Both Watsuki Nobuhiro and Joss Whedon would be well within their rights to turn a fire
hose on everyone in this chapter. Sheesh.
Edodale
By wombat
Chapter 15
As it fell over her from above, Kenshin's enormous coat hood completely enveloped
Kaoru's face. It held the mingled warm scents of autumn leaves, woodsmoke, and the
cinnamon/bitter-almond aura of his hair. She remembered Sano's complete disavowal of
the garment once it reappeared a few weeks after donation, with the original olive-drab
canvas completely relined by sashiko-quilted lattices of rose, violet, and blue over the
inevitable fuschia background. The only colors she could see within its concealing
darkness right now, though, were the fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids.
"Oooh. Kenshin?"
"Ymmph?" He didn't stop kissing her neck, if what he was doing technically qualified as
kissing: trailing slightly-parted lips across it, with the faintest drag of soft friction
emphasized by his warm breath. She wriggled to get his attention, but it didn't have much
effect. He paused in place to suck the fishbone pendant up into his mouth and then
relinquished it back down again, hot and damp in the hollow of her throat.
No wonder Hiko had been upset when he'd caught them like this before, except for her
being buttoned inside Kenshin's coat now. If Kenshin really wanted to hurt her, she'd be
completely helpless, with her wrists held flat against the gazebo bench and the rest of her
body pinned down between his knees. But she never seemed to be able to stop herself
from trying to tug his shirttail out, and everything was bound to go downhill from there.
On second thought, the noise he'd made against her shoulder suggested that he'd rather
liked that wriggle, despite his best intentions. She tried it again. He gasped and bit her.
"Ow!"
Instantly apologetic, he backed off a bit, nudging his head up against her chin. "I'm
terribly sorry," he breathed. "Was there something you wanted to say?"
"I was just thinking-- maybe you should take your hood off, so at least one of us can see
if Megumi shows up after all."
"Perhaps you're right," he said, but still didn't move. After a moment, he nosed down into
her shirt and started to trace her clavicle with his tongue. She squirmed again, this time
involuntarily. He seemed to have better control over his response now, lightly closing his
teeth around the round outline of the bone. "Whllphm?" he asked, flicking his tongue
across her skin.
"Ooh... no, I'm serious. She'd be really embarrassed, and we shouldn't make her waste all
the advance work she did for tonight."
"I suppose not." His sigh was warm inside her collar. "Perhaps we ought to have waited
until after the ritual after all. But as Mr. Harris says, 'Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.'
And your skin does taste very nice. Are you certain I should put the hood back if you're
still cold?"
A pleasant shiver had run through her at his previous remark. She shook her head. "I'm
not cold. Or I won't be if you untie your hair. I'd be able to see the moon through it, too."
He lifted the edge of the hood and peered up. "No, I'm afraid you wouldn't. It's directly
above the gazebo roof now." She took advantage of his lapse of attention to lunge up and
plant some suction on his own exposed neck. The result bore some resemblance to his
being-scritched posture, except with louder breathing. In fact, he went limp enough for
her to flip him over onto his back. Weakly, he protested, "You promised, you know."
"I know. But if you get to do this to me, I should get to do this to you. Like you always
say, all I'm doing is kissing your neck, and that shouldn't cause any problems with
anyone." She was pretty sure he was enjoying this more than he wanted to, because he
was trying very hard not to move. When she licked the fine crease between the top of his
neck and the underside of his chin, it felt like he started to try very hard not to breathe,
too.
In strangled bursts, he said, "You're perfectly right. I see now that it was very, very
wrong of me to do this to you, and I'll never do it again. So I think you ought to stop."
"But that's not a very good reason for me to stop, is it?" She sucked the crease into her
lips and nipped it. His entire body jerked, and a fine salt dew cropped up against her face.
"Oro!" His hands bit into her waist. "Very well, I'll never do this to you again unless you
stop right now? Is that better?"
"No, that's still pretty unfair," she said, through the delicate grip of her teeth. "Besides,
you taste nice, too, kind of like okonomiyaki. Oof!" He'd hooked one leg over the edge of
the bench, and flipped both of them onto the ground below it. At least his hood had ended
up behind his back this time. Moonlit reflections from the pond were pouring all around
them in bright waves. "Pretty stars," she noted giddily.
He glanced over his shoulder to see what she meant. "But Miss Kaoru, that's just the
inside of the roof."
"Not there. The water's reflecting into your eyes all sparkly."
"Oh. All right then," he said, and kissed her lids shut again.
---
Outside the shrine, Enishi sat in his parked car. The little vixen had said Battousai and the
Kamiya girl would only stay there for a few hours. But if he waited for them to come out
on their own, they'd know Megumi had completely missed their rendezvous and would
be on their guard. So he'd have to go in after them first. In the meantime, though, there
wasn't any need to crowd the playing field with extra obstacles running about. A gaggle
of miko was still loitering around the entrance, slowly drifting apart toward footpaths,
bicycles, or the other cars around him in the lot.
When the last extra miko had gone away, Enishi pulled his watou out of the back seat. He
didn't bother strapping its harness on this time, merely toting the sheathed sword over his
shoulder by the long silk cord that hung from the hilt. Twirling the tassels at the end, he
strolled toward the gap in the shrine walls and the red stylized arch that stood over it. Just
his luck this would have to be one of Inari's shrines. If there were just one or two torii as
in most other sorts of shrine, he might've taken his chances and run for it. But here was a
whole forest of the bloody things lining the entire main walkway through the grounds,
and that could get ticklish. Still, if Battousai could get in somehow, so could he.
Experimentally, he ducked his head under the first torii. His hair rose up on end even
more than usual, with a dangerous crackle and the ozone scent of static electricity. Before
sparks could start flying, he ducked back out to make rude gestures at the fox statues that
guarded the support posts. This was going to be a bit of a puzzle. He liked puzzles.
His glasses' new photochromic lenses provided an unobstructed view of the hillside.
Spaced several yards apart, the arcade of torii curved their way up like a dragon's spine,
lightly scaled with silver by the gibbous moon above. Their crossbars were three or four
times his height, and he doubted they'd take kindly to him clambering up their sides. He
didn't remember this particular shrine, but whoever built these high walls had known
about him and the others. Even at arm's length, he could sense the fir needles and salt
baked into the bricks, as well the protective ofuda laid into the mortar that had been
mixed with rice and sake. Not a chance he could climb up those, either. So how had
Battousai wangled his way in? Crawled through some rathole like Jineh? Found a tree
whose branches reached over the wall?
Abruptly, Enishi got tired of this and sauntered away. Halfway to his car, he turned and
took a running leap back toward the torii. Vaulting onto the top with his watou, he kept
its tassels firmly in hand and swung it up on its cord to join him. As he landed on the
crossbar, he slung the sword back over his shoulder like a cat balancing itself with its tail.
There were no ill effects to his feet at all, not even the vague twingy itch of a pinched
nerve. He leaped forward to the second torii, counterbalanced again, gauged the distance
to the next, and so onward.
The least they could've done was space the torii evenly, but then again, it was more of a
challenge this way. If he had to, he could probably drop down between them or just jump
straight off to the side. But if Battousai really didn't have his sword with him, as the little
vixen had claimed, this was going to be the most real fun Enishi was going to have
tonight. Tomorrow would be a different story, after he'd trussed up the brat and dragged
him back to Tomoe so she could see just how pitiful he was. And then there would be the
days and years ahead in their new home, an eternity of deathless pain for Battousai and
bliss with Tomoe, and her sad face would smile beneath his kisses at last.
---
Judging from the strands left unspotted by drying blood, the girl's hair really was the
bright tawny shade of a fox's pelt. But the other half of Enishi's nickname for her must
have been only in comparison to his own height. As far Tomoe could judge from the
crumpled misery on the floor in front of her, the girl was almost exactly her own height
and build, though in much worse condition: poised on the twilight edge of consciousness,
able to feel and voice fresh pain but not to fight it off.
Enishi's half-finished cup sat on the table nearby, along with a few things he'd dumped
out of his pockets before leaving: a hip flask, a bracelet of semiprecious beads that he
used as worry stones, and some candy. Tomoe took the cup, left her tanto in its place, and
dipped her handkerchief into the tepid tea to wipe the girl's face clean. It was impossible
to see the color of her eyes within their frame of cuts and bruises; terror and exhaustion
had dilated her pupils until the irises were hollow rings of frayed thread, like the sound of
her voice. "Um, hi. I think I should know who you are, or at least I might know if I could
think right now. But maybe you're not who I would've thought you were anyway. I'm
sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?"
"Take care of the sense, and the sensibilities will take care of themselves. My name is
Tomoe. Yukishiro Tomoe. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"At least one of us is. Oh gosh, I'm not normally this rude, but I'm really not at my best
right now. My name's Megumi. Megumi Rosenberg?" It sounded like a question,
pleading to not be herself any more. "Is that his knife again, or yours? I don't remember
the yellow stone from before."
"It's the very same tanto that he borrowed from me. The topaz came back to it after he'd
finished with you for the evening. Do you like it?"
"Did I do that?" She stared up at Tomoe. "Does that mean I'm going to die?"
"We all die. I've done it several times myself, you know."
"Did it hurt very much?" Megumi's voice was trembling and fading, like ripples at the
edge of a pool. "I don't think I can hurt any more than this. But then again, I thought that
about five minutes after he started, and I was already wrong then."
"It's very peaceful, really. Almost like taking a nap, except for the waking up." Tomoe
squeezed the reddened handkerchief back into the cup and moistened it again with clean
tea from the pot. "I didn't mean to pry, but I couldn't help overhearing some of your little
chat earlier."
"Just the screaming part, or some of the actual words part? I think the screaming was a lot
louder, because even my ears are still ringing. Unless that's just left over from when he
hit me."
"Hush a bye, little vixen, and I'll clean up you and your rags. Just lie still a bit and rest
while he's away."
A note of hope crept into her voice. "Really? Where did he go?"
"Hush, I said." The last smears of blood wiped away from Megumi's skin, except for a
long cut stubbornly seeping down one cheek. After one last rinse with tea, Tomoe helped
her sit up. "Is it really the fashion now to wear bits of string? Can you put it on by rolling
about in it like a kitten?"
Woozily, Megumi looked down at her torso. "Oh yuck, my nose bled all over my
sweater. Or what's left of it. Or was that from my nose?"
"Here, take the teapot into the corner to finish washing up. You can put on the nightgown
back there instead. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain."
"I thought you said he'd gone away." She sounded fearful again.
"He has, after a fashion. Oh, you mean my baby brother? Why, he's gone where you told
him, where Kenshin's been waiting for you all this time with a girl at his belt instead of a
sword. But let's change you now, why don't we?"
---
Yumi tugged at the impromptu naginata, testing her knife's attachment point to the
broomstick despite the limited space in Hiko's car. The black blade swung dangerously
close to him as they sped around a corner. She kicked the box between her feet upright
again, catching most of the crossbow bolts and fishbones before they rolled under her
seat. "I don't know what's up with Tomoe right now, but you guys need more and better
backup weapons. Any idea what they've already got with them?"
"Certainly not Battousai's sword." Hiko grimaced as they whipped past a slow-moving
sedan. "At most, Miss Kamiya-Summers may have brought her bokken, though I don't
believe she has a spool of silver wire with which to wrap it. Kenshin has wire and tools in
his quarters at school, but I doubt he would have brought them here. We had best hope
Miss Rosenberg's usual prowess will be aided by the shrine precincts."
"Yeesh." She hung onto the window frame as they rounded the last curve toward the
shrine parking lot. "If you're still using perfect grammar while driving this fast, you've
either had too much sake or not enough. Looks like everyone else cleared out already--
just a couple of bicycles and one car." They pulled up next to it, and Hiko tossed his keys
to Yumi so she could open the trunk while he inspected the other vehicle. She fetched out
the crossbow and his sword, the latter already encased in its own silver coil, but tossed
the broomstick back in.
"You've abandoned the naginata?"
"It wasn't much of one. The duct tape won't hold firm. I'll just bring the knife as is." She
waved it at him.
He straightened up from the tinted glass. "Even the windows are still warm. Its owner
must have arrived shortly before we did."
"I don't think Tomoe can drive, so Enishi's probably still carting her around. So if they're
here, that car's his. Want me to slash the tires?"
While he had never made a study of how quickly women could dress or undress, he'd
been discreetly amazed at the speed at which she'd completely stripped away her linen-
suited demureness, albeit mercifully concealed from him in the privacy of her own room.
It nearly inspired an image of her holding her knife in the air with a cry of "Leather-clad
biker-chick power, make up!" Nearly, but not quite.
"We should be doing a grave disservice to its owners if we're mistaken. If we circle the
edge of the lot, perhaps we can spot footprints in the dew and track them. Do you have
everything?"
"The box is still under the dashboard," she said, carrying the weapons up to the front of
the car. "Got your gloves?"
"Yes, they're in my pocket." He turned toward the new set of headlights turning toward
them from the main road. The motion instantly blurred into a leap over his car's hood.
When he landed, he smacked the chainmail gauntlets into her hands and took the
crossbow from her. "Go on ahead. I'll join you presently."
By the time he'd opened the door and fitted a bolt into the crossbow, Yumi's shadow was
disappearing under the first of the torii winding up the hill. He narrowed his eyes toward
the approaching lights as he pulled the firing lever back. She was right, they did need a
wider array of weapons. If he had to face two opponents, he might have time to reload
after his first shot. Then again, he might not. The car slowed as it approached him, then
turned to park in the next aisle over, where the driver's window rolled down.
Joyce Summers' greeting sounded warier than usual. "Hello, Rupert. Planning to help
with the yabusame at the opening ceremonies tomorrow?"
Guiltily, Hiko lowered the crossbow. "Something of the sort. To what do I owe the
pleasure of your company?"
"Oh, I'm here to pick up Kaoru. She was supposed to bike home, but she must've lost
track of time while helping Megumi. Are you here to pick up Kenshin?"
"In a manner of speaking." He leaned into his own car again to leave the crossbow on
Yumi's seat, but turned around with it still in his hands when he heard Joyce's door open
and close. "Are you going into the shrine?"
"Well, yes. We might as well get a sneak peek at the festival decorations, don't you
think?"
"Er." Quickly, he hooked the disarmed crossbow over his belt and stuffed the bolt into a
coat pocket, leaving the car seat empty. "Actually, this seems an opportune time to take
up a different matter, if you have a moment. While I was rearranging the back room of
your dojo into a potter's workshop, I found an object left beneath a loose floor tile. It
must be your property. I considered asking Kaoru to bring it to you, but that didn't seem
quite appropriate."
Successfully diverted away from the shrine, Joyce peered into his glove compartment as
he rummaged around in it. "My goodness. I don't recall ever losing anything back there.
It used to be the men's locker room, after all."
"Indeed so. I'll let you decide for yourself, in any case." After locating the scrap of silk,
he relinquished it to her along with the passenger's seat. The soft gauze held a fist-sized
box, which opened to reveal an elaborate origami flower. "A Kawasaki rose, I believe. If
I'm not mistaken, it was wet-folded from washi, allowed to dry, and then lightly sprayed
with perfume to add scent and make the paper translucent. There appears to be something
inside it, but I thought I'd best leave that alone."
Beneath the interior light of the car, the rose glowed like the moon behind a cloud.
Reluctantly, Joyce unfolded it, destroying the pearly symmetry. At its heart lay a sapphire
ring in a nest of finely written script. "Oh, Koshijirou...." Blinking away the threat of
tears, she smiled up at Hiko. "When he proposed, he hid the engagement ring inside a
blue paper rose instead. This year's wedding anniversary would've been the same number
as the age when we first met. He must've been saving this for my birthday, the week
after--"
"I didn't mean to grieve you, Ms. Summers. Please, you don't owe me any explanations."
Hiko had already averted his eyes from the haiku written on the paper, not because of any
unseemliness in its wording, but because he felt like an interloper for even glancing at its
depth of emotion. "Would you like me to go in and fetch Kaoru while you compose
yourself?"
"That would be very kind of you, but really, I shouldn't impose--"
"No imposition at all," he demurred. "After all, as you said, I need to go fetch out
Kenshin anyway."
"Well, we can both go in together, then." Surreptitiously wiping her eyes, Joyce slipped
the ring onto her hand and straightened up, gently closing Hiko's door behind her. "Let's
go see what our kids are up to, why don't we?"
---
Around the bend from the parking lot, Enishi cocked his head at the stairs beneath him.
He was about two-thirds of the way up the hill, and a set of curves in black leather had
just passed below. Could that be...? No. Yes? He'd never agreed with Jineh that Battousai
must've killed Yumi, and couldn't much blame her for running away. But if it was Yumi,
what was she doing here? For that matter, how was she getting through the torii?
The runner emerged from the far end and headed across the courtyard, dodging around
garlands and booths. It had to be Yumi. And she was carrying a sword-- not Battousai's,
because the blade reflected the moonlight brightly instead of drinking it down into night-
black. Some sort of protective talisman? He'd have to ask her about that, once he caught
up with her.
After crossing half of the remaining torii, he peered further into the grounds in search of
Yumi or Battousai. There was the liquid shimmer of water through the trees, faintly
echoing with something he might've mistaken for birdsong if not for the time and season.
He listened closely, and grinned. Even after this long, he would've known that sound
anywhere: the distinctive muffled cries of some girl Battousai was having his way with.
No wonder Yumi had been in such a hurry. Enishi sped up his own pace, loping easily
from one crossbar to the next toward the skeletal shadow of the gazebo.
---
Kenshin's coat was unbuttoned all the way down now, and so was Kaoru's. It wouldn't be
exactly accurate to say she'd never dreamed he would ever do anything like this, but she
hadn't realistically expected it. Technically, they were still within the boundaries he'd set
up before, in that none of their clothing was out of order except for their coats, which
didn't really count. But technicalities seemed a bit beside the point at the moment.
For example, while her hands weren't actually tied together, they might as well have
been, considering how thoroughly he'd wrapped them for warmth in the scarf that he'd
been knitting. The two of them were up on the gazebo bench again, where the entire
length of his body lay pressed closely over her, warm and tense and writhingly alive. One
of his own hands was clamped over her mouth, constraining her sound and movement as
his hair slid across her face like a shroud of burning silk. She suspected she'd just bitten
him, but wasn't really sure. He hadn't made any sort of "hey, you bit me" protest, but then
neither of them had said anything useful for a while now. Not that she could anyway, but
he'd even stopped asking her whether she liked whatever he was doing. But it was
probably pretty obvious.
Her fishbone pendant had fallen out of its holding loop some time ago, and now the entire
chain finished unwinding itself and tumbled down behind her neck. Afraid of losing the
necklace, she deliberately bit him harder to get his attention. He merely bit her in return,
plunging white lightning all the way down her spine. Ironically, it was her answering
scream that made him stop. "I'm sorry," he panted into her shoulder. "Did I hurt you?"
"Nmph," she mumbled, but kicked his ankle when he started to settle back into place.
Belatedly, he took his hand off her mouth to let her speak clearly. "My fishbone fell off.
Help me find it?"
"Can't it wait?" His face was hidden by his hood's shadow again, but she already knew
the expression that went with that tone of voice: wide-eyed and desperate, poised on the
knife-edge of anguish. Every other time, though, he'd been pleading with her to stop
pushing him, not the complete reverse that was happening now. She really didn't want
him to stop yet, but she didn't want her necklace to fall into the pond, either.
"It should only take a minute. Help me unwind this?" The scarf was still wrapping her
hands firmly together, despite her best efforts from inside it.
A reluctant sigh escaped him, but he sat back on his knees and pulled her half-upright. As
he began to feel around the knitted bundle for the end of the scarf, Kaoru made the
strategic error of resting her head against his shoulder and kissing his ear. His search
quickly began to wander off track, until he'd drawn her up into his lap for even more
insistent kisses. Eventually, the loosened scarf fell between them, utterly forgotten.
"Whoa!" Yumi's voice interrupted them from just outside the gazebo, a while later.
"Where's Megumi?"
Okay, since the gazebo hadn't spontaneously combusted yet from their kissing, Kaoru's
blush wasn't going to do it either, but that wasn't much comfort to her. "We don't know.
She never showed up. What time is it?"
Kenshin shook his hood back, letting the lanterns behind Yumi fleck his eyes with golden
light again. "And if I might ask, what are you doing here?"
"I think that's my line," Yumi said. She leaned over the railing and rested the end of
Hiko's silver-wrapped katana on their bench. "Look, it's none of my business, but jeez,
can you knock it off for a bit?. From the looks of your sword back in the gallery, we think
Tomoe's on the loose. And whaddaya mean, Megumi never showed up? We thought her
new ritual must've been what set Tomoe off, but if that's not it, then something's getting
really screwy around here. Well, something else."
It was a good thing Kaoru's necklace had already fallen off. The way her blush was
heating up even more, the silver might've melted by now. She untangled her limbs so she
could crawl under the bench to rummage through the leaves on the gazebo floor. The
conversation continued above her. "Tomoe, but no one else? That's odd."
"Well, no one else by the time we headed out, but I saw Enishi climbing his way up here
on top of the torii, and he's got his watou with him. Even if he hasn't already poked
Tomoe with it to recover his own powers, he's going to be trouble. And I didn't see
Tomoe anywhere, so she could already be on the grounds. Not only that, but someone
else drove up to join the party when Hiko sent me in ahead. So I don't know if you two
would rather get out of here or stay put, but this is not a good time to be getting in touch
with your inner Viagra bunnies."
"Did you bring any weapons?"
"Hiko's got the crossbow and some fishbones back in the car, but it might take him a
while to bring them up. I've got his sword and gloves, and my old knife. How about
you?"
"A circular knitting needle," Kenshin said flatly. "And Miss Kaoru's gloves. Other than
those, the box beneath that bench contains Miss Megumi's usual ritual materials, and the
booths in the courtyard will be well-stocked with ofuda. However, none of these will do
much good against Enishi's watou."
Kaoru emerged from under the bench with the silver chain trailing from the fishbone in
her hand. "Will this help? And what's a watou?"
"It's a big-ass sword. Dunno how Enishi settled on the design, but it's got a straight hilt
and a katana blade that's about this long." Yumi stretched out her arms all the way across.
"Hiko has the reach to fight hand-to-hand with him, but damn, I wish he'd given me the
crossbow instead of his sword. So come on already. Stay or go?"
Standing up, Kenshin took the sword from Yumi. "If Enishi's here, he's here for me. Take
Miss Kaoru outside, if you'd be so kind."
"No!" Kaoru protested. "I can help you fight him. I know I can."
"You know how to fight me, but you don't know Enishi. Yumi?"
Yumi folded her arms. "If she wants to stay, I'm not making her leave."
Kenshin sighed. "May I borrow your gloves?" As Kaoru put her hands into her coat
pockets to pull them out, he leapt for the scarf and tied her arms together, then dragged
her out of the gazebo.
"Hey!" As Kaoru stumbled sideways, protesting furiously, Yumi calmly strolled along
behind them. Despite what she'd just said, it didn't look like she meant to interfere with
what Kenshin was doing.
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Kaoru, but I believe this is best for everyone concerned."
"Well, I'm definitely concerned, and I don't agree! What makes you think you get to
decide for both of us?"
They were almost all the way back to the main courtyard now. He stopped, untied the
scarf, and gently turned her to face him. "Because if Enishi kills me, I'll get over it. The
same is certainly not true in your case. If anything were to happen to you...."
Kaoru had the impression from her peripheral vision that Yumi was in the same forced
nonchalance of "I am definitely not looking at this because it isn't happening anyway"
that Kaoru herself had once been stuck in before, back whenYumi had been reunited with
Battousai. Between Kenshin's pleas and Yumi's discomfort, Kaoru wavered, still on the
edge of rebelliousness.
"Well, here he comes," Yumi said, eyes fixed on the entrance. Kaoru looked beyond
Kenshin to see a tall, lithe silhouette bounding up to the crest of the hill atop the torii
crossbars. "Better make up your mind fast."
"Uh, is that his watou behind him?"
"Yep."
"When you said it was a big-ass sword, you didn't say that its total net assitude would
make Anna Nicole Smith look anorexic. Here, take my gloves-- and you never know,
maybe my necklace will come in handy too." Somewhat guiltily, she handed those things
to Kenshin, who gave her one last kiss for good measure. Its intensity more than made up
for its brief duration, and when it ended, she ran for the stairs on wobbly knees. She
barely made it into the protective shadow of the torii as Enishi leaped down into the
courtyard behind her.
---
Hiko wasn't sure whether Joyce was more amused or concerned, and he didn't care
which, as long as his ploy was working. "I wouldn't've thought that you, of all people,
would get so winded from just a long set of stairs like this. Really, Rupert, have you had
your blood pressure checked recently?"
He attempted to smile, hobbling upward as slowly as plausible. "Oh, nothing to worry
about. It's just the autumn chill getting into my joints a bit. As they say, be kind to your
knees; you'll miss them when they're gone."
"Oh dear. Would it help to lean on me?" Without waiting for his reply, she ducked under
his arm, tugging on his wrist as an anchor. "Warm baths are supposed to be really good
for getting the aches out. The dojo's jacuzzi is probably in Yumi's room now, if you didn't
remove it during remodelling, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you used it."
"You are likely correct in all regards mentioned." Oh dear indeed. Whether it was from
her late husband's origami flower or from her own habitual perfume, the faint scent of
roses hung in her hair like the memory of midsummer warmth. In his circle of
acquaintance, most of the women he knew, like most of the men, were essentially
students or rivals, or sometimes both. Joyce was neither, and her shoulders lacked the
lean muscle of a potter or a martial artist, or the chalkboard stoop of a teacher. But like
Kaoru, she had an inner determination to save people from themselves, no matter what.
He felt a rare pang of sympathy for Kenshin and Sano. These Summers women certainly
had a way of getting under your skin, whether they meant to or not. And in Kenshin's
case, there was no question that Kaoru meant to.
After a few more laborious minutes uphill, she patted his arm. "I think we could both use
a rest, as long as there's a bench at this landing. Why don't we sit down?" He sat. "As
long as we're both here, I was wondering-- is there anything I should know about
Kenshin that Kaoru hasn't told me?"
He summoned every atom of serene Zen librarianship he could muster to channel the
now-essence of blank helpfulness, though his facial expression was largely lost in the
lattice of shadows. "What sort of information would you like?"
She sighed. "Oh, I don't know. He's really such a nice boy, but he seems so sad
sometimes. I've still never met his foster parents; you always seem to be the one driving
him around and looking out for him instead. Did you know his family?"
"In a manner of speaking. I believe we're distantly related, though I couldn't specify the
exact degree offhand. But I suppose it's more salient that he was once a student at my
school back in Okusofodo, though I'd never taught him directly. And so I feel a certain
sense of responsibility for him now that we're both here in Edodale."
"That's very sweet of you. Was that where both of you met Yumi?"
"No, I'm afraid that I did not make Miss Komagata's acquaintance until very recently."
"I still haven't met her at all," Joyce said thoughtfully. "Is she very much like Kenshin? I
wonder if she'd be interested in babysitting Yahiko every so often."
Good heavens, no. "I could ask her. But no, she and Kenshin are not terribly alike. She's
quite... vivacious, you might say."
"He is awfully quiet most of the time. Kaoru is always so worried about him, you know."
Somehow, Hiko thought, he had failed to grasp that side of the dynamic. He had
discounted Kenshin's claims of trying to comfort Kaoru for the loss of her father, but the
excuse had always had a certain plausibility. And in that case, it was equally plausible
that Kaoru herself might be trying to comfort Kenshin for the loss of his own self to an
alien bloodlust that had gripped him for ten years and uncounted lives, and from which
there was no ultimate safe haven until his true death.
On the other hand, perhaps this was simply an overly altruistic justification for adolescent
hormones-- which could potentially present as much of a hazard up there in the shrine as
Yukishiro Tomoe having returned to her role as Battousai's first consort, and doubly so if
the two circumstances were to overlap somehow. But he could not possibly lead Joyce
Summers toward whatever was waiting up there, and which had prevented Yumi from
returning.
Joyce was breathing into her palms to warm them, absently rubbing the sapphire ring
with her other hand. "Well," she said, "you sound like your knees have gotten over
themselves for now. What do you say we get to the top of the stairs and plant a flag?"
Just as he opened his mouth for a futile protest, someone came pelting down the stairs,
nearly knocking Joyce over. It was not Yumi. Hiko's crossbow was rearmed and cocked
by the time the figure on the ground staggered back up. "Ow! Mom? What're you doing
here?" Hiko whisked the crossbow onto the bench behind him.
"Kaoru, good grief, what're you doing running around like that? If the stairs were icy, you
could've broken your neck. I came to pick you up, of course."
"Oh yeah. I'm sorry, I forgot how late it was getting, but now that I know, I'm really tired
and I'd like to go home and sleep now. Okay?"
"Did Miss Komagata find you?"
"You didn't tell me Yumi was here. I'd love to dash up and meet her."
"Mom, I'm really, really, really sleepy, and I promised everyone I'd come back first thing
tomorrow morning. So you can meet her then." Kaoru had already started to tug her
mother back toward the parking lot. She called over her shoulder, "Mr. Hiko, Yumi's still
up there with Kenshin. And someone else I haven't really met. They could really use your
help around now. Good night!"
"Oh, Kaoru, really--!"
Hiko smiled ruefully as they disappeared around the bend. He murmured, "Good night,
sweet ladies; good night, good night."
---
Megumi returned from the corner wearing Tomoe's nightgown and carrying the empty
teapot. She felt a little better now, though that didn't really say much. The linen clung
translucently to the residual dampness on her skin, but covered her more than the clotted
shreds of chenille and denim had before. She slumped back into her original chair, in
front of the stain on the rug. "Sorry about the huge mess I'm making of your place. Is he
really your brother?"
"All his life, so far." Tomoe had been dipping her knife into the teacup from before, but
set them both aside as she rose from the other chair into the streetlamp's beam.
"So that means he's Enishi, not Jineh, right? Or are all three of you still working
together?"
"He's whoever he wants to be. Maybe someday he won't be himself any more. Are you
thirsty?"
Megumi glanced nervously at the table between them. The only thing on it that looked
even remotely like a beverage was Enishi's cup, whose contents she really didn't want to
think about at this point. The streetlamp gave it a weird glow, too. "Uh, no."
"I am. And you're still bleeding, little vixen." Tomoe turned away from the window. A
narrow line shone through the loosely flowing shadow of her dark hair.
"So are you," Megumi realized, just as another bright streak leaped up into view.
Holding her by the throat, Tomoe slashed her cheek with the hairpin, across the grain of
the previous cut. The silver tip and mother-of-pearl flowers, as pale as the rest of
Megumi's face, bloomed rose-red when overpainted with her blood. As if it were a
freshly inked brush, Tomoe used it to write on the linen nightgown from neck to navel,
straight down the row of buttons. She completed the last stroke and stood back. Megumi
half-lay in the chair, unable to consciously move anything except for her eyes. The kanji
heaved with her frantic heartbeat.
"It's time to finish changing you now. You don't want to be you. I don't want to be me. I
thought maybe we could be each other instead, but that wouldn't help our little dragon out
there in the night. So we need to be him as well."
As Megumi watched uncomprehendingly, Tomoe opened the hip flask and poured its
contents across the hairpin's bloody tip, spilling out the pungent scent of sake. When the
flask was empty, she stirred the cup with the hairpin, swirling up bubbles that glowed like
drowning fireflies.
When she relinquished the flask for the knife, Megumi flinched away, but Tomoe simply
picked up the bracelet as well and cut the string. Its beads scattered across the table, each
one different from the next: turquoise and lapis lazuli, amethyst and jade. She tucked the
knife into her sash and picked through the beads until she'd found one each of garnet,
citrine, and amber, and added them to the cup as well before raising it to Megumi's
mouth. She held the hairpin to the side as if helping a child drink from a mug with a
spoon still in it. "Here, have a little taste," she coaxed. It tasted the way Megumi would've
expected it to taste, if she'd ever had to think about a mixture of tea, blood, and sake
before: salty and astringently metallic, with a heart of flame.
After sipping it herself, Tomoe set the cup back onto the table amid the discarded beads,
but kept hold of the hairpin. She used it to complete the cross-wound on her own
cheekbone, not even grimacing as the sharp tip tore through her flesh. A pale blue flame
danced around the silver, causing the carved rosewood shaft to blacken and glow.
Quickly, she lowered her knife's tip into the cup once more, holding the burning hairpin
aloft.
"Silver as pure as the sun's mirror, touched with rice. Jewels as bright as the moon,
touched with water. A blade as dark as night, touched with salt. Ancient blood of the
sacred fir, new-kindled flame born from a wooden shaft, pure spirit of the harvest-- by all
these things I ask Inari to take heed of the forged weapon, the winnowed grain, the snared
vixen, and join us into one within your house."
She cast the hairpin into the cup like a spear. Instead of quenching, the blue flame spread
across the entire surface of the liquid. Tomoe stayed perfectly still as it changed to gold,
matching her eyes and her knife's gem. But when the spectrum continued to shift, Tomoe
took Megumi's hand. "Don't worry, Megitstune-chan. Everything will be all right now."
Was the color of the topaz really changing, or was it just reflecting the reddening flames
around the knife? Megumi wasn't sure. The hairpin's wooden shaft was a single crimson
ember now, and as it fell apart into the cup, everything vanished.
---
Rather to Kenshin's annoyance, Yumi shoved him back toward the gazebo as soon as
Kaoru left. "You stay over there," she hissed. "I'll try to talk to 'Nishi-chan and get him
off his guard, and maybe then you'll have an opening to charge in and get his watou
away."
"What about Tomoe?"
"If Enishi had to hop, skip, and jump all the way up here, there's no way she could get
this far unless he carried her, and he wasn't when I saw him. So get the hell back there
and figure out what to do!"
She headed back into the courtyard with her knife, leaving Hiko's sword behind. The
heavy silver gauntlets made a huge bulge in her pockets, but she didn't seem to be
weighted down by them. Reminded by the sight, he slipped on Kaoru's gloves, then
wrapped her necklace a few times around his own throat and dropped the fishbone
through the chain to secure it. It was still warm from her body. So was he.
He always felt terrible about the frozen hurt that settled over Kaoru every time he held
her away, and tonight he'd lowered his guard, expecting Megumi to interrupt them at any
minute. But she hadn't. If Yumi hadn't joined them, anything might have happened.
Resting the silver-wrapped sword across his knees, he put his head in his hands. The
gloves had absorbed the scent and taste of Kaoru's skin, too. As closely as their sewn
rings pressed into his face, he felt even closer to being driven completely insane by what
he wanted from her: his own death and her passionate embrace, either of which, in its
fullest form, would render the other one impossible.
His eyelids burned with unshed tears against his fingers. As he pressed harder against
them, he became aware that the pain was getting worse, and not just in his eyes. He
lowered his hands and saw a faint haze of smoke rising from the silver rings, as well as
from the necklace around his throat. Stung by the familiar sharp heat of his flesh healing
itself, he looked around wildly, rising from the gazebo bench just as the walls burst into
red flame.
At the center of the ring, two forms shimmered into existence, both of whom he
recognized immediately: Megumi and Tomoe. Each of them had cross-shaped cuts
glowing on one cheek, but already fading out of existence as if they had never been
wounded. Tomoe released Megumi's hand, letting her collapse onto the floor. Before he
could say a word, Tomoe reached out to touch his face, kissed his scar, and stabbed him
through the heart with her tanto. Its jewel flared and pulsed, as bright crimson as his ruby
had ever been.
He couldn't be killed this way, but both of them knew perfectly well what had happened
when Jineh had done this to him before. He could already feel his strength pouring into
her, leaving him as helpless as Megumi. Tomoe smiled gently. "Don't you worry," she
whispered to him. "It's just that you can't make an omelet without breaking some legs.
Now don't you go anywhere, love, because I'll be back soon enough. But it's all for your
own good, you'll see."
Like the jewel on her knife, the ring of flame was fading from red to gold, returning the
night to its former darkness and more. As the last few sparks winked out, Tomoe kissed
him once more, pulled the tanto from his chest, and cut his throat.
-----
Kaoru's makeout session with the Hitokiri Oro-chan was brought to you by the reviewing
sponsorship of Jason M. Lee and his abject system shock from the alternately-paired
smutbiscuit. I hope this makes him feel better. Say thank you to him.
http://www.inari.jp is the website for what appears to be the mother ship of all Inari
shrines. However, it's entirely in Japanese, which I can't read. Pretty pictures, though.
Photochromic lenses are constructed with a layer of light-sensitive material that darkens
in bright light but is colorless in near-dark.
yabusame: a Shinto ritual that requires a mounted archer to aim at three targets while
galloping at full speed, usually performed with a composite longbow for which the word
is (coincidentally enough, though written with different characters) "yumi".
Kawasaki rose: http://isd.canberra.edu.au/~mig/roses.htm
sweet ladies: Hamlet IV.v. 74 (Ophelia)
I know, I know, another cliffhanger-- but it was either wind up the entire fight in two
pages or let it have a full chapter to itself. Nemo: wrt to Kaoru's dad, yeah, I've been
worrying that she seems too casual about it, but my in-story handwave is that she's
sublimating all of her grief into trying to jump Kenshin, and my external excuse is that
(whether fortunately or not) I feel more competent to write about relationship angst of
various flavors than about the stages of bereavement.
hose on everyone in this chapter. Sheesh.
Edodale
By wombat
Chapter 15
As it fell over her from above, Kenshin's enormous coat hood completely enveloped
Kaoru's face. It held the mingled warm scents of autumn leaves, woodsmoke, and the
cinnamon/bitter-almond aura of his hair. She remembered Sano's complete disavowal of
the garment once it reappeared a few weeks after donation, with the original olive-drab
canvas completely relined by sashiko-quilted lattices of rose, violet, and blue over the
inevitable fuschia background. The only colors she could see within its concealing
darkness right now, though, were the fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids.
"Oooh. Kenshin?"
"Ymmph?" He didn't stop kissing her neck, if what he was doing technically qualified as
kissing: trailing slightly-parted lips across it, with the faintest drag of soft friction
emphasized by his warm breath. She wriggled to get his attention, but it didn't have much
effect. He paused in place to suck the fishbone pendant up into his mouth and then
relinquished it back down again, hot and damp in the hollow of her throat.
No wonder Hiko had been upset when he'd caught them like this before, except for her
being buttoned inside Kenshin's coat now. If Kenshin really wanted to hurt her, she'd be
completely helpless, with her wrists held flat against the gazebo bench and the rest of her
body pinned down between his knees. But she never seemed to be able to stop herself
from trying to tug his shirttail out, and everything was bound to go downhill from there.
On second thought, the noise he'd made against her shoulder suggested that he'd rather
liked that wriggle, despite his best intentions. She tried it again. He gasped and bit her.
"Ow!"
Instantly apologetic, he backed off a bit, nudging his head up against her chin. "I'm
terribly sorry," he breathed. "Was there something you wanted to say?"
"I was just thinking-- maybe you should take your hood off, so at least one of us can see
if Megumi shows up after all."
"Perhaps you're right," he said, but still didn't move. After a moment, he nosed down into
her shirt and started to trace her clavicle with his tongue. She squirmed again, this time
involuntarily. He seemed to have better control over his response now, lightly closing his
teeth around the round outline of the bone. "Whllphm?" he asked, flicking his tongue
across her skin.
"Ooh... no, I'm serious. She'd be really embarrassed, and we shouldn't make her waste all
the advance work she did for tonight."
"I suppose not." His sigh was warm inside her collar. "Perhaps we ought to have waited
until after the ritual after all. But as Mr. Harris says, 'Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.'
And your skin does taste very nice. Are you certain I should put the hood back if you're
still cold?"
A pleasant shiver had run through her at his previous remark. She shook her head. "I'm
not cold. Or I won't be if you untie your hair. I'd be able to see the moon through it, too."
He lifted the edge of the hood and peered up. "No, I'm afraid you wouldn't. It's directly
above the gazebo roof now." She took advantage of his lapse of attention to lunge up and
plant some suction on his own exposed neck. The result bore some resemblance to his
being-scritched posture, except with louder breathing. In fact, he went limp enough for
her to flip him over onto his back. Weakly, he protested, "You promised, you know."
"I know. But if you get to do this to me, I should get to do this to you. Like you always
say, all I'm doing is kissing your neck, and that shouldn't cause any problems with
anyone." She was pretty sure he was enjoying this more than he wanted to, because he
was trying very hard not to move. When she licked the fine crease between the top of his
neck and the underside of his chin, it felt like he started to try very hard not to breathe,
too.
In strangled bursts, he said, "You're perfectly right. I see now that it was very, very
wrong of me to do this to you, and I'll never do it again. So I think you ought to stop."
"But that's not a very good reason for me to stop, is it?" She sucked the crease into her
lips and nipped it. His entire body jerked, and a fine salt dew cropped up against her face.
"Oro!" His hands bit into her waist. "Very well, I'll never do this to you again unless you
stop right now? Is that better?"
"No, that's still pretty unfair," she said, through the delicate grip of her teeth. "Besides,
you taste nice, too, kind of like okonomiyaki. Oof!" He'd hooked one leg over the edge of
the bench, and flipped both of them onto the ground below it. At least his hood had ended
up behind his back this time. Moonlit reflections from the pond were pouring all around
them in bright waves. "Pretty stars," she noted giddily.
He glanced over his shoulder to see what she meant. "But Miss Kaoru, that's just the
inside of the roof."
"Not there. The water's reflecting into your eyes all sparkly."
"Oh. All right then," he said, and kissed her lids shut again.
---
Outside the shrine, Enishi sat in his parked car. The little vixen had said Battousai and the
Kamiya girl would only stay there for a few hours. But if he waited for them to come out
on their own, they'd know Megumi had completely missed their rendezvous and would
be on their guard. So he'd have to go in after them first. In the meantime, though, there
wasn't any need to crowd the playing field with extra obstacles running about. A gaggle
of miko was still loitering around the entrance, slowly drifting apart toward footpaths,
bicycles, or the other cars around him in the lot.
When the last extra miko had gone away, Enishi pulled his watou out of the back seat. He
didn't bother strapping its harness on this time, merely toting the sheathed sword over his
shoulder by the long silk cord that hung from the hilt. Twirling the tassels at the end, he
strolled toward the gap in the shrine walls and the red stylized arch that stood over it. Just
his luck this would have to be one of Inari's shrines. If there were just one or two torii as
in most other sorts of shrine, he might've taken his chances and run for it. But here was a
whole forest of the bloody things lining the entire main walkway through the grounds,
and that could get ticklish. Still, if Battousai could get in somehow, so could he.
Experimentally, he ducked his head under the first torii. His hair rose up on end even
more than usual, with a dangerous crackle and the ozone scent of static electricity. Before
sparks could start flying, he ducked back out to make rude gestures at the fox statues that
guarded the support posts. This was going to be a bit of a puzzle. He liked puzzles.
His glasses' new photochromic lenses provided an unobstructed view of the hillside.
Spaced several yards apart, the arcade of torii curved their way up like a dragon's spine,
lightly scaled with silver by the gibbous moon above. Their crossbars were three or four
times his height, and he doubted they'd take kindly to him clambering up their sides. He
didn't remember this particular shrine, but whoever built these high walls had known
about him and the others. Even at arm's length, he could sense the fir needles and salt
baked into the bricks, as well the protective ofuda laid into the mortar that had been
mixed with rice and sake. Not a chance he could climb up those, either. So how had
Battousai wangled his way in? Crawled through some rathole like Jineh? Found a tree
whose branches reached over the wall?
Abruptly, Enishi got tired of this and sauntered away. Halfway to his car, he turned and
took a running leap back toward the torii. Vaulting onto the top with his watou, he kept
its tassels firmly in hand and swung it up on its cord to join him. As he landed on the
crossbar, he slung the sword back over his shoulder like a cat balancing itself with its tail.
There were no ill effects to his feet at all, not even the vague twingy itch of a pinched
nerve. He leaped forward to the second torii, counterbalanced again, gauged the distance
to the next, and so onward.
The least they could've done was space the torii evenly, but then again, it was more of a
challenge this way. If he had to, he could probably drop down between them or just jump
straight off to the side. But if Battousai really didn't have his sword with him, as the little
vixen had claimed, this was going to be the most real fun Enishi was going to have
tonight. Tomorrow would be a different story, after he'd trussed up the brat and dragged
him back to Tomoe so she could see just how pitiful he was. And then there would be the
days and years ahead in their new home, an eternity of deathless pain for Battousai and
bliss with Tomoe, and her sad face would smile beneath his kisses at last.
---
Judging from the strands left unspotted by drying blood, the girl's hair really was the
bright tawny shade of a fox's pelt. But the other half of Enishi's nickname for her must
have been only in comparison to his own height. As far Tomoe could judge from the
crumpled misery on the floor in front of her, the girl was almost exactly her own height
and build, though in much worse condition: poised on the twilight edge of consciousness,
able to feel and voice fresh pain but not to fight it off.
Enishi's half-finished cup sat on the table nearby, along with a few things he'd dumped
out of his pockets before leaving: a hip flask, a bracelet of semiprecious beads that he
used as worry stones, and some candy. Tomoe took the cup, left her tanto in its place, and
dipped her handkerchief into the tepid tea to wipe the girl's face clean. It was impossible
to see the color of her eyes within their frame of cuts and bruises; terror and exhaustion
had dilated her pupils until the irises were hollow rings of frayed thread, like the sound of
her voice. "Um, hi. I think I should know who you are, or at least I might know if I could
think right now. But maybe you're not who I would've thought you were anyway. I'm
sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?"
"Take care of the sense, and the sensibilities will take care of themselves. My name is
Tomoe. Yukishiro Tomoe. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"At least one of us is. Oh gosh, I'm not normally this rude, but I'm really not at my best
right now. My name's Megumi. Megumi Rosenberg?" It sounded like a question,
pleading to not be herself any more. "Is that his knife again, or yours? I don't remember
the yellow stone from before."
"It's the very same tanto that he borrowed from me. The topaz came back to it after he'd
finished with you for the evening. Do you like it?"
"Did I do that?" She stared up at Tomoe. "Does that mean I'm going to die?"
"We all die. I've done it several times myself, you know."
"Did it hurt very much?" Megumi's voice was trembling and fading, like ripples at the
edge of a pool. "I don't think I can hurt any more than this. But then again, I thought that
about five minutes after he started, and I was already wrong then."
"It's very peaceful, really. Almost like taking a nap, except for the waking up." Tomoe
squeezed the reddened handkerchief back into the cup and moistened it again with clean
tea from the pot. "I didn't mean to pry, but I couldn't help overhearing some of your little
chat earlier."
"Just the screaming part, or some of the actual words part? I think the screaming was a lot
louder, because even my ears are still ringing. Unless that's just left over from when he
hit me."
"Hush a bye, little vixen, and I'll clean up you and your rags. Just lie still a bit and rest
while he's away."
A note of hope crept into her voice. "Really? Where did he go?"
"Hush, I said." The last smears of blood wiped away from Megumi's skin, except for a
long cut stubbornly seeping down one cheek. After one last rinse with tea, Tomoe helped
her sit up. "Is it really the fashion now to wear bits of string? Can you put it on by rolling
about in it like a kitten?"
Woozily, Megumi looked down at her torso. "Oh yuck, my nose bled all over my
sweater. Or what's left of it. Or was that from my nose?"
"Here, take the teapot into the corner to finish washing up. You can put on the nightgown
back there instead. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain."
"I thought you said he'd gone away." She sounded fearful again.
"He has, after a fashion. Oh, you mean my baby brother? Why, he's gone where you told
him, where Kenshin's been waiting for you all this time with a girl at his belt instead of a
sword. But let's change you now, why don't we?"
---
Yumi tugged at the impromptu naginata, testing her knife's attachment point to the
broomstick despite the limited space in Hiko's car. The black blade swung dangerously
close to him as they sped around a corner. She kicked the box between her feet upright
again, catching most of the crossbow bolts and fishbones before they rolled under her
seat. "I don't know what's up with Tomoe right now, but you guys need more and better
backup weapons. Any idea what they've already got with them?"
"Certainly not Battousai's sword." Hiko grimaced as they whipped past a slow-moving
sedan. "At most, Miss Kamiya-Summers may have brought her bokken, though I don't
believe she has a spool of silver wire with which to wrap it. Kenshin has wire and tools in
his quarters at school, but I doubt he would have brought them here. We had best hope
Miss Rosenberg's usual prowess will be aided by the shrine precincts."
"Yeesh." She hung onto the window frame as they rounded the last curve toward the
shrine parking lot. "If you're still using perfect grammar while driving this fast, you've
either had too much sake or not enough. Looks like everyone else cleared out already--
just a couple of bicycles and one car." They pulled up next to it, and Hiko tossed his keys
to Yumi so she could open the trunk while he inspected the other vehicle. She fetched out
the crossbow and his sword, the latter already encased in its own silver coil, but tossed
the broomstick back in.
"You've abandoned the naginata?"
"It wasn't much of one. The duct tape won't hold firm. I'll just bring the knife as is." She
waved it at him.
He straightened up from the tinted glass. "Even the windows are still warm. Its owner
must have arrived shortly before we did."
"I don't think Tomoe can drive, so Enishi's probably still carting her around. So if they're
here, that car's his. Want me to slash the tires?"
While he had never made a study of how quickly women could dress or undress, he'd
been discreetly amazed at the speed at which she'd completely stripped away her linen-
suited demureness, albeit mercifully concealed from him in the privacy of her own room.
It nearly inspired an image of her holding her knife in the air with a cry of "Leather-clad
biker-chick power, make up!" Nearly, but not quite.
"We should be doing a grave disservice to its owners if we're mistaken. If we circle the
edge of the lot, perhaps we can spot footprints in the dew and track them. Do you have
everything?"
"The box is still under the dashboard," she said, carrying the weapons up to the front of
the car. "Got your gloves?"
"Yes, they're in my pocket." He turned toward the new set of headlights turning toward
them from the main road. The motion instantly blurred into a leap over his car's hood.
When he landed, he smacked the chainmail gauntlets into her hands and took the
crossbow from her. "Go on ahead. I'll join you presently."
By the time he'd opened the door and fitted a bolt into the crossbow, Yumi's shadow was
disappearing under the first of the torii winding up the hill. He narrowed his eyes toward
the approaching lights as he pulled the firing lever back. She was right, they did need a
wider array of weapons. If he had to face two opponents, he might have time to reload
after his first shot. Then again, he might not. The car slowed as it approached him, then
turned to park in the next aisle over, where the driver's window rolled down.
Joyce Summers' greeting sounded warier than usual. "Hello, Rupert. Planning to help
with the yabusame at the opening ceremonies tomorrow?"
Guiltily, Hiko lowered the crossbow. "Something of the sort. To what do I owe the
pleasure of your company?"
"Oh, I'm here to pick up Kaoru. She was supposed to bike home, but she must've lost
track of time while helping Megumi. Are you here to pick up Kenshin?"
"In a manner of speaking." He leaned into his own car again to leave the crossbow on
Yumi's seat, but turned around with it still in his hands when he heard Joyce's door open
and close. "Are you going into the shrine?"
"Well, yes. We might as well get a sneak peek at the festival decorations, don't you
think?"
"Er." Quickly, he hooked the disarmed crossbow over his belt and stuffed the bolt into a
coat pocket, leaving the car seat empty. "Actually, this seems an opportune time to take
up a different matter, if you have a moment. While I was rearranging the back room of
your dojo into a potter's workshop, I found an object left beneath a loose floor tile. It
must be your property. I considered asking Kaoru to bring it to you, but that didn't seem
quite appropriate."
Successfully diverted away from the shrine, Joyce peered into his glove compartment as
he rummaged around in it. "My goodness. I don't recall ever losing anything back there.
It used to be the men's locker room, after all."
"Indeed so. I'll let you decide for yourself, in any case." After locating the scrap of silk,
he relinquished it to her along with the passenger's seat. The soft gauze held a fist-sized
box, which opened to reveal an elaborate origami flower. "A Kawasaki rose, I believe. If
I'm not mistaken, it was wet-folded from washi, allowed to dry, and then lightly sprayed
with perfume to add scent and make the paper translucent. There appears to be something
inside it, but I thought I'd best leave that alone."
Beneath the interior light of the car, the rose glowed like the moon behind a cloud.
Reluctantly, Joyce unfolded it, destroying the pearly symmetry. At its heart lay a sapphire
ring in a nest of finely written script. "Oh, Koshijirou...." Blinking away the threat of
tears, she smiled up at Hiko. "When he proposed, he hid the engagement ring inside a
blue paper rose instead. This year's wedding anniversary would've been the same number
as the age when we first met. He must've been saving this for my birthday, the week
after--"
"I didn't mean to grieve you, Ms. Summers. Please, you don't owe me any explanations."
Hiko had already averted his eyes from the haiku written on the paper, not because of any
unseemliness in its wording, but because he felt like an interloper for even glancing at its
depth of emotion. "Would you like me to go in and fetch Kaoru while you compose
yourself?"
"That would be very kind of you, but really, I shouldn't impose--"
"No imposition at all," he demurred. "After all, as you said, I need to go fetch out
Kenshin anyway."
"Well, we can both go in together, then." Surreptitiously wiping her eyes, Joyce slipped
the ring onto her hand and straightened up, gently closing Hiko's door behind her. "Let's
go see what our kids are up to, why don't we?"
---
Around the bend from the parking lot, Enishi cocked his head at the stairs beneath him.
He was about two-thirds of the way up the hill, and a set of curves in black leather had
just passed below. Could that be...? No. Yes? He'd never agreed with Jineh that Battousai
must've killed Yumi, and couldn't much blame her for running away. But if it was Yumi,
what was she doing here? For that matter, how was she getting through the torii?
The runner emerged from the far end and headed across the courtyard, dodging around
garlands and booths. It had to be Yumi. And she was carrying a sword-- not Battousai's,
because the blade reflected the moonlight brightly instead of drinking it down into night-
black. Some sort of protective talisman? He'd have to ask her about that, once he caught
up with her.
After crossing half of the remaining torii, he peered further into the grounds in search of
Yumi or Battousai. There was the liquid shimmer of water through the trees, faintly
echoing with something he might've mistaken for birdsong if not for the time and season.
He listened closely, and grinned. Even after this long, he would've known that sound
anywhere: the distinctive muffled cries of some girl Battousai was having his way with.
No wonder Yumi had been in such a hurry. Enishi sped up his own pace, loping easily
from one crossbar to the next toward the skeletal shadow of the gazebo.
---
Kenshin's coat was unbuttoned all the way down now, and so was Kaoru's. It wouldn't be
exactly accurate to say she'd never dreamed he would ever do anything like this, but she
hadn't realistically expected it. Technically, they were still within the boundaries he'd set
up before, in that none of their clothing was out of order except for their coats, which
didn't really count. But technicalities seemed a bit beside the point at the moment.
For example, while her hands weren't actually tied together, they might as well have
been, considering how thoroughly he'd wrapped them for warmth in the scarf that he'd
been knitting. The two of them were up on the gazebo bench again, where the entire
length of his body lay pressed closely over her, warm and tense and writhingly alive. One
of his own hands was clamped over her mouth, constraining her sound and movement as
his hair slid across her face like a shroud of burning silk. She suspected she'd just bitten
him, but wasn't really sure. He hadn't made any sort of "hey, you bit me" protest, but then
neither of them had said anything useful for a while now. Not that she could anyway, but
he'd even stopped asking her whether she liked whatever he was doing. But it was
probably pretty obvious.
Her fishbone pendant had fallen out of its holding loop some time ago, and now the entire
chain finished unwinding itself and tumbled down behind her neck. Afraid of losing the
necklace, she deliberately bit him harder to get his attention. He merely bit her in return,
plunging white lightning all the way down her spine. Ironically, it was her answering
scream that made him stop. "I'm sorry," he panted into her shoulder. "Did I hurt you?"
"Nmph," she mumbled, but kicked his ankle when he started to settle back into place.
Belatedly, he took his hand off her mouth to let her speak clearly. "My fishbone fell off.
Help me find it?"
"Can't it wait?" His face was hidden by his hood's shadow again, but she already knew
the expression that went with that tone of voice: wide-eyed and desperate, poised on the
knife-edge of anguish. Every other time, though, he'd been pleading with her to stop
pushing him, not the complete reverse that was happening now. She really didn't want
him to stop yet, but she didn't want her necklace to fall into the pond, either.
"It should only take a minute. Help me unwind this?" The scarf was still wrapping her
hands firmly together, despite her best efforts from inside it.
A reluctant sigh escaped him, but he sat back on his knees and pulled her half-upright. As
he began to feel around the knitted bundle for the end of the scarf, Kaoru made the
strategic error of resting her head against his shoulder and kissing his ear. His search
quickly began to wander off track, until he'd drawn her up into his lap for even more
insistent kisses. Eventually, the loosened scarf fell between them, utterly forgotten.
"Whoa!" Yumi's voice interrupted them from just outside the gazebo, a while later.
"Where's Megumi?"
Okay, since the gazebo hadn't spontaneously combusted yet from their kissing, Kaoru's
blush wasn't going to do it either, but that wasn't much comfort to her. "We don't know.
She never showed up. What time is it?"
Kenshin shook his hood back, letting the lanterns behind Yumi fleck his eyes with golden
light again. "And if I might ask, what are you doing here?"
"I think that's my line," Yumi said. She leaned over the railing and rested the end of
Hiko's silver-wrapped katana on their bench. "Look, it's none of my business, but jeez,
can you knock it off for a bit?. From the looks of your sword back in the gallery, we think
Tomoe's on the loose. And whaddaya mean, Megumi never showed up? We thought her
new ritual must've been what set Tomoe off, but if that's not it, then something's getting
really screwy around here. Well, something else."
It was a good thing Kaoru's necklace had already fallen off. The way her blush was
heating up even more, the silver might've melted by now. She untangled her limbs so she
could crawl under the bench to rummage through the leaves on the gazebo floor. The
conversation continued above her. "Tomoe, but no one else? That's odd."
"Well, no one else by the time we headed out, but I saw Enishi climbing his way up here
on top of the torii, and he's got his watou with him. Even if he hasn't already poked
Tomoe with it to recover his own powers, he's going to be trouble. And I didn't see
Tomoe anywhere, so she could already be on the grounds. Not only that, but someone
else drove up to join the party when Hiko sent me in ahead. So I don't know if you two
would rather get out of here or stay put, but this is not a good time to be getting in touch
with your inner Viagra bunnies."
"Did you bring any weapons?"
"Hiko's got the crossbow and some fishbones back in the car, but it might take him a
while to bring them up. I've got his sword and gloves, and my old knife. How about
you?"
"A circular knitting needle," Kenshin said flatly. "And Miss Kaoru's gloves. Other than
those, the box beneath that bench contains Miss Megumi's usual ritual materials, and the
booths in the courtyard will be well-stocked with ofuda. However, none of these will do
much good against Enishi's watou."
Kaoru emerged from under the bench with the silver chain trailing from the fishbone in
her hand. "Will this help? And what's a watou?"
"It's a big-ass sword. Dunno how Enishi settled on the design, but it's got a straight hilt
and a katana blade that's about this long." Yumi stretched out her arms all the way across.
"Hiko has the reach to fight hand-to-hand with him, but damn, I wish he'd given me the
crossbow instead of his sword. So come on already. Stay or go?"
Standing up, Kenshin took the sword from Yumi. "If Enishi's here, he's here for me. Take
Miss Kaoru outside, if you'd be so kind."
"No!" Kaoru protested. "I can help you fight him. I know I can."
"You know how to fight me, but you don't know Enishi. Yumi?"
Yumi folded her arms. "If she wants to stay, I'm not making her leave."
Kenshin sighed. "May I borrow your gloves?" As Kaoru put her hands into her coat
pockets to pull them out, he leapt for the scarf and tied her arms together, then dragged
her out of the gazebo.
"Hey!" As Kaoru stumbled sideways, protesting furiously, Yumi calmly strolled along
behind them. Despite what she'd just said, it didn't look like she meant to interfere with
what Kenshin was doing.
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Kaoru, but I believe this is best for everyone concerned."
"Well, I'm definitely concerned, and I don't agree! What makes you think you get to
decide for both of us?"
They were almost all the way back to the main courtyard now. He stopped, untied the
scarf, and gently turned her to face him. "Because if Enishi kills me, I'll get over it. The
same is certainly not true in your case. If anything were to happen to you...."
Kaoru had the impression from her peripheral vision that Yumi was in the same forced
nonchalance of "I am definitely not looking at this because it isn't happening anyway"
that Kaoru herself had once been stuck in before, back whenYumi had been reunited with
Battousai. Between Kenshin's pleas and Yumi's discomfort, Kaoru wavered, still on the
edge of rebelliousness.
"Well, here he comes," Yumi said, eyes fixed on the entrance. Kaoru looked beyond
Kenshin to see a tall, lithe silhouette bounding up to the crest of the hill atop the torii
crossbars. "Better make up your mind fast."
"Uh, is that his watou behind him?"
"Yep."
"When you said it was a big-ass sword, you didn't say that its total net assitude would
make Anna Nicole Smith look anorexic. Here, take my gloves-- and you never know,
maybe my necklace will come in handy too." Somewhat guiltily, she handed those things
to Kenshin, who gave her one last kiss for good measure. Its intensity more than made up
for its brief duration, and when it ended, she ran for the stairs on wobbly knees. She
barely made it into the protective shadow of the torii as Enishi leaped down into the
courtyard behind her.
---
Hiko wasn't sure whether Joyce was more amused or concerned, and he didn't care
which, as long as his ploy was working. "I wouldn't've thought that you, of all people,
would get so winded from just a long set of stairs like this. Really, Rupert, have you had
your blood pressure checked recently?"
He attempted to smile, hobbling upward as slowly as plausible. "Oh, nothing to worry
about. It's just the autumn chill getting into my joints a bit. As they say, be kind to your
knees; you'll miss them when they're gone."
"Oh dear. Would it help to lean on me?" Without waiting for his reply, she ducked under
his arm, tugging on his wrist as an anchor. "Warm baths are supposed to be really good
for getting the aches out. The dojo's jacuzzi is probably in Yumi's room now, if you didn't
remove it during remodelling, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you used it."
"You are likely correct in all regards mentioned." Oh dear indeed. Whether it was from
her late husband's origami flower or from her own habitual perfume, the faint scent of
roses hung in her hair like the memory of midsummer warmth. In his circle of
acquaintance, most of the women he knew, like most of the men, were essentially
students or rivals, or sometimes both. Joyce was neither, and her shoulders lacked the
lean muscle of a potter or a martial artist, or the chalkboard stoop of a teacher. But like
Kaoru, she had an inner determination to save people from themselves, no matter what.
He felt a rare pang of sympathy for Kenshin and Sano. These Summers women certainly
had a way of getting under your skin, whether they meant to or not. And in Kenshin's
case, there was no question that Kaoru meant to.
After a few more laborious minutes uphill, she patted his arm. "I think we could both use
a rest, as long as there's a bench at this landing. Why don't we sit down?" He sat. "As
long as we're both here, I was wondering-- is there anything I should know about
Kenshin that Kaoru hasn't told me?"
He summoned every atom of serene Zen librarianship he could muster to channel the
now-essence of blank helpfulness, though his facial expression was largely lost in the
lattice of shadows. "What sort of information would you like?"
She sighed. "Oh, I don't know. He's really such a nice boy, but he seems so sad
sometimes. I've still never met his foster parents; you always seem to be the one driving
him around and looking out for him instead. Did you know his family?"
"In a manner of speaking. I believe we're distantly related, though I couldn't specify the
exact degree offhand. But I suppose it's more salient that he was once a student at my
school back in Okusofodo, though I'd never taught him directly. And so I feel a certain
sense of responsibility for him now that we're both here in Edodale."
"That's very sweet of you. Was that where both of you met Yumi?"
"No, I'm afraid that I did not make Miss Komagata's acquaintance until very recently."
"I still haven't met her at all," Joyce said thoughtfully. "Is she very much like Kenshin? I
wonder if she'd be interested in babysitting Yahiko every so often."
Good heavens, no. "I could ask her. But no, she and Kenshin are not terribly alike. She's
quite... vivacious, you might say."
"He is awfully quiet most of the time. Kaoru is always so worried about him, you know."
Somehow, Hiko thought, he had failed to grasp that side of the dynamic. He had
discounted Kenshin's claims of trying to comfort Kaoru for the loss of her father, but the
excuse had always had a certain plausibility. And in that case, it was equally plausible
that Kaoru herself might be trying to comfort Kenshin for the loss of his own self to an
alien bloodlust that had gripped him for ten years and uncounted lives, and from which
there was no ultimate safe haven until his true death.
On the other hand, perhaps this was simply an overly altruistic justification for adolescent
hormones-- which could potentially present as much of a hazard up there in the shrine as
Yukishiro Tomoe having returned to her role as Battousai's first consort, and doubly so if
the two circumstances were to overlap somehow. But he could not possibly lead Joyce
Summers toward whatever was waiting up there, and which had prevented Yumi from
returning.
Joyce was breathing into her palms to warm them, absently rubbing the sapphire ring
with her other hand. "Well," she said, "you sound like your knees have gotten over
themselves for now. What do you say we get to the top of the stairs and plant a flag?"
Just as he opened his mouth for a futile protest, someone came pelting down the stairs,
nearly knocking Joyce over. It was not Yumi. Hiko's crossbow was rearmed and cocked
by the time the figure on the ground staggered back up. "Ow! Mom? What're you doing
here?" Hiko whisked the crossbow onto the bench behind him.
"Kaoru, good grief, what're you doing running around like that? If the stairs were icy, you
could've broken your neck. I came to pick you up, of course."
"Oh yeah. I'm sorry, I forgot how late it was getting, but now that I know, I'm really tired
and I'd like to go home and sleep now. Okay?"
"Did Miss Komagata find you?"
"You didn't tell me Yumi was here. I'd love to dash up and meet her."
"Mom, I'm really, really, really sleepy, and I promised everyone I'd come back first thing
tomorrow morning. So you can meet her then." Kaoru had already started to tug her
mother back toward the parking lot. She called over her shoulder, "Mr. Hiko, Yumi's still
up there with Kenshin. And someone else I haven't really met. They could really use your
help around now. Good night!"
"Oh, Kaoru, really--!"
Hiko smiled ruefully as they disappeared around the bend. He murmured, "Good night,
sweet ladies; good night, good night."
---
Megumi returned from the corner wearing Tomoe's nightgown and carrying the empty
teapot. She felt a little better now, though that didn't really say much. The linen clung
translucently to the residual dampness on her skin, but covered her more than the clotted
shreds of chenille and denim had before. She slumped back into her original chair, in
front of the stain on the rug. "Sorry about the huge mess I'm making of your place. Is he
really your brother?"
"All his life, so far." Tomoe had been dipping her knife into the teacup from before, but
set them both aside as she rose from the other chair into the streetlamp's beam.
"So that means he's Enishi, not Jineh, right? Or are all three of you still working
together?"
"He's whoever he wants to be. Maybe someday he won't be himself any more. Are you
thirsty?"
Megumi glanced nervously at the table between them. The only thing on it that looked
even remotely like a beverage was Enishi's cup, whose contents she really didn't want to
think about at this point. The streetlamp gave it a weird glow, too. "Uh, no."
"I am. And you're still bleeding, little vixen." Tomoe turned away from the window. A
narrow line shone through the loosely flowing shadow of her dark hair.
"So are you," Megumi realized, just as another bright streak leaped up into view.
Holding her by the throat, Tomoe slashed her cheek with the hairpin, across the grain of
the previous cut. The silver tip and mother-of-pearl flowers, as pale as the rest of
Megumi's face, bloomed rose-red when overpainted with her blood. As if it were a
freshly inked brush, Tomoe used it to write on the linen nightgown from neck to navel,
straight down the row of buttons. She completed the last stroke and stood back. Megumi
half-lay in the chair, unable to consciously move anything except for her eyes. The kanji
heaved with her frantic heartbeat.
"It's time to finish changing you now. You don't want to be you. I don't want to be me. I
thought maybe we could be each other instead, but that wouldn't help our little dragon out
there in the night. So we need to be him as well."
As Megumi watched uncomprehendingly, Tomoe opened the hip flask and poured its
contents across the hairpin's bloody tip, spilling out the pungent scent of sake. When the
flask was empty, she stirred the cup with the hairpin, swirling up bubbles that glowed like
drowning fireflies.
When she relinquished the flask for the knife, Megumi flinched away, but Tomoe simply
picked up the bracelet as well and cut the string. Its beads scattered across the table, each
one different from the next: turquoise and lapis lazuli, amethyst and jade. She tucked the
knife into her sash and picked through the beads until she'd found one each of garnet,
citrine, and amber, and added them to the cup as well before raising it to Megumi's
mouth. She held the hairpin to the side as if helping a child drink from a mug with a
spoon still in it. "Here, have a little taste," she coaxed. It tasted the way Megumi would've
expected it to taste, if she'd ever had to think about a mixture of tea, blood, and sake
before: salty and astringently metallic, with a heart of flame.
After sipping it herself, Tomoe set the cup back onto the table amid the discarded beads,
but kept hold of the hairpin. She used it to complete the cross-wound on her own
cheekbone, not even grimacing as the sharp tip tore through her flesh. A pale blue flame
danced around the silver, causing the carved rosewood shaft to blacken and glow.
Quickly, she lowered her knife's tip into the cup once more, holding the burning hairpin
aloft.
"Silver as pure as the sun's mirror, touched with rice. Jewels as bright as the moon,
touched with water. A blade as dark as night, touched with salt. Ancient blood of the
sacred fir, new-kindled flame born from a wooden shaft, pure spirit of the harvest-- by all
these things I ask Inari to take heed of the forged weapon, the winnowed grain, the snared
vixen, and join us into one within your house."
She cast the hairpin into the cup like a spear. Instead of quenching, the blue flame spread
across the entire surface of the liquid. Tomoe stayed perfectly still as it changed to gold,
matching her eyes and her knife's gem. But when the spectrum continued to shift, Tomoe
took Megumi's hand. "Don't worry, Megitstune-chan. Everything will be all right now."
Was the color of the topaz really changing, or was it just reflecting the reddening flames
around the knife? Megumi wasn't sure. The hairpin's wooden shaft was a single crimson
ember now, and as it fell apart into the cup, everything vanished.
---
Rather to Kenshin's annoyance, Yumi shoved him back toward the gazebo as soon as
Kaoru left. "You stay over there," she hissed. "I'll try to talk to 'Nishi-chan and get him
off his guard, and maybe then you'll have an opening to charge in and get his watou
away."
"What about Tomoe?"
"If Enishi had to hop, skip, and jump all the way up here, there's no way she could get
this far unless he carried her, and he wasn't when I saw him. So get the hell back there
and figure out what to do!"
She headed back into the courtyard with her knife, leaving Hiko's sword behind. The
heavy silver gauntlets made a huge bulge in her pockets, but she didn't seem to be
weighted down by them. Reminded by the sight, he slipped on Kaoru's gloves, then
wrapped her necklace a few times around his own throat and dropped the fishbone
through the chain to secure it. It was still warm from her body. So was he.
He always felt terrible about the frozen hurt that settled over Kaoru every time he held
her away, and tonight he'd lowered his guard, expecting Megumi to interrupt them at any
minute. But she hadn't. If Yumi hadn't joined them, anything might have happened.
Resting the silver-wrapped sword across his knees, he put his head in his hands. The
gloves had absorbed the scent and taste of Kaoru's skin, too. As closely as their sewn
rings pressed into his face, he felt even closer to being driven completely insane by what
he wanted from her: his own death and her passionate embrace, either of which, in its
fullest form, would render the other one impossible.
His eyelids burned with unshed tears against his fingers. As he pressed harder against
them, he became aware that the pain was getting worse, and not just in his eyes. He
lowered his hands and saw a faint haze of smoke rising from the silver rings, as well as
from the necklace around his throat. Stung by the familiar sharp heat of his flesh healing
itself, he looked around wildly, rising from the gazebo bench just as the walls burst into
red flame.
At the center of the ring, two forms shimmered into existence, both of whom he
recognized immediately: Megumi and Tomoe. Each of them had cross-shaped cuts
glowing on one cheek, but already fading out of existence as if they had never been
wounded. Tomoe released Megumi's hand, letting her collapse onto the floor. Before he
could say a word, Tomoe reached out to touch his face, kissed his scar, and stabbed him
through the heart with her tanto. Its jewel flared and pulsed, as bright crimson as his ruby
had ever been.
He couldn't be killed this way, but both of them knew perfectly well what had happened
when Jineh had done this to him before. He could already feel his strength pouring into
her, leaving him as helpless as Megumi. Tomoe smiled gently. "Don't you worry," she
whispered to him. "It's just that you can't make an omelet without breaking some legs.
Now don't you go anywhere, love, because I'll be back soon enough. But it's all for your
own good, you'll see."
Like the jewel on her knife, the ring of flame was fading from red to gold, returning the
night to its former darkness and more. As the last few sparks winked out, Tomoe kissed
him once more, pulled the tanto from his chest, and cut his throat.
-----
Kaoru's makeout session with the Hitokiri Oro-chan was brought to you by the reviewing
sponsorship of Jason M. Lee and his abject system shock from the alternately-paired
smutbiscuit. I hope this makes him feel better. Say thank you to him.
http://www.inari.jp is the website for what appears to be the mother ship of all Inari
shrines. However, it's entirely in Japanese, which I can't read. Pretty pictures, though.
Photochromic lenses are constructed with a layer of light-sensitive material that darkens
in bright light but is colorless in near-dark.
yabusame: a Shinto ritual that requires a mounted archer to aim at three targets while
galloping at full speed, usually performed with a composite longbow for which the word
is (coincidentally enough, though written with different characters) "yumi".
Kawasaki rose: http://isd.canberra.edu.au/~mig/roses.htm
sweet ladies: Hamlet IV.v. 74 (Ophelia)
I know, I know, another cliffhanger-- but it was either wind up the entire fight in two
pages or let it have a full chapter to itself. Nemo: wrt to Kaoru's dad, yeah, I've been
worrying that she seems too casual about it, but my in-story handwave is that she's
sublimating all of her grief into trying to jump Kenshin, and my external excuse is that
(whether fortunately or not) I feel more competent to write about relationship angst of
various flavors than about the stages of bereavement.