Whew. Sorry kiddies. Things have been just hectic with the holidays. Had to deal with finals first of all, drive through the snow to Illinois to get to my great-grandmother's, and pulled a muscle in my back shoveling that damn snow. I've neglected my fanfic duties, and I deserve a sound beating for it. Forgive me. Hope you guys don't mind the random flashes of memory in the end here. And I leave it at a cliffhanger. Quite frankly, I'm tired and I don't want to write some big dramatic showdown while I'm tired. So wait until next time and I'll try to wrap it up soon. Thanks for hanging in there with me.
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BLADE OF THE PAST
Chapter 16
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Sano rang the bell and bent his head in a last prayer for luck. This was his favorite shrine, one of his most visited when he gambled regularly. He figured this shrine was sufficient when a life was hanging in the balance as well. The sun was barely over the watery horizon, and he'd had no word of Shinta's mother's health. He prayed for the best.
He was about to turn and leave the shrine, to head back down the steps and to the streets of Tokyo when he heard the shuffle of footsteps. Uneasy footsteps. Most likely a drunk from last night, coming to the shrine for a nap. Sano growled low in his throat. No drunk was going to deface his favorite gambling shrine. He turned around to chase the vagabond off.
And he met the vision of a frail woman, holding hard on the rail near the shrine and swaying in the slight morning breeze like a reed. The light blue kimono he recognized as Kaoru's. So why in hell was she out here?
"Oi, aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he called.
She glared at him, her weak appearance not diminishing the strong gleam of her eyes. Her hand tightened on the rail, and she stood a little taller.
Belatedly, Sano realized that she had never seen him before, being unconscious during all the times that Sano had been around. He held up a hand to ward off any attacks. Any woman that lived through a spearing by the Battousai must be a force to be reckoned with.
"I'm Sagara Sanosuke," he offered. "A friend of Kenshin's. I was there last night when he took you to Dr. Gensai's. I forgot that you wouldn't recognize me."
Her eyes softened. She breathed easier and slumped.
"As I said, shouldn't you be in bed?"
She looked up at him, shaking her head in the negative and turning back toward the shrine. Sano watched as she crawled under the rail, walked onto the dias, and pulled down the two swords that rested on the shrine's offering.
"Um, isn't that stealing?" Sano asked.
She shook her head again, reaching into a hidden area behind the offering table and pulling out two more swords, these more ornate and having golden sheaths. She placed them on the offering stand, and she put the original two swords through the tie of her kimono.
"Ah, I see. Hid your swords here last night, so ol' Saitou wouldn't get them. Very smart," Sano agreed, nodding his approval.
She graced him with a weak smile.
"Time to go home. I'm sure Kenshin and Kaoru have breakfast ready by now…"
The woman was shaking her head, backing away from Sano and about to disappear in the woods beside the shrine.
"Wait a minute," he called. To his surprise, she stopped. "You never told me your name."
He hadn't missed the black ribbon she kept wrapped around her neck. And he had been paying attention when Shinta told them that she'd never been able to speak a word. He'd heard Saitou's recount of pulling the sword from her neck and burying her with it on the battlefield. He knew full well that she was mute.
And she seemed to know it. She frowned at him. But seeing as he wouldn't budge until she answered, she knelt in the dirt by the shrine, using her finger to write.
Zhinu, it said. He thought it was Chinese. And it sure wasn't what Kenshin had called her last night. That's what Saitou had called her though. Sano wasn't surprised that she went by several names. Kenshin had several, after all.
"No, that's not your real name," Sano told her.
She ran her fingers over the kanji and wrote more. Sano didn't recognize anything about what she was writing except for the fact that it was foreign. He tried to memorize the strokes though, the lines of the words she was creating in the sand and dirt. Zhinu got to her feet, looking as if she were about to leave.
"Wait, you can't go yet," Sano tried to stop her. She hesitated for a moment before she brought something out of the folds of her kimono. A slip of paper rolled into a small scroll, so small it could be mistaken for a cigarette. Sano took it from her.
By the time he looked up, she was gone.
He had a feeling that she'd left without telling anyone. And he had a very big feeling that Kenshin would be very angry to learn that Sano had not stopped her. He dragged back to the dojo, meeting the sounds of Kaoru's shouting and absolute chaos inside.
Shinta came to consciousness slowly. He hadn't slept that well in a long time. He'd dreamt that his mother was beside him, that she was warm and holding him. He'd dreamt so many wondrous things that he'd regretted waking.
But he woke to a strange room, on a strange bed. The fact that he was on a bed was strange enough to alarm him. He didn't recognize the walls, or the ceiling, or the folding of blankets and clothes in the corner. Shinta jumped to his feet.
The futon under his bare feet was warm, telling him that at least part of his dream was real. This was that man's bedroom. His mother had been sleeping here, and since her part of the blankets was still warm, she mustn't have been gone for very long. Shinta straightened his borrowed clothes and crept out of the bedroom, not knowing if anyone was awake or if he were even welcome to be wandering around.
Someone was in the kitchen, that much was certain. He remembered his mother cooking when he was younger. Perhaps it was she.
Shinta was quite disappointed to find that man in the kitchen rather than his mother. He seemed happy, Shinta noticed. Shinta wondered where his mother was.
Kenshin turned around to face him before Shinta even had the chance to announce his presence.
"Good morning to you Shinta, that it is. A wonderful morning." The man smiled, not at all looking like a fearsome and horrid hitokiri. Then again, his mother was good and kind, not a violent manslayer either. Shinta shook his head. He wouldn't like this man. He just wouldn't.
"Where is my mother?" he asked, crossing his arms and trying very hard not to notice how familiar this man moved around the kitchen. He moved efficiently, like a well-choreographed dance. No step or movement of his fingers was wasted. This man moved like his mother.
"Asleep," the man replied. "Did you sleep well, Shinta?"
"Yes," Shinta found himself answering the man's questions and being polite despite his best attempts to remain rude to him. But something caught his attention. "Asleep where?" he asked. Did his mother move to the doctor's house?
The man turned from the cooking rice. His face was curious, guarded, and fearful. "In the bedroom, where you slept?" He asked and stated the answer at the same time, wanting confirmation.
"She was not there when I awoke," Shinta said, a dread feeling making his heart beat faster and feel colder all at the same time.
Kenshin ran from the kitchen, rushing by Shinta so quickly that he only felt the brush of air as the man went passed. He followed sluggishly in his wake, making for the bedroom he'd just left.
The man was standing there, his mouth slightly opened as he gazed around the room.
"I was only gone for a few moments," he whispered.
"Did she leave us?" Shinta asked, fear creeping into him unheeded and making his voice sound higher and frail.
"She must have…"
"Where is she?" Shinta asked, pulling on Kenshin's sleeve.
Kenshin shook his head slowly.
"Where is she?" Shinta repeated louder.
"Where is her master?"
"Saku?"
Kenshin looked down at Shinta, waiting.
Shinta tried to remember. He'd been beaten that night, the men enjoying the fact that his mother had been gone for so long. They'd teased him, told him that she wasn't coming back for him and that he'd be left there forever. They'd thought he'd passed out, but Shinta was awake. He listened to their conversations outside his room. They talked about his mother returning to Japan soon, going to Tokyo. They talked about her killing the Battousai when she got there. They talked about Master Saku going to Tokyo himself in order to meet her, for this job was a particularly difficult one. He was going to use his yakuza connections to get her undercover during the police investigation.
"Master Saku is here, with the yakuza. He was to meet my mother after her success."
Kenshin nodded, turning to leave the room. Shinta's hand still holding onto his sleeve stopped him.
"What is it, Shinta?'
"Did you love my mother?" he asked. It suddenly became important to him, to know that his father loved his mother.
"I did, and I still do," Kenshin's soft voice told him. He put a hand on Shinta's shoulder. "I would die to protect her. Or you," he added. His father slipped away then, as quietly and quickly as his mother often did.
I would die to protect… the word echoed through Shinta's head as he made his way back to the kitchen, to see that the rice didn't burn. He knew that his mother would have told him that when she was allowed to visit, if she could speak.
"KENSHIN HIMURA!" she screamed, using his full name and the full volume of her voice. No doubt half of the neighborhood was awake now. And he had meant to leave quietly.
Kenshin stopped, his hand on the gate of the dojo, about to go after Isa when Kaoru called. He turned, pleading with his posture and his eyes for her to let him go. Now was not the time for her to get defensive. He had a date with the local yakuza and one man named Saku, after all.
"Miss Kaoru, please, you'll wake the city, that you will."
"Don't pull that crap with me, Kenshin. I'm not going to let you leave here without a word!" Kaoru was dressed to fight, already wearing her workout clothes and holding a bokken in her hand. She could get dressed impressively fast when the mood struck her.
"Miss Kaoru, please…"
"Stop, Kenshin. You aren't leaving without me."
Shinta was standing on the porch, looking lost. Kenshin noticed Yahiko hurrying to tie his clothes as he ran with his own wooden sword clamped between his teeth. He murmured something unintelligible as he came closer, and Kenshin only guessed that it was something to the effect of, "You aren't leaving without me, either!"
Thank goodness Sano chose that exact moment to return.
"Um, Kenshin, she's gone," he announced, looking sheepish.
"Yes, and I'm going to find her…" Kenshin paused for a moment, considering. "How did you know?"
"Saw her back at the shrine. She'd hid her swords there. Called herself Zhinu, I think," Sano recounted.
"Her assassin's name, and her name as a slave," Kenshin growled. He was less than thrilled to be reminded of her past. So many bad things had happened, so many things he'd wished he could erase…
"A slave?" Kaoru asked, butting in. She was good at that, Kenshin idly noted. "A slave girl from a far away land who fought back against her masters and became a samurai?"
Kenshin blinked. The story. He'd told the story to Ayame and Suzame just yesterday. Of course Kaoru would remember and recognize it.
"Yes," he admitted. This, however, was not the time to reminisce. Time was very valuable when his recently-poisoned lover was wandering the streets of Tokyo and about to attack her former master. No matter how great Isabelle had been when they were younger during the Revolution, she was recovering and in no shape to take on yakuza thugs by herself.
"She gave me this," Sano said, interrupting Kenshin's thoughts. "I don't think she expected me to be there, so she must have written it before and decided against leaving it then changed her mind. You know how women are, changing their minds all the time…" that earned him a whack on the head from Kaoru… "but I have a question for you first, Kenshin."
Kenshin glared and tried to remain patient. Now was not the time for questions!
Sano bent down, his finger tracing lines into the sand of the street. "What does it say?" he asked when he was finished.
He stared at the letters. She'd taught him how to read and write once. In Spanish. That was her home language, and it was beautiful when she spoke it to him and sang him to sleep with it at night. He blinked. "Isabelle," Kenshin read.
"Her name?" Sano asked.
"Yes, that it is."
"Good then." Sano stood up and handed a small roll of paper to Kenshin. "Here's what she gave me."
Kenshin tucked it away. He would look at it later. Now, he wanted to find her.
"Please," he said to Sano. "Stay here with Kaoru and Yahiko. Look after Shinta."
Sano looked indecisive a moment, and Kenshin thought briefly that he might ignore his plea and follow him regardless. But then Sano took a firm hold of Kaoru's elbow, to her disgust, and gave Kenshin a nod.
"We won't follow you."
He entertained the idea of asking Saitou for help. The police officer was more than miffed at having to relinquish Isa's arrested status, once the Chief had stepped in and favored with Kenshin's idea of finding the man behind the assassin and not just the assassin. For that very reason, Kenshin thought it better to leave Hajime Saitou out of this situation.
Besides, Kenshin knew where several local yakuza strongholds were. It wouldn't take much to find which one his Isa was in. He walked down the streets purposefully, looking like he was simply going to market rather than searching for hidden evil men.
His search was made easier when he spotted the dead bodies lying halfway in the street at the doorway of the Ice Blossom brothel.
Kenshin stole inside, frowning at the blood that pooled on the polished wooden floor. He hadn't seen blood in a long time. And he hadn't caused any of it in even longer. Was he losing his edge? He hoped not. But his promise to live as a non-killer was in memory of his first love, not Isa. She made no such vow to save lives.
He knelt by one of them, inspecting the body. Still warm. Blood still flowed from severed flesh. A very recent killing.
***Flash of Memory***
Kenshin stalked through the snow, coming nearer to the dark house of the Revolution leader he was supposed to protect. Word had filtered down from higher ranks – this man was targeted for assassination. Kenshin hoped he wasn't too late.
Snow crunched as he walked out of the trees and into the garden surrounding the home. Men's bodies were strewn about, dark patches of limbs and shadows among the white of the snow. Red soaked the ground all around them, splattered and pouring. It was still now.
Flakes fell fat and heavy from the sky, covering over the bodies and robbing them of their last remnants of heat. It filled in holes of footprints. It erased the battle that had taken place here. He was too late. These men had been dead for at least half an hour.
***End Flash***
Leaving the unnamed yakuza man behind, he turned to assess the first floor of the brothel. A brothel was a bad place to engage Isa in battle, he knew. She had far too many bad memories of such places, and she had always been one to use her anger to her best advantage. Isa could let her anger flow through her like adrenalin, increasing her strength and the speed of her reflexes rather than letting it fog her judgment like it did for most fighters.
A few bodies were scattered around the first floor of the brothel. Most seemed concentrated near the stairs, and Kenshin knew that battle had been engaged up there as well. He stepped politely over another nameless dead body, continuing his way upstairs.
***Flash***
The amount of bodies in the garden were incomparable to the amount inside the house. Kenshin felt his eyes widen. Had one person done all this? He could have, easily. But he had the Hiten Mitsurugi on his side.
The smell of metallic blood hung heavily in the air. He could see his breath even inside, because of all the broken walls and windows. Because there were no fires for warmth. He would burn the place, if there were no survivors.
A noise from upstairs.
Kenshin hurried to the stairs, reaching down to close the eyes of one of his fallen comrades. He hadn't known the man's name, but he'd seen him before on other missions. Kenshin knew he had a family, a wife. It made Kenshin ache somewhere deep in his chest to even think about it.
***End Flash***
There weren't any noises from upstairs as he climbed. More bodies on the stairs made for slow going. He didn't like stepping on dead men. Some of the positions looked like the men had been thrown down from the second floor.
Kenshin hurried, jumping the last few steps and landing gracefully on the floor above.
He thought he heard something.
***Flash***
He was up the stairs as quickly as it would have taken a normal man to walk three steps. Kenshin ducked as a blade sliced through the air where his head had been merely moments before.
His sword was drawn and blocking another swing from the blade before his attacker expected, as obvious from the startled step back he took. The assassin recovered admirably quickly, standing with feet spread and both hands firm on his sword.
Kenshin couldn't recognize the stance. He didn't know this style. It didn't matter. He slid his own sword back into its sheath, ready for a battle.
***End Flash***
The girl let out a startled yelp at his sudden appearance. Kenshin managed to blush and look extremely embarrassed as he mumbled an apology.
"Where are they?" he asked the girl, his eyes roaming away from her and searching for danger as she pulled her kimono hastily closed about her.
She didn't answer out loud, but pointed down the hallway. More dead bodies lined the walls, littered the floor.
When Kenshin turned around to thank the brothel girl for her help, she had already fainted from the sight of so much blood.
Kenshin left bloody footprints as he walked down the hallway in search of Saku and Isa.
***Flash***
The assassin rushed, tired. Kenshin recognized the slight weary hitch in his charge. Kenshin drew, his blade flashing in the dim night as it arced through the air. Only a lucky dodge by the assassin saved his life.
But that dodge caused him to lose his step, sending him face-first to the ground. He cut his left forearm with his own blade as he put his hands down to stop his fall. Kenshin pressed his advantage.
His blade again flashed brilliant blue as it moved through the dark. He would have cut the assassin in half, separating the lower part of his body from the upper, if he hadn't had seen the assassin's face.
The assassin turned, trying to sweep his sword along the floor and slice Kenshin's feet. When he turned, Kenshin saw his face. And Kenshin realized, it wasn't his face at all! It was a woman!
And not just any woman. She was the woman from last winter. One year ago. When he'd killed Tomoe…
"You!" Two voices sounded at the same time.
***End Flash***
Kenshin pushed open doors as he searched down the hallways. Nothing but dead bodies. He opened the last door.
Empty.
Had he gone the wrong direction?
***Flash***
Her own blade stopped, just like his. Both of them seemed controlled by something else, something other than the revolution and orders. A respect for each other.
Kenshin held a hand down, and remarkably, she took it. She stood in front of him, all of fifteen years old and looking just as proud and peaceful as when he last saw her. She was tired now, drained of energy, but she was still filled with something that made her seem taller. She was beautiful.
His mouth felt suddenly dry.
"You've come to exact revenge?" she asked, her hand slipping out of his. She leaned on her sword like a cane.
"Revenge?" Kenshin looked around at the dead. "I came to stop the assassination. Is Fujimai dead?"
"Yes."
Kenshin sighed. "Then I have no purpose here. I was not told to avenge the dead, or to kill you. Just to save Fujimai from assassination." He sheathed his sword.
Tension eased from her body, and she leaned against a nearby column. "Sorry to make you fail," she said, a small wisp of a smile playing on her mouth that was so similar to Tomoe's.
Kenshin ached again.
He tried to distract himself. Looking around, his eyes lighted on her sword. There was something…odd…about the way it glittered in the darkness. Like it wasn't a normal sword. Reaching out, he took it from her loose grasp. It was odd. The katana blade was sharp on both sides.
"I learned in China, you know. They use broadswords, sharp on both sides like that. But those are too heavy, too long for me. A sharpened katana works nicely though," she said.
"And what style do you use? I don't recognize it." Kenshin handed the sword back, and she quickly sheathed it.
"I taught myself, from watching. There is no style." She pushed away from the column, standing up straight and starting down the stairs. "My story is long, and sad," she added, looking up over her shoulder at him.
The significance of walking away and showing her back to him was not lost. It showed trust. It showed respect. It showed she remembered that Tomoe hadn't killed him. She remembered that Tomoe had loved him once, no matter how his blood-soaked soul had not deserved it.
This girl had killed Fujimai. She was an assassin for the Shogunate. But she was not his enemy. No matter what side they were on in this Revolution, Kenshin knew he could not fight her.
She had nearly made it to the bottom of the stairs before his voice called out after her.
"If your story is long, I have until morning."
***End Flash***
Sounds from outside caught his attention. Sounds of the ringing of metal swords clashing. Sounds of battle.
Kenshin jumped out the window, landing on the roof of the building next door.
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One more chapter I think. Hope you guys did mind my big long vacation from writing. Don't flame me for it.