A/N: This fic is meant to basically weave seamlessly into the main storyline, so expect a lot of "time travel" from here on out. This chapter takes place after Tomoe's death.
Innocence-Chapter 5 Benefactor
"Lay down your swords now and you will live." Himura took a deep breath as he stood facing a squad of ten Shinsengumi, steeling himself for the violence that he was about to commit.
"Never!" One of them shouted, "Do you think we have no honor?" Despite their brave words, some of the men trembled nervously under his amber gaze, rustling the fabric of their white and aqua uniforms. As they faced him the three to the front held out their drawn swords parallel to the ground with one of their hands resting on the tip, preparing to execute the Gatotsu, the signature move of their force.
"Foolish men." Kenshin thought. "There is no dishonor in wanting to live." But thanks to their fanatical honor code, the Shinsengumi could always be trusted to follow him, and so he had led them down this dark alleyway, away from the group of Ishin Shishi officials he was protecting. Narrowing his eyes, Himura crouched in battle ready stance, his hand poised over the hilt of his sheathed sword. "Come."
Giving a fierce roar, the rest drew their swords and they charged him en masse.
It was all over in seconds. Seeming to disappear, Battousai leaped overhead, taking out the five men to the rear in three wide arcs. Realizing this, the remaining men started to cry out in fear and anger, but before they could even turn around the assassin went diving to his right and leaped forward, spinning like a missile through the air, his swing cutting down another two men. As he swung he somersaulted and his feet came to rest upon the brick wall of the ally a moment before he pushed off into the air and came down upon the last three, splitting them from shoulder to hip in three rapid strokes. Had there been an onlooker, all he or she would have witnessed was a blur of red, blue, and flashing silver that tore through the men like an axe through tissue paper, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. The only sound was the sickening crunch of steel slicing flesh and bone and the faint gasps of men who died before they could scream.
As the last man fell, Himura paused silently for a moment in the midst of the carnage before shaking the blood off his sword and sheathing it. Then, without a backward glance, he turned a corner and skirted down the narrow street.
Suddenly a cry rang out from the next street over. "Stop! Stop! Help me!" the desperate plea echoed, carrying the sound of pain and tears. The voice seemed familiar to Himura somehow.
Leaping onto the nearby roof, Himura peered down at the street below. There in the moonlight he saw a crowd of boys in their early teens crowded around a small crumpled form. One of the boys, who by the posture of the others seemed to be their leader, was kicking the figure repeatedly in the ribs and stomach. The piteous cries of their victim were met only with harsh laughter. The leader gave a last kick and with a groan the figure became suddenly motionless.
Himura was horrified to recognize the figure as Koji.
The boys' laughter suddenly stopped, as a bloody, fire-eyed demon seemed to descend on them from the sky, sword drawn and ready.
Calmly he took a few steps toward them. Backing away in terror at the fearsome sight, they glanced at one another a moment before turning to flee.
Glaring angrily as the last of the boys disappeared from view, Himura sheathed his sword before kneeling beside Koji to check the child's pulse. He found him to be mercifully alive but semiconscious. As he examined the child's battered form Himura stifled the brief impulse to enact a swift and terrible justice on those responsible. Taking Koji in his arms, Kenshin slung him gently over his shoulder and began walking toward a nearby safe house.
Knocking gently on the door, he spoke a memorized phrase to a dignified, elderly man with salt and pepper hair.
The lamplight from the open door shown on Kenshin's face and the man's eyes widened fearfully in recognition of his identity, but seeing the child in his arms, he relaxed and stood back, allowing them to enter. "May I be of service?" The man asked, bowing in welcome.
Kenshin inclined his head slightly, "Yes, I require water and medical supplies."
"Very well." Turning, the elderly man led Kenshin into an adjoining room decorated with some ink drawings, a small lamp, a table, and a futon.
Unrolling the futon, Kenshin kneeled and gently laid down Koji.
The man left briefly and returned with a pan of warm water, some cloths, and a bag of medical supplies, which he placed on the floor next to the futon.
Removing Koji's gi, Kenshin dipped a cloth in the pan of water and began carefully cleaning the boy's bruises and scrapes. Without waking, Koji whimpered and tried to push him away. Carefully restraining him, Kenshin applied some ointment and bandaged the worst of his wounds. Satisfied with this, he spared a moment of concern that the boy had not yet regained consciousness. He appeared to have a minor concussion, but feeling the bump Kenshin doubted that there would be any permanent damage. Kenshin again took the child in his arms, careful not to put any pressure on his bruised ribs. Koji stirred and moaned slightly before relaxing; his arms curled loosely around Kenshin's neck.
As he rose, the elderly man who had welcomed them walked in. "You are leaving?" he asked, "So soon?"
"Yes," Kenshin said as he walked to the door, "He needs to be taken home. Thank you for your hospitality."
"It is nothing," the man replied, smiling slightly as he opened the door for them, "I owe the Ishin much."
"Still, you have my thanks." Kenshin said before going out into the night.
Himura crept slowly and carefully down the street, his pace hindered by his desire not to shake Koji. Searching his memory, he continued along the street until he found the house he recognized as the Toshiros'. He noticed it had become shabby and run down since his visit a nearly a year ago. With a skill borne of long practice, he slid open the shoji door and crept silently into the house. Upon entering he saw Koji's mother Keiko lying asleep on a cushion against the far corner. She was still fully dressed in her kimono and obi, as though she had fallen asleep accidentally while sitting up late. An empty unrolled futon lay in the middle of the floor. Kenshin carefully laid Koji on the futon and turned to leave.
A sob stopped him.
Keiko appeared to be dreaming. "Jiro, why did you have to die?" she sobbed softly in her sleep.
"So he is dead." Kenshin thought regretfully. "I told myself I was going to keep an eye on him." Sliding the door shut, Kenshin sighed sorrowfully into the night air, then moved stealthily back to the inn.
Keiko kneeled in her small garden weeding the vegetables she grew there to supplement their modest income. As she worked she glanced wonderingly at the occasional passerby, pondering the peculiar events of the last few months. When Jiro had been killed in the line of duty there had been little time for mourning. Without a source of income, they were soon desperately poor. Hideki found work as a laborer in a farming village several miles from Kyoto, but his meager salary was not enough to feed three people. To make matters worse a group of thugs had begun harassing the neighborhood, and Keiko spent much time worrying for their safety, especially Koji's.
Then one evening a few months ago Koji had failed to come home at dinnertime. Keiko searched the streets for hours, finally going home at sunset, weeping at the thought of never seeing her little son again. Still, something told her not to give up all hope, and so she had stayed awake, waiting and hoping for his return. Weary from her searching, she soon drifted off without realizing it. The next morning she woke to find that miraculously, Koji was sleeping peacefully in front of her. Keiko was filled with joy and wonder. What mysterious benefactor had found him and treated his wounds? And why had they done so anonymously, skulking in and out of their home like a criminal rather than an agent of mercy? Keiko almost would have guessed some divine force, some supernatural aid in response to her prayers had it not been for the equally strange and fortuitous events that had been following since.
Each month, sometime during the night, someone left an envelope of money where Keiko would find it, enough to feed and clothe all three of them. It was always left in a different place than the last time. Sometimes, she found it in the kitchen, other times in the bedrooms and once even among her gardening tools. Each month without fail it came, and no matter how hard she tried, how carefully she stayed awake, she could never find out who her unseen benefactor was.
Kenshin looked down from the second floor window of the inn at the group of children playing noisily in the street. They were playing some sort of game that involved kicking a can and running in circles. The object seemed to be to get the can to fall into a ditch along one side of the clearing before one of the other children could kick it away. Somehow, the children's activity fascinated Kenshin. He had never had the chance to play such games as a child: Master Hiko had hardly approved of such things, and before that he was expected to work, first in the fields with his brothers, and then, after the epidemic, for his owners. Kenshin's eyes were particularly drawn to one running figure, who, after months of rest and more months of forced confinement by his anxious mother, was now free to run around in the sunny weather.
"Koji! Be careful now!" His mother called sharply below.
Kenshin sighed and fingered the envelope in his pocket. Tonight he would still be required to deliver an end to those who opposed the Ishin Shishi. But he took solace in one fact: he was no longer an assassin—this envelope was white. It contained not a sentence of death but a means of life for those he had decided to protect. Considering it was wartime, Kenshin received a handsome sum for his services, but besides essentials and the occasional bit of sake he never spent any of it. "Good then," Kenshin thought, "that it should go to victims of this war." A gentle breeze blew, carrying a sweet floral scent through the window. As he inhaled Kenshin's face adopted the small sad smile and haunted eyes of one absorbed in cherished memories and grief. "I may not be able to protect without killing yet, as I promised her, but I can still protect." Putting a hand to the cross-shaped scar on his left cheek, Kenshin sighed deeply and watched Koji run inside, answering his mother's calls to come for lunch.
Many thanks to koe760, SilverKnight7, Wolfgirl13, Oro-chan no Tenshi (cute name), ChiisaiLammy (thanks again for your help), Riddle-Master (Tomoe fans unite! Good luck on your tennis!), the sacred night (Glad you liked my characterization. I was a bit worried some would consider it OOC)
Innocence-Chapter 5 Benefactor
"Lay down your swords now and you will live." Himura took a deep breath as he stood facing a squad of ten Shinsengumi, steeling himself for the violence that he was about to commit.
"Never!" One of them shouted, "Do you think we have no honor?" Despite their brave words, some of the men trembled nervously under his amber gaze, rustling the fabric of their white and aqua uniforms. As they faced him the three to the front held out their drawn swords parallel to the ground with one of their hands resting on the tip, preparing to execute the Gatotsu, the signature move of their force.
"Foolish men." Kenshin thought. "There is no dishonor in wanting to live." But thanks to their fanatical honor code, the Shinsengumi could always be trusted to follow him, and so he had led them down this dark alleyway, away from the group of Ishin Shishi officials he was protecting. Narrowing his eyes, Himura crouched in battle ready stance, his hand poised over the hilt of his sheathed sword. "Come."
Giving a fierce roar, the rest drew their swords and they charged him en masse.
It was all over in seconds. Seeming to disappear, Battousai leaped overhead, taking out the five men to the rear in three wide arcs. Realizing this, the remaining men started to cry out in fear and anger, but before they could even turn around the assassin went diving to his right and leaped forward, spinning like a missile through the air, his swing cutting down another two men. As he swung he somersaulted and his feet came to rest upon the brick wall of the ally a moment before he pushed off into the air and came down upon the last three, splitting them from shoulder to hip in three rapid strokes. Had there been an onlooker, all he or she would have witnessed was a blur of red, blue, and flashing silver that tore through the men like an axe through tissue paper, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. The only sound was the sickening crunch of steel slicing flesh and bone and the faint gasps of men who died before they could scream.
As the last man fell, Himura paused silently for a moment in the midst of the carnage before shaking the blood off his sword and sheathing it. Then, without a backward glance, he turned a corner and skirted down the narrow street.
Suddenly a cry rang out from the next street over. "Stop! Stop! Help me!" the desperate plea echoed, carrying the sound of pain and tears. The voice seemed familiar to Himura somehow.
Leaping onto the nearby roof, Himura peered down at the street below. There in the moonlight he saw a crowd of boys in their early teens crowded around a small crumpled form. One of the boys, who by the posture of the others seemed to be their leader, was kicking the figure repeatedly in the ribs and stomach. The piteous cries of their victim were met only with harsh laughter. The leader gave a last kick and with a groan the figure became suddenly motionless.
Himura was horrified to recognize the figure as Koji.
The boys' laughter suddenly stopped, as a bloody, fire-eyed demon seemed to descend on them from the sky, sword drawn and ready.
Calmly he took a few steps toward them. Backing away in terror at the fearsome sight, they glanced at one another a moment before turning to flee.
Glaring angrily as the last of the boys disappeared from view, Himura sheathed his sword before kneeling beside Koji to check the child's pulse. He found him to be mercifully alive but semiconscious. As he examined the child's battered form Himura stifled the brief impulse to enact a swift and terrible justice on those responsible. Taking Koji in his arms, Kenshin slung him gently over his shoulder and began walking toward a nearby safe house.
Knocking gently on the door, he spoke a memorized phrase to a dignified, elderly man with salt and pepper hair.
The lamplight from the open door shown on Kenshin's face and the man's eyes widened fearfully in recognition of his identity, but seeing the child in his arms, he relaxed and stood back, allowing them to enter. "May I be of service?" The man asked, bowing in welcome.
Kenshin inclined his head slightly, "Yes, I require water and medical supplies."
"Very well." Turning, the elderly man led Kenshin into an adjoining room decorated with some ink drawings, a small lamp, a table, and a futon.
Unrolling the futon, Kenshin kneeled and gently laid down Koji.
The man left briefly and returned with a pan of warm water, some cloths, and a bag of medical supplies, which he placed on the floor next to the futon.
Removing Koji's gi, Kenshin dipped a cloth in the pan of water and began carefully cleaning the boy's bruises and scrapes. Without waking, Koji whimpered and tried to push him away. Carefully restraining him, Kenshin applied some ointment and bandaged the worst of his wounds. Satisfied with this, he spared a moment of concern that the boy had not yet regained consciousness. He appeared to have a minor concussion, but feeling the bump Kenshin doubted that there would be any permanent damage. Kenshin again took the child in his arms, careful not to put any pressure on his bruised ribs. Koji stirred and moaned slightly before relaxing; his arms curled loosely around Kenshin's neck.
As he rose, the elderly man who had welcomed them walked in. "You are leaving?" he asked, "So soon?"
"Yes," Kenshin said as he walked to the door, "He needs to be taken home. Thank you for your hospitality."
"It is nothing," the man replied, smiling slightly as he opened the door for them, "I owe the Ishin much."
"Still, you have my thanks." Kenshin said before going out into the night.
Himura crept slowly and carefully down the street, his pace hindered by his desire not to shake Koji. Searching his memory, he continued along the street until he found the house he recognized as the Toshiros'. He noticed it had become shabby and run down since his visit a nearly a year ago. With a skill borne of long practice, he slid open the shoji door and crept silently into the house. Upon entering he saw Koji's mother Keiko lying asleep on a cushion against the far corner. She was still fully dressed in her kimono and obi, as though she had fallen asleep accidentally while sitting up late. An empty unrolled futon lay in the middle of the floor. Kenshin carefully laid Koji on the futon and turned to leave.
A sob stopped him.
Keiko appeared to be dreaming. "Jiro, why did you have to die?" she sobbed softly in her sleep.
"So he is dead." Kenshin thought regretfully. "I told myself I was going to keep an eye on him." Sliding the door shut, Kenshin sighed sorrowfully into the night air, then moved stealthily back to the inn.
Keiko kneeled in her small garden weeding the vegetables she grew there to supplement their modest income. As she worked she glanced wonderingly at the occasional passerby, pondering the peculiar events of the last few months. When Jiro had been killed in the line of duty there had been little time for mourning. Without a source of income, they were soon desperately poor. Hideki found work as a laborer in a farming village several miles from Kyoto, but his meager salary was not enough to feed three people. To make matters worse a group of thugs had begun harassing the neighborhood, and Keiko spent much time worrying for their safety, especially Koji's.
Then one evening a few months ago Koji had failed to come home at dinnertime. Keiko searched the streets for hours, finally going home at sunset, weeping at the thought of never seeing her little son again. Still, something told her not to give up all hope, and so she had stayed awake, waiting and hoping for his return. Weary from her searching, she soon drifted off without realizing it. The next morning she woke to find that miraculously, Koji was sleeping peacefully in front of her. Keiko was filled with joy and wonder. What mysterious benefactor had found him and treated his wounds? And why had they done so anonymously, skulking in and out of their home like a criminal rather than an agent of mercy? Keiko almost would have guessed some divine force, some supernatural aid in response to her prayers had it not been for the equally strange and fortuitous events that had been following since.
Each month, sometime during the night, someone left an envelope of money where Keiko would find it, enough to feed and clothe all three of them. It was always left in a different place than the last time. Sometimes, she found it in the kitchen, other times in the bedrooms and once even among her gardening tools. Each month without fail it came, and no matter how hard she tried, how carefully she stayed awake, she could never find out who her unseen benefactor was.
Kenshin looked down from the second floor window of the inn at the group of children playing noisily in the street. They were playing some sort of game that involved kicking a can and running in circles. The object seemed to be to get the can to fall into a ditch along one side of the clearing before one of the other children could kick it away. Somehow, the children's activity fascinated Kenshin. He had never had the chance to play such games as a child: Master Hiko had hardly approved of such things, and before that he was expected to work, first in the fields with his brothers, and then, after the epidemic, for his owners. Kenshin's eyes were particularly drawn to one running figure, who, after months of rest and more months of forced confinement by his anxious mother, was now free to run around in the sunny weather.
"Koji! Be careful now!" His mother called sharply below.
Kenshin sighed and fingered the envelope in his pocket. Tonight he would still be required to deliver an end to those who opposed the Ishin Shishi. But he took solace in one fact: he was no longer an assassin—this envelope was white. It contained not a sentence of death but a means of life for those he had decided to protect. Considering it was wartime, Kenshin received a handsome sum for his services, but besides essentials and the occasional bit of sake he never spent any of it. "Good then," Kenshin thought, "that it should go to victims of this war." A gentle breeze blew, carrying a sweet floral scent through the window. As he inhaled Kenshin's face adopted the small sad smile and haunted eyes of one absorbed in cherished memories and grief. "I may not be able to protect without killing yet, as I promised her, but I can still protect." Putting a hand to the cross-shaped scar on his left cheek, Kenshin sighed deeply and watched Koji run inside, answering his mother's calls to come for lunch.
Many thanks to koe760, SilverKnight7, Wolfgirl13, Oro-chan no Tenshi (cute name), ChiisaiLammy (thanks again for your help), Riddle-Master (Tomoe fans unite! Good luck on your tennis!), the sacred night (Glad you liked my characterization. I was a bit worried some would consider it OOC)