Tales of the Mitsurugi Dragon: Shadow of Shadows
By: Hitokiri Gentatsu
Author's Note: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Sadly, he belongs to someone else. Now, on with the story of the Hitokiri Battousai's adventures. Please feel free to review when you are finished. ^_^x
Chapter Two: Shadow Hidden
"The boy's soul will be ruined by this work…"
Takasugi Shinsaka
Tsuioku Hen
Kenshin woke with a start, feeling the sun's light warming his face. Something had awakened him but, as he looked around the room, he saw nothing. He stood up slowly and stretched the kinks out of his back, his eyes still sweeping the empty and silent room. He shook out his clothing, straightening the wrinkles and swept a hand through his hair, adjusting the high ponytail slightly. Then he slide his katana through his obi and was making ready to leave the room when a flash of movement outside caught his attention.
Without opening the window any farther, Kenshin peered cautiously outside. The street below him was silent for once and the river flashed silver where it was touched by the sun. He watched the glittering water below, the sun highlighting his hair in flame while the rest of his face remained in shadow. He continued to stare out the window, oblivious to anything else but the memories it stirred within his heart. He saw the river near Hiko's mountain home; its swift but hidden current always a danger and he wondered what Hiko was doing right now. A longing to see his master again swept over him but he knew that he could never do so, not in this lifetime. Then he had an image of the past, from the time he was still happy and when happiness was a simple matter of food, shelter and loving-kindness.
~The water under his feet was slightly cold, but Shinta didn't mind the cold, all he wanted was to take a little break from his chore of weeding the field. His father had given him permission to rest when he saw how tired his only son was. Shinta had wandered away from the fields, then, to the stream that sparkled invitingly some distance away. It seemed to be calling him and he could use it to wash the mud from his feet.
He smiled, feeling the current pushing against his feet like a living thing. It had been made stronger and swifter with the recent heavy rains. He gazed up and down the river and flung his arms out to better steady himself against the rush of the current, feeling happy he was alive and well. He had been ill not two weeks past with an odd fever that had left him weak and unable to do anything for himself. His mother had made him drink a remedy that the herb woman said would ease his discomfort. After a few days he was well again and demanding to be allowed outside to play in a voice only a five year old could muster.
"Shinta-chan?" His sister's voice floated to him across the field. "Mama is looking for you."
Shinta shaded his eyes and saw Makako running toward him as fast as her kimono would allow her to. He splashed out of the waters of the stream and went to greet her, a sense of almost overwhelming happiness in his heart. ~
He blinked his eyes and his vision disappeared to be replaced with the sparkling waters of the canal and street in Kyoto. He shook his head to clear it of the memories but found that his mind would not allow this.
Back then; it had been such a simple matter to be happy and content. To be loved and adored by people who were closer to him than anyone would or could ever be again. His family had loved him for who he was, not what he could do, and they sought to protect him from the harsh realities of life, even during their last days together. The strange fever he had had at age five somehow prevented him from contracting the cholera that slowly took the lives of everyone he had known.
His first brush with death came at the tender age of seven as he watched both of his parents and the entire village where he lived succumb to the disease that never touched him. Makako, unable to stand by and watch the other villagers suffer, had donned men's clothing and had left to seek out the doctor who lived in the next village many days journey from their own. She had promised to return to him soon but she never did. He supposed she must be dead as well. He was left the only survivor of the plague and angered by his inability to do anything to save the lives of his family and friends. It was almost a relief to go with the slavers and leave behind the village of death that symbolized his failure. The slavers were not kind men but anything was preferable to living among the dead
He shook his head to clear it of the memories that had no place in his current life and went downstairs to the kitchens for some food, though he would probably not taste it anymore then he could taste the sake he used to fortify himself before a kill.
"Blood is everywhere now, even in the food I eat. How long can I survive like this?"
The girls in the kitchen scrambled to get him a meal and they smiled at him but he did not feel like smiling back.
"Arigato, Midori-san," he said softly as he sat down to eat in stony silence, his face a hard, impassive mask.
Midori's smile faded and she returned to her work without another glace at the sad-eyed young man.
Kenshin did not notice her sad eyes and continued to eat as if nothing bothered him. After the meal he walked down the corridor, toward the back gate of the inn, intent on escaping the place for the day when he ran into Iizuka there. Kenshin frowned and his body tensed up, his heart painfully contracting in his chest.
"Not another black envelope so soon," he thought in a panic. He still needed time to recover from the last job.
"Katsura-san wants to speak with you," was all Iizuka said.
Relief flood through Kenshin and he nodded, falling into step behind the taller man. "Is he here then?"
"No, he's at the Choshu headquarters. I'm to escort you there," he replied without turning around, a strange half-smirk curving his lips.
Kenshin followed Iizuka down the rest of the corridor and, after retrieving his footwear; he followed the man outside the inn. The sun was shining brightly overhead and its light seemed to cast a hazy glow around everything. The two men walked down the street toward Choshu headquarters in silence and Kenshin wondered what it was that Katsura wanted to speak to him about. He was so deep in his own thoughts about this that he failed to notice anything unusual about his surroundings, including a man who was watching him intently from an upper story window and street vendor who eyes where full of hatred for him.
*
They reached Choshu headquarters without incident and the samurai at the gate let them pass without stopping them, recognizing the Hitokiri Battousai instantly by his blood red hair and his youthful appearance. Kenshin didn't even bother to look at the two guards, knowing they would look away as if frightened by his mere existence. Mentally, he winced at the thought but no hint of emotion crossed his features. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a hitokiri to possess because they interfered with his ability to do his job. Kenshin could ill afford to let his inner turmoil and sadness be seen and he certainly could offer no hand of friendship to anyone, assuming anyone would want to become friends with a killer.
"Those kitchen girls liked you, once…" a voice whispered in his head, but he chose to ignore it again. That voice distracted him from his duties and he could not allow that.
He found Katsura in his study looking over some paperwork. Kenshin entered quietly, having left Iizuka behind in the outer hall, and sat across from Katsura, making a formal bow.
"You sent for me, Katsura-san?" Kenshin said quietly, as his senses and eyes swept he room in a now unconscious gesture of protection.
Katsura looked up from his paperwork to regard the young man before him and made a bow of his own. When he heard the whisper of Katsura's clothing, Kenshin's head snapped up to regard Katsura for a moment before he bowed his head slightly to look at his folded hands, his hair shadowing his face and masking his eyes from view.
Katsura looking into Kenshin's eyes for a moment and his own eyes widened at the brief glimpse he had of the cold hardness in Kenshin's gaze. He was very glad when the young hitokiri looked away and trained those eyes on his hands instead. For a moment, Katsura thought back to what Takasuki had told him about this work ruining the boy's soul. He had not wanted to admit the truth of that statement at the time but, seeing the look in Kenshin's eyes now seemed to confirm what he had been told then.
"What have I done?" His heart chilled as he sensed coldness within Kenshin's spirit that had not been present when they first met and the hitokiri's rage that lay just under the surface.
"You have been doing very well," Katsura said to him and Kenshin's head jerked up in response. There was a look of confusion in his pale purple eyes.
Katsura looked into his cold eyes again and shivered inwardly. "From now on, though, things will become more difficult. The people who need to be eliminated now are all heavily guarded, particularly after your last job."
Kenshin nodded his bowed head. "I see," he replied quietly, his voice betraying nothing, although fear raced through him.
"You will have to be more careful, not only are their guards but also the Shinsengumi to deal with."
Kenshin looked up from his hands and Katsura saw an amber glint in the hitokiri's eyes before it was masked again. "I will deal with them," Kenshin said, his voice flat.
"For the moment just concentrate on your assignments and don't become involved in duels with the Shinsengumi. They would like nothing better than to catch the 'Terror of Kyoto'. We need to keep your identity and movements a secret and we cannot do so if they know who you are. A hitokiri who is known is of no use to us."
"I understand." Kenshin's face was shadowed and his eyes revealed nothing of his emotions. He bowed again and rose. "If there is nothing else..."
Katsura looked up at Kenshin and waved a hand. "Not at the moment, but you will be contacted again soon."
"Then I will take my leave." Kenshin bowed again and turned to go.
"Kenshin," Katsura's voice contained a hint of concern for the young man. "Take care..."
"I know that I will die shortly but until that time I will do what I can to aid in the creation of a new era, that is all that matters to me now," he said without facing Katsura, knowing that his eyes would betray his fear of death.
He slid the door open and departed without a sound. Not waiting for Iizuka to finish his own business, he left the building to walk the streets, his mind on future assignments.
*
There were no black envelopes for him for almost two weeks and Kenshin was relieved at the reprieve from the bloodshed. He used the time to practice his techniques and to rest his weary body and mind. Memories of his past life flooded his thoughts as his subconscious tried to tell him to flee his current situation and return to his previous life of peace. But he could not leave, his pride refused to let him abandon his post and the people who were suffering in front of his eyes.
He knew in his heart that his decision to come here had been a bad one and that his soul was becoming warped by the killer he was becoming but it was not a simple matter to walk away from all that. He knew he could not expect even his master to take him back after six months of blood staining his hands. Hiko Seijuro would certainly not act as if nothing had happened if he attempted to return. He would simply sneer at Kenshin's misplaced idealism like he had before, only this time he would add that he was right and his 'baka deshi' was wrong in that conceited tone he always used.
"Much better to stay here," he thought to himself as he opened the back gate of the inn and slipped inside the courtyard to be confronted with Iizuka.
"There you are, Kenshin. I've searched half the city for you but couldn't find you," a crooked smile curved the man's mouth.
"I was down by the river," Kenshin's soft voice gave no hint of his inner conflict.
Iizuka walked closer to him and handed him a black envelope. "Tonight," he whispered and Kenshin nodded as he slipped the envelope inside his sleeve without a word.
"Well, I'll be on my way then. I'll meet you after," Iizuka waved and then slipped out the gate.
Kenshin watched him leave and then turned back to the inn. Once inside, he found the landlady, deep in discussion with one of the new girls, who smiled up at Kenshin as he entered the room.
"May I have a moment of your time?" he asked, smiling at the young girl though there was no emotion in that smile.
The landlady excused herself and went out into the hall with him.
"I am going to my rooms now and have no wish to be disturbed. I will get dinner in the city tonight and will be back very late."
The landlady nodded, understanding the code, "Very well, Himura-san. Do be careful. The city grows more dangerous in the dead of night."
Kenshin nodded and went to his rooms, making sure to slide all the doors closed, checking each room for anyone who didn't belong there as he did so. Then he slid the window open wider and sat in the sill, watching the waters of the canal below him. There was a ferryboat taking a group of samurai across the canal and a few women passed on the street below him, their powdered faces and elaborate hairstyles indicating they were geisha. Briefly, Kenshin wondered what geisha were doing in this area of the city but he dismissed them as any kind of threat to the security of the inn or himself.
He sat in the windowsill for several minutes before he took out the black envelope, a bit of trepidation and fear in his heart at the thought of more blood on his hands but he scanned its contents. There were three names. One was a weapon's smith who supplied the Shogunate forces with their weapons. The second was a high-ranking member of the Aizu clan who was suspected of being their primary hitokiri and who was responsible for the deaths of several Ishinshishi supporters within the Bakufu. But the third caused Kenshin's eyes to widen in shock because he was a man that Kenshin and the others trusted above all else. He could not believe what was written under his name.
"Tanaka Yasahiro, has turned traitor?"