Disclaimer: I do not own RK.
Notes: This is a Battousai/Kaoru fic. R rated for violence and sexual references (no, this is NOT a lemon). This is an AU fic (it takes place during the meiji restoration, but I change the relative ages and situations of many characters, henceforth making it AU). My current computer runs on a Dutch language operating system, so there is no spell-check for english (and my dutch sucks so I can't read the directions well enough to try installing one without breaking something). I've proofread this but I can't catch everything, so please be forgiving if there are spelling/grammatical errors.
Chapter 2: The Girl
I arrived at the inn, bloodsoaked but not uncomfortable. In another room, a bunch of the men shouted and fussed over something, but I didn't care to eavesdrop. Drunk men boast about their battles. As if taking a life is something to be proud of. As much as I tried to push them out, the thought of the woman's screaming and begging as I slit her throat remained fresh in my mind. And my wound bled.
A simple flesh wound should have at least stopped bleeding by now. I stepped up to the bucket of water and threw it over myself, washing off the blood of many. I washed it as it slid off my flesh and fell to the ground. And there it will dry and return to the earth. Forgotten. It was already amazing how much one could forget. I'd been an assasin for nearly a year, and already most of the names had faded.
A loud shriek errupted from inside the inn. A woman's shriek. Drunken bastards, they're bothering the innkeeper's girls again. An assasin isn't often one to play the hero, but I took a deep breath and decided to go in anyway. If anything, it would take my mind away from the murder for a few minutes.
I stepped up to the inn and pushed open the sliding door, alert and ready to pull out my katana if need be.
"No!" came a pained shout, "Let go of me!" It was a voice I didn't recognize, so it couldn't have been one of the innkeepers. Laughter echoed throughout the hall as someone fell to the ground with a thud.
"Gee, who knew those Kamiya pigs made'em so pretty?" sniggered one of the men, causing whoever they made a fuss about to shriek and whimper even more. I pushed myself toward the center of the circle, sliding through the tightly packed bodies of hot-blooded Ishin.
I stumbled into the center of the circle, looking down on a young raven- haired girl. She crouched on the tatami mat, bruised and bloodied, her kimono tied lopsided and her hair nearly falling out of her messy ponytail. Two frightened blue eyes quivered wide open, searching for an ally.
"Hey Himura!" called out Ichiro, a man of twenty with dark hair tied in a topknot, "What do you think? Kamiya's spawn." He grabbed the young girl from behind and violently forced her to her feet, her screams harvesting more laughter from the men.
"Let go of me!" she wailed, thrashing her limbs about as Ichiro's hands began to wander up and down her figure.
"Why should I?" taunted Ichiro, "Is it not my right to enjoy the spoils of war?" Her wandering sapphire eyes met mine, dark and beautiful. She has the same eyes as Kenji did. They shone with fresh tears, her pupils wide and afraid.
"What spoils?" I returned harshly, "Lord Katsura ordered us to kill all witnesses- not take them hostage."
"She's Old Man Kamiya's granddaughter. If we have her hostage, he'll pay a pretty penny for her," argued Ichiro.
"The Tenchuu has been completed." A smirk came to Ichiro's face, and he thrust the girl aside, where she tumbled to the floor with a grunt
"So it has, so it has," Ichiro replied darkly. "I should have known nothing could keep Himura Battousai from his mission. The rest of us gave up once we lost track of Kamiya's carriage." Iizuka stepped out of the crowd (which had begun to disperse slightly) and into the center of the room with Ichiro and I.
"Let me make a proposal, Ichiro," deliberated Iizuka, "Since Himura's done such a nice job with the assasination, why not let him have the girl?" Ichiro scowled and shot his gaze toward Kamiya's granddaughter as she tried to crawl away from us. He stepped on the hem of her kimono, cementing her to the ground. I didn't reply, glaring at Iizuka for his perverse suggestions. What the hell is he thinking?! Iizuka stared at me, and lifted an eyebrow, taunting me. Ichiro glowered at the two of us, furious at the threat to his "spoils" but intelligent enough not to cross the Ishin's most skilled assasin.
"If you won't have her, I'm certain Ichiro will be more than willing," Iizuka reminded. The girl on the floor quivered, little frightened gasps escaping her lips as she pondered Ichiro and I. Ichiro's intentions are clear, I reasoned, but if I... no one will ask any questions...
"She'll come with me," I stated. Ichiro snarled and stormed away, giving the girl one last kick in the shin before retreating. She flinched and looked up at me, fearfully. Iizuka glanced at her, then me, and followed Ichiro, first patting me on the shoulder. I watched him leave, and waited until he was out of hearing distance before acknowledging my new hostage.
"Follow me," I ordered gently, "There's been a mistake, but we'll wait until morning to take this issue to Lord Katsura." I turned to her, and my eyes met hers.
"I won't hurt you," I comforted, not having decided yet whether or not that was a lie. The girl turned her head about as she slowly pulled herself to her feet.
"You're just saying that so you can get me in your room without a fuss," she accused, "Well I'll have you know- I'm not moving from this spot!"
"Yes you are," I contradicted as I quickly snapped my hand upon the base of her neck. She shuddered, her pupils dialated, and she fell unconscious into my arms. I lifted her gently, then carried her through the dimly lit hallway of the inn, past three corners and into the last chamber. My room.
I gently laid her atop the tatami mat while I fumbled in the darkness to light a candle. The tiny flame shimmered on the walls of the room, making the shadows dance. Benjiro and I used to look at flame shadows... we'd see them on the wall and tell their stories as we watched them dance.
I shook my head and ignored the candle, pulling out the futon that lay unused in the corner. I slowly unfolded it, a clean scent escaping from its folds. I lay it in the center of the room, then unfolded the deep maroon blanket that came with it. I fingered the material, frowning a bit to find it was thinner than I'd expected.
Grabbing a scrap of black cloth, I knelt beside the girl and slowly wiped the blood from her face. A cut lip, a chipped tooth, a bloody nose, the beginnings of a black eye... this girl had certainly put up a fight. I brushed the red liquid away as best I could without going outside to find some water, then set the scrap aside and gently placed her on the futon. Covering her over with the blanket, she stirred a bit, but didn't achieve full consciousness.
I watched her sleeping form as she lay on the futon, and I fingered the hilt of my katana. I'd killed witnesses tonight... and I'll need to kill her too, won't I? It made everything I'd done to help her completely pointless, but somehow I didn't mind.
I told her I'd consult Katsura in the morning, so I will. The innkeep's women won't stand for a murder inside the inn in any case. This uncompleted branch of Tenchuu nagged at my conscience, but I did my best to ignore it as I prepared for sleep.
I retreated to the stack of books in the corner where I'd found slumber for the past year. I unsheathed my katana and leaned it upon my shoulder, then blew out the candle and drifted off to sleep. It had been a long night, after all.
----
I didn't dream often. A hitokiri must always be alert, and never allow himself to be distracted by hallucinations- even in the depth of slumber. But that night I did.
"Mama! Keitaro want food!" my baby brother demanded, flashing his pouty face.
"Mama's busy, Keitaro my love. You can eat in a few moments. Play with Shinta and Benjiro until then." Benjiro and I sat on the ground, jabbering and laughing as a red and green striped top spun between the two of us. Keitaro waddled between the two of us and stepped on the top, stopping it completely.
"Keitaro!" shouted Benjiro, annoyed, "You always hafta ruin our games!" Keitaro pouted and began to cry, as our mother yelled at the two of us from where she prepared dinner. It had always been that routine, really. Benjiro and I were less than two years apart in age, and each other's best friend, while the gap between Benjiro and Keitaro was four years.
"Don't cry, Keitaro," I comforted, being the eldest of the three children, "You can watch the top spin with us. But stepping on it isn't part of the game." Keitaro nodded as I spun the top once more.
A shifting sound resonated in my ears and my eyes shot open. Judging from the light on the shoji screens, it was close to dawn, and the Kamiya girl had awoken.
"W-where am I?" she asked in a high pitched voice, "How did I get here?"
"Do you remember anything about last night?" I inquired. It would come to her later, if not now.
"Who are you?!" she demanded, "Does my grandfather know where I am? What about mother and Kenji?" She doesn't remember anything. She thinks they're still alive. I hadn't meant to hit her that hard. Though she has been through quite a trauma. Perhaps this is some advanced form of denial.
But if that's the case... then perhaps I can make up a story to explain all this and she can leave here peacefully. Alive. But Katsura would need to be the judge of that, and I didn't dare wake him though he was usually an early riser.
"I've been keeping you safe in here. The sun has not yet risen, so please sleep some more. I must consult my master in a few hours concerning your well being." I kept you in here so you wouldn't be be gang raped. It's not day yet, so shut up and go back to sleep. In a couple hours, Katsura will decide whether you live or die. It was amazing how colorful words could give a tight, frightening situation a safe, appealing demeanor.
It worked, nonetheless. She curled up underneath the blanket, not yet aware of the scabs, bruises, and caked blood covering her face. Some people could fall back to sleep. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of them.
I reached for the the bookcase where my top lay- the same one Benjiro and I had played with so many years ago. I set it upon the ground and spun it, watching the colors swirl together as it meandered around the tatami. Iizuka would laugh if he saw me, a man of age and feared assasin, playing with a child's toy.
The trinket always seemed to calm me, and pulled me into a state as close to meditation as a hitokiri can achieve. Before I knew it, the shoji door slid open behind me, and footsteps entered my room. I caught my top in mid- spin and thrust it into the sleeve of my gi for safekeeping.
"I hope I am not disturbing you, Himura."
"No, Lord Katsura," I replied as he shut the door and moved to kneel beside me. Katsura snatched a few confused glances at the Kamiya girl, who had begun to stir again at the sound of voices. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, flinching as she rubbed the black one.
"Who is the girl?" investigated Katsura. I knew she was one of Hito Kamiya's granddaughters, but now that I thought of it, that was an excellent question.
"Would you be so kind as to tell us your name Miss?" I asked gently as she peered at her blood-covered hands fearfully, deaf to my words.
"Where am I?! Where did this blood come from?! Grandpa? Mama? Kenji?!" She tossed about fervently, her messy ponytail flying in every direction as she spun her head to observe her surroundings.
"Can you give me your name please?" I repeated, "We will try to help you." Katsura gave me an odd look as I said this, but I paid no mind. The girl sat still for a moment, though I could sense fear and anxiety screaming in her ki.
"Kaoru Kamiya," she answered, "Now will you please tell me where I am?!"
"In time. Lord Katsura and I need to speak over a few things," I narrated, then returned my attention to Katsura.
"The men must have taken her from the Kamiya mansion. I've kept her safe in here. She doesn't seem to remember anything about the Tenchuu," I summarized, whispering close to Katsura's ear, "What shall we do with her? She can't be a witness if she has no memory of the event."
Katsura didn't reply, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He never picked up the sword himself, although he always carried one with him. Once I'd asked him about it, and he'd told me he must keep his life pure if I was to be his assasin. He didn't like to kill unless it was necessary for the war or the continuation of the Ishin Shishi.
Kaoru looked at the two of us curiously, bright eyes blinking innocently. She tried her best to fix her kimono by tugging at it, cringing when her fingers brushed across a blood stain, and wincing when she awoke a sore injury. She's suspicious, of course. Who wouldn't be?
"Miss Kaoru," began Katsura, turning toward her, "Isn't your mother's family name Myojin?"
"Yes sir," Kaoru replied, "They're a samurai family."
"They're not high-ranking, and not many know of them, but they have a large family tree with lots of interesting connections. I'm certain they will be happy to have her safely returned to them, and the Ishin Shishi could always benefit from the Myojins as friends," decided Katsura, relating his decision quietly in my ear before turning back to Kaoru. "We shall contact the Myojin family and you shall leave here with them as soon as possible."
"But why not simply return me to my grandfather?" suggested Kaoru, puzzled.
"Hito Kamiya was assasinated last night," I explained nonchalantly, "And so was his daughter in law and his grandson, although they were not originally meant to be involved. You were kidnapped, but we've moved you to this safe location until we can have the Myojin family find a home for you." It was amazing how leaving out a few choice details could turn the villain into the hero.
An anguished cry escaped Kaoru's lips. She looked at her bloodstained hands, felt the blood caked on her face, and began hyperventalating. I watched her as she murmured to herself in denial, hot tears turning red as they mixed with the dried blood on her cheeks. She shook uncontrollably, and her irregular breathing mixed with her tears to become sobs, until she hugged her knees and shuddered, crying to herself.
I felt a strange sensation in my chest as I watched Kaoru. I wanted to comfort her suddenly, to give her my words of sympathy. But I was an assasin, and feelings of mutual pity couldn't be acted upon. I'd killed Kaoru's brother, father, mother, and grandfather. I had no right to speak to her now.
Katsura eyed her nervously for a moment before speaking. "I'll be notifying the Myojins," he excused himself awkwardly, "Good day." Katsura rose to his feet and exited the room, leaving the shoji door open behind him. I watched him leave, then stared at the sobbing Kaoru.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I stood up and made my way toward the door, unsure of any other action.
"I'll leave you alone for a few minutes," I explained as I stood in the open doorway, "Please do not leave this room, for your own well being." She didn't reply, only choked and sobbed upon the futon. I gazed at her as I slowly pulled the shoji door shut. I sighed, exasperated.
I hoped the Myojins would arrive soon.
------
Note: In the manga, when Hiko finds Kenshin amidst the massacre, Kenshin explains that cholera killed his "parents and brothers." At the time, Kenshin was not so old, and no sisters were mentioned, so I decided on using Benjiro and Keitaro to flesh out his very early past a bit more.
This isn't really much of a cliffhanger, but I felt like finishing the chapter here. I'd like to thank all of my wonderful reviewers, your words are very encouraging .