Chapter 10:

"Another Time And Place"



"No... no, you didn't..." Megumi whispered, shaking her head in disbelief, "you couldn't have... No one on earth would be so sick that they would kill an innocent child!"

"Oh I doubt that, Megumi," Kurotara mused, his eyes glaring at her from their corners, unnerving her, "You'd be surprised at the amount of things people will do if you reward them right. I got lucky this time, though. I didn't even have to pay him anything."

"It doesn't matter who you hired to do this, Suzuki is safe. He's gone. There's no way your killer could've gotten to him," Megumi protested as best she could, every word she spoke scratching at the back of her throat, already agitated and sore, "he's with Kenshin and the others. They're protecting him this very minute so you just wasted your time hiring someone to do your dirty work!"

"You're wrong. You can keep telling yourself that he's safe if it makes you feel better, but we both know that's not true. That son of yours is dead now. No longer alive, no longer breathing, no longer moving," Kurotara murmured, his voice growing louder and louder as he neared the chair she was tied to. Soon he was so close, she could smell the faint alcohol in his breath as he spoke right in front of her face. "Just imagine, you will never see your little boy again. You'll never be able to hold him. Ever. I bet you're wishing you told him you loved him, don't you? Wouldn't you just love to tell him one more time? Just one..."

"SHUT UP!" Megumi cried, "... just... shut up..."

She wanted to kick him, to hurt him, maybe even kill him. And she had every reason to. He had threatened her, her child, everything she had ever cared for in life, and he deserved pain. Her legs were free of restraints, but she had no energy. It already took so much out of her just so she could talk. Tears streamed down her face as millions of tiny flashbacks shone through her mind: Suzuki when he was first born, when he had said his first word, held her hand, hugged her... Megumi closed her eyes.

"He's safe..." she whispered again, more to convince herself rather than convince him, "He's with his father and I'll be damned if Sanosuke would let anyone hurt him."

"But would he let someone hurt you, Sweetheart?" Kurotara snickered, moving closer to cup her chin in the palm of his hand and he knelt down so his nose brushed against the tip of hers. Megumi stared him straight in the eye, fear mixed in with her anger easily read by her captor. "He would protect Suzuki with his life, I'm guessing. Just like you did. But tell me, Megumi, once your son is safe and sound, what will happen to you? Do you really think your old fiancé's going to come back here and save you? Because, we all know just how well he protected you last time, don't we...?"

Megumi bit her lip to try and peel off his sarcastic words from her body. Kurotara, Tetsu, whoever he was, had hit a mark and that mark had been like a hard blow to her stomach. Was Sanosuke coming back for her? Would he still care for her after the way she had acted towards him the other day when she had run away when he said he loved her? Or did he forget about her altogether? Every second and every thought ate away at her like a stray dog to a scrap of meat, tugging at her heart in all directions so it could get to every last bite.

She tried to tell herself that she didn't care and that the only thing that mattered was that Suzuki was unhurt and alive, but God knew, Megumi didn't want to die. Not like this. She wanted to die an old woman, having seen her son grow up and have a child or two of his own, knowing that she lived her life to it's fullest potential, having Sano beside her...

"If he was going to save you, don't you think he would've gotten here already?" Tetsu continued to push further, breathing the painful words into her, his hand gently stroking the hair at the nape of her neck, ignoring the soft whimpers that escaped her throat, "Do you think you'd be here with a killer like me? Don't you think I'd be dead by now? Arrested? Badly beaten? That love of yours isn't coming to save you, just admit it. You'll die happier knowing the truth. He never cared about you. If he did, I wouldn't have been able to do all this to you... If he loved you, he wouldn't have left you all those years ago. Don't you agree, Megumi?"

Megumi choked back a sob. Maybe death blinded you or confused your mind because all so suddenly, everything Tetsu said to her made perfect sense. Maybe it was the lack of air she received or the pounding in her head, or maybe she hurt all over because what he said was true. If Sanosuke did love her... where was he?



Gravel hurt. Loose or not, it burned against Sanosuke's skin as his body slid against the concrete road, halfway from the dojo and the clinic, completely empty of all human life besides him and his opponent. Suzuki was still asleep against the steps of the old hotel, his mind off somewhere far away from the anguish he had been tainted with that day. Sanosuke was glad that he was still asleep; he didn't want Suzuki to see him lying on the ground in such a state as he was.

Sanosuke gritted his teeth as he slammed his fists down into the dirt again, frustrated with the time this fight had already consumed, dust flying about the area where the road markings had once been.

"Cut the bullshit," he spat, turning his face to the side so he could hawk the blood from his mouth onto the floor, "I'm tired of playing around already."

Kyo straightened up his posture. His condition was no better than Sanosuke's. His hair was disheveled, messy, and his fists were covered in blood. It was hard to tell if he was leaning more to the winning or losing side.

Panting, Kyo stood up from the ground, his eyes wandering over the area Sanosuke had fallen that had quickly vanished into thin air with a thrust of his hands. It was the Futae-No-Kiwami, he presumed, the attack he had heard could smash a boulder into dust without so much as cracking a knuckle. The Futae-No-Kiwami was amazing in all it's glory, truly something worthy of belonging to the specter of the streets that corrupted his enemies with the kanji sign scrawled on his back. It was a good trick, very strong, but Sanosuke wasn't the only one with an ultimate attack up his sleeve.

"I'm glad you've finally decided to take this fight seriously," Kyo responded, sliding his right foot behind him to achieve more balance and better speed capacity with his next hit, "'cause I've been serious this entire time."

The wind rustled the dry leaves scattered among the earth, blowing them across the deserted road and causing them to skid across the dusted pavement. A sudden gust flew the batch of red, orange, and yellow leaves up into the air, a signal for the fight to commence and the dead silence was killed by the cries of the men.

Both their eyes narrowed at the same time as Kyo lunged forward with his right fist, flying out into the air like a hawk and it swooped low to connect with Sanosuke's jaw. Sanosuke automatically drew back at the blow, his head snapping upward, but he was quick to jump back before Kyo followed up with a blow to his face. Ducking low to the ground, his knees bent, Sanosuke kicked his leg up on Kyo's left side, making contact with the soft part of his rib cage with his knee. Kyo's mouth flew open in a giant "O" shape as the echo of cracking bones sounded throughout the quiet town and he stumbled back and away as Sanosuke switched back to his fists.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Again and again, his knuckles hit the hard muscles of Kyo's chest, sending him back a step with every blow, his back arching forward from the force of gravity that pulled him toward his competitor and to the ground. Another right. Another left. The ferocious beating stopped when Kyo's hand suddenly grabbed Sanosuke's fist, only centimeters away from his blackened and bruised abdomen and he pushed back at him, causing Sanosuke to lose his footing.

He stumbled, but regained his composure enough to move to the side of Kyo's hard punch, but not enough to dodge the second step of his attack that he had not expected. Kyo's fist whizzed past him, barely skimming his bare skin. The blow had hit nothing, but Sanosuke was still hurt.

Backing up a few steps, Sano held onto his side, feeling the warm liquid of his blood coursing through the cracks of his fingers and he curiously unveiled it, moving his hand away so he could examine the injury. It was an open cut wound, small but deep so that it drew blood from him and he dabbed at the tiny gash, observing the faint color of red that settled into his fingertips with confusion. It was strange, Kyo hadn't hit him, but somehow, he was bleeding.

"It's called Karyu, an attack where you don't really have to hit your opponent to cause them harm. You see, you use up just as much as energy to punch and hit as you do to punch and miss. Because of this, the air force from which you were able to dodge the punch was forced back onto you," Kyo explained, changing his footing to the other side, "you're not the only one with a special attack, you know."

He didn't wait for a response. Kyo charged and while he did this, Sanosuke pretended to be concentrating on how he would maneuver the hit when really, it was just a trick to shadow what he was really thinking. Sanosuke remembered the attack called Karyu, Shouzo had used it on him back when he had gone with Kenshin to fight Shougo Amakusa, the supposed child of God. And besides remembering the name and the consumer of Karyu, Sanosuke also remembered how to move around it.

Kyo's steps were quick, raging forward at an almost unmatchable pace, and Sano readied himself. It was one of the biggest mistakes Kyo had ever made in using Karyu or maybe it was just Sanosuke's plain old luck that had happened to be on his side for once that he knew how the attack would follow through. He was going to allow Kyo to hit him; the punch hit him square in the abdomen, he was going to let him think he had caught him unprepared; Kyo moved his fist forward again, he was going to let him get so close; his fist came forward, and then...

A loud crack was heard, startling the birds the rested atop the nearby trees up into flight, sounding through the ghost-like town. Sanosuke kept his eyes closed as he felt the searing pain from his right fist course through his entire arm. But his hand's injury was nothing compared to Kyo's condition.

Kyo flew backwards on his back side, skidding hard across the ground up, kicking up gravel until his body practically reached the river side's edge. Kyo's eyes were shut but his mouth remained open, obviously in shock but too surprised to scream. The Futae-No-Kiwami, that was something he could've expected, but with the after affects of the blow that didn't hit him, was an all around copy of Karyu. Sanosuke was sure he'd feel the dull ache the next morning. Cuts were displayed all over his chest, his shirt now ripped in multiple slashes, diagonal, horizontal, vertical, all over his barren front. But the biggest thing Kyo would struggle with was the blow that had practically crushed his lungs, the one that had so heavily pressed onto his rib cage that more than half of it had shattered from underneath his skin. Kyo was not dead, Sanosuke knew that, but he doubted he could still live with a reputation as popular as his with his new disability to breathe.

Panting short breaths, thankful that the fight had finally finished, Sanosuke jogged over to where his son still lay asleep and he swiftly pulled the boy into his arms. Suzuki stirred but didn't awaken at the gentle touch, only turned in his father's arms to rest against his bruised shoulder.

It started as a jog but soon moved on to a steady trot, slowly gaining speed with every step that hit the ground. Sanosuke hoped he wasn't too late...



Kurotara Kajima loved the smell of fear and in the residence of the clinic, the scent overwhelmed him. It was everywhere, it lurked in every room, but it solely belonged to one person; Megumi.

None of her was free. Her hands were bound behind her back, circled around the wooden desk chair she had worked in practically her entire time as a doctor in Tokyo, her legs were tied at the ankles, crossed and tight. Her wrists no longer held any feeling and the skin was scratched pink and rough, sprinkled with spots of dried blood. She couldn't struggle anymore, it was just no use. Today was the day that would mark either a new beginning or a fatal end and Megumi wasn't ready for either.

"I suppose it's settled then. I believe I gave more than enough time for those friends of yours to come to your rescue, but it seems as though they're not coming. Surely the Battousai, Sir Ken you call him, right? Surely he couldn't have missed this. I'm starting to wonder if that bomb I sent off to the dojo had anything to do with that..." Kurotara pondered out loud, grinning evilly from under his hand as Megumi head suddenly came up from it's droop to the floor, her mouth agape, "Surprised, are you?"

"You're bluffing!" she countered but her voice came out shaky and uneven. If it weren't for the chair holding her in place, she would have fallen to the floor.

"I'm not," he replied with the shake of his head, his grin growing wider as he took a step forward and Megumi strained in her seat, trying to push it back away from his approaching figure. Kurotara laughed. "Why else do you think they're not here?! They are your friends, aren't they? A bomb or some other kind of obstacle is the only way that they wouldn't get here, right?" Megumi said nothing. "At a loss for words, Sweetheart? That's fine, you don't have to talk. I liked you better when you kept your mouth shut anyway." Steadily he moved, bending over to retrieve something on the floor.

A knife.

Megumi's heartbeat quickened at the sight of the shining blade, her eyes widening and she fought against the restraints of the ropes again, but it was futile; they were too tight. Yet Kurotara didn't move toward her, instead, he bent low to the ground, jabbing the knife into the soft tatami mat underneath her feet until the knife fell in smoothly into an already made hole.

Smiling to himself, Kurotara used the knife to heft up the floorboard and it came off into a huge hunk of reeds in his hands, which he threw across the room in his impatience. Megumi stretched her neck to try and look over his shoulder into what the secret gap under her house contained, but his body blocked her view.

"What are you doing?" she asked, but he paid no heed to her. She repeated herself. "What are you doing?!"

The object in his hands gave her her answer. It was fairly large, shiny, and made of tin. It held inside it the first puzzle piece, one of the things Megumi feared most in the world, the one thing she refused to speak of until only a few mere years ago, the thing that had forged the death of her family. It was oil; highly flammable oil.

Megumi's gasp echoed throughout the entire clinic, bouncing off the thick walls and doorways, repeated soundly in the hallways, and then ricocheting, it was brought straight back to her. Kurotara smiled at her reaction.

"I believe you know what this is, Megumi," Kurotara smiled as he untwisted the cap and threw it in her lap. Megumi batted away at it, thrusting her body every which way to get the wretched thing off her as if it held some kind of poison. She wanted nothing to do with it. "You know just how easily such a simple house hold item could turn into something lethal if used correctly. I'm sure your family knows this as well..."

"No! You sick fuck, let me go!" Megumi shrieked, pulling at her restraints, tugging her arms upward toward the ceiling to try and wriggle free, but the ropes only dug deeper into her skin, scratching more at her already raw flesh, "You're not gonna get away with this! Do you hear me?! You're not! Let me go! You can't escape, they'll all know it was you!"

"Oh, you forget, Megumi, with the name Kurotara Takani, there's no way they'll find me," Kurotara replied, hefting the oil can to rest in the crook of his arm and he lunged the can forward, spilling out long seas of the black liquid over the clinic's walls, "Don't you remember? You signed those marriage papers, Sweetheart."

"What are you talking about?! I didn't sign anything!" Megumi shouted, watching in horror as he continued his rampage around the room, the strong odor of gasoline filling her senses as he circled it in the kitchen and near her feet.

"Oh yes you did!" he called over his shoulder as he scattered more oil, pouring the thick substance over the white curtains of her windows, on top of the wooden furniture and sheets, spraying it even on the ceiling, "You made it all too easy for me, Megumi. You should think twice next time about leaving important papers with your signature on them all over the house. It wasn't very difficult to trace over, you know."

"You... bastard!" Megumi screamed out in frustration, "Let me go! Let me go! Arghhhh! You're not getting away with this! They'll find you and they'll kill you! Be sure of that!"

Kurotara shook his head at her as she continued to screech out into the air, pulling harder at the ropes around her wrists and kicking with whatever energy she had left in her feet before her voice finally died off into sobs and her body leaned forward in the shape of a crescent, shaking. He moved over to her, kneeling down at her feet to look at her lowered face, watching as her lips quivered from her cries and her body trembled from the fear of what he had planned for her future.

Oil covered all the walls, enveloped her with the stale scent, stinging at her brain. It was everywhere. On the tables, the chairs, the patient beds, the doctor's supplies, her clothes. The entire clinic bathed in the strong smelling substance, so rich in oil that you couldn't have told what most things had originally been beforehand. Megumi felt dizzy from the fumes.

"You know what, Sweetheart? There were a few times when I was with you that I didn't find so vile, this being one of them. I'm sure that if the circumstances were different, I really could have fallen in love with you..." Kurotara whispered softly, lifting his grease-covered hand to cup her cheek and Megumi wretched away from him, flinching at his touch as if he were the epitome of all sin. "I am going to enjoy watching every second of your death, but it really is such a shame to put such beauty to waste. Just think, if you weren't such a horrible killer, I wouldn't have to kill you today."

"Get. Away. From. Me." Megumi seethed through her gritted teeth and she cast herself farther from his touch, but Kurotara's hand remained on her cheek and he sighed out loud.

"One thing, I will miss about you, Megumi..." he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheekbone, causing her to jerk away again, but he only slid his hand to cup her chin tighter, "... would be... your... lips..." Slowly, he moved down to her face, rubbing his thumb against her chapped mouth for a few brief moments before he pressed his lips to hers, causing Megumi to lurch back to get as far from him as possible but his other hand held her head in place in front of his, disabling her from moving away. Megumi felt like vomiting.

After the longest two minutes of Megumi's life, he pulled his mouth away from her's, his tongue trailing behind still on her bottom lip, and she abruptly turned her face away, as if his kiss had just written out her death sentence, her tears collecting slowly at the base of her chin.

Kurotara smirked, bringing his hand low into his pocket and his rough fingers slipped around the small packet of matches he had kept just for this occasion and he pulled it from it's home in his trousers.

"For Satomi...," Tetsu, Kurotara, Death, raved as his index finger and thumb pressed the tiny match in between themselves, rising slowly up into the air and swiftly came down onto the sandpaper side of the box, lighting it almost instantly. Megumi's breath caught in her throat as in her eyes, the bright fire was reflected and feared, shining in her pupils like the sun's rays that would awaken her to a new morning. But today, it seemed she had seen her last sunrise.

"Good-bye, Sweetheart."

The match fell, well lit on the once crimson end that would soon turn black as night. It was a small object, no bigger than Megumi's pinky finger, yet somehow it brought out the biggest

threat she could have ever imagined. She watched it fall to the floor, her eyes open as huge as the world itself and it toppled down onto the oil covered tatami mat at her feet. Immediately, the tiny match grew into an open life of blazing flames, all in circles, lines of every kind, surrounding her from every corner. The fire rose up onto the walls, scorching the fabrics and tearing away at the worn edges, browning them. The small table she would always sit and eat meals with Suzuki in had set afire, the iridescent glow of yellow and orange glares practically blinding her.

Soon her eyes began to water as smoke gathered all around her and the flames danced upon the ceiling, rounding off at the corners of the walls and rearing back to the ground. Megumi coughed as the musty air got into her lungs, filming her throat and blackening her sight. She coughed again, this time more viciously as the clean oxygen that had once filled the room died out. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, sliding down her neck onto her back, sticking her more to the solitude of her chair as the fire lapped at her feet like a hungry dog.

Kurotara was nowhere in sight, most likely having left the minute the fire had risen, vanishing into the wind like the ghostly figure of Death he was named in Megumi's mind. Dark gray fog flew up to the ceiling, gathering into thick clouds over the flames that skipped along everything it touched, burning through every obstacle imaginable, scorching holes through every little thing that got too close.

Nothing could hide.

Megumi coughed more blood, spitting it at the fires that approached her in hopes of calming it but there wasn't enough. She spat at it, wringing her wrists around the ropes in her efforts to wriggle free, but it was no use. The fire grew brighter, closer, hotter, and she felt her breath curling in her throat as if confused on where to go.

She was trapped. The world grew faint and blurry as more smoke filled her lungs, drugging her, seducing her into it's spell. Her eyes slowly closed, blocking out the obscene images before her of all her medical files and life's work crumbling into dust, all her belongings mutating into nothing but useless ash. Pictures flashed before her as she felt the hot burn of the fire at her toes, but she did not pull away. She couldn't pull away, she was already gone.



A/N: No, it's not what you think! This ends happy, I swear! Sorry that I have to leave you with yet another cliffhanger. It all depends on how many reviews I get (good ones anyway) that makes me work faster, so... cough, cough review cough, cough ^^