Kenshin and Buffy belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro and Joss Whedon, not me. Honest.
Would this face lie to you? ^_^;
Edodale
by wombat
Chapter 19
Kaoru stared at her mother, who was sitting at the other side of the car seat as if they
weren't talking about anything weirder than an overdue library book. The reassuring
squeeze to her arm just heightened the sense of unreality somehow. Weakly, Kaoru
repeated, "Werewolf?"
"There wolf," Joyce instantly replied, then shook her head with a wry smile. "I'm sorry, I
couldn't resist. I'm not sure if 'werewolf' is really the right word for what happened to my
date that night, but it's the shortest way to explain things."
"Could you maybe tell me one of the longer explanations?"
"All right, I'll try." Settling back behind the steering wheel, Joyce leaned against the
headrest. Outside the windshield, sunrise was warming the shrine's entrance torii from
frosted shadow into fiery red. "Uzuki Walsh wasn't really my boyfriend, just the teaching
assistant for a class I'd taken that fall. His graduate advisor wanted him to study some
possible links between old legends and astronomical observations, so he'd spent winter
break doing research near Okusofodo.
"He wanted me to help retranslate some of the documents he'd brought back, and in
exchange, he'd buy me dinner. I'd heard that he'd proposed to an exchange student at the
end of the previous semester, but he said she'd turned him down and this wouldn't be a
real date anyway. So that morning, I met up with him at his study carrel in the library,
where he had an enormous pile of papers and scrolls to wade through. He was on his best
behavior and didn't try anything funny all day, so everything went smoothly until we left.
"The shortest way to the restaurant was through a park where people had been finding
dead animals recently-- squirrels, rabbits, a few cats. There were all sorts of explanations,
ranging from a rogue coyote to ritual sacrifices by Dungeons and Dragons players. But in
general, campus security had been saying that since all of those animals were pretty
small, students shouldn't worry much about getting attacked. So I wasn't too worried
when we set out, at least not about that.
"I was a bit suspicious about Uzuki's plans for the evening, since he'd given me a
necklace just before we left the library. He said it was just a small souvenir he'd brought
back from Okusofodo, but it was made from old alloys like shakudo and shibuichi that
aren't used much anymore. I never did find out if it was an antique. But it was a lovely
necklace, and it was such a beautiful evening: just that time of early spring when the trees
have a haze of tiny golden leaf-buds all over their branches, and the color of the light at
sunset was making them melt into the sky.
"He was a nice boy," Joyce said, and sighed. "He really was. Some of the documents
were a bit odd, but I thought that they must've been phrased in obscure metaphors, like
with alchemy. But it turned out that his initial translations had been right all along, even
if he hadn't had the nerve at first to carry out the exact ritual they described. Instead of a
human being, he'd sacrificed a dog by plunging a red-hot sword into its heart."
"Ew!" Kaoru blurted. "He wasn't going to feed you Shih-Tzu-kabobs, was he? Or were
all those dead animals from newer recipes he was trying out?"
"No. But he was still the one responsible, in a way. We were somewhere in the middle of
the park when the moon began to rise, and so did the dog-spirit that had possessed him in
revenge."
"Dog-spirit? So he went all furry and bitey and bow-wow woof?"
"Woof," Joyce confirmed. "Between him and the dog-spirit, one of them was trying to
stop the other from dragging me further into the woods. I don't know which was which,
but that necklace wouldn't let me escape. It kept tightening as if it were a choke-collar on
a leash and it would only loosen back up when I followed, until we reached a clearing
that'd been prepared the same way his documents had described. All I could do was stand
there struggling for breath while he stoked the fire around the sword. The blade was just
beginning to glow when your father arrived."
"Dad always did have good timing. So it was time for him to kick some butt, I guess,
unless he went straight to chopping it off."
"It was a bit more difficult than that. Koshijirou was wearing both weapons of a daisho
set, but at first he was only using his wakizashi against a full-length katana. At least once
Uzuki pulled that from the fire, I could move again. I had no idea where we were, though,
so I just climbed up the nearest tree to get out of the way until they were done."
Kaoru pondered this image. Despite the reputation of martial artists, her father had
always been the genki emotional parent while her mother was the poised and serene one.
In fact, that was the way Yahiko and Kaoru always knew they were in big trouble-- Joyce
looked even calmer than usual, and would simply withdraw her usual warmth from them
until they behaved. It was impossible for Kaoru to envision her mother as a panicked
student scrambling up a tree. After a few seconds, she stopped trying. She prompted, "So
why didn't Dad use his own katana?"
"He did, once Uzuki was disarmed."
"You mean like literally cutting his arms off?"
Joyce tsked. "Kaoru, really. No, once Uzuki lost control of his own katana, Koshijirou
sheathed his wakizashi and brought out the sakabatou."
"The-- oh. So it's good against all kind of beasties, not just--" Kaoru stopped herself
before she could say anything else. Her mother continued as if she hadn't said anything at
all.
"When he used it, three things happened. The other katana fell apart into dust. So did my
necklace. And the dog-spirit came howling out of Uzuki's body. Koshijirou helped me
down from the tree and back out of the park, and we never saw Uzuki again."
"Not even in the obituaries?"
"Your father didn't wound him that badly. We left him unconscious, and I suppose that
when he revived, he left town. I didn't want to know anything more about him." She
squeezed Kaoru's shoulder again. "However, I think I would like to know a little more
about Kenshin. Is something like that bothering him?"
"I don't even know if he likes corn dogs, much less real ones."
Sighing, Joyce shook her head. She reached into the back seat and pulled Kenshin's
bookbag forward. "You know I don't like to pry, but when I noticed his bag in our living
room this morning, I needed to look into it to see whether it belonged to him or
Sanosuke. The first thing I opened was his journal. I didn't read more than a few lines,
but why is he so desperate for the sakabatou?"
In an odd mixture of panic and huffiness, Kaoru wondered whether Kenshin thought
about the sakabatou and getting killed more than he did about her and still being alive.
She stalled for time to gather her thoughts. "So I guess you know about what it does."
"It would've been difficult not to notice. But when he proposed, Koshijirou told me its
entire history. He didn't have to use it very often, but every time he did.... I don't know if
you remember when you were four, and he came home with a lot of cuts and a broken
arm-- that wasn't a car accident, that was a kitsune-woman on the loose. And over the
years, other people had tried to take the sakabatou from his family for their own
purposes. So if I married him, I'd have to accept the risk that someday, it might get him
killed. I never thought it would really happen. But it did."
Her father's favorite advice had always been to live every day as if it were your last,
Kaoru remembered. So that was why.
"After those murderers attacked, the only bit of hope I could salvage was that your
father's family had done the best it could to defend the sakabatou. Now that it was gone,
the burden wouldn't have to fall on you or Yahiko. But now Kenshin wants to help you
get it back somehow. I suppose that if it can be done, you have to. But were his parents
killed by something supernatural? Or is he in danger of being possessed?"
Kaoru fixed her eyes on the bookbag. She'd seen Kenshin sew it together from pieces of
worn-out jeans. She'd made him spill soda onto it by smooching him unexpectedly. One
of her old hair-ribbons was fraying out of a textbook, where he'd marked the last chapter
that would be covered in the history test on Monday. And the bag, his coat, and the
tangled necklace in her pocket might be all she'd ever see of him again. "You said that
Dad told you about the sakabatou's whole history?"
"Yes, he did. Do you want me to tell it to you? I don't know if that will help find it now,
though. Or do the two of you already know where it is? The people who took it are
dangerous. You shouldn't go after them alone. Even if Mr. Hiko helps you, he might not
know what to expect."
"That isn't really the problem right now. Kenshin might not need the sakabatou after all,
so I don't know if we still want to get it back."
"But what's wrong with him? You said he's not feeling well, but that isn't all there is to it,
is there?"
"No." Kaoru took a deep breath. "See, he's had this bad case of being Battousai."
---
As the kiln cooled, so did the room around it. The cloud of burnt sawdust faded from
around the raku-quenching barrel as drops of condensation formed on its surface.
Muffled pops and clicks issued from the sawdust inside as the freshly-baked pots
contracted within their glaze. Before leaving, Megumi had spread out Kaoru's coat on the
cot below the window. Tomoe lay there, shivering.
Kenshin's lined parka had been warmer, but she was unaware of her immediate
surroundings. All of her senses were turned elsewhere, seeking him. She'd tried to restore
his body back to health throughout the night, but it did no good without his soul. Where
had it gone? Had it escaped at last, or was it still trapped somewhere beyond her reach?
A faint shadow in the spirit-world showed where his body lay. Wrapping herself around
it, she felt the lingering traces he'd left behind, and tried to follow them outward. She
reached further into the void. Around her, the endless dark whispered like falling leaves.
She would need markers to find her way home, so she painted a landscape around herself:
before her feet, nothingness; behind them, a track of snow.
There-- a hint of where he'd gone, a carved hairpin, caught in a flowering vine of pearl,
frost, and ash. When she touched it, it burned, forming a filigree of flame and shadow
before vanishing in the wind. The smoke blew forward, toward a distant glimmer.
Water. Metal. Ice. A black lily blossoming from steel blades. Inside the flower, another
world: the bitter perfume of lightning from violet storm clouds; steel-blue ocean ice
grinding against itself in brittle thunder; suspended between them, a flurry of crimson
rose petals melting into blood....
So she'd been right. The allegiance of Battousai's sword had become torn among the
three men whose jewels it bore. His friends would have to find it and bring it to him.
Until then, Kenshin's own true self was locked apart. She turned about to retrace her
steps, but halted when she saw what had risen behind her.
Spread aloft as wide as sunset, wings were beating in the air. Though scaled with flakes
of fire, they cast a smoky darkness instead of light. A scrap of silk fluttered down from
them and clung against her sleeve: the bruised petal of an iris-blossom. She could not
return, or if she could, she would only be trapped as well. She would have to find some
other way to help him.
Tomoe cast one last look at her body, then released her link to it, and let the wind freely
blow her where it would.
---
Mesmerized by the fiery gleam of his eyes, Yumi just stared up at Battousai from the
gallery floor. She'd been lulled enough by the past month or so of mellow Kenshinosity
that it was a real shock to see him like this again-- not a completely unwelcome one, but
definitely not something she wanted to repeat anytime soon, either. Assuming that she'd
have that choice.
He kicked aside the elbow she'd been propping herself up on. As she lurched flat onto the
carpet, he stepped over her body and onto her hair to make sure she stayed that way.
Reflexively, she reached for his ankle, but froze from the glance under his arm as he
reached toward the locked weapons case. "Your sword isn't there," she told him.
"I know." He pulled out Sano's lockpicks from his torn jacket pocket anyway, and went
to work.
Her smile felt like a plastic mask. "Jineh's sword always sucked. What do you want with
that piece of junk? It's probably even more useless without his cheap rock."
The case opened. He pulled out the black-bladed katana, tested the balance by whirling it
from his wrist, and plunged the tip into the floor beside Yumi's head. Uneasily, she
looked up along its edge, and was astonished to see that the kashira had regained its
amethyst after all. This was actually a relief, though. Battousai's next words made it plain
that he'd had the same thought about it that she had, though not quite in the same way.
"Pity that his amethyst's returned. Otherwise I could've used his sword as an unkeyed
weapon. Where's that knife of yours?"
She evaded the question, not sure of the answer herself. It was still around here
somewhere, but he wouldn't be asking her about it if she'd left it in her room with him,
would he? "Wait a minute-- the last time I took a good look into that case, your sword
wasn't there, but neither was the amethyst. What the heck is going on, and what took you
so long to get up?"
After one step back, he crouched down, resting his knees on her shoulders with just
enough force to keep her pinned. His fingertips on her cheek felt like a cat with barely-
sheathed claws. "You should know well enough, after the last time you and the little
vixen played with my sword. It couldn't enter the shrine to wake me after Inari was
roused. It was stopped at the torii, where Enishi picked it up." As his hair blotted out
everything else around their faces, she tipped her mouth up toward him by reflex, though
she didn't know whether he'd kiss her or rip her throat out. However, he did neither. He
simply nipped her chin before sitting upright, still straddling her torso. "Where have the
others gone?"
"Back to the shrine." In afterthought, she added hopefully, "The boss took my knife with
him."
"They can't have been gone for long; his scent is still on you. At least up here." His
fingertips pressed into the tender flesh just behind her earlobe and stroked the soft line of
her pulse.
She shivered. "So Enishi has your sword now?"
"No, Jineh does. But not for much longer." He leaned down again to follow his fingers'
path with his mouth, from ear to throat to the hollow of her shoulder. "The three
remaining jewels have rather muddled the poor thing. When Jineh stabbed Enishi with it,
Enishi's life force was drawn into the sapphire, but also through the amethyst into Jineh
himself. And also into my ruby as well. I suppose the amethyst took on some delusions of
grandeur and tried to displace it from the kashira. Annoying, really. I can't blame my
ruby for choosing to hurl it back here instead of bringing the entire sword to me, but I
won't mind blaming Jineh the next time we meet." He shrugged, sat up again, then
reached behind him and whisked up the edge of her pajama top. His touch was sinuously
warm as it slid under her waistband. "Would you like to help me find him?"
"Um. I've got stuff to do around here, and-- ooh."
After a polite interval in which he displayed excellent balance, he bent forward again,
resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his folded hands. "Are you sure?" When
she nodded, an eyebrow arched up, though his cool smile remained unchanged. He
reached into the jacket and offered her another piece of Sano's property.
She gaped at him. "Bats, you know I love you, but no way am I replacing my naginata by
turning that into the Swiss Army Knife From Hell. What am I going to do with that,
corkscrew people's brains out through their noses?" Crap, she'd better not have just given
him any ideas about finding out if that would work. Especially on her.
Instead, he just returned it to his jacket. "Well then. The boys won't get far in the tunnels,
and I can sense where my sword is anyway. Time enough to catch them later. But the last
time you and I met, we were rudely interrupted. Shall I pick up where we left off?"
Oh boy. Or was that "oh boy!"? As Yumi ambivalently punctuated her thoughts, he
removed his belt, letting a small, familiar object fall away from his waist. He hefted the
item, unsheathed it, and traced the blade's black edge across her cheek.
"Shame on you for lying to me about your knife," he chided, still smiling. "You are a bad
girl, aren't you?"
---
Even though the shower was going full blast onto her head, Megumi could hear her cat
yowling and ricocheting around the house outside the bathroom door. In futile
reassurance, she called, "Kei, I'll be right back out, okay? I didn't mean to leave you alone
here last night, honest, so be a good kitty for now?" It didn't really matter what she said,
as long as he could hear her voice and stop freaking. He wasn't called Psycho Kitty
Keisuke for nothing, but this morning he was really working to earn it.
When Hiko dropped her off a few minutes ago, Kei had been crouching on top of the
fence just above where Sano had left her bicycle. The way it was haphazardly leaning on
its side might've just been Sano's usual style, except that the muddy sneaker prints on the
sidewalk were farther apart than usual, smeared in a long running pace. Kei always raced
out through the cat door as soon as he recognized her bicycle through the window blinds,
and he must've been really annoyed to've mistaken Sano for her. But by the time she got
home, Kei was just licking his paws in a self-satisfied way, though he'd missed cleaning a
drop of blood off one ear. As soon as Megumi opened the door of the Hikomobile, he
launched himself straight into her lap, but she pulled him out with her and fussed over
him long enough to allow the car's escape.
She'd scooped up Kei and scritched his ears in a concilatory frenzy all the way back into
the house, and when she finally set him down so she could change out of Yumi's pajamas
and wash up, he'd collapsed into a purring heap by her toes, even ignoring the bowls of
kibble and water she'd refilled for him. But once she actually got into the bathroom, his
routine must've been rudely disrupted again. He liked to curl up in her clothes, but this
time they wouldn't've smelled right. Not only that, but she'd disappeared from him again.
As fast as she could, she scrubbed the last few shampoo bubbles out of her hair and
swiped the soap across her skin. Kei really did sound frantic out there, almost as bad as
back when he'd realized that baby Ayame was going to stay here permanently, making
loud noises and distracting Megumi's valuable attention away from him. By the time
Suzume was born, he'd gotten used to the idea, but now his yowl volume was definitely
turned all the way up to eleven.
Still dripping around her towel, she scrambled out to the hallway. His echoes were
rattling all over the place so it was hard to locate him at first, but he'd gone to his usual
sentry post at the front window. His ears were flattened all the way back as he glared out
at the lawn. She didn't want to take a look through the curtains without any clothes on
yet, and when she tried to coax him off the sofa, his claws dug into the upholstery. But at
least he stopped making that noise once he knew that she knew about it, so she let him
stay there hissing at the glass while she went to her room to get dressed.
She still wasn't sure whether she was going to stay on duty doing miko stuff for the
festival, but if she did, she'd be changing into her ceremonial garb at the shrine anyway.
At least the clothes that Enishi had cut to bits last night hadn't been her favorite outfit,
though she was bummed to lose those shoes after she'd just broken them in. But it was
cold enough to bring her winter boots back out, so she pulled them on over her jeans and
added a sweater that was long enough to keep her butt warm, despite the cat-bites
scalloped out of the hem.
Once she got back to the living room and peeked out, she saw why he'd been so upset.
Another cat was sitting just outside the gate, with all four paws tucked underneath its
body, and its tail wrapped neatly around them to keep warm. From this distance, she
couldn't recognize it, but she probably wouldn't have anyway; most of the neighborhood
cats knew better than to come around here. It was unusual for one of them to lurk nearby,
and even more unusual that Kei hadn't charged out and driven it off the same way he'd
chased Sano. But for the most part, Kei was as close to normal again as he ever was, and
she had to get back to the shrine to catch up with the others. So after soothing him into a
trance, she gently disengaged her sweater from his mouth, dusted loose fur off her hands,
and tiptoed out the door.
When Megumi brought her bicycle back out from the porch, the other cat was still there
by the gate, as if waiting for her. It was a lilac-point Siamese, with huge midnight-blue
eyes in the pastel brushstrokes of its face like two black opals on a misted mirror. But
when it opened its mouth, only a faint whisper of a mew emerged instead of an
earsplitting shriek. Was it hungry? Lost? She bent down and pulled off her glove to let
the cat sniff her hand, but to her surprise, instead it raised one paw to touch her fingers. It
seemed to be well-groomed, and certainly well-behaved, but there wasn't any tag on the
silk ribbon around its neck, and it was shivering lightly as it sat on the frosty grass. "Are
you looking for your people? Where do you live, kitty?" She looked around, but she
didn't hear anyone calling for it. "Well, I have to go now, so I hope you find your way
home soon, okay? Just don't stick around here, or Kei might try to come get you after
all."
She mounted her bicycle and headed off, but after crossing the first intersection, she
heard the screech of brakes behind her. "You should take better care of your cat," the
driver shouted.
Oh no, had Kei woken up and followed her down the street? When she looked back,
though, the strange lilac-point was crouching in front of the car with wide, bewildered
eyes, and Megumi ran back to carry it out of the way. "It's not mine," she began, but the
driver simply shook his cell-phone at her.
"Then why is it following you?" he demanded, and sped away.
She put it back down on the sidewalk. It sat down exactly as before, gazed up at her, and
again lifted one paw with a whispered mew. "Is that paw hurt?" It didn't seem to be.
"Kitty, it's not safe for you to chase me all the way to the shrine, go home." She mounted
her bicycle again. The cat stood up and began to trot alongside her.
"Oh, drat. Okay," Megumi conceded, and scooped it up into her handlebar basket. "I'll
bring you along, but after that, I'll check around the neighborhood when we get home. If
nobody knows you, maybe I can find you a new family."
---
As he pulled out of his parking lot, Hiko glanced into his rear-view mirror and wiped a
last trace of shaving foam off his ear. After having deposited Megumi at her house to
freshen up, he'd decided to detour to his flat to follow suit. Astonishing how a brisk
shower could improve one's outlook on the world, especially when followed with enough
hot tea and toast to eradicate any lingering traces of jelly mochi. He had been less
successful in banishing thoughts of Yumi.
Miss Komagata, he automatically corrected himself. "Vivacious" had been the best word
he could think of to describe her on short notice, but while it was accurate enough, it was
insufficient. It failed to capture her contradictions: even after her father had shown that he
valued her less than his swords and armor by selling her to a brothel, she'd chosen to
preserve the family honor in her own way. The passionate informality she'd adopted there
had denied her clients the satisfaction of possessing a samurai's daughter, while failing to
give the brothel owners any other reason for complaint.
And now, Hiko had a certain suspicion that she might be considering him as a substitute
for Battousai. This made him uneasy on several different levels: his own vulnerability to
the hellblades; the gymnastic contortions she might require; and his eventual return to
Okusofodo. The elders' knowledge of her true identity would be inversely proportionate
to their welcome, and yet he could not remain indefinitely in Edodale and abandon his
school. Better to spare her the strain of another separation than to attempt even temporary
solace, surely.
As he turned from the main road toward the shrine, the tire tracks in the frost showed that
a bicycle and a car had already preceded him this morning. The first would be Kaoru. He
hoped that the second would not have been Enishi, considering their encounter last night.
But it was Joyce's car that was parked in front of the entrance torii, and she glanced
toward him from inside it as he pulled up beside her. However, she simply turned her
attention back to whatever she'd been doing, rather than offering any sort of greeting.
And where was Kaoru's bicycle?
Surreptitiously, he fastened his sword beneath his coat before closing the door of his own
car and walking around to hers. When he tapped on the window, she looked back up, but
still without any particular expression. From here, he could see what she was doing:
patiently untangling the chain of Kaoru's necklace from around its fishbone pendant. She
set it aside and rolled down her window.
"Ah. Good morning, Ms. Summers."
"Good morning, Mr. Hiko," she responded, just as formally.
"Do you know whether Kaoru's already here, by any chance?"
"She went up to the main shrine after she helped me put her bicycle into the back, so I
imagine she's still up there. May I ask why you're looking for her?"
Glad of the excuse, Hiko pulled out the scarf Kenshin had failed to finish knitting. "I
believe this is hers. Could you return it to her, please?"
"Of course." Joyce loosely folded it onto the passenger seat, then picked up a much larger
item from the footwell and hefted it up to the window in exchange. "As long as you're
here, Kenshin left his bookbag at our house yesterday evening. Perhaps you'd better look
after it for now. Has he improved at all since Kaoru's visit this morning?"
This was an excellent opportunity to take off his glasses and clean them, he decided. "I
really couldn't say."
"No, of course not, how silly of me." Joyce took up the necklace again and resumed
working at it. "After all, why should I think you'd tell me anything about Battousai now,
after you already let my husband and his students die without a warning?"
---
Jineh crouched in a side-niche as Enishi sloshed past him through the main storm drain.
Unfamiliar with the tunnel network, the younger man had to rely on the faint light leaking
down from the access shafts to follow his trail. But after the last encounter with
Battousai, Jineh had spent more time down here than he cared to think about, blindly
groping through the muck in search of food, shelter, and the occasional stray organ. The
brat was still just as cunning and treacherous as ever, so it was no surprise that his sword
would've been unreliable too.
The echoes faded into the distance. Sliding his feet through the muck to avoid telltale
splashes, Jineh eased his way around the corner to the nearest dry shaft. He pushed
Battousai's sword into it before boosting himself up. Getting home this way would take
longer, but it would be far safer for now.
Once he was well away from the main tunnels, Jineh relaxed enough to resume planning
his next move as he continued onward. At least Enishi wasn't likely to find his lair and
take back the sakabatou before he returned. Jineh was fairly proud of having found an
abandoned pump station up in the hills, surrounded by thick overgrowth that blocked the
access roads and left the underground pipes as the only easy way in. It wasn't even in
danger of being flooded now that the river had been dammed, though the long disuse had
allowed tree roots to snake in and out through the pipe walls.
Rats squeaked and scuttled around him as he crawled through the debris. Rats weren't so
bad once you got to know them. They were clever and resourceful, and if you didn't roast
them for too long, they tasted a bit like chicken. Of course, they'd returned the favor by
eating some of his parts while he couldn't do anything about it, but that was life. He was
saving the real payback for that brat who pulled them out in the first place.
The brief burst of energy through Battousai's sword had healed most of his remaining
wounds, but it had only lasted until his amethyst disappeared. Could he recover and
restore his own gem, or his own sword? Could he pry out the other two jewels by using
the sakabatou? Or could he just find Battousai and do a better job of killing him this
time? After all, two swords had to be better than one.
These happy musings faded when Jineh realized he'd gone astray. He couldn't've gotten
lost, not down here. He knew this place like the back of his hand-- maybe even better,
considering that he hadn't had much of a hand on one side for a while. In fact, he knew
exactly where he was, but it wasn't where he'd planned to go.
He was under the Kamiya dojo. He hadn't come this way for months, not since he'd
brought Enishi and some of his pets to help him get the sakabatou in the first place. These
tunnels hadn't been used since then, from what he could tell, so he was safely alone. But
what was he doing here in the first place?
As he contemplated this question, he became aware of a relentless urge to continue
upward. It was nearly a psychological necessity, like the reflex to draw a sword when
attacked. The thought of this analogy made the internal pressure increase.
Was his own sword calling to him? Battousai had stolen it, but since it wouldn't've done
him much good, maybe the brat had simply thrown it away, or given it to that bluebird
girl he'd been with. Enishi had said she might be Kamiya's daughter, hadn't he? In that
case, it would've made sense for her to bring it back to the dojo. Maybe she was there
with it right now, alone and undefended.
Jineh grinned. It was a long way up to the surface, but he had many pleasant daydreams
to keep him occupied while climbing. Battousai's sword made things more awkward, of
course; without a sheath for it, he had to constantly shift it around from hand to hand,
occasionally tucking it under an arm and trying not to cut himself. Gradually, the pale
wisp of sunlight grew larger and clearer, until at last he was clinging to the last handhold
below the drainage grate.
He peered up through it, at first staying close to the shaft walls in case anyone might spot
him. If there were cars parked in the lot, he couldn't see them, though one of those two-
wheeled contraptions was leaning nearby. The urgency was stronger than ever, nearly
unbearable. Whoever was here really was alone with his sword, but not for long.
Once again, he shoved Battousai's sword up through the grate ahead of him, freeing both
of his hands to push the heavy metal grille up and to the side. The black blade skittered
and sparked onto the pavement as it slid away and out of sight. Jineh had just clambered
halfway out when the sword caught his eye again, in an uncomfortably literal way. The
side of the blade pressed up against his eye-socket, forcing him to lift his head toward its
wielder. It was Battousai again, of course. Didn't that brat have anything better to do?
Well, perhaps he did, judging from the blood spattered over him. It streaked his face and
speckled his clothing; even Jineh's own sword, which Battousai held in his other hand,
had a solid red glaze down its blade "You're an excellent delivery boy," he said. "So
here's my tip: leave Edodale now. If I ever see you around here again, I won't give you
another chance." He shoved the red-glazed blade into Jineh's heart and kicked him back
down the shaft.
The grate slammed shut, a shrinking whirl of light above Jineh as he fell all the way back
down. When he struck bottom, the blade jarred out of his chest. He lay there in a heap of
broken limbs for some time, weakly waving the rats away again. Days or weeks later, he
began to crawl back to his lair, sure of his way this time. Throughout the slow, painful
journey, he kept a firm grip on his newly returned sword until both of them had re-
emerged. He leaned against one crumbling wall of the pump station, gazing at his
amethyst. Its violet depths flickered with the reflections of his eyes, which were as golden
as Battousai's once more.
-----
Wai! I finally finished this chapter! Or at least I think so. Minor revisions may yet be
uploaded, as always, and especially if Fun With Swords still doesn't make sense to
anyone except me.
I must've been a lot more bummed out by ff.n's NC17 purge than I'd expected to be. At
least that's the only excuse I can really come up with for why this chapter took so
freaking bloody long, as some might say.
Many, many thanks to those of you who kept me afloat during the dark times, especially
Firuze Khanume and AutumnFire for reassuring me that no, my drafts did not suck. I
may shift back to FotN5 now, which needs some bits of plot to hold together all the citric
scrompitudinosity I've already written. Woohoo!
Would this face lie to you? ^_^;
Edodale
by wombat
Chapter 19
Kaoru stared at her mother, who was sitting at the other side of the car seat as if they
weren't talking about anything weirder than an overdue library book. The reassuring
squeeze to her arm just heightened the sense of unreality somehow. Weakly, Kaoru
repeated, "Werewolf?"
"There wolf," Joyce instantly replied, then shook her head with a wry smile. "I'm sorry, I
couldn't resist. I'm not sure if 'werewolf' is really the right word for what happened to my
date that night, but it's the shortest way to explain things."
"Could you maybe tell me one of the longer explanations?"
"All right, I'll try." Settling back behind the steering wheel, Joyce leaned against the
headrest. Outside the windshield, sunrise was warming the shrine's entrance torii from
frosted shadow into fiery red. "Uzuki Walsh wasn't really my boyfriend, just the teaching
assistant for a class I'd taken that fall. His graduate advisor wanted him to study some
possible links between old legends and astronomical observations, so he'd spent winter
break doing research near Okusofodo.
"He wanted me to help retranslate some of the documents he'd brought back, and in
exchange, he'd buy me dinner. I'd heard that he'd proposed to an exchange student at the
end of the previous semester, but he said she'd turned him down and this wouldn't be a
real date anyway. So that morning, I met up with him at his study carrel in the library,
where he had an enormous pile of papers and scrolls to wade through. He was on his best
behavior and didn't try anything funny all day, so everything went smoothly until we left.
"The shortest way to the restaurant was through a park where people had been finding
dead animals recently-- squirrels, rabbits, a few cats. There were all sorts of explanations,
ranging from a rogue coyote to ritual sacrifices by Dungeons and Dragons players. But in
general, campus security had been saying that since all of those animals were pretty
small, students shouldn't worry much about getting attacked. So I wasn't too worried
when we set out, at least not about that.
"I was a bit suspicious about Uzuki's plans for the evening, since he'd given me a
necklace just before we left the library. He said it was just a small souvenir he'd brought
back from Okusofodo, but it was made from old alloys like shakudo and shibuichi that
aren't used much anymore. I never did find out if it was an antique. But it was a lovely
necklace, and it was such a beautiful evening: just that time of early spring when the trees
have a haze of tiny golden leaf-buds all over their branches, and the color of the light at
sunset was making them melt into the sky.
"He was a nice boy," Joyce said, and sighed. "He really was. Some of the documents
were a bit odd, but I thought that they must've been phrased in obscure metaphors, like
with alchemy. But it turned out that his initial translations had been right all along, even
if he hadn't had the nerve at first to carry out the exact ritual they described. Instead of a
human being, he'd sacrificed a dog by plunging a red-hot sword into its heart."
"Ew!" Kaoru blurted. "He wasn't going to feed you Shih-Tzu-kabobs, was he? Or were
all those dead animals from newer recipes he was trying out?"
"No. But he was still the one responsible, in a way. We were somewhere in the middle of
the park when the moon began to rise, and so did the dog-spirit that had possessed him in
revenge."
"Dog-spirit? So he went all furry and bitey and bow-wow woof?"
"Woof," Joyce confirmed. "Between him and the dog-spirit, one of them was trying to
stop the other from dragging me further into the woods. I don't know which was which,
but that necklace wouldn't let me escape. It kept tightening as if it were a choke-collar on
a leash and it would only loosen back up when I followed, until we reached a clearing
that'd been prepared the same way his documents had described. All I could do was stand
there struggling for breath while he stoked the fire around the sword. The blade was just
beginning to glow when your father arrived."
"Dad always did have good timing. So it was time for him to kick some butt, I guess,
unless he went straight to chopping it off."
"It was a bit more difficult than that. Koshijirou was wearing both weapons of a daisho
set, but at first he was only using his wakizashi against a full-length katana. At least once
Uzuki pulled that from the fire, I could move again. I had no idea where we were, though,
so I just climbed up the nearest tree to get out of the way until they were done."
Kaoru pondered this image. Despite the reputation of martial artists, her father had
always been the genki emotional parent while her mother was the poised and serene one.
In fact, that was the way Yahiko and Kaoru always knew they were in big trouble-- Joyce
looked even calmer than usual, and would simply withdraw her usual warmth from them
until they behaved. It was impossible for Kaoru to envision her mother as a panicked
student scrambling up a tree. After a few seconds, she stopped trying. She prompted, "So
why didn't Dad use his own katana?"
"He did, once Uzuki was disarmed."
"You mean like literally cutting his arms off?"
Joyce tsked. "Kaoru, really. No, once Uzuki lost control of his own katana, Koshijirou
sheathed his wakizashi and brought out the sakabatou."
"The-- oh. So it's good against all kind of beasties, not just--" Kaoru stopped herself
before she could say anything else. Her mother continued as if she hadn't said anything at
all.
"When he used it, three things happened. The other katana fell apart into dust. So did my
necklace. And the dog-spirit came howling out of Uzuki's body. Koshijirou helped me
down from the tree and back out of the park, and we never saw Uzuki again."
"Not even in the obituaries?"
"Your father didn't wound him that badly. We left him unconscious, and I suppose that
when he revived, he left town. I didn't want to know anything more about him." She
squeezed Kaoru's shoulder again. "However, I think I would like to know a little more
about Kenshin. Is something like that bothering him?"
"I don't even know if he likes corn dogs, much less real ones."
Sighing, Joyce shook her head. She reached into the back seat and pulled Kenshin's
bookbag forward. "You know I don't like to pry, but when I noticed his bag in our living
room this morning, I needed to look into it to see whether it belonged to him or
Sanosuke. The first thing I opened was his journal. I didn't read more than a few lines,
but why is he so desperate for the sakabatou?"
In an odd mixture of panic and huffiness, Kaoru wondered whether Kenshin thought
about the sakabatou and getting killed more than he did about her and still being alive.
She stalled for time to gather her thoughts. "So I guess you know about what it does."
"It would've been difficult not to notice. But when he proposed, Koshijirou told me its
entire history. He didn't have to use it very often, but every time he did.... I don't know if
you remember when you were four, and he came home with a lot of cuts and a broken
arm-- that wasn't a car accident, that was a kitsune-woman on the loose. And over the
years, other people had tried to take the sakabatou from his family for their own
purposes. So if I married him, I'd have to accept the risk that someday, it might get him
killed. I never thought it would really happen. But it did."
Her father's favorite advice had always been to live every day as if it were your last,
Kaoru remembered. So that was why.
"After those murderers attacked, the only bit of hope I could salvage was that your
father's family had done the best it could to defend the sakabatou. Now that it was gone,
the burden wouldn't have to fall on you or Yahiko. But now Kenshin wants to help you
get it back somehow. I suppose that if it can be done, you have to. But were his parents
killed by something supernatural? Or is he in danger of being possessed?"
Kaoru fixed her eyes on the bookbag. She'd seen Kenshin sew it together from pieces of
worn-out jeans. She'd made him spill soda onto it by smooching him unexpectedly. One
of her old hair-ribbons was fraying out of a textbook, where he'd marked the last chapter
that would be covered in the history test on Monday. And the bag, his coat, and the
tangled necklace in her pocket might be all she'd ever see of him again. "You said that
Dad told you about the sakabatou's whole history?"
"Yes, he did. Do you want me to tell it to you? I don't know if that will help find it now,
though. Or do the two of you already know where it is? The people who took it are
dangerous. You shouldn't go after them alone. Even if Mr. Hiko helps you, he might not
know what to expect."
"That isn't really the problem right now. Kenshin might not need the sakabatou after all,
so I don't know if we still want to get it back."
"But what's wrong with him? You said he's not feeling well, but that isn't all there is to it,
is there?"
"No." Kaoru took a deep breath. "See, he's had this bad case of being Battousai."
---
As the kiln cooled, so did the room around it. The cloud of burnt sawdust faded from
around the raku-quenching barrel as drops of condensation formed on its surface.
Muffled pops and clicks issued from the sawdust inside as the freshly-baked pots
contracted within their glaze. Before leaving, Megumi had spread out Kaoru's coat on the
cot below the window. Tomoe lay there, shivering.
Kenshin's lined parka had been warmer, but she was unaware of her immediate
surroundings. All of her senses were turned elsewhere, seeking him. She'd tried to restore
his body back to health throughout the night, but it did no good without his soul. Where
had it gone? Had it escaped at last, or was it still trapped somewhere beyond her reach?
A faint shadow in the spirit-world showed where his body lay. Wrapping herself around
it, she felt the lingering traces he'd left behind, and tried to follow them outward. She
reached further into the void. Around her, the endless dark whispered like falling leaves.
She would need markers to find her way home, so she painted a landscape around herself:
before her feet, nothingness; behind them, a track of snow.
There-- a hint of where he'd gone, a carved hairpin, caught in a flowering vine of pearl,
frost, and ash. When she touched it, it burned, forming a filigree of flame and shadow
before vanishing in the wind. The smoke blew forward, toward a distant glimmer.
Water. Metal. Ice. A black lily blossoming from steel blades. Inside the flower, another
world: the bitter perfume of lightning from violet storm clouds; steel-blue ocean ice
grinding against itself in brittle thunder; suspended between them, a flurry of crimson
rose petals melting into blood....
So she'd been right. The allegiance of Battousai's sword had become torn among the
three men whose jewels it bore. His friends would have to find it and bring it to him.
Until then, Kenshin's own true self was locked apart. She turned about to retrace her
steps, but halted when she saw what had risen behind her.
Spread aloft as wide as sunset, wings were beating in the air. Though scaled with flakes
of fire, they cast a smoky darkness instead of light. A scrap of silk fluttered down from
them and clung against her sleeve: the bruised petal of an iris-blossom. She could not
return, or if she could, she would only be trapped as well. She would have to find some
other way to help him.
Tomoe cast one last look at her body, then released her link to it, and let the wind freely
blow her where it would.
---
Mesmerized by the fiery gleam of his eyes, Yumi just stared up at Battousai from the
gallery floor. She'd been lulled enough by the past month or so of mellow Kenshinosity
that it was a real shock to see him like this again-- not a completely unwelcome one, but
definitely not something she wanted to repeat anytime soon, either. Assuming that she'd
have that choice.
He kicked aside the elbow she'd been propping herself up on. As she lurched flat onto the
carpet, he stepped over her body and onto her hair to make sure she stayed that way.
Reflexively, she reached for his ankle, but froze from the glance under his arm as he
reached toward the locked weapons case. "Your sword isn't there," she told him.
"I know." He pulled out Sano's lockpicks from his torn jacket pocket anyway, and went
to work.
Her smile felt like a plastic mask. "Jineh's sword always sucked. What do you want with
that piece of junk? It's probably even more useless without his cheap rock."
The case opened. He pulled out the black-bladed katana, tested the balance by whirling it
from his wrist, and plunged the tip into the floor beside Yumi's head. Uneasily, she
looked up along its edge, and was astonished to see that the kashira had regained its
amethyst after all. This was actually a relief, though. Battousai's next words made it plain
that he'd had the same thought about it that she had, though not quite in the same way.
"Pity that his amethyst's returned. Otherwise I could've used his sword as an unkeyed
weapon. Where's that knife of yours?"
She evaded the question, not sure of the answer herself. It was still around here
somewhere, but he wouldn't be asking her about it if she'd left it in her room with him,
would he? "Wait a minute-- the last time I took a good look into that case, your sword
wasn't there, but neither was the amethyst. What the heck is going on, and what took you
so long to get up?"
After one step back, he crouched down, resting his knees on her shoulders with just
enough force to keep her pinned. His fingertips on her cheek felt like a cat with barely-
sheathed claws. "You should know well enough, after the last time you and the little
vixen played with my sword. It couldn't enter the shrine to wake me after Inari was
roused. It was stopped at the torii, where Enishi picked it up." As his hair blotted out
everything else around their faces, she tipped her mouth up toward him by reflex, though
she didn't know whether he'd kiss her or rip her throat out. However, he did neither. He
simply nipped her chin before sitting upright, still straddling her torso. "Where have the
others gone?"
"Back to the shrine." In afterthought, she added hopefully, "The boss took my knife with
him."
"They can't have been gone for long; his scent is still on you. At least up here." His
fingertips pressed into the tender flesh just behind her earlobe and stroked the soft line of
her pulse.
She shivered. "So Enishi has your sword now?"
"No, Jineh does. But not for much longer." He leaned down again to follow his fingers'
path with his mouth, from ear to throat to the hollow of her shoulder. "The three
remaining jewels have rather muddled the poor thing. When Jineh stabbed Enishi with it,
Enishi's life force was drawn into the sapphire, but also through the amethyst into Jineh
himself. And also into my ruby as well. I suppose the amethyst took on some delusions of
grandeur and tried to displace it from the kashira. Annoying, really. I can't blame my
ruby for choosing to hurl it back here instead of bringing the entire sword to me, but I
won't mind blaming Jineh the next time we meet." He shrugged, sat up again, then
reached behind him and whisked up the edge of her pajama top. His touch was sinuously
warm as it slid under her waistband. "Would you like to help me find him?"
"Um. I've got stuff to do around here, and-- ooh."
After a polite interval in which he displayed excellent balance, he bent forward again,
resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his folded hands. "Are you sure?" When
she nodded, an eyebrow arched up, though his cool smile remained unchanged. He
reached into the jacket and offered her another piece of Sano's property.
She gaped at him. "Bats, you know I love you, but no way am I replacing my naginata by
turning that into the Swiss Army Knife From Hell. What am I going to do with that,
corkscrew people's brains out through their noses?" Crap, she'd better not have just given
him any ideas about finding out if that would work. Especially on her.
Instead, he just returned it to his jacket. "Well then. The boys won't get far in the tunnels,
and I can sense where my sword is anyway. Time enough to catch them later. But the last
time you and I met, we were rudely interrupted. Shall I pick up where we left off?"
Oh boy. Or was that "oh boy!"? As Yumi ambivalently punctuated her thoughts, he
removed his belt, letting a small, familiar object fall away from his waist. He hefted the
item, unsheathed it, and traced the blade's black edge across her cheek.
"Shame on you for lying to me about your knife," he chided, still smiling. "You are a bad
girl, aren't you?"
---
Even though the shower was going full blast onto her head, Megumi could hear her cat
yowling and ricocheting around the house outside the bathroom door. In futile
reassurance, she called, "Kei, I'll be right back out, okay? I didn't mean to leave you alone
here last night, honest, so be a good kitty for now?" It didn't really matter what she said,
as long as he could hear her voice and stop freaking. He wasn't called Psycho Kitty
Keisuke for nothing, but this morning he was really working to earn it.
When Hiko dropped her off a few minutes ago, Kei had been crouching on top of the
fence just above where Sano had left her bicycle. The way it was haphazardly leaning on
its side might've just been Sano's usual style, except that the muddy sneaker prints on the
sidewalk were farther apart than usual, smeared in a long running pace. Kei always raced
out through the cat door as soon as he recognized her bicycle through the window blinds,
and he must've been really annoyed to've mistaken Sano for her. But by the time she got
home, Kei was just licking his paws in a self-satisfied way, though he'd missed cleaning a
drop of blood off one ear. As soon as Megumi opened the door of the Hikomobile, he
launched himself straight into her lap, but she pulled him out with her and fussed over
him long enough to allow the car's escape.
She'd scooped up Kei and scritched his ears in a concilatory frenzy all the way back into
the house, and when she finally set him down so she could change out of Yumi's pajamas
and wash up, he'd collapsed into a purring heap by her toes, even ignoring the bowls of
kibble and water she'd refilled for him. But once she actually got into the bathroom, his
routine must've been rudely disrupted again. He liked to curl up in her clothes, but this
time they wouldn't've smelled right. Not only that, but she'd disappeared from him again.
As fast as she could, she scrubbed the last few shampoo bubbles out of her hair and
swiped the soap across her skin. Kei really did sound frantic out there, almost as bad as
back when he'd realized that baby Ayame was going to stay here permanently, making
loud noises and distracting Megumi's valuable attention away from him. By the time
Suzume was born, he'd gotten used to the idea, but now his yowl volume was definitely
turned all the way up to eleven.
Still dripping around her towel, she scrambled out to the hallway. His echoes were
rattling all over the place so it was hard to locate him at first, but he'd gone to his usual
sentry post at the front window. His ears were flattened all the way back as he glared out
at the lawn. She didn't want to take a look through the curtains without any clothes on
yet, and when she tried to coax him off the sofa, his claws dug into the upholstery. But at
least he stopped making that noise once he knew that she knew about it, so she let him
stay there hissing at the glass while she went to her room to get dressed.
She still wasn't sure whether she was going to stay on duty doing miko stuff for the
festival, but if she did, she'd be changing into her ceremonial garb at the shrine anyway.
At least the clothes that Enishi had cut to bits last night hadn't been her favorite outfit,
though she was bummed to lose those shoes after she'd just broken them in. But it was
cold enough to bring her winter boots back out, so she pulled them on over her jeans and
added a sweater that was long enough to keep her butt warm, despite the cat-bites
scalloped out of the hem.
Once she got back to the living room and peeked out, she saw why he'd been so upset.
Another cat was sitting just outside the gate, with all four paws tucked underneath its
body, and its tail wrapped neatly around them to keep warm. From this distance, she
couldn't recognize it, but she probably wouldn't have anyway; most of the neighborhood
cats knew better than to come around here. It was unusual for one of them to lurk nearby,
and even more unusual that Kei hadn't charged out and driven it off the same way he'd
chased Sano. But for the most part, Kei was as close to normal again as he ever was, and
she had to get back to the shrine to catch up with the others. So after soothing him into a
trance, she gently disengaged her sweater from his mouth, dusted loose fur off her hands,
and tiptoed out the door.
When Megumi brought her bicycle back out from the porch, the other cat was still there
by the gate, as if waiting for her. It was a lilac-point Siamese, with huge midnight-blue
eyes in the pastel brushstrokes of its face like two black opals on a misted mirror. But
when it opened its mouth, only a faint whisper of a mew emerged instead of an
earsplitting shriek. Was it hungry? Lost? She bent down and pulled off her glove to let
the cat sniff her hand, but to her surprise, instead it raised one paw to touch her fingers. It
seemed to be well-groomed, and certainly well-behaved, but there wasn't any tag on the
silk ribbon around its neck, and it was shivering lightly as it sat on the frosty grass. "Are
you looking for your people? Where do you live, kitty?" She looked around, but she
didn't hear anyone calling for it. "Well, I have to go now, so I hope you find your way
home soon, okay? Just don't stick around here, or Kei might try to come get you after
all."
She mounted her bicycle and headed off, but after crossing the first intersection, she
heard the screech of brakes behind her. "You should take better care of your cat," the
driver shouted.
Oh no, had Kei woken up and followed her down the street? When she looked back,
though, the strange lilac-point was crouching in front of the car with wide, bewildered
eyes, and Megumi ran back to carry it out of the way. "It's not mine," she began, but the
driver simply shook his cell-phone at her.
"Then why is it following you?" he demanded, and sped away.
She put it back down on the sidewalk. It sat down exactly as before, gazed up at her, and
again lifted one paw with a whispered mew. "Is that paw hurt?" It didn't seem to be.
"Kitty, it's not safe for you to chase me all the way to the shrine, go home." She mounted
her bicycle again. The cat stood up and began to trot alongside her.
"Oh, drat. Okay," Megumi conceded, and scooped it up into her handlebar basket. "I'll
bring you along, but after that, I'll check around the neighborhood when we get home. If
nobody knows you, maybe I can find you a new family."
---
As he pulled out of his parking lot, Hiko glanced into his rear-view mirror and wiped a
last trace of shaving foam off his ear. After having deposited Megumi at her house to
freshen up, he'd decided to detour to his flat to follow suit. Astonishing how a brisk
shower could improve one's outlook on the world, especially when followed with enough
hot tea and toast to eradicate any lingering traces of jelly mochi. He had been less
successful in banishing thoughts of Yumi.
Miss Komagata, he automatically corrected himself. "Vivacious" had been the best word
he could think of to describe her on short notice, but while it was accurate enough, it was
insufficient. It failed to capture her contradictions: even after her father had shown that he
valued her less than his swords and armor by selling her to a brothel, she'd chosen to
preserve the family honor in her own way. The passionate informality she'd adopted there
had denied her clients the satisfaction of possessing a samurai's daughter, while failing to
give the brothel owners any other reason for complaint.
And now, Hiko had a certain suspicion that she might be considering him as a substitute
for Battousai. This made him uneasy on several different levels: his own vulnerability to
the hellblades; the gymnastic contortions she might require; and his eventual return to
Okusofodo. The elders' knowledge of her true identity would be inversely proportionate
to their welcome, and yet he could not remain indefinitely in Edodale and abandon his
school. Better to spare her the strain of another separation than to attempt even temporary
solace, surely.
As he turned from the main road toward the shrine, the tire tracks in the frost showed that
a bicycle and a car had already preceded him this morning. The first would be Kaoru. He
hoped that the second would not have been Enishi, considering their encounter last night.
But it was Joyce's car that was parked in front of the entrance torii, and she glanced
toward him from inside it as he pulled up beside her. However, she simply turned her
attention back to whatever she'd been doing, rather than offering any sort of greeting.
And where was Kaoru's bicycle?
Surreptitiously, he fastened his sword beneath his coat before closing the door of his own
car and walking around to hers. When he tapped on the window, she looked back up, but
still without any particular expression. From here, he could see what she was doing:
patiently untangling the chain of Kaoru's necklace from around its fishbone pendant. She
set it aside and rolled down her window.
"Ah. Good morning, Ms. Summers."
"Good morning, Mr. Hiko," she responded, just as formally.
"Do you know whether Kaoru's already here, by any chance?"
"She went up to the main shrine after she helped me put her bicycle into the back, so I
imagine she's still up there. May I ask why you're looking for her?"
Glad of the excuse, Hiko pulled out the scarf Kenshin had failed to finish knitting. "I
believe this is hers. Could you return it to her, please?"
"Of course." Joyce loosely folded it onto the passenger seat, then picked up a much larger
item from the footwell and hefted it up to the window in exchange. "As long as you're
here, Kenshin left his bookbag at our house yesterday evening. Perhaps you'd better look
after it for now. Has he improved at all since Kaoru's visit this morning?"
This was an excellent opportunity to take off his glasses and clean them, he decided. "I
really couldn't say."
"No, of course not, how silly of me." Joyce took up the necklace again and resumed
working at it. "After all, why should I think you'd tell me anything about Battousai now,
after you already let my husband and his students die without a warning?"
---
Jineh crouched in a side-niche as Enishi sloshed past him through the main storm drain.
Unfamiliar with the tunnel network, the younger man had to rely on the faint light leaking
down from the access shafts to follow his trail. But after the last encounter with
Battousai, Jineh had spent more time down here than he cared to think about, blindly
groping through the muck in search of food, shelter, and the occasional stray organ. The
brat was still just as cunning and treacherous as ever, so it was no surprise that his sword
would've been unreliable too.
The echoes faded into the distance. Sliding his feet through the muck to avoid telltale
splashes, Jineh eased his way around the corner to the nearest dry shaft. He pushed
Battousai's sword into it before boosting himself up. Getting home this way would take
longer, but it would be far safer for now.
Once he was well away from the main tunnels, Jineh relaxed enough to resume planning
his next move as he continued onward. At least Enishi wasn't likely to find his lair and
take back the sakabatou before he returned. Jineh was fairly proud of having found an
abandoned pump station up in the hills, surrounded by thick overgrowth that blocked the
access roads and left the underground pipes as the only easy way in. It wasn't even in
danger of being flooded now that the river had been dammed, though the long disuse had
allowed tree roots to snake in and out through the pipe walls.
Rats squeaked and scuttled around him as he crawled through the debris. Rats weren't so
bad once you got to know them. They were clever and resourceful, and if you didn't roast
them for too long, they tasted a bit like chicken. Of course, they'd returned the favor by
eating some of his parts while he couldn't do anything about it, but that was life. He was
saving the real payback for that brat who pulled them out in the first place.
The brief burst of energy through Battousai's sword had healed most of his remaining
wounds, but it had only lasted until his amethyst disappeared. Could he recover and
restore his own gem, or his own sword? Could he pry out the other two jewels by using
the sakabatou? Or could he just find Battousai and do a better job of killing him this
time? After all, two swords had to be better than one.
These happy musings faded when Jineh realized he'd gone astray. He couldn't've gotten
lost, not down here. He knew this place like the back of his hand-- maybe even better,
considering that he hadn't had much of a hand on one side for a while. In fact, he knew
exactly where he was, but it wasn't where he'd planned to go.
He was under the Kamiya dojo. He hadn't come this way for months, not since he'd
brought Enishi and some of his pets to help him get the sakabatou in the first place. These
tunnels hadn't been used since then, from what he could tell, so he was safely alone. But
what was he doing here in the first place?
As he contemplated this question, he became aware of a relentless urge to continue
upward. It was nearly a psychological necessity, like the reflex to draw a sword when
attacked. The thought of this analogy made the internal pressure increase.
Was his own sword calling to him? Battousai had stolen it, but since it wouldn't've done
him much good, maybe the brat had simply thrown it away, or given it to that bluebird
girl he'd been with. Enishi had said she might be Kamiya's daughter, hadn't he? In that
case, it would've made sense for her to bring it back to the dojo. Maybe she was there
with it right now, alone and undefended.
Jineh grinned. It was a long way up to the surface, but he had many pleasant daydreams
to keep him occupied while climbing. Battousai's sword made things more awkward, of
course; without a sheath for it, he had to constantly shift it around from hand to hand,
occasionally tucking it under an arm and trying not to cut himself. Gradually, the pale
wisp of sunlight grew larger and clearer, until at last he was clinging to the last handhold
below the drainage grate.
He peered up through it, at first staying close to the shaft walls in case anyone might spot
him. If there were cars parked in the lot, he couldn't see them, though one of those two-
wheeled contraptions was leaning nearby. The urgency was stronger than ever, nearly
unbearable. Whoever was here really was alone with his sword, but not for long.
Once again, he shoved Battousai's sword up through the grate ahead of him, freeing both
of his hands to push the heavy metal grille up and to the side. The black blade skittered
and sparked onto the pavement as it slid away and out of sight. Jineh had just clambered
halfway out when the sword caught his eye again, in an uncomfortably literal way. The
side of the blade pressed up against his eye-socket, forcing him to lift his head toward its
wielder. It was Battousai again, of course. Didn't that brat have anything better to do?
Well, perhaps he did, judging from the blood spattered over him. It streaked his face and
speckled his clothing; even Jineh's own sword, which Battousai held in his other hand,
had a solid red glaze down its blade "You're an excellent delivery boy," he said. "So
here's my tip: leave Edodale now. If I ever see you around here again, I won't give you
another chance." He shoved the red-glazed blade into Jineh's heart and kicked him back
down the shaft.
The grate slammed shut, a shrinking whirl of light above Jineh as he fell all the way back
down. When he struck bottom, the blade jarred out of his chest. He lay there in a heap of
broken limbs for some time, weakly waving the rats away again. Days or weeks later, he
began to crawl back to his lair, sure of his way this time. Throughout the slow, painful
journey, he kept a firm grip on his newly returned sword until both of them had re-
emerged. He leaned against one crumbling wall of the pump station, gazing at his
amethyst. Its violet depths flickered with the reflections of his eyes, which were as golden
as Battousai's once more.
-----
Wai! I finally finished this chapter! Or at least I think so. Minor revisions may yet be
uploaded, as always, and especially if Fun With Swords still doesn't make sense to
anyone except me.
I must've been a lot more bummed out by ff.n's NC17 purge than I'd expected to be. At
least that's the only excuse I can really come up with for why this chapter took so
freaking bloody long, as some might say.
Many, many thanks to those of you who kept me afloat during the dark times, especially
Firuze Khanume and AutumnFire for reassuring me that no, my drafts did not suck. I
may shift back to FotN5 now, which needs some bits of plot to hold together all the citric
scrompitudinosity I've already written. Woohoo!