Ciao!!!
Since I am limited in physical activity I have found the time to rewatch the Shishio episodes- and have finally found out what's been bothering me about Yumi's theme (you know, when she goes to help Shishio). I know it really well! It's the second movement of a famous Beethoven sonata called Pathétique, and I once knew how to play it (has been a few years since I played that piece, but it's entirely great. If you can, go and listen to all three movements!). Of course I had to go and relearn it, and now it's one of my favorite pieces to play. My piano teacher is by the way really hyped that I broke my ankle: I'm practicing a lot more. He's even going to let me study my favorite piece in the world now: the Waldstein Sonata by L.v. Beethoven (Who incidentally is my fav composer). The third movement is likely to strain my wrist (Why? Well, you have to play a trill with two fingers of your right hand while the rest play the melody and the left hand races up and down the keyboard. Can't imagine that? OK. Only for the right hand: tap your thumb and index finger really fast against something hard and flat. Then, at the same time, alternately press down with your middle-, ring-and pinky finger while stretching them out as far as can go. Got a cramp already? OK. Now imagine doing that while there's resistance... ) so I have to train it now- by typing and listening to what I will play!
Thus, this chapter has been written with those two pieces as background music. Read it listening to them!
"…." Denotes talking
….. denotes thinking
*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place
Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.
Chapter 10 Past and PresentKatsura barged into the small shop without muttering even so much of an apology. The Agency leader had a triumphant gleam in his eyes that rivaled the shining shino glaze of the pottery surrounding the tall figure of his friend. He seemed to be positively insane, the way he whirled around as soon as his feet had crossed the doorstep, demanding to see Hiko alone. His friend only snorted and gestured for Katsura to seat himself while he- obviously in a bad mood- went about his business. His customers were already in a becoming state of agitation so he didn't have to bother to be polite.
The exquisite shop in the fancy semi-suburbian outskirts of the city was frequented mostly by nouveaux riches who wanted to give their homes that Asian touch that was so en vogue these days. Hiko Seijurou's art was as in demand as never before, and the disgruntled ex-agent, who enjoyed making but not selling it was not at all annoyed that his friend provided a welcome excuse to usher all the shocked businesswomen and their 'common-law spouses' aka POSSLQs from his shop and bang the door close behind them.
Once the last middle-aged woman and her lapdog had left with a fawning look at the potter's muscles Hiko went into the back office, trusting Katsura to come along behind him. Seating himself at a small table covered with papers and bills roughly shoveled aside to make room for the jug of sake and Seijurou's cup Katsura couldn't hide his smile.
"Well, we received news about Himura," he opened the conversation. Hiko quirked an eyebrow.
"What predicament is my baka deshi in this time?" he asked, tone disinterested despite the glint in his dark brown-black eyes.
"It seems he has by chance stumbled onto one of our allies. Another deep undercover agent who has joined the Agency after transferring leadership of his own organization to his successor. Apparently, the man has recruited some followers and built a little safe haven for the pursued. He sends messages by an odd and outdated method of communication which is very effective in Regime territory since it's never caught onto."
"Ah, the guy with the carrier pigeons. What was his name- Okina? Strange that he's still around. He's older than most. So baka deshi has arrived at his place? Seems the saying is true- luck does support-"
"No need to finish that one, Seijurou.
Himura is safe for the moment. The report states he has seven companions
traveling with him."
"He never knew what was good for him. I thought his mission was only to
get Miss Takani to safety?"
"You certainly have a way of putting it bluntly. Yes. He should have only guided Takani Megumi back to us. But he still took those others with him."
"He is a little stupid, Katsura." Seijurou reminded him with a hint of annoyance in his voice. The Agency leader smiled wryly and shook his head. Only Hiko Seijurou would call the man who spoke seven languages fluently, had been in Agency services for five years, was a really good marksman not to mention master swordfighter and mastermind behind quite a few of the major strikes against the Regime stupid, all that at barely nineteen years of age. But then, Seijurou had the same talents himself combined with a tongue sharper than that of his rather quiet pupil and successor.
It had been Hiko Seijurou's idea to use swordfighters as assassins. Even though the witty sword master had never joined their ranks he had convinced the Agency- with an impressive display of his skills when nothing else had worked- that the silent killing a sword promised was to be preferred above the bark of the gun and that a distinctive profile to their assassins would strike fear into the heart of the enemy thus making for an excellent advantage in psychological warfare.
His apprentice, by creating the legend of Battousai the Invincible had once and for all proven how efficient Hiko Seijurou's strategy had been. Recently, he Regime had recruited men trained in the art of the sword of their own, having realized the potential they bore. Strategy, cunning, a feel for the opponent's moves and strength of mind and body came along with mastering the art- most useful attributes for warriors and spies. Not to mention the above-normal hand-eye-coordination and quick reflexes that helped when shooting a gun as well.
"Well..." Katsura trailed off, not exactly sure what to say. Seijurou smirked. His love of unsettling his friends was going to be his downfall some day.
"Well what?" Arrogance and superiority as well.
"Well, that was the good news," Katsura finished his sentence. He knew Seijurou wasn't going to ask what the bad news were, so he continued on his own. "The bad news is that Himura seems to have had a few rough times, and some of his group aren't in prime condition as well."
"So baka deshi managed to injure himself. Was to be expected. He hasn't been training like he should have the past few months."
Katsura didn't feel the need to point out that Himura had been on death's door when returning from Paris six months earlier and that he had been simply physically incapable of training. His friend knew that, he only liked to complain- and hide his worries behind his cynism.
"He made it there on his own two feet, though."
"Can't be that bad, then... how are chances for contacting them?"
"Not good. Our carrier pigeons are all out."
"Hmph. Let's hope my baka deshi doesn't mess it all up."
"I'm still trusting Himura's abilities," Katsura gave his usual reply, a slight smile on his lips.
"The meeting party is still lounging at the border as of yesterday. Move them further west. They will be nearer to where I presume my baka deshi to be."
"I have already given order to them to do so," Katsura enjoyed that for once he was a step ahead of Seijurou.
"Now I should open my shop again. Those rich fools want to spend their money on something genuinely artful!" The debonair ex-agent was back on track. Katsura got up, bowed and walked out of Hiko Seijurou's back office. "Goodbye, my friend. I will let you know when we hear something new from Himura."
Hiko Seijurou snorted and lightly dusted over a shimmering ceramic bowl with his hands. There was no dust on that bowl.
*~*
Kenshin froze in place. His right hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, his eyes were a dangerous flat violet blue. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice cold.
"I am Kashiwazaki Nenji, the owner of this farm. You can call me Okina, like everyone else does." The old man grinned at him. "And you are Himura Battousai-dono, top assassin for the Agency who allegedly disappeared six months ago, right? But who are the pretty ladies?" Okina turned towards the twins holding a small girl in their arms, the tall, elegant woman who was suddenly securely hidden behind a very tall, spiky-haired man and the blue-eyed young woman who was blushing rather prettily at his comment. A low growl didn't even register in his ears as he bent over and kissed her hand. "It's such a pleasure meeting you, Miss-"
That lecher dared to try and hit on Kaoru. Kenshin definitely didn't like that. He felt a strange red haze starting to drop over his eyes, and it took all of his considerable self-control to leave it at one low growl.
"Oh my! Are you ill?" One of the three women who had come out of the house as soon as Okina had greeted the arrivals and was now standing behind him stormed forwards and pressed her palm against Kenshin's forehead. "I swear your eyes just changed color! And you do look flushed! You have a fever! We must get you to rest immediately!"
"Uh... Okon?" Misao sweatdropped.
"Oro?" Kenshin squeaked rather undignified. The ice was broken by that simple sound. Kaoru wrenched her hand from Okina's grasp in order to wrap it around her torso shaking with laughter. Megumi chuckled lightly while Sano was in the process of trying to draw in a much-needed breath, slapping his thighs in hapless laughter. Tsubame giggled a little- she was still a very sore and very tired little girl-, Yahiko leaning on Sae for support. The men and women from the farm watched with puzzle faces as the ragtag group of fugitives collapsed on the ground laughing.
"You know, this is the first time someone didn't shy away from me when my eye color changed," Kenshin explained, tears of mirth in the corners of his dark violet eyes.
"But why should I? You honestly look sick when they do!" Okon tried to defend her reaction.
"Usually this is a sign you shouldn't mess with him," Okina came to Kenshin's aid. "do you remember the tales of the ten-foot tall, red-haired, amber-eyed demon the newspapers spread whenever there was talk about the Battousai? The red hair and amber eyes part was true."
"Gah!" Okon gasped, "but this man isn't nearly as tall!"
By now Megumi and the rest of the escapees were about half-dead from laughing and Kenshin was starting to feel more annoyed than humored by the questions asked. He was still very close to the past he rather not mentioned, and his mind kept replaying unpleasant cries of surprise of his victims when they found out he was the feared shadow come to take their lives.
"I beg your pardon if I don't meet the tales about who I was, that I do," he gritted. His weariness made him more on edge than usual. His rather cold tone quickly silenced the laughter around him. Okina sized him up before falling into a light bantering mode again.
"Ah, now, let's not talk about that. I want the pretty ladies to rest, since the little lady there seems to have trouble standing. Shiro, Kuro, would you mind opening the door to the underground room?"
"Jiya, why do you keep talking about an underground room?" Misao asked curiously, her turquoise eyes bright.
"Because we have one, Misao!" Okon chimed and scurried off, calling "I'm going to fetch some blankets!" over her shoulder. Omime and Omasu seemed to understand the unspoken signal and asked Misao to help them prepare a meal for the farm people and the fugitives. It was now only Okina and the group from Camp freedom.
Kenshin and the old man were staring each other down, amber slowly creeping back into the delft blue depths of Kenshin's eyes. Okina seemed to have changed completely, from the slightly funny, bumbling old man to a seasoned warrior capable of dealing with the famous Battousai on par.
"How do you know me?" Kenshin finally relented to asking the first question to break the tense silence that had replaced the humorous atmosphere. Okina smiled, a smile that didn't touch his sharp, apprehensive eyes.
"You are not the only one with a mission, Himura-dono," he said. "I came here after handing over the command of my own unit to my successor. The Agency found me to be a convenient deep undercover agent, so that's what I am since then. Shiro, Kuro, Okon, Omasu and Omime are part of the little operation to get Regime opposition members out of the country. Misao is the only one on the farm not to know this. We only found her a few weeks ago and I'm not trusting her yet."
"You can. Miss Misao is a member of the Oniwabanshu, a group loosely associated with the Agency, that she is."
"Nice to hear you have such a high opinion of the Oniwabanshu, Himura-dono. After all, they were my group before I appointed Shinomori Aoshi as their commander. He must have taken that Misao girl in."
Kenshin's eyes betrayed none of his surprise. "You're the former leader of the Oniwabanshu." He stated flatly, "and now run a people-smuggling operation. I wonder why Katsura Kogoro never told me about you."
"I'm deep undercover, Himura-dono. You're not supposed to know. I got a carrier pigeon yesterday, however, with a message from the Agency to all associates in the Regime that 'Red' would probably require assistance in a delicate op. And there you are... now I have to help you. But there's one thing I'd like to ask of you: how are the Oniwabanshu doing these days?"
The painful look that crossed Kenshin's face didn't go unnoticed. "So the rumors are true and the Paris incident really happened. I wouldn't believe it."
"Miss Misao is searching for Shinomori Aoshi, that she is. He, however, is not as she remembers him, that he isn't. He has joined the Regime in order to get his revenge on the Agency and myself in particular, that he has. I'm very sorry to be such an inconvenience, that I am."
"Aoshi- joined the Regime?" Okina was looking deeply hurt. "I didn't think he would go so far as to associate himself with evil- no, turn into evil! But I guess he was too young and the responsibility was too great after all."
Kenshin didn't answer, but the faraway look in his eyes showed his thoughts as clearly as any words would.
"It is a war, that it is. And many of those involved should no have been, that they shouldn't." But they were too naive to know, too prideful to listen and too stubborn to back down. he added, regret mirroring on his face. He hid it behind an empty smile, however, as he noticed the other inhabitants of the farm returning.
"Enough of this depressing talk!" Okina suddenly returned to the cheerful old man he had been before. Seemed like he, too, knew something about ki- not surprising since he had been the leader of the Oniwabanshu.
"It's all ready, Okina," Shiro reported smiling at Tae, Sae and Tsubame. "May I help the little lady?"
The twins gratefully let him scoop Tsubame into his arms and carry her to the large barn next to the main farmhouse. Entering behind him, the whole group of fugitives soon found themselves at the bottom of a ladder in a high-vaulted, nice-sized cellar room. Okina took the lead, pushing at a large, dusty glass jar on a shelf in a dark corner of the cellar.
"Whoa!" Misao exclaimed at the sight of the cozy, lantern-lit room behind the secret door. "Why didn't you ever tell me about this, Jiya?"
"Because you could have hidden yourself there from your punishment!" the old man laughed.
Tsubame was carefully set down on a sofa that was only the slightest bit moldy, Tae and Sae sitting down beside her as Megumi and Kaoru gratefully let themselves fall onto the two armchair situated around the western style table.
"Please make yourself comfortable. Omime and Omasu will bring you food once it's ready." Okina said. "Misao, come, we still need to do our daily work."
"Aw, Jiya, you know- they will probably need someone to tell them how things work at the farm!" Misao was desperate. She needed to talk to Himura about Aoshi! She was so close to finding her leader and love!
"Misao, what they most likely need now is rest. Look, that little girl and Himura are injured and have been running for so long," Kuro kindly reprimanded the hyper girl. Misao pouted.
"Come, Misao. I guess you can bring them the food later on." Reluctantly, the girl left with the rest of the farm people leaving the fugitives to their own devices.
With a rather heavy sigh Kenshin slid to the floor as soon as the door had closed behind them. His head sagged ever closer to his chest, and his eyelids were disconcerteningly droopy. "I'm very sorry, Sano, that I am, but could you watch over us for a half an hour while I sleep a little?" he asked, his speech slurred. Once the last adrenaline had worn off he was positively dead on his feet, the wink of sleep- it had been no more than ten minutes he had rested this morning- not enough to make up for two sleepless nights. His injuries twinged uncomfortably as well, his mind too fogged to shut away his body's needs.
"Sure, Kenshin," Sano replied after one look at the agent. It spoke of Kenshin's trust in him that he didn't even reply. Instead, his breathing had become even and slow the moment Sano had answered, his hands uncurled, one resting lightly atop the leg drawn to his chest, the other lying in his lap. Kenshin was fast asleep.
Sano didn't wake him up once the half an hour was over. The agent had looked so spent when he had let his guard rop that the young fighter couldn't get himself to rouse him. Thus, the redhead was still sleeping when Misao brought their food, her disappointed glance meeting stern resolve from the group of fugitives who had awoken one by one when the delicious smell of real miso soup had reached their nostrils. The girl left soon after, since the one she wanted to talk to was not available, and the others were too protective to let her wake him up. They had eaten in silence, their bodies exhausted and their minds numbed from the grueling flight through the night. Afterwards, most of them had dropped off to doze again, leaving Sano alone on his watch- or so he thought.
"You know, it would be much more comfortable if you put your legs up on a chair." The sharp voice of Megumi sounded for once amiably concerned. Sano grinned at her lazily.
"Oi, Foxy, why are you still awake?" She sighed and sat down beside him on the sofa.
"You know, you could just be thankful you have someone to talk to," she answered, her sharp tongue somewhat dulled by the night's events. Sano scooted closer to her. Megumi had dark circles under her eyes and for the first time since he had met her her hair was in disarray. She was slumped on the sofa in a posture that held nothing of her elegance and poise- and yet she was the most beautiful woman Sano had ever set eyes on.
"Never mind... " he drawled, carefully sliding an arm around the physician's shoulder. She stiffened, but relaxed when she realized he wasn't doing anything else.
"I am very concerned for Tsubame and Ken-san," she whispered suddenly, unexpectedly, "he pretends he is alright, but I can see his body is not. Those wounds on his chest are probably infected by now, Saito's attack has stabbed deep and... well, Tsubame is simply too small. Her body can't handle the strain if we go on again tonight... we have to stay here. You have to help me convince them to stay!" Her hands knitted themselves together nervously, twisting some of the fabric of her shirt in between her fingers. Sano carefully reached out and took her hands into his own.
"I'll try," he said honestly, "but I can't promise. I think Kenshin is much too stubborn to let anything deter him..." he halted his speech as he suddenly realized their situation. Megumi's face was so close to his, her hands warm and small in his grasp, her lips inviting, her tired eyes slightly wide with emotions he couldn't fathom. "Megumi..." he said softly intertwining her fingers with his. She met his gaze with liquid brown eyes shimmering in the artificial light of their underground abode.
"Megumi, Tsubame is- she is..." Yahiko was panicking. Blushing ever so slightly Megumi wrenched her hands from Sano's grip.
"What is it, Yahiko?" she asked, the foxy doctor-mode back full blast.
"She's so hot! And she's crying! Tae and Sae asked me to get you!" the boy's eyes were wide with fear.
"I'm coming." Wearily, Megumi got up and went over to the bed in which the twins and their charge had laid down to rest.
Tsubame's shoulder had slipped from its protective sling and she had a fever, which resulted in the girl having nightmares. Although Megumi concluded that she was not in immediate danger, it was clear that she was in no condition to travel again that night. The group would have to stay at the farm for a few days.
About halfway into the afternoon Kenshin and Kaoru awoke, the former not very pleased that Sano had taken it upon himself to watch over them and had neglected his duty of waking him up. But then, the stress of one night spent in breathless suspension pondering whether someone had found them out- even though Megumi had meant it only as a joke startling them while planning it had upset the agent enough to deny him his rest- and the next running through the barren wilderness, bloodhounds breathing down their necks had mellowed him a little so he left it at one reproachful glance. Kaoru fussed over the two children a little before joining Kenshin in his silent watch next to the door while Sano and Megumi rested.
"I can't believe this is real," the girl whispered, her arms tightly wrapped around each other and pressed against her chest to preserve warmth. With her slim and exhausted body she quickly lost warmth, and even though Okina had isolated the chamber as good as possible there was still a noticeable chill from the permafrost just behind the walls.
"It will take Miss Tsubame two to three days to get ready to travel again, that it will, so you still have time to get used to it, that you have," Kenshin replied evenly. Kaoru sighed.
"I know that. But I still can't believe that's it's afternoon and here I am sitting and doing nothing. That's just so... surreal." She climbed to her feet and started pacing around their little safe harbor. "And then there's the fact I suddenly have friends, there are agents everywhere and nothing is what it seems to be anymore."
"I'm very sorry that I had to deceive you, that I am... I didn't mean to trouble you, not at all." She halted, grabbing a spare blanket to wrap around her, and plopped down beside him.
"You don't trouble me... after all, without you I'd be helping to rebuild that awful Camp." She snuggled into her blanket, but suddenly straightened and put it over his shoulders as well. "You must be cold, too, just sitting there," she chided and settled closer to his warmth, soon dropping off to dreamland again. Kenshin didn't have the heart to tell her that his temperature was still higher than normal since his body was busy healing itself, so he just closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Kaoru being so close to him.
Their peace was shattered when Misao came barging into the room demanding to know whether Himura was still asleep. For a moment Kenshin had it in his mind to just pretend he didn't notice her, but then he remembered the shimmering of her eyes as she spoke of her friends, the Oniwabanshu, and Aoshi, so he wordlessly nodded to her in greeting.
"Hello, Himura! I hope you are better now... you looked awfully silent sleeping, you know. Totally pale! Will you tell me about my Aoshi-sama now?" He smiled
Kenshin chuckled. "You don't waste time, do you, Miss Misao?" She whipped her braid over her shoulder, absently playing with the tie that held it together.
"I don't have much time, you know? Jiya keeps calling on me, and then there's the rumors that soldiers are heading this way- of course, since we have got you here it's not just rumors but a certain event... they have dogs that can even smell people in the water if not too much time has passed since they jumped in!"
"I'm not sure about the dogs, that I am not. After all, this sounds rather impossible... but I have a question about you, Miss Misao. Why did you leave the Oniwabanshu after... after Paris?" He hid himself behind the shadows and his hair again. Misao couldn't read him like that, something that annoyed the young spy-in-training.
"Well, there was no more Oniwabanshu. Our division was completely obliterated, Aoshi-sama had vanished off the face of the Earth and I was the only one left. Now, I have taken the title of Okashira and will soon rebuild the Oniwabanshu, but- where is Aoshi-sama?" Her pouting, pleading look was cute, but she tried it on the wrong man.
"I can't tell you where he is now," Kenshin replied, his expression unreadable even though he calmly met her gaze.
"But-" Misao started, only to be interrupted by a banging on the separating wall. "Misao! Quickly, come outside. A whole platoon of soldiers is on their way to the farm, and we don't want to be suspicious, do we?" Okon was frantically trying to open the entrance to the hidden chamber. "Please, Misao!"
The ninja girl got up with a look on her face that promised Kenshin she would be back as soon as possible and pushed the door disguised as a shelf open. "I'm coming, Okon, I'm coming!"
Kenshin smiled after her. She still thought he was stupid, that she did.
*~*
There was nothing out of the ordinary on that little farm. Neither Saito nor Aoshi could detect anything that pointed to an intrusion by fugitives, yet the possibility remained. Facing his men Saito assigned orders to bring every hand in for questioning before riding right into the main courtyard, accompanied only by Aoshi and five men. Dismounting, they were greeted by an attractive woman of perhaps thirty years who bowed before them very politely and very shy, if not afraid.
"My name is Omasu. How can I help you?" she asked, her voice quivering a little. Saito's cold yellow stare raked up and down her body.
"We are currently recapturing eight people who have violated Regime laws and deserted their designated workplaces at Camp Freedom. You will help us." His voice held no room for arguments. Omasu bowed again.
"We have seen no such people on the run, but you are of course welcome to stay here if you need to," she said, putting on a very convincing show of being frightened because she was. Aoshi's silent but strong presence unnerved her, and Saito's piercing eyes and analyzing stare sent shivers down her spine.
"Where is the owner of this farm?" Aoshi suddenly asked. His gaze had not shifted in the least to announce his statement, and Omasu jumped at his words.
"I will go get him for you," she offered, bowing a third time, deeper this time before leaving for the house.
"No need- he's already coming," Saito commented lazily, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the right breast pocket of his uniform and a packet of matches from the left. Omasu watched in uneasy silence as he drew one of the cigarettes out of their protective casing and lighted it with an almost carelessly lightened match. Drawing a deep lungful of the addictive tobacco smoke the officer settled his gaze onto the entrance to the main house. An old man stepped out that instance, making his way over to them once he saw the soldiers and Regime officers.
"I am Okina, the owner of this farm," he said in even tones. Saito watched him impassively. Aoshi next to him tensed, however.
"I am Saito Hajime, Captain of the Third Regime Squad. I explained to your hired hand why we are here, Okina. Make room for twenty-five men and two officers of the Regime. We will base our search of this area here." Another draw on the cigarette. "Officer Shinomori is my second-in-command on this mission. His wishes are the same as mine. You will do whatever your government requires of you. Now go." Okina nodded wordlessly before he retreated in a very respectful manner.
"Of course we will be happy to help catch the criminals," he said while going back to the house. "I will prepare rooms for you and your second-in-command in the house. Your men will have to night in the barn, unfortunately. Since our house is too small to accommodate more people."
"That will suffice," Saito commented letting his cigarette butt fall to the swept-dirt ground of the courtyard.
"I will follow him to ensure he doesn't try anything," Aoshi stated, already walking towards the house behind the old man. Saito shrugged and fished in his breast pocket for his cigarettes. He would keep an eye on the surrounding buildings.
A young girl came out of the pigpen that stood a good 200 feet away from the main house. Blinking against the sunlight she sulkily slendered across the yard- at least until she caught sight of the five mounted soldiers and the officer casually leaning against his horse.
"Good evening, Captain," she bowed before him. Her turquoise eyes showed she didn't like the intrusion on her little world, and Saito decided to have a little fun with her. She was already on her way over to the main house when he answered her.
"Good evening, weasel."
She bristled with indignation but was clever enough not to speak up to him- or maybe she wasn't. "My name is Misao!" she squeaked.
"You still look like a weasel. And shouldn't you be helping your grandfather to prepare our quarters?" His glare seemed to dare her to say anything. This time, however, she only huffed and stomped away.
Aoshi silently entered into the hallway of the farmhouse behind the old man. Without looking back, Okina lead him into a cozy-looking, albeit sparsely furnished, living room. He closed the door behind him and turned to meet the sharp gaze of the old man.
"Shinomori," he said simply.
"Okina," the stoic man with the ice-blue eyes replied alike. His stance was tense, his hands ready to draw the weapon he carried on his hip. The old man's eyes narrowed in disapproval.
"So you have in fact joined what we once considered our enemy, Aoshi?" he asked. No sound was uttered as the two men stared at each other.
"I know what happened in Paris, Aoshi, but that is not the solution. There is one of your group who is still alive. Don't you care for her?"
"The Oniwabanshu is dead. I live solely to hunt down the man responsible for that. I think you are harboring him. Give me the Battousai."
"I don't have a man of that name under my roof," the old man replied, grabbing onto a decorative pair of embossed short sticks lying on a shelf behind him.
"I still believe you do. If necessary, I will fight you to gain that information." The long sheath was pulled from its place at Aoshi's hip. With one fluid movement he pulled not one, but two short swords from it. "Last time I fought I didn't have my real weapon with me. You won't be as lucky as the Battousai," he announced, sliding into a stance that was offensive and defensive at once. His movements were graceful and fluid, like quicksilver. Sighing, Okina readied himself.
"I will not go down easily."
"I can't believe this man! I mean, sure, he's a captain and all that, but honestly,. Calling me a weasel is not right! I'm not a-" Misao's voice trailed off when she heard the crashing sound from behind the closed door of the living room. With a sudden burst of speed she raced towards it and threw it open.
A gasp tore itself from her mouth as the past and present Okashiras of the Oniwabanshu faced each other.
... to be continued ...
Don't kill me! They met!Yasai: Barely.
Not you, too. My cousin N-chan got a hold of my story and wrote me an e-mail with a really good critic in it… still…
Yasai: Don't tell me you're afraid of her!?!
I am! That girl's a genius. I always feel so stupid when she's around…
Yasai: She isn't around. She's in Brazil.
Okay. I surrender. Now for some info:
shino glaze – white Japanese glaze on pottery (yikes, Chibi researched something!)
POSSLQ – acronym attempted to be introduced by the US Census. POSSLQ = person of opposite sex sharing living quarters ( pronounced PAH-s'l-cue). Gained some limited currency in the 80s mostly as a humorous object of mild ridicule but has pretty much sunk out of existence. The census still uses it . ! The Germans have a fitting word for that: Lebensabschnittsgefährte (brownie points to anyone who can pronounce it!), which would be something like 'temporary life partner' (Oh well, what you come across when reading ...).
Thank you all for your reviews! I promise I'll do individual responses again next time, but my computer time's running out- my brothers demand I let them online, so I g2g! Cya!!!
Chibi-chan