(A/N) Wow, people don't like the idea of Kaoru being dead... not that I'm surprised, I like her too. That's why I've installed a certain scene into this chapter to assure everyone of her living state. Read, enjoy, review, you know the routine. Just please remember to review. I love reading it whether its good or bad, praise or death threats.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my collection of empty Altoid boxes. The computer is my mom's.
A Bittersweet Elegy
Chapter 2: Travesty of Justice
"A dog can be appeased by food and a man can be bought with money... but no one will ever own Mibu's wolf."
-Saitoh Hajime
Silence. Such a dangerous virtue as the shield of nothing that has no face, no features, no tangibility, but is all too vivid in its void on continuity. A comfort to some, a danger to others, it is the epitome of what dictates one's psychological stability. It claws with ethereal talons, watches with chimerical eyes, whispers with gentle voices that utter hushed elegies into the passings of the air that carry to deaf ears. And yet it is serene and intriguing. The most deadly force placed in the most easing of comforts.
He welcomed it gladly revelling in its cold, brazen touch. There was much to think about, and only silence could sustain the needed company he required for the task. Life was something one could reminisce about with the fleeting of a moment, but contemplating life from the views of another's perspective was something to be done in the presence of only one's own thoughts. He needed to think about his life, her life, their life. What was it? What had it been? What could it have been? He'd seen many a jovial, old couple strolling down the streets in Tokyo with their arms intertwined and their faces full of contentment as they finished errands together. Despite the obvious aging of their faces, they had remained enamored by each other, often stealing a moment to bask in the other's gaze or gingerly touch a close appendage.
Could they have been like that?
Would they have been like that?
His amber eyes burned into the opposite wall as he fisted his hands, the war within his mind waging with new found strength as memories from a day shortly passed assaulted him. Those men had deserved to die, he reasoned within himself. They allowed her to die without even a prayer of rescue while keeping him from doing what they were not willing to do themselves. If they'd only let him pass he would have spared their lives; if they'd only let him pass he could have saved her from that inferno.
Angrily, he pressed his lids securely over his eyes willing his aggravated breathing to steady and the quiver in his body to disperse and leave. A minute passed and he was settled, his eyes still shut as he leaned against the dank wall with one armed propped upon his bent knee while the other rested comfortably in his lap and across his other leg stretched out before him in a bored manner. His chin rested gently against his chest, his brow bowed.
The steady drip of a nearby water-source accompanied his thoughts in a rhythmic pattern beat into a cadence. Each inflection thudded against his ears with repeated precision until the dull meter was joined by the measured tapping of foot falls travelling in his direction. He didn't bother to move his head from where it rested at the approach of the new person, nor did he bat his eyes to steal a glance at their figure. The sound of the man's leisurely footsteps was already memorized long ago from the low thump of the rubber heel to the dull tink of the toe as the foot was lifted.
Eventually, the steps ended at his cell waiting against the wooden door to peer in through the small barred window at his shadow resting in the dark corner. The clink of keys broke the silence as the door was opened and a flood of light illuminated the room for a brief second before the door was once more closed and darkness settled in again. Kenshin watched the exchange of light through his lids not bothering to even twitch the edge of his mouth to show he was aware of what was progressing around him.
Just as well, Saitoh thought to himself. The man had lost so much in his life. They all had, all the survivors of the Bakumatsu, but some suffered far more than others and for reasons that haunted them beyond the constraints of the body. He himself was no exception. This man was no exception.
"Himura..." the former captain of the Shinsengumi addressed the languid man in the corner.
Little response was given to the greeting; instead, the man's crimson head lulled back on his shoulders to rest against the wall supporting him.
Saitoh took a step forward wondering how he should begin his next reasonings and where he should draw the line to the slight harassing he knew would be unavoidable. If provoked too much in this state, the hitokiri may prove to be rather aggressive and dangerous. He pondered another moment before giving up. Screw it. He was the one with the sword and the short bastard knew it too. The greater upper hand was by far in his favor.
"I warned you, didn't I?" he began slowly in a low, calm voice. "I told you they would condemn you just as you did them. The government's collapsing because of a few individuals who would rather restore tyranny than save the rights and lives of their countrymen. That's why they needed you to do what you once did. After all," he snarled, obvious disgust etching into his words, "you are our country's savior. You are the Battousai, the slayer of men and gods alike." He paused for another moment waiting for the man before him to make some sort of acknowledgement that he was even listening before snorting. "I guess not even the mighty Hitokiri Battousai can keep his life intact in this day and age, though."
"You knew didn't you?" a hushed voice echoed limply against the walls of the small cell.
"Knew what?" Saitoh responded as he watched the cords in Himura's exposed neck contract as the man swallowed and began to talk once more.
"You knew what they were planning for me, didn't you?" His voice was hardly even a whisper, strained from the lack of moisture gnawing within his raw throat. "You knew they meant to kill her... to get back at me."
Another indignant snort followed as Saitoh crossed his arms about his unifromed chest and leaned heavily against the opposite wall. Strangely, his voice didn't hold the same hostility as his actions when he spoke. "No. No I didn't know about the fire until I saw the clouds of smoke almost a mile away into town."
Kenshin's throat tensed as he forced down a retort, settling instead to state, "It was cowardly to target her. She was by all means innocent. An alibi was needed."
Saitoh immediately understood the unstated question and nearly sighed as he answered, "A kitchen fire, they say, caused by an unattended and lit stove."
The shadowed figure audibly growled and gripped the leg of his hakama tightly fighting the urge to jump up and scream his injustices. "The stove was left unlit when I left."
"Then who ever is behind this obviously lit it after you left."
"But that wouldn't cause the fire to light so quickly."
"Who cares. As long as the ashes of the stove look older than the ones around everything else, it's a plausible cause." Saitoh shrugged feigning indifference. "A plausible alibi."
"They deserve to die," Kenshin said in a low tone, his eyes opening slowly to stare at the wall opposite him in anger. "All of them."
At a loss, the taller man still leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a nonchalant expression embedded deeply into his face. How did one answer such a malicious accusation whether it was true or not? The lustrous, amber glow of the hitokiri's eyes helped him to place the shorter man's position in the corner, but in no way did they ease his tension. At least that hateful stare wasn't directed at him. But the silence would drag on soon into discomfort as each brewed in their own thoughts. Something needed to be said, and when the once clean swordsman grown shabby from days left to himself in a cell moved to lean his head back against the wall, he remembered a thought that may alleviate at least a small part of the younger man's mind.
"She didn't die as alone as you seem to think she did," he told the shadowed shell, averting his eyes to stare out the small window into the lit hallway.
Instantly, he felt the tingle of Himura's glare pressed pointedly against the side of his face though his head did not move from its perch against the wall.
"The rooster and the brat were there," he stated suddenly wishing he had a cigarette.
The fierce ki beside him grew in tumultous amounts and he realized his folly and moved to correct it as he sensed the muscles in the sitting man's body tense.
"Granted they weren't in the room with her," he quickly continued, careful to keep the same level of nonchalance he usually bore towards others. "They tried several times to reach her, but the fire was too hazardous. They could hardly even get inside." A quick glance back told him the Battousai had calmed only the smallest of degrees and was peering into his lap with a redolent expression. "So they stayed outside her room the entire time barely out of the fire's reach." He sneered to himself remembering their vain hopefulness at the situation. "Almost got burned alive themselves standing there trying to talk to her through the wall."
"Mmm," came a low mumble from the corner when the information was asserted completely.
A moment passed into a second and a second into a minute as the two men waited in the cell listening for anything the other might say or mumble unconsciously. Then a minute passed into ten and still the silence remained unbroken. The distant sound of a cell opening and closing followed by the steady rhythm of footsteps reminded Saitoh of his limited time as he absently pulled a watch from his coat and informed himself of the passing time. He had to have an answer soon.
"You know why you're here." It was a statement not intended in the least to be questioning.
He was answered by the dull nod of his brief companion as he continued.
"The department is at a loss of what to do with you. You've been here for a week now and none of them can seem to agree on a practical punishment. You killed several officers which in all technicality puts you as a deserving candidate for execution, but because of your history in the Meiji services and such, they're not sure if it would bring worthy justice."
"So what is to become of me?" Kenshin asked, the mocking tone is his voice riling a rueful smile from the wolf.
"They've decided to let you choose." He waited a moment for the news to register in the other's mind and saw the short glint of surprise rise in his amber eyes before proceeding. "It would seem that your skills are something they would like to borrow through your services to them. At first when they told me to ask for your consent I told them of your philosophies about working for the government, so they gave you other choices. It's either work for the Meiji as a spy or involved associate, meet your death by execution in a few days, or wait out the rest of your natural life in this cell and others just like it."
The air thickened in the moments that followed as both men processed the conditions. A minute passed and the former hitokiri sitting stationary in the dingy corner snorted derisively raising a hand to smooth the knotted hair atop his head and rub the dirt from the slowly lengthening stubble along his jaw and upper lip. A week without simple conviences would do that to a man: leave him dirty and hungry with the remanents of a slowly growing beard.
"So," Saitoh began slowly breaking the silence even further. "What will you do?"
"I am a swordsman," came the answer just as slowly as the other man's eyes closed and his chin came to rest once again on his chest. He spoke only loud enough for the cell's other occupant to hear, but with a hidden sarcasm that left the wolf intrigued. "I am a swordsman. Criminals are slaughtered daily by the state and petty thieves spend their days rotting in cages like animals. Thugs are offered to rectify themselves by spying on their own brothers and felons are forced to act as government dogs to the public eye."
Saitoh watched him meticulously, a consenting smirk beginning to rise from the corners of his mouth. "And what of us? What of swordsmen?"
Moving his eyes to meet the older man's stare, Kenshin reciprocated his haughty smirk, a livid flame igniting deep within his burning gaze. He snorted amusedly and his smirk widened into a grin. Then he simply stated matter of fact, "We claim our vengances."
"Mm," Saitoh hummed correspondingly bowing his head briefly as he turned on his heel toward the cell door. "I suppose I should tell them of your resolution then, shouldn't I?"
"I suppose you should," Kenshin replied, the grin still tugging maliciously at his lips.
Saitoh hummed again in response and stepped out of the door, light once again briefly gracing the dank room before the door was closed and the light was extinguished.
The fiery-haired assasin snorted dryly to himself in amusement as he waited for Saitoh's footsteps to sound off in the quiet corridor beyond. Instead, the wiry man's voice caught him from the opening in the window as a small, metallic object was thrown towards him.
"I believe this is yours, Battousai," Saitoh curtly said just as Kenshin caught the object before it hit the wall. "You dropped it." With that, the former leader of the Shinsengumi's third division strided away and into the hall.
He stared out at the window a moment as he grasped the small object laying absently in his hand and his thoughts wandered towards Saitoh for a moment before his attention was redirected towards his hand. Opening his fingers, he gazed down idly at the thing, recognition instantly furrowing his brow as he quickly glanced back out the window. There in his palm rested the same sapphire and diamond encrusted ring he had bought a week ago. Its golden band still proudly gleamed in the sparce light while the gems themselves glittered in fascinating hues despite the dark.
It reminded him so much of her.
Carefully, he maneuvered it between his fingers examining it the same way he had done the day he bought it before gently folding it into his hand and clutching it tightly as a dull pain throbbed against his chest. He'd keep it for memories sake. He owed her at least that.
"Will she be ok?"
"I dunno."
"What! You're a doctor, you HAVE to know!"
"Look kid, I may be a doctor, but I'm not god."
"SO?!"
"SO, that means I don't know."
A low growl was heard as the arguement broke off and the younger of the two voices receded to watching the patient on the futon lay sprawled on their stomach, their back bare and covered in different assortments of oils, creams and bandages all the way up to the neck.
The other sighed after a moment, taking a bottle from her side and squeezing the contents thickly into her hand before gently massaging it into her patient's tattered shoulder bare of skin. When she was finished she stood and looked behind her, softly addressing the person sitting against the far wall.
"Sano," she said softly, almost endearingly. "I need to rewrap your burns."
She saw him blink before he sighed and stood, walking over to the medical table and holding his arms out to the female doctor as she silently unwove them, discarded the soiled material, and bathed his arms in lotions just as she'd done the unconscious patient behind her. As she began to apply fresh bandages to his exposed arms and shoulders, she smiled, risking brief glances up at the man's face flirtily.
"What is it, fox?" he remarked, his voice void of any teasing or displeasured emotion. Instead it was quiet, almost a whisper.
"That was very brave," she said shortly, her voice still strangely soft. "What you did for our little tanuki."
He shrugged despite the intense pain the action incited in his burned shoulders and allowed a small grin to reach his lips. "I'm sure she would have done the same for me."
Megumi nodded as her hands continued with her work, involving a certain amount of care she never showed the rooster-head before as admiration filled her.
"It was still very brave of you." She finished the knot and smiled genuinely up at him unable to hold back the glint in her eyes.
In response, all he could do was continue to grin stupidly as he returned her gaze.
Behind them, Yahiko was ignorant of the exchange basing all of his attention on the young woman lying beside him. It was tragic for him to see her like this. It hurt and he had no recollection of any similar pain to compare it to. His eyes watered slightly as he fought the emotions that threatened to surface. Gingerly, he reached out a small hand, his fingers slowly seeking a loose strand of her hair and pulling it away from her scorched back with painstaking care.
"Will she be ok," he asked again, his voice so mild the room's other occupants nearly missed it.
Megumi glanced between the boy and the man in front of her before turning to kneel beside the child and in a moment of uncharacteristic behavior wrapped her arms around his smaller body and gave him a firm, comforting squeeze.
"I hope so," she said finally leaning back on her heels as the man came to perch beside her. "I hope so."
"I hope you understand what it is you have agreed to do," Yamagata said quietly to the figure reclining against the wall in the shadows at the other side of the room.
"I understand," the figure answered, his golden eyes reflecting upon the fire that slowly ebbed in the room's hearth. "I understood before I was even given the choice."
The older man nodded understandingly before sitting back deeply in his chair and crossing a booted calf over the knee of his other leg while his hands came to rest in his lap. "I'm sure you did." He paused a moment in reflection before continuing, "I'm sure Saitoh Hajime filled you in for the most part about your duties."
"They aren't much different from what they used to be, I'm sure I'll manage easily enough," the cold tenor stated fingering the lacings of the new sword at his side.
Yamagata scoffed in his seat moving a hand to massage his aching temples, he was almost jaded with disappointment and disgust over the events of the past two weeks. First the fire and now this. "Why are you suddenly agreeing to this, Himura?" he nearly barked, confusion and anger pilaging through his voice. "What happened to your 'will to protect'?"
The hitokiri didn't even flinch at the malevolent tone and brash words coming from the man on the other side of the room. He was almost too composed to be assuaged by this man's words. So, he answered with the same dry voice he'd been using for days as he stepped forward towards the desk in the middle of the room.
"I found it all to be a cruel hoax; another idealism founded by the ignorant."
"Even in death you would dare to call her ignorant?" Yamagata asked, his surprise evident.
"No, not her. She was naive, but not ignorant. I was ignorant enough for the both of us. My personal idealisms began to cloud my perception of reality and I forgot one of the most important things a man could ever learn throughout his life."
"And what is that?"
"The will to protect is nothing without the will to destroy. I remembered that the hard way."
Yamagata stared at his pale visage for a minute in the dying light of the fire before nodding slowly and reaching for something on the edge of his desk.
"Here," he said curtly reaching to hand the younger man a small packet. "This is your information about scheduals and government heirarchy. As an assasin to the Meiji, you will be required to be held completely in the shadows. I'm sure you already know that already as well so I'll cut down to the main faction of my speech." He cleared his voice and sorted through a few papers on his desk before meeting the golden stare of the hitokiri before him and proceeding, "Your orders will be coming from the fourth division branch leaders. Katsura Matsuyo in particular."
Kenshin stiffened and unwittingly arched a heavy eyebrow to show his suspicions to the governor.
"He's a particularly well developed young man if I do say so. I believe you two will get along fine seeing as how the both of you already have something in common. After all, he is the nephew of Katsura Kogoro."
"Mmm," Kenshin replied lost in deep thought briefly. "Is that all?"
"Yes," Yamagata said turning to a pile of papers on the corner of his desk. "But I was going to ask you if..." he cut himself short as he raised his head to find himself talking to only the lurking ghosts of the room.
Battousai was already gone.
An open window on the side of the room drew in a chilly draft from outside and the aged politician turned to evaluate it. He sighed and sat back in his chair shaking his head irritatedly. This did not seem to bode very well.
Stoically, he slid the shoji of the inn open ignoring the odd stares he received from the other occupants in the foyer of his employer's hotel. Vacancy was permitted only to those Katsura Matsuyo trusted in business and the like, so he found it unnecessary to hide his short form and the drenched, crimson stains that dotted his grayed hakama and navy gi from their inquisitive eyes. Most of them had not witnessed his arrival earlier that day and were thus shocked by his disheveled and bloody appearance.
Even if they had not known of his earlier arrival, they still recognized his signature features that carried on even through legend. His crimson tresses and the crucifix-like scar that marred his cheek gave away his identity immediately. With such knowledge dispersed throughout the crowd of men, he was left to himself to do as he pleased without intervention or stall. Everyone knew anyway...
He was as deadly as sin.
Without a word to his coworkers or even a quick glance about the room, Battousai turned into the bedroom corridor set on reaching his destination quickly. Soon his designated room was found and he hurried himself through slamming the door shut behind him before racing to the mirror and water basin in the far corner. Slowly, he leaned in to gaze at his reflection, immediately noting the flare of amber that exuded from his anger filled eyes as his hair seemed to bleed from the roots to the tips in auburn-red hues that engulfed the whole of his former fire orange locks.
So this was what it came to, he thought glancing at his heightened ponytail briefly before acknowledging the pulsating throb that refused to ebb in all three of his scars, especially the one that split from his lower lip to the crease of his chin. That night would now remain with him in every mirror until the day he died just like the day his wife died by his own hand. Glancing about his face again, he examined the short beard he had grown about the length of his lower jaw and about his mouth and chin. It was a change he decided that was for the better. It made his new life more unique from his old one at the dojo. He'd soon learn to live concedingly to it.
Numbly, he noticed the slight tremor that ran through his right hand as it helped support his weight against the table holding the basin. Being an assasin never did come that easily to him. It just seemed so hypocritical and mindless. He learned fast enough that it was, and so were the assasins. Such was life.
Such was what he'd chosen.
Next chapter:
Hear No Evil
(A/N) See, she ain't dead. I could never really kill Kaoru. Besides, this IS supposed to be a K/K/B story. In fact, they meet according to my outline in two more chapters. The ACTUAL plot of this story picks up in the next chapter... but I'm going to a veterinary studies camp thingy Sunady so I'll be gone for a week and unable to update. That's why I got at least this filler chapter in before I left.
Anywho, PLEASE REVIEW!! I love my reviewers to death and they really are the only thing that inspires me to continue.
REVIEWER RESPONSES:
-Psychotic Tanuki- innocent smile I'm not evil. What ever could you be talking about? I'm glad you liked the suspense I tried to portray in the scene. It was quite grueling to write since I didn't want to just say that she was burning in the house or draw it out so painstakingly that everyone gave up and stopped reading. I'm tellin' ya though, Tanuki, this baby has so many more curves to come. I haven't even really gotten in to it yet. I've really only begun to set the stage.
-Nicky- As you can see, she survived (I couldn't kill off the story's heroine in the first chapter now could I?). After the fire though, Kenshin did desice to return to being an assasin for the government again, but with ulterior motives ). Kaoru's in for quite a ride though.
-Luna Angel- Ahh... a death threat. Can't argue with that. I hope I've appeased you though by updating quickly and not killing her. twiddles thumbs nervously
-kouri- I'm glad you like my story. means a lot to me also that you credit my usage of darker tones and my incite on Kenshin's personality. This update's early just for you!
-Jen- Heh heh... well I wouldn't call it an angst story, but I will call it major drama and.. I didn't really... kill... Kaoru per se. Faith people, I need faith!
-u meanie (ouch)- cries she's not dead I swear! I just needed for Kenshin to believe that she was so I could properly position him in the plot. She'll be very much alive and well soon in the fic.
-Naomi-chan- Relieved to know you trust me, cuz things will get better for Himura-kun eventually. And threats are welcome as long as they're not carried through. I kinda enjoy life sometimes. laughs nervously Thanks so much for the praise it means a lot to hear such nice words given to little unknown authors like myself.