Title: Hanafubuki
Part 5: Sliding Sideways
AN: To my readers -- You may notice that this is part 5a. It's about
16kbs, and it's not everything that I'd planned on getting into part 5.
The reason why I'm sending it out thus incompleted is that I'm leaving
on the 18th of July for 21 days, and I didn't want to leave Kenshin
blacked out by the river for all this time . I might have been able
to finish the chapter...but the part that's still forthcoming is quite
important, and I didn't want to rush it. Therefore, enjoy this first half
of part 5 and keep your eyes open for the rest of it as well as parts 6
and beyond in mid-August!
--
Daylight fills the sky
A shard of gold against brown
Talking together
--
Part 5a
I awoke to the rich scent of moist dirt. It overwhelmed my senses, smothering my consciousness in a thick haze of decaying vegetation and stale river water. I swallowed hard to keep from vomiting as my mind tried to remember why I lying prone in the mud in the darkness of night? The ground blurred before unfocused eyes, then instantly snapped into focus with jarring clarity. Jiro Otsuka --
Eyes closed against dizziness, I slowly pressed first to my knees, then to my feet. The world dipped to the left, eventually righting itself, and I turned with reluctance, knowing exactly what I'd find behind me but denying the reality with every fiber of my being.
The body had washed halfway out of the river, and the blank eyes stared back at me in accusation. His gaze was as determined in death as it had been in life. A lot of good it did him now.
And half-buried in the mud at his feet lay a curved Japanese blade -- one whose cutting edge was on the inside instead of the outside. I reached for it numbly, pausing only to pass a hand over those dull sightless eyes. It was only after snapping the sakabatou downward in a traditional chiburi motion that I realized why the action felt so unnatural. When I first took up that sword I had vowed never to kill and -- and now, something had gone terribly wrong.
I stared out over the water, mouth hanging slightly open, air whistling softly in and out between dry lips. I had always feared that the taste of blood, its color and unforgettable smell, would hurl me mercilessly back into the hellish nightmare of Kyoto. For eleven years I'd turned away from the past in the hope of creating a better future. But where, if anywhere, was I now? Hitokiri... rurouni... neither sounded right out underneath the stars, those eternal pinpoints of light, the indifferent judges of humanity.
Sharp tendrils of pain radiated from my shoulder and down my back as I wrestled the body from the water. At least it was easy to dig a grave in the soft ground. Sodden clothes stuck stubbornly to clammy skin, and I shivered as the wind skimmed across my back and through my hair. It would be morning soon enough.
When I'd finally completed the grim task, I glanced dourly back across the water's still surface. A cluster of footprints, a fresh scar across the brown earth left by the weight of his body as I'd clutched his arms and staggered backward -- but even as I turned away, further evidence of the night's tragedy glittered tenaciously in the spreading sunrise. I turned to glance over my shoulder once again, eyes inexplicably drawn to the forgotten object.
And as the ephemeral tendrils of the gentle pink dawn washed over the ground and danced lightly upon the water, I picked up the golden hairpin, tucked it into my gi, and slowly started back toward the dojo.
- - - - - - - - - -
"And he didn't tell you where he was going?" The ground had fallen away beneath my feet, gradually shifting into the familiar streets of Tokyo, and walking slowly, I heard the voices before I saw the speakers.
"No, he just said he had something he needed to do alone." Ah, that was Kaoru-dono -- I hardly knew what to tell her. As much as I wished I could, I couldn't conceal the blood on my clothes and in my hair. I would undoubtedly make her worry again.
"That's strange. It's not like Ken-san to just go off like that...was he feeling all right? Perhaps I'd better check him over when he gets back." The two of them were sitting side by side on the dojo step, Kaoru in yellow and Megumi in lavender. A fleeting thought danced lightly in my mind: They seemed at peace with each other for a change... perhaps I should disappear more often?
"Kenshin?!" She jumped up from the step the moment she spotted me, a woven basket half-full of fresh bamboo shoots crashing onto the ground below beside her. "Where have you been? I was so worried --"
I stopped walking to watch her dash across the courtyard, her eyebrows drawn together in concern and eyes slightly damp from relief. But as I stood unmoving by the gate, she skidded to a halt about an arms length from me, her voice trailing off like the last whisper of a dying soul. I could guess the reason. "It's all right, Kaoru-dono," I murmured unconvincingly at last.
Her eyes widened, and it took her an interminably long moment to respond. "K-Kenshin... but... w-what..." For an awkward moment we stood facing each other, neither sure of what to say. Even the insects, it seemed, had broken off their morning gossip to respect the heavy silence. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she seemed to let her concern fall away into air, and before I realize what was happened she'd rushed to close the distance between us.
I tried not to wince as she threw her arms around my neck. Her breath was warm and moist next to my ear, and her fingers pressed gently between my shoulder blades. But my hands were dirty once more, stained red in the moonlight; I couldn't bring myself to touch her.
"Kenshin...you were gone all night, and I didn't know..." She shook her head slightly, eyes squeezed shut. "...where you were. I told myself that you wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye." My knees began to shake from the weight of her body hanging off of my neck, and I reached up to gently remove her arms.
"Kaoru-baka, get off of him. Can't you see he's hurt?" I hadn't heard Megumi approaching but gratefully accepted her help in easing Kaoru-dono back onto the ground. They both stared at me, each wanting to speak her mind but holding back for some reason... and I didn't know what I could offer as reassurance, for anything I said would have been a lie.
And I would have lied willingly to ease the worry around Kaoru's eyes and mouth, to release the tension held in her back and shoulders -- but as she reached up to brush the hair from her face she shook her head, eyes meeting mine. "Don't try and tell me everything's all right, Kenshin, because I can see that it's not. You don't have to talk now. Let's go inside and have Megumi take a look at you. Then later, perhaps..." Under Megumi's watchful gaze she reached forward and gently took my hands in hers.
I couldn't refuse the soft, pleading voice, couldn't turn away with her warm hands in mine. If only she knew that just a few hours ago I had...if only I had the courage to tell her... "Kaoru-dono, I --" There was so much to say, but I didn't know how to begin. Not that it mattered, though, because for a second time in one morning the world began to fade into darkness and I was left with only emptiness.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Damn it! I wonder what happened?" The distant echoing of voices caught the fluttering edge of my consciousness, anchoring me once more to reality. Like beads of water rolling off of a sagging leaf, the words slid elusively through my mind.
"Keep you voice down, you chicken-headed idiot. Do you always have to be so loud?" The second speaker was a woman... Megumi, my mind supplied after a pause. Yes, she and Sanosuke always seemed to be at each other's throats. It was an odd dance that continued day in and day out. I would have had to have been blind not to see them staring at each other when they thought the other's back was turned.
"Kaoru-dono?" My voice was a hoarse whisper, but Megumi heard it instantly and clamped a hand firmly over the mouth of her disgruntled companion. "She just stepped out to get water. She'll be right back." The response was calm, probably meant to be soothing, but my heart beat restlessly, refusing to be placated.
"Oh." I ran my tongue along dry lips, then blinked, squinting against the bright daylight. Something... something wasn't right. At first the walls seemed pressed inward, threatening to collapse on top of me, then a moment later they fled outward, flying further and further away until they were little more than dark specks disappearing into the distance. A moist drop of sweat slid down the side of my face.
"We're working on getting your fever down. Just lie still..." My eyes fell closed, and the silence grew thicker, blanketing the room and pressing down heavily upon my chest. I couldn't breathe --
"Kenshin? It's alright. I'm here now." Piercing through the silence, her voice was like the clear resonance of bells slicing through the morning fog. "Just rest. We're all safe; there's no need to worry."
Sometimes she seemed to anticipate my thoughts even before they formed in my mind... and as I once again drifted off into oblivion, a bemused notion flickered through the encroaching darkness. 'When had I become so predictable...?'
- - - - - - - - - -
"Are you sure you should be up yet?" I knew it be a rhetorical question, for we both knew that if I hadn't been sure, I wouldn't have gotten up. She hovered worriedly at my right elbow, eyes sweeping me from head to toe and back again. "I don't care what you say, Kenshin. I'm not letting you lay one finger on the laundry."
From the look in her eyes I could see that she was serious, and I would have been crazy not to heed her warning. It had been three days since... since that night, and no one had pressed me for details -- they had most likely been bullied into silence by the liberal application of Kaoru-dono's bokken. One day I would have to thank her. Yes, another day. "I wasn't thinking about the laundry-- "
"You can't fool me, Kenshin. Admit it. It did cross your mind, didn't it?" We started drifting away from the step, slowing placing one foot in front of the other. The sun, shining warmly upon our backs, was still rising in the sky, for it was only midmorning.
"I was thinking of other things, actually," I replied softly, glancing downward as we past the small vegetable garden. In the few days I'd been resting it looked as though it'd exploded into a brilliant display of greenery. And as I stared absentmindedly down at the ground, she reached hesitantly for my hand.
"Megumi will yell at me for letting you out of bed without your sling." I could tell she was avoiding the questions she wanted to ask... probably in the hope that I would answer without prompting. Unable to conceal the hopefulness in her eyes, she looked up at me through dark lashes, and surprisingly I smiled.
"If I'm careful and don't pull the stitches then she'll have nothing to complain about, right?" As we neared the small bench, I gently steered her toward it, and she willingly followed my lead. "Kaoru-dono, I wanted to talk with you. I've kept so much to myself for so long -- it's always been easier that way, but we're not strangers anymore... and you, of all people, deserve to know."
She sat like a statue, neither blinking nor breathing, and I was about to hesitantly continue when she suddenly swallowed and whispered lightly, "-- know what, Kenshin?" We were sitting in the shadows beyond the sun's warm embrace. Before I'd been afraid to pull her alongside me into the darkness, but something had changed, and somehow it didn't seem to matter as much anymore.
"...who I am." Yes, she'd caught glimpses of the hitokiri before -- for isolated moments like during the battle against Jin-e -- but I'd always deluded myself into thinking that I could have some sort of control over my past's resurfacing. Now, knowing better, I felt vulnerable, more vulnerable than I'd felt since I'd first been alone those many years ago.
"I was six years old when my parents died. They were taken by one of the plagues that swept across the countryside like fire across dry grasses. There was no one left except the slave traders who followed along in death's wake to pick over the living remains. I suppose I owe my life to them -- ironic, isn't it?..."
- - - - - - - - - -
I lay awake on my futon long after the others had submitted to slumber's sweet embrace. The walls were draped with soft purple shadows, but the night was far from quiet. The voices, so persistent in their accusations, spit angry words from the darkened corners. Battered and exhausted I closed my eyes against the barrage, but the faces were burnt into my mind, welded onto my being by the steamy heat of dripping blood.
Like in my first years with Shishou, I'd indulged myself in wishful naiveté. I had made a vow, a promise to myself and the world in which I lived. I still said the words in my mind, but now they echoed hollowly without meaning. The rich sent of blood was intoxicating, and the bitter aftertaste only a small price to pay for the deep metallic --
My eyes snapped open, and I stared intently at the ceiling, unable to control the thoughts spinning wildly through my mind. With hands clenched into white-knuckled fists I shifted, and something sharp jabbed unexpectedly into my skin. Then I remembered. No worse for wear from its change in ownership, the golden hairpin lay heavily against my chest, rising up and down with each shallow breath.
I had lost control of my actions, my thoughts, my balance -- and the world tilted dangerously, first in one direction and then in the other. I was hitokiri and rurouni; I was both, I was neither. I was a candle with no control over the brightness of its flame. I was unsure of who I was becoming.
end of part 5a
- - - - - - - - - -
Note 1: Yes, if you haven't figured it out already I'm leaving and I won't be
back for quite a bit. I'm going to write while I'm away (hopefully), and feel
free to email me as well -- just keep in mind that if I don't respond for awhile
it doesn't mean that I don't like you g! I always write back to everyone...
patience is a virtue. Have a fantastic summer everyone.
- Mir (07.16.2001)
Note 2: Another day, another revision. I'm gradually working my way through
these chapters with an eye toward actually finishing this story this year.
There's something about unfinished work that just hangs over my head
somehow. Not that I should care, really... but it's just been sort of eating at
me for, oh, the last seven years or so.
- Mir (06.17.2008)
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