Ties of Loyalty

By The Unseen Watcher

Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me. However, I'm still enjoying myself immensely. Don't sue please. I've spent all my money on your products.



Chapter 3

---------------------

(2 days later)


Kenshin sat in a doorway, one foot propped up against a sliding door and one hand absently steadying the weapon against his shoulder.  Quietly, he watched the normal activities of the Dojo. He had long ago finished his chores, his body on automatic while his mind remained in troubled thought.

Something was wrong. The certainty thrummed behind his eyes, jangling along his sensitive awareness in a silent shriek of warning. He knew that it involved him in some way, but he just couldn't make out what or how. The indistinctness of the problem was starting to make him edgy.  The last couple nights had brought neither answers nor rest.

 Eyes narrowing to annoyed slits, he mentally gave up and forced himself to go and join the others.


**That Night**

An occupant of the Kamiya Dojo twisted on his futon, his mind bombarded by images.

*Darkness *Running *Tripping * Cursing * Hide *Need to hide for a while * Regain strength *Then revenge *Teach them what they're messing with *But for now rest *Side hurts *Push past the irritating distraction of pain *Anger *Disgust *Rage. * //WHERE ARE YOU?!//*

Kenshin awoke to find himself against the opposite wall in a defensive stance, his sword drawn and ready.  Images still flashed through his mind. Darkness, pain, and blood mixed in with the feeling of being pursued, hunted. The rage still washed over him like a wave, and he found his lip curling up in a silent snarl as his eyes scanned the room.

Empty, save for him.

He wasn't reassured. This was no dream or delusion. He had been taught to never ignore what his senses told him, especially his warrior instincts. He never dismissed any possibility, no matter how unlikely. This very open-mindedness had been what allowed him to survive as long as he had.

Kenshin closed his eyes, searching for his dream, stalking it like it was of wisp of smoke that would dissolve if he grasped it too tightly. After several long minutes, he let out a breath in exasperation. Nothing. He started to slide down the wall to sit to think a little when . . .

**PAIN! **

Kenshin sprung up as if shot off the floor. He grasped his head and reeled in mental agony as sensations not his own exploded through his senses. *Shapes in the darkness *The light of the moon glinting off a gun's muzzle *My white mantle wrapped tightly around me in an effort to ward off the barbs that stung like insect bites and brought a deadly lethargy to his limbs *

As his mind cleared and the images and feeling faded, Himura Kenshin opened his eyes. Rage of his own making glittered in their slitted depths. Swiftly, he gathered what he needed, then located a scrap of paper and a writing tool. He scribbled a hurried message and was out of the Dojo and on his way by the time it floated down to the discarded quilt.

He made one stop, at the clinic, then was on the next train headed for Kyoto.

****

#Where in this godforsaken country did that guy GO?! # Smith yelled in exasperation. He'd heard that the woods in Japan were delicate and manicured gardens. He had enough scratches and bruises to put to rest that particular lie.

It seemed like they'd been going in circles all day. Only the occasional blood sign gave them any hope that they were getting anywhere.

#You must be patient, Smith. It would not be worth the chase if we found our quarry easily. # Spencer said calmly. Smith glared at the man, in particular at the funny looking gun he kept with him.

#Are you sure those darts of yours are doing the trick? We've caught sight of him twice and I think you managed to hit him both times. You said he'd be out like a light with just one! #

#He is a very stubborn individual. # Spencer answered, unmoved. #My tranquilizers are slowing him down, believe me. #

#Vill you two shut up? I'm trying to listen, please! # Schuster snapped at them, silencing the two bickering men.

*


Hiroshi breathed a sigh of relief. Finally they were quiet. The day had not gone well. He knew these woods, but it was now abundantly clear that their target knew them better. He'd been sure more than once that they had him boxed in, only to close in and find nothing.

His men weren't helping. The old one talked to the others, the situation obviously reminding the old half-wit of dark days gone by.  He whispering horror tales of the Bakumatsu and the deadly ambushes he had heard of. The worst ones were of the Battousai, the Red Demon. One tale he seemed particularly fond of was of how he was once supposed to have gone with a troop of over two dozen men to try and capture him, but had taken ill and had to be left behind. He'd heard later that they had all been killed, each with a single sword stroke. He whimpered as he told this to the increasingly edgy younger yakuza, intensifying their unease to borderline paranoia. They now jumped at every sound, shooting a lot of wildlife and trees with their bows and handguns.

*


#It's no use listenin' for him. The man walks like a caped ghost. # Smith spoke again, shattering the silence. He was sick of waiting around. It was time for some action!

Schuster threw a look of pure venom his way, but the American was unmoved. The man seemed a bit on edge out here. It was unknown country and the demolitionist had nothing to throw his bombs at but trees and rocks. Their prey could be anywhere.

Spencer looked up from his study of the ground. #He went this way. # He said firmly, pointing to the left. All Smith saw was more trees. He sighed.

#Well, let's get going before it gets dark again. # He said, resignedly trudging ahead and keeping his rifle clear of overhanging twigs.

**

A shadowed form peered down at the arguing group from his perch on a sturdy branch of one of the towering trees. His dark blue gi was gone, torn into strips and wrapped tightly around his ribs. His head was finally starting to clear, but slowly. Too slowly. He had stayed ahead of them thus far, and even had they the intelligence to look up, it was doubtful that they'd see him. He had discarded the mantle. Part of its purpose, aside from restraint, was in allowing opponents to see him from a distance, so as to give them fair warning.

He would give no such courtesy to the human refuse below him. His movements were no longer confined by the weighted cloak. They would now face him at his full strength and power.

That is, as soon as this blasted fog cleared from his mind.

Far off in the distance, he heard a songbird call. The wildlife had long ago grown silent at the intrusion of the noisy hunting party, which had been an extra help in warning his muffled senses to their approach.

But this particular bird caught the attention of the man who had lived in this forest for decades. There was a nuance of challenge in its song that should not have been there this late in the year.

*


Hiko found himself smiling in grudging approval. He firmly squashed the sensation of relief he suddenly felt. Patiently, he waited until his pursuers wandered out of hearing range, and replied.

Mere minutes later a small bright-haired shape materialized from the forest, leaping through the canopy, until he came to a stop on the branch beside the larger resident of the tree. Crouching down, violet eyes unable to hide their concern, the newcomer examined the other's battered condition minutely, noting the rough bandages and slightly unfocused gaze.

Their eyes met, and some sort of acknowledgement seemed to pass between them. This was neither the time nor place for personality clashes. They had business to attend to.

Hiko's eyes flicked briefly in the direction the hunters had gone, and Kenshin nodded. He inclined his head, indicating the other's wounds. Hiko shrugged, an action that he immediately regretted.

*


Kenshin made no move to support him, knowing the gesture wouldn't be well received. Instead, he contemplated where to take his master to let him recover a bit from his injured and obviously drugged state. An idea formed and his lips quirked slightly. Getting the larger man's attention, he made a few signals, gesturing to the both of them and jerking his head back toward where he'd come.

Hiko's eyebrow's rose, his expression clearly showing that he thought his former pupil had lost his mind. The redhead simply smiled softly, the darkening of his eyes and their silent promise of pain for those responsible belying the seemingly gentle look.

Hiko rolled his own eyes, but returned the look and didn't protest when Kenshin came to support his uninjured side when he moved to rise. Carefully, they made their way through the trees.

------------------------

HeeHee! I LOVE connections! Oh, if you want more I'd appreciate suggestions on how to torture the bad guys. Types of traps and mental torture specifically.