Chapter 3: Under the Blood Moon
*Do-ryu-sen*!
Dirt and small stones
exploded into the air, a deadly barrage that was, nonetheless, a mere feint for
the true attack. As Kenshin had intended, his opponent brought both hands
upward to shield his face, his weapon now uselessly high. He burst forward,
streaking in through the screen of dirt, his katana slamming into the saya and
flashing again, faster than ever, straight out. At the same time, he lowered
his speeding form and twisted his body violently, turning the straight draw
into a spiraling slash, cutting from the legs up. Shrieking wind spun dry
leaves into a frenzy as the very air was sliced apart with the fury of the
attack.
There was a sharp ripping
sound as his blade caught the trailing edge of Okita's haori. Somehow, his
opponent managed to fling himself aside, away from the curve of his blade.
Landing on one hand, Okita Souji rolled himself further away and snapped his
katana up ready to defend. Gritting his teeth, Kenshin forced himself to lunge
forward. *The best defense is offense.*
He could not afford to give the other man the offensive, or risked a repeat of
their last encounter.
Slash, step, thrust.
Dodge, turn, slash.
He was distantly aware of
his body struggling to meet the demands of his will, and slowly losing. His
heartbeat pounded raggedly, a noise in the background that meant nothing. He
saw only his opponent, Okita Souji, his entire being focused on this adversary
and nothing else. He did not know how long it had been, time was meaningless in
the adrenaline-drenched dream world they fought in. At the back of his mind, a
part of him still remembered his mission, but right now, there was only the
deadly dance of steel and muscles, the razor-edge where oblivion waited for the
slightest slip on either side.
He barely blocked Okita
Souji's next attack, his trembling hands faltering under the powerful overhand
blow. A flash of instinct made him jump backward, his left hand reacting faster
than thought to smash aside the blade-tip thrusting for his stomach, his katana
swinging out to drive his opponent back. Okita Souji backed out of reach, then
closed in again.
Parry, jump back, slash.
Side-step, lunge, strike.
His prey was fast,
experienced, and in better condition than he was. The reminder from their last
encounter burned him with the sweat of his exertion. It was bleeding the
strength out of him, slowing him down. Soon, Okita Souji would get through to
him. And all the while, he was watching for the telltale sign of the move that
had given him his wound. He remembered the speed of the pinpoints of light,
turning into a slash that opened his side. Whether or not his abused body had
enough left to carry him through...
A part of him did not
care; the rest of him howled for his enemy's blood.
***
The Shinsengumi
headquarters was brightly-lit, but much too quiet. The only signs of life came
from the small guard's stand on the front gate of the big building. There were
only ten of them, half of them prowling the inside of the building. The five
outside were disgruntled at having their Third Troop left behind to guard an
empty building. After giving enough time to ensure the Hitokiri Battousai would
not know of their involvement before hand, the First Troop had slipped off to
support their captain to kill or capture the Hitokiri Battousai.
To add insult to injury,
their vice-captain had just led ten of their remaining number to handle a
skirmish near the British Embassy. The report indicated it as possibly involving
the Ishin Shishi rebels, which made it important enough to investigate. To
assuage their disappointment, they were playing a rowdy game of dice. Gambling
was illegal, but who was going to see and report them?
As it was, there was one person who saw their gambling,
but reporting to their superior was the last thing on the person's mind. The
dark shape flowed into the shadows shed by the trees in the narrow strip of
courtyard, and swiftly disappeared around a corner of the building. The five
guards continued their game, blissfully unaware of the intruder.
***
"HYAAAAH ! !"
Himura Battousai swung his katana in a vicious downward arc. Okita leapt
backward and immediately swept a horizontal slash. Sparks flew as Battousai parried the blow and, using the momentum
of the block turned his body in a half circle that placed him behind Okita. In
the same motion, he swung his katana in powerful arc to the Captain's
back. If it had connected solidly,
Okita's body would have been cut in half.
But the Shinsengumi
Captain had seen this move before. The moment he saw Battousai's body turning,
he lunged forward as far as he could. Still, the end of the katana sliced into
his lower back painfully and he staggered, grimacing with pain. But it served
to crystallize his thoughts, and he turned the stagger into several quick steps
to open the distance before whirling around.
Battousai was racing for
him, but this time Okita did not let him take the offensive. He lowered his
body for better balance and centered himself. From the corner of one eye, he
saw his broken saya lying nearby. Without thinking, he kicked one half towards
his enemy. The Battousai's katana flashed as he almost contemptuously swept the
projectile aside. But that instance of diversion was enough. Okita's sword was
angled horizontally as he leaned forward then exploded into motion.
One.
His right hand was a blur
as he thrust straight for Battousai's throat. The other man's eyes had widened
the moment he had leveled his katana, and that slight warning was the only
thing saving him as he threw his body to the left and ducked. His katana angled
up front to block but encountered air as Okita's next thrust sped towards the
other man's right shoulder.
Two.
The Battousai's balance
was still off from his desperate dodge. Okita's sword nicked him on the
shoulder but in that split-second he managed to turn his blade slightly to
block the thrust, twisting and trying to side-step out of the way. Okita's eyes
blazed with determination as he put all his speed behind the final thrust. His
arm disappeared from view.
Three.
Okita's katana plunged
into Battousai's left shoulder. Before the other man could react, Okita turned
the thrust into a powerful side slash, opening a long deep gash along the
Battousai's shoulder and upper arm. Blood burst forth from the wound as his
opponent's back hit a tree trunk marking the end of the clearing. The broken
saya he had swept aside clattered unnoticed on the ground behind the
combatants.
**Sankyoku
Ittai Rouga Mekkyaku**
Okita saw the younger man
ignore his heavily-bleeding wound and grip his katana two-handed, body tensing
in preparation. Left, right, or up?
His answer came as Battousai launched himself into the air, blade angled
vertically down to pierce his head. Okita side-stepped the attack with less
than an inch to spare, the sharp wind from the blade's passing hurting his
face. He barely noticed the close miss, the next attack was coming.
From his lower position,
his opponent's katana swept outward to cut off his knees. As he met Battousai's
coldly burning eyes, he gritted his teeth and leapt forward. He saw realization
flickered in the other man's eyes, saw him starting to turn his body, but Okita
didn't give him the chance. Shouting hoarsely, he smashed his knee as hard as
he could against his opponent's right side. His injured side.
A choked cry escaped from
Battousai as the force of the blow sent him rolling to the ground. But before
he fell out of reach, a last desperate twist of his wrist turned his blade to
continue in its arc. Cold steel bit deeply into Okita's left thigh. With a
pained gasp, Okita swayed and almost fell. Looking down, he saw a large gaping wound just above the back of his
knee, bleeding profusely. Cramping pain shot up his entire left leg, but
thankfully the blade did not cut into tendons. A cold shudder went up his
spine. Another inch lower and that leg would have been disabled for life.
The Battousai had not yet
risen from the ground but Okita was not sure his injured leg would support an
attack. Instead, he stood there gulping some much-needed breath.
Himura Battousai had been
pressing his attacks like a demon possessed, and it was taking its toll on both
of them. From here, he could see his opponent's chest rising and falling in
ragged breathing. The sound of his own pounding heart was loud in his ears,
drowning all other sounds. He was covered in sweat, and his muscles ached with
strain and fatigue. Aside from his leg, the chest and back wounds also throbbed
painfully and it all conspired to sap his strength.
But the thing that shook
him the most was the dull constricting pain in his chest, how his lungs seemed
to struggle harder to fill with air than they had been a year ago.
He dismissed the fear
with a stern mental scolding. This was no time to divide his attention with
such trivial worry, or he might get his head handed to him by the assassin in
front of him.
But the Battousai was
wounded too. The shoulder wound was deep and the cut he had given him four days
ago must not had time to heal properly. The kick he gave him should have
re-opened the wound. As he watched, his opponent slowly dragged himself from
the ground. He noticed with grim satisfaction that he was hunched around his
right side, his left hand pressed against the wound. The black cloth prevented
him from seeing if the wound was bleeding, but the man was obviously in pain.
***
Kenshin's world was
centered around the wound in his right side, the wound that filled his entire body
and mind with searing pain. The left palm pressed against it was wet with
blood, soaking into the dark fabric of his gi, and more was seeping out. He
could barely move that arm, the wide slash wound across his shoulder and upper
arm burning with agony. The effort to stand up almost wrenched a scream from
him, but he bit into his lower lip hard to contain it. The wind felt cold
against his fevered flesh. Lifting a red-tinted vision, he saw Okita Souji
standing a few yards from him.
He seemed to be favoring
his left leg, so he did injure him there. But he had felt the bite and knew it
was not enough to cripple the captain. He cursed silently - if his aim had held
true, Okita would be as good as dead. Injured or not, Hitokiri Battousai could
still take out a half-crippled man. But now, he was the one in danger. From the
way his wounds were bleeding, he did not know how much time he had left before
he would collapse from blood loss. Hell, Okita Souji would kill him long before
that.
Time to toss the dice. And
pray that it all went according to plan.
Taking a few deep
breaths, he deliberately straightened up, ignoring the shrieking pain from his
side. Keeping his left hand pressed there, he addressed his Shinsengumi rival
with a voice that sounded reasonably normal. The captain would never know how
much it cost him.
"I suppose this is
the time when you call in your men."
The young captain raised
his eyebrows in an innocent gesture. "Men?" he inquired mildly.
Kenshin fought a flutter
of cold fear that rippled through his heart. More than his death, he feared
that his mission would not succeed. Shut
up, he cursed himself. He is lying.
He evenly said, "I
mean those Shinsengumi First Troop that were hiding in the forest, waiting for
your command to come out."
Okita Souji was silent
for a while, gazing at him with an expressionless look so unfamiliar to his
normally open face.
"How did you
know?" he finally asked in his usual mild tone. "They are very well
trained and you should have been too busy to notice their arrival."
Kenshin simply retorted,
"Does it matter? Are you going to call them in or not?"
Souji silently
scrutinized him again, before raising his left hand and made a sharp beckoning
gesture. In an instant, the forest half surrounding the grass clearing came
alive with twenty men clad in black garbs more reminiscent to ninja than
Shinsengumi, all of them armed and ready.
***
The office that was
located beside Okita Souji's room was bigger than the Captain's, with the same
long windows facing the courtyard outside. Suddenly, the door swung open
smoothly, without a sound. A dark shadow swiftly flowed in and shut the door
just as quietly. A slight fiddling with the lock yield a soft click barely
heard in the total silence. Only then did the shadow glide in towards the far
wall, where a large stark calligraphy of the kanji 'Makoto' hung. The faint
moonlight from the windows illuminated the figure, a slim tall form,
androgynous in the night-black garb of an omnitsu. Gloved fingers ran along the
edge of the simple wooden frame, looking for something. Suddenly they stopped.
For a moment, nothing
happened, then the calligraphy smoothly swung away from the frame on its left
side. Behind the canvas, a bulky steel safe was embedded into the wall. The
omnitsu examined the metal tumbler set into the center of the safe carefully
for a while, before pulling out wires and other esoteric equipment from his
sleeves, and setting to work.
***
Watching the men stepped
out of the woods, Kenshin dryly addressed Okita, "I thought I asked for a
duel. If I wanted an audience, I would not have chosen such a remote
location."
The members of
Shinsengumi First Troop clutched their weapons tighter and eyed the former
Ishin Shishi executioner warily, waiting for an order from their Captain to
charge their enemy.
Okita smiled that same
gentle smile and mildly answered Kenshin, "We are both samurai and we have
our honors. But before that, I am Shinsengumi and you are Ishin Shishi. The
responsibility to something greater than myself outweighs my own honor."
Resting the tip of his
katana on the ground in front of him, he continued, "Should the situation
be different, should neither of us owe our loyalty to such opposite forces, I
would be honored to fight against such a skilled opponent in a duel. Even if I
lose my life, I will have no regrets. " He smiled a bit sadly, "But,
as it is ... Hitokiri Battousai is a powerful asset to the Ishin Shishi. And we
who are in charge of preserving the safety of Kyoto must do whatever needs to be
done to protect it. For whatever it is worth, I am sorry, Himura-san."
Kenshin regarded his
opponent silently, the amber fire that had burned in his eyes during their
entire fight losing some of its intensity. He quietly replied, "No need to
apologize, Okita Souji. I understand perfectly."
Okita knotted his brow at
that answer, his unease growing. The other man was much too calm.
"Himura-san," he said softly, " I asked before and I will ask
again. How did you know of my men's
coming?" As his eyes met the Kenshin's now calm gaze, unafraid and far too
composed to be a man possessed by revenge, his eyes suddenly widened. "Masaka...
" He breathed, staring at the other man, "you...?"
Kenshin continued to hold
his incredulous gaze for an instant, then he suddenly whirled around and broke
into a mad dash for the far side of the clearing. He could hear the shouts that
erupted behind him, but he ignored them, concentrating only on the uneven path.
The pain in his side burst to full-blown agony. His left hand spasmed around it
in a death grip, the fingers starting to go numb. He could taste blood where he
had bitten through his lip, but he ignored it all. There was only one thing his
mind concentrated on: the cliff.
***
The lock combination
clicked softly and the thick steel door swung open on well-oiled hinges.
Underneath the mask, a smile of professional pride spread across tense lips.
The omnitsu quickly riffled through the folders of documents stacked inside,
occasionally stopping to leaf through a few pages. He stopped when he found a
folder containing personnel files. With just the faint illumination from the
moon outside, he began to flip through the pages. Finishing in remarkably short
time, he shoved the folder back into the safe and was searching through the
pile when the faintest of sound outside the door froze him to the spot.
With a loud crash, the
door to the office was kicked open. Standing silhouetted in the doorway was the
tall frame of Saitou Hajime, his naked blade gleaming in his right hand.
***
His breath was coming in
ragged bursts, his whole world had long since narrowed down into two things,
his destination and the pain. He could barely feel the warmth of the blood
covering his nerveless fingers. The open wound on his side had drenched his
entire right side, and each jolting step sent a wave of fiery agony all over
him. His legs were beginning to falter. But that did not matter now, he could
see his target. Just a few more steps,
climb the incline, just a few more steps... It became his litany, until he
could hear the sound of water roaring meters below the cliff.
He instinctively stopped
when he reached the jagged edge, the chasm yawning below him dark even to his
keen eyesight. The moonlight could not reach into the narrow chasm and the
river below was almost invisible, even though he could hear it.
Loud shouts and clanging
weaponry signaled the arrival of the Shinsengumi. He staggered sideways to
watch them as they stopped a few feet from him. Okita Souji was in the lead
despite his wounded leg. White-faced and panting, he called out to him,
"Give it up, Himura Battousai. There is no way out for you."
No way out? The man that stood on the edge of the cliff
peeled his left hand away from his wounded side to grip his saya. Okita's eyes
widened at the sight of the red-washed hand. Slowly, as if he had all the time
in the world, the young samurai gave a little flick to his katana to clean it
and calmly sheathed it.
The rest of the troop
relaxed marginally at that, but Souji tensed, half expecting the Battousai to
drop into his Battou-jutsu stance. He barely opened his mouth to warn his men
when Himura Battousai's expressionless face broke into a smile for the first
time, his cold eyes flashing with a manic mirth. Without another word, he spun
around and leapt into the dark abyss below.
***
"Well, well. Look
who's come to play in the wolf's den," the Shinsengumi captain smirked. He
dropped into a low crouch and his naked blade was lifted level with his eyes, pointing
slightly downward - the Gatotsu stance. "Step away from that safe,"
he ordered coldly, the smugness replaced with chilling menace, like the shadow
of death.
A hundred possibilities
spun through the intruder's mind, but there was only one course left. Just as
Saitou Hajime dashed towards him, his long legs eating the distance between
them with inhuman speed, the intruder's left wrist made a small flicking
motion. Three small, thumb-sized black balls shot from the wrist into the safe.
Upon impact, they exploded into small fireballs with a loud bang. In the
confined space of the safe, fierce tongues of flame consumed the papers inside
immediately.
The omnitsu did not wait
to see the hazard he had caused. As soon as the little projectiles left his
hand, he grabbed a nearby chair, threw it in Saitou's path, and somersaulted
backward. Saitou Hajime did not slow down. The force of his strike smashed the
chair into pieces, the blade piercing through to stab into the intruder's
chest.
Cloth ripped in one long
shallow tear as the somersault motion deflected the tip down the body, the
backward momentum further reducing the impact of the attack. Landing on both
palms, the omnitsu propelled himself further back, booted feet crashing into
the tall windows and leading the rest of the body out of the building. He fell
the two-stories down and landed rolling. Without stopping, the lithe figure
bounded up the trees in the courtyard and flitted above the tall perimeter
fence. The guards running out of the duty station had no chance whatsoever of
catching him.
Saitou Hajime stood in
front of the broken window, his face expressionless. He examined the tip of his
katana, which was dripping a few droplets of blood. Then he looked at the fire
still burning merrily in the safe, consuming top-secret documents of the
Shinsengumi. His fists tightened.
The men below jumped back
in shock as the rest of the window frame crashed to the ground, narrowly
missing them.
***
Okita Souji stood stunned
at the edge of the cliff. His men had surged forward the moment Hitokiri
Battousai had leapt off the edge of the cliff, apparently to his death. But no
amount of peering could break through the darkness of the river canyon.
His vice-captain approached
him hesitantly, "Gumi-chou, what do we do now?"
The question snapped
Okita back to reality. And with that came the last conversation with his enemy.
"We are going back," he snapped. "I'm sure that Hitokiri
Battousai was only a diversion, to lure us away from headquarters. It may
already be too late, but we have to go anyway."
The other man nodded with
wide eyes. Gritting his teeth, Okita turned around and prepared himself for a
painful journey home.
***
The cold snapped him back
to his rational mind. For a moment, water weighed him down all around, the
strong current tumbling him. He completely lost his orientation and felt the
first stirrings of panic. Just when he felt his lungs were about to burst, his
flailing hand broke into air, and he pushed himself in that direction. When his
head broke the surface, he gasped in sweet lungfuls of air, then sputtered as a
wave slapped him on the face. He coughed out the water and concentrated on
staying afloat.
The rocky sides of the
narrow canyon swept past with frightening speed. By some miracle, his katana
and wakizashi were still on his waist. He forced his stiff left hand to clutch
at them, ignoring the voice that berated him for being a fool. He refused to
lose his swords.
But he was not going to
be able to stay afloat much longer either. The side wound that was forgotten in
the sudden danger of drowning was starting to make its presence known again.
The impact with the river surface and immersion in cold water was not helping. Where is that blasted rope? It was supposed
to be near a fallen tree trunk, fifty meters from here. If they messed up in
informing him, I'm going to kill them. If I survive.
Just as he swallowed
another mouthful of river water, he could make out the dim outline of a large shape
leaning halfway across the river, a meter above the surface. There! Mustering all the remaining strength in his body, he braced himself. As
the current swept him below the tree trunk, he raised his free right hand into
the air. Something thin slapped his arm hard just below the wrist. Grabbing at
it desperately, he found his fingers wrapped around two thick twine ropes,
strung horizontal across the river. Using the leverage, he pulled his head out
of the churning water, but was too weak to do anything else.
"Hah, there you
are!! I've been waiting for ages!" a cheerful bellow sounded above him and
a pair of strong arms reached down to grab him by his arms and gi. He was
pulled out of the water as if he weighed little more than a child and placed on
the broad surface of the tree trunk. Lying on his back and gulping deep
breaths, he found himself face-to-face with the widely-grinning face of his
colleague.
"Kyosuke, " he
coughed.
Kyosuke's grin grew even
wider, if that was possible. "Maa, maa. You look like a drowned rat,
Himura. " And with that the other man roared with laughter.
Kenshin winced at the
volume and tried to get up - he did feel like a drowned rat -, when a savage
pain blossomed from his side. With a weak cry, he fell back again, his left arm
refusing to support him. He had lost all sensations from it.
Kyosuke stopped laughing
and peered at him worriedly, "Oi, Himura, what's the matter? You hurt? Let
me have a look." He started to pull at the soaked clothing.
"Don't..." Kenshin
gasped at him before Kyosuke's hand accidentally pressed into his wound. The
burst of agony that followed dimmed his sight and soon darkness enveloped him
completely.
***
Notes :
BIG CREDIT ^__^
1. "Sankyoku Ittai Rouga Mekkyaku" =
translates as "Three-in-one Annihilation of the Fang of the Wolf".
Waiii! Serizawa Kamo-san, arigatou!! He was kind enough to explain the basic
moves to me and let me borrow this name. Yep, this is HIS brain-child ^_^. And
yes, it is based on Okita's true style ^^. The 'Sankyoku' consists of 3 strikes
to the throat and both shoulders, all in one movement. The thrust can be turned
into a horizontal slash, called 'hiratsuki' - a hallmark of Tennen Rishin Ryuu.
In my version at least, Okita had the choice of when to turn the thrust into a
slash, and when not to.
2. Okita Souji's style was the Tennen Rishin Style,
the same as Kondou Isami and Hijikata Toshizou. And for those who notice the
similarity to Saitou's Gatotsu - remember Saitou saying to Kenshin in their
first duel, that his Gatotsu's horizontal slash was inspired from Hijikata's
style, which is the same school as Okita's ^_^. One main difference between
Okita's and Saitou's is that one relies more on speed, the other more on
strength. (Of course, Saitou's true style was the left-hand single thrust,
so...)
On to Chapter 4 : New
Sparks in the Tinder