occasion
was suddenly caught by a gust of wind, causing it to flap and whip about in the
air; a disrupting yin to the opaque quietness' yang. Cronos went back to his training, absolving
his mind of the words his master had spoken, and concentrating on his downward
stroke.
His master, however, was deeply
concentrating on the very words he had spoken. He had tried to remember how his
master had explained it to him, all those years ago, yet he could not, no
matter how hard he tried. He deemed
that, like many things in Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, this was one he had to make up
as he went along. Though he was
naturally a poor teacher, Cronos was an excellent student, and the two
augmented each other well. He wondered
if it was the same for his onetime Sensei, Uranus; but the only memories he had
of that old, withered, powerful man were of a vast sea of knowledge, and an
imposable way of dispensing it.
A kind of strange mist was lowering its
way into the valley of a plateau that the two warriors called home, and it
altogether carried a bizarre smell, almost incomprehensible. A veil of fog rested itself over the two, and
Cronos was quickly forced indoors. They
ate another rich, flavourful meal, this time including some rare chicken, which
Zeus seemed to have an ample supply of, though it was fairly rare in Japan
cuisine. After that, they headed to bed,
content in the holds of a wind-charred sleep.
Nearly across the nation, a young man,
barely 18 years old, with a cross-scar on his cheek, and a Sakaba sword at his
side, rested in the alleyway of an empty inn, un-able to pay for a room, and
unwilling to do the only thing he was truly good at. He figured, right then and there, that he
would need another job, besides Rurouni. The smell of a fresh-cooking substance, somewhat like fish, caught his
nose, and a thought suddenly entered his mind. The next day, Himura Kenshin began to learn to cook.
* * *
The road was getting narrower and narrower all
around Kenshin, Aoshi, and Cronos; the trees were steadily thinning but yet the
road grew only leaner as they progressed. They were by then in the highest of the foothills, and the mountains
took up nearly their entire view. They
had slept the night before, all three tired and distraught by the battle with
the Honoo no Satsujin the afternoon previous. With nothing but the dim light of the moon to guide them, their tired
bodies could not go on. Aoshi, in
particular, had been left tired to the bone, and had welcomed sleep warmly; the
remembrance of the dreams from the night before not even entering his
mind. It should have; for they came
again that night, as they did for Cronos and Kenshin, as well. Neither said a word as they awoke the morning
after, yet all felt the dream residing within one another. Kenshin could almost smell the blood that had
been pouring out from his stomach.
They had set off at daybreak, yet they made little
progress; the tiny road giving no heed to rise or fall of the hills, or of the
steadily increasing rocky structure of the path. The road merely went on and on, and the only
movement was of the wind, at their backs, and the sun, glaring on into their
eyes. They stopped for a short while,
after nearly hours of trudging on, and Cronos offered a small breakfast, from a
pouch he had concealed within his gi the day before. They ate solemnly, Aoshi and Kenshin
wondering just how long it would take before they finally reached their
destination, both quietly pondering the thought that there was no destination
at all. They finished, and then headed
on out.
The walking on continued for several hours, always
moving at the same slow, steady pace, despite Cronos' random urges to push
forward. In the back of his mind, he was
fearful of another ambush from the Honoo no Satsujin, and he was heavily
doubting the strength of Kenshin after the tiring battle of the day before, and
he worried even more so about Aoshi.
Finally, after the sun had passed the halfway mark
across the sky, Cronos led them away from the path, and into a small tunnel in
the thin forest around them. They
occasionally had to push thorns, bothersome branches and the like away from
their path, but for the most part they paid no attention. Then the path started to go deceivingly
upwards, and as their stomachs rumbled, their hearts dropped, as the path seemed
to continue with no end. The sun meekly
poured paltry amounts of light on their path, but for the most part the shade
of the trees cut off any hope of light. They wandered, blindly following in Cronos' lead, till finally, some
time after they had last eaten, they came to a clearing.
"Wow," Kenshin stammered, as he looked
upon the sun-baked, grassy field before him. They had arrived at Cronos' home, the vast, high plateau that he resided
on, and trained on, for most of his life.
"This is it," he said, almost cheerfully,
"welcome to my humble abode." He walked forward, as the sounds of birds chirping carried their way
through the air. Kenshin and Aoshi
slowly followed, awe-bound in the sheer enormity of this caveat away from
society. Mountains bordered on every
edge except for the forest they had come from, and yet this place was flat as
possible, and grassy to no bounds, almost as though the high altitude the
plateau resided in paid no attention to life-physics. All three made their way to a small cabin,
log-built, where the smell of fish made its presence known; their stomachs
rumbled even louder. "Sensei!" Cronos
shouted out, his arms wrapped around his stomach, as it turned painfully. "Where's supper?"
A tall, visible, darkly clothed figure came around
the side of the house, and into the three traveller's view. The man was old, with long white hair, a
cragged, determined face, and a resilient, powerful posture. He waved towards the three, and then replied
with a yell even more powerful than Cronos'. "It's ready, just waiting for you guys to come here."
Kenshin jogged up to Cronos' side, and asked,
"Who is that, Cronos?"
"That's my master, my teacher,
Zeus-sensei. He's the current inheritor
of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito."
"Ah," Kenshin replied consciously, before
falling back next to Aoshi and explaining it to the third man as well. They all made their way to the small house,
as Zeus walked back inside, smoke pouring out of the chimney, and then being
whisked away by the bowels of the wind. The smell of warm, freshly cooked fish was so powerful Aoshi and Kenshin
almost bowled Cronos over to reach it. As they entered the sun-lit house, Zeus was preparing the meal, and
unsurprisingly, he had set it up for four. Kenshin and Aoshi, strangely enough, didn't even utter a question, nor
have one enter their minds, as they sat down and ate. Questions, they had picked up on, were less
important than good food.
They ate, quickly, hungrily, till there was nothing
but a few bones and a small portion of sake left. Kenshin nearly toppled over in
fulfilment. Zeus and Cronos quickly
cleared the area, then shut the door and partially covered the windows; the
mood for conversation hurriedly being set.
"Well," Zeus began, powerfully (which seemed
the only tone his voice was capable of), nodding towards his two guests,
"I'm guessing you two have some questions which Cronos didn't answer. Feel free to ask away. I'm sure he introduced me
though."
Kenshin cleared his throat, as Aoshi quietly sipped
the leftover sake and watched with peering eyes. "He did," the Rurouni answered,
"and he also told us about the Honoo no Satsujin." Zeus nodded, his face now serious and his
eyes matching Aoshi's slitted stare. "But the one thing he didn't really explain was why you two are
fighting the Honoo no Satsujin, and why they're so bent on destroying the
Meiji."
Zeus breathed gently, and then began to answer, all
three others looking towards him, "They fight, because they believe
they're saving Japan. We believe they are hurting
it." The old man paused for a
second, closing his eyes as he spoke deeply, "Back when the four groups
dedicated to saving Japan were created, they were given the specific instructions
to leave Japan alone until it needed them. It was also given the order to save and spare as much Japanese life as
possible. This was the reason we allowed
the Meiji revolution to occur, since the Shogun had failed to save life, and
was falling apart. Now though, the Honoo
no Satsujin are planning to kill thousands of lives to merely restore the very ideals
that were failing the people of
Kenshin looked at the closed, rigid eyes of Zeus,
and almost felt the shining white light that was shattering its way from
out of them. With the clamp of the
eyelid intact however, they were merely another man's eyes, shut to the windows
of reality. "And," Kenshin
prompted, hoping to pull the man's eyes open.
"And," Zeus continued, his eyelids unyielding,
"as for why they are so determined to destroy the Meiji --- that is much
harder to answer. The Honoo no Satsujin,
almost twenty-five years ago, broke one of the most important rules of the four
groups; the idea of 'One Master, One Student'. Those twenty-five years ago, the inheritor of the Honoo no Satsujin came
upon a pair of twin babies, one boy, one girl, and decided to take both of them
as his students. Now though, those two
young babies have grown up and have taken on, not one student, not even one
student each; instead they've taken on ten students in total. This absolutely desecrates the ideals of the
original Honoo no Satsujin, and it poses a much greater risk for the society of
Japan."
Zeus' eyes now opened wide, but they were merely
the same black, sparkling orbs they had been before; Kenshin was nearly
disappointed. "And you need us,
Aoshi-san and I, to help you fight this legion of new recruits, correct?"
"Yes," the old man agreed, "we need
you two, possibly the strongest left in Japan, to fight, and win."
Aoshi put down his sake, quietly, and spoke up,
"I will."
All the others turned their heads towards the
black-haired man, surprised at his sudden answer to a question not even
asked. "What?" Kenshin enquired, below quietly.
"I will fight for you, against these men,
Zeus-san." Aoshi's voice left
nothing to chance, and his meaning was clear. He wanted to fight this fight. He needed to.
"Aoshi-san," Kenshin replied, almost
aghast, "you're sure about this, already?"
"Yes," Aoshi answered, "I am. When you went to fight Shishio, Kenshin, did
you hesitate?" He paused, but
expected no answer, "Did you stop and wonder, when you already knew what
was right? No, of course not. You acted. You acted for those people like Kammiya, and Sagara, and that little
boy, Yahiko. You did what you needed
to."
"I did," Kenshin answered, quiet yet full
of pride at the same time. "I
did."
"Then I will act too, for those kind of
people." In the back of his mind, a
fuzzy vision of a young, spirited girl nagged at Aoshi's heart.
The words spoken, the eyes said the rest needed,
and Kenshin was quickly the only one left to decide his fate. He decided on one final question, "Why
us, though? Why do you need us,
specifically, to fight?"
"I didn't choose you, Kenshin, something else
did," Zeus' voice was again raised, but not powerfully so, merely to a
level that ensured confidence. "The
dream," he said, "the dream chose you." Kenshin eyed the old man carefully, looking,
as he had with Cronos, for some sort of lie, some deceit that he was so used to
picking up in people. And, as he had
with Cronos, found none.
"You think it was a coincidence we all had the
same dream, at the same time?" Zeus
went on, "Of course not. Something
above you, above me, above this whole thing; something chose us to fight these
men. Something chose us, in this
room, to save
Kenshin turned his gaze away from the man, away
from Cronos, away from even Aoshi. He
looked at the ground, and a million thoughts passed through his mind. They contained many feelings: they doubted,
they hated, they loved, but the one thing they all felt was wonder, and that
wonder could not be fulfilled by anything but an "I will," he
answered, his eyes slowly rising up, fire burning inside the cool blue spheres.
Zeus and Cronos both smiled, and Aoshi was secretly
pleased as well. "Good!" Zeus astounded, standing up and placing his
hand on Cronos' shoulder. "Then we
begin training you for this battle right away. I will train you, Aoshi, and Kenshin will be trained by my own student
here," he patted Cronos' shoulder, "You won't regret this
decision."
I
even wonder if I made it at all, Kenshin asked himself, or if that was decided
upon by this "thing" as well. All four rose, and headed outside, a culling, probing wind sweeping
itself around the two new fighters, digging into their souls, and then even
deeper still.
* * *
"A
month," Okeda said to himself, glumly, "how things can change in a
month."
He
was standing in front of the restaurant he now despised with every fibre in his
body, and loathsomely looked back on the past month, in his own, unique
way. "That couple, those
foul-smelling pair in front of the inn that one day, that's where it all
started." A gentle and sighing
brush of fish-scented air stroked his nostrils, teasing them gently. "From there, it just got generally
worse," he sighed, "what with my little daughter's, Euiko-chan's,
illness, and all. Not to mention the
fact that this place is virtually dead a hundred percent of the time," he
shoved a lacklustre kick into the wall of the restaurant, "and that Seru
hasn't talked to me even the slightest since I left that one day…"
These,
in the world of a man with few thoughts, were problems rarely encountered, and
to deal with them would take intellect far beyond his level. He didn't mind though, in a strange way, they
gave his mind something to contemplate over during the boring recesses of
work. "Damn nation," he
muttered, giving the wall another swift kick.
The
hours seemed to pass by slowly, and even as a trickle of customers came in and
out, Okeda's mind was locked on nothing but his own problems, his own faults
and frailties. The sun quickly set, and
a rare thought of recollection passed through his mind.
"Perhaps,
this is merely meant to be. Maybe this
was determined to be a test for me, a way of proving myself. Maybe fate resolved this for me."
The
thought didn't comfort him, as he wasn't quite sure he was up to the challenge,
but a scapegoat as tempting and easy as fate was not something a man like Okeda
could pass up. In the quickly changing
world of twists and turns, Okeda could be counted on as a standing force of
neutrality.
Night
came, and Okeda left with little conscious thought seeping about, as he blindly
and slowly walked his way through the curves of the streets. He reached his empty, quiet house, checked in
on his sick daughter, who was sleeping fitfully, and then headed to sleep on
the floor in the main living room, his wife having kicked him out of their room
several nights previous.
He
lay down on the floor, and stared up at the roof, not tired in the least, yet
feeling he'd need rest for the upcoming days, which would undoubtedly be full
of stress. "I can't go on like
this," he whispered, to himself, willing the words from somewhere deeper
than his sub-consciousness, "I can't." He would, though, even he knew he would. Even so, he wanted nothing more than to wake
up the next morning and see all of his life's problems gone. He would persist though, even if he felt he
could not.
A
kind, gentle, soothing shot of air came from across the skies of Japan, a
nation teetering on the brink of a new era; an era one more month in the making
than it had been since events began to unfold. This wind, it carried on, and it would not stop, not for anything or
anyone. It was a wind of something
persistent, something deeper and more powerful than any kind before; it was the
wind of the heavens. It swept by a young
boy's face, as he slept in a small cabin, and it blew the scent of cooking fish
by the nose of a young warrior's heart. And also on that night, it was a calm reminder to a twenty-something old
man, that he would persevere. Okeda
slept well that night.