Reves' note: Hello hello! I apologize for the wait, I've been very busy and my computer hasn't been very cooperative…sigh. Anyhow, a big thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, I'm very grateful! :D
Usual disclaimers…yada yada yada…
Hangman's Truth
Chapter Five
Bruno Champlin
----
5 months before the hanging:
(Megumi's perspective)
It happened eight months after we had first kissed, and six months after he told me he loved me. It didn't feel too rushed, or too long awaited. It felt perfect.
I had just finished delivering a late night birth in town five months ago. Although the delivery had gone well, it had lasted a lot longer than I expected, and the streets were now pitch black. I bravely took on the darken roads, telling myself that I knew the way like the back of my hand, it that it wouldn't take more than ten minutes to reach the clinic.
Half an hour later I was still wandering the streets, and becoming increasingly alarmed. Hadn't I passed this way just a minute ago? I was hopelessly lost.
I'm not sure if it was some sort of instinct or perhaps simply pure luck, but I found myself standing on the edge of Sanosuke's doorstep. Extremely relieved and bewildered I hurriedly pushed open the door, forgetting that roosters were most likely asleep at this hour. He was snoring.
I found him sleeping on his futon with the blankets sprawled over him, his mouth slightly agape. I couldn't help smiling. I put my medicine bag in the corner on the room and stepped over various sake bottles and boxes, 'till I reached his bedside, then carefully lifted up the corner of the blanket and settled comfortably beside him. I watched him breathe. I saw his nose twitch, and his shoulders tense up as he realized that there was someone in his bed.
"Shh," I said to no one in particular. "It's just me." I smoothed the hair out of his face.
He didn't open his eyes. "Watcha doing here, kitsune?" He asked softly with a lazy grin.
"I was nearby."
"Sneaky fox slinking into people's beds," He muttered. I slapped the side of his head. "Oi, I'm not complaining. You should be nearby more often."
We lay in silence, undisturbed until—
His eyes suddenly flew open. "You walked here all by yourself?" he asked incredulously. "At this hour? You could've gotten mugged—raped!"
I must say that the idea never occurred to me. "Well I'm fine now."
"Yeah but..." He sighed and closed his eyes again. "What if…? You know…I'm just glad my fox is safe." He rested his chin on my head, and patted my hair away from his nose.
I laughed. "I'm your fox? What does that make you? My baka tori-atama?"
"I'm whatever you want me to be," he mumbled sleepily. "Rooster, bodyguard, lover, husband…"
Husband?
"Megumi," Sano whispered with a yawn. "Will you marry me?"
My breath caught in my throat. This was the single most romantic moment in my life.
"Hai."
He didn't answer; he was already fast asleep and dreaming.
----
The night of the informal proposal:
Sanosuke's perspective…while dreaming.
I dreamt I was back at my mom's friend's house, with her two little brats. I was coming back for supper when they cornered me by the river. This wasn't the first time they'd gotten bored and come after me.
"What do you want?" I yelled. I stood up taller and clenched my fists at my sides. Each time I thought that if I'd try to look like I didn't care, they leave me alone. It never worked.
"Nothin'." Said the older boy, leaning lazily against a tree. "You going back to the house?"
"Ya, what's it to you?"
"We don't want you in the house."
I didn't want to be in the house either. I only came back there to eat and sleep. This was one of those times where I was coming back for supper after staying in the woods all day.
They both took a step towards me. My back was now facing the river.
"Why don't you go find your rapist father?" The older boy smirked.
"Why don't you shut up, blondie?" I snarled.
His entire body tensed. Yes, both brothers were blond. Their father had been Dutch, and although they were not ashamed of him or his memory, they were ashamed of the blond hair and blue eyes they had inherited from him. Calling him and his brother blondie was the only possible way I could get back at them.
"What's the matter blondie?" I snarled. The older boy grabbed a rock and threw it at me. I ducked, and splashed into the river. He picked up another one. While I was distracted dodging missiles, the other guy ran up to me and gave me a hard shove. I fell in the river.
I took me at least a minute to get to the surface. After struggling for what seemed like hours to get to shore, I walked back, tired and cold, all the way to the house where supper was ready. The two brothers had just come back as well.
My ma's best friend looked at my wet clothes, the trail of water I was leaving behind me and yelled, "Get out of the house!" I ate supper on the porch. It was cold.
I could hear her asking her boys what had happened. "He fell in," they said. "And we pulled him back out again."
Even though many years have passed an' all I still remember her, crystal clear, looking at her food and saying nonchalantly:
"You should have let him die."
----
11 years and 10 months previous to the hanging:
(Sanosuke's perspective)
"Get ready to die, Rat."
He hunched up his sleeves and took one step closer, snarling. The two other boys (Isamu and Yoita, I think) rolled their eyes and leaned against the wall with their arms crossed. They were leaving me to perish.
Taro bounced on the tips of his toes and put up his fists in the style of Tai boxing: he was taking me seriously this time. I noticed his knuckles and wrists were wrapped in red tape. This guy knew what he was doing.
"Are you gonna fight, you bastard? You Sekihoutai prick—"
All those feelings of despair and hatred started swelling up again.
The background faded away: all that mattered right then was shutting Taro's ugly mouth. He took a swing at me, missed and fell forward, exposing his back to me; and all I wanted to do right there and then was pound him as hard as I could.
My fists flew at him, hitting him square on the back of the head. I don't think he saw it coming: there was a look of surprise on his face as he slowly fell to the ground and stayed there, unconscious. My knuckles felt like I'd just punched a brick wall.
Isamu and Yoita stared at me open-mouthed for what seemed like hours.
"Hey! Where the hell are those buckets?" Yelled a distant voice, "I swear, Butch is gonna explode if…"
The owner of that voice had just run into the room, pausing in mid-sentence to stare at Taro's unconscious body. He was a tall, wiry man, who looked about 30 but was probably younger. A cigarette butt rested in the corner of his crooked mouth. He took a moment to absorb the shock, ran a flat hand through his hair, and smiled hesitantly. His right eye twitched.
"So you two finally decided to gang up on Taro, huh? I don't blame ya, it's probably the only way to bring him down, plus he deserved it; acting high and mighty and all…"
Isamu didn't speak, but pointed one finger in my direction. The tall wiry man was rambling on, but stopped suddenly, as if just noticing I was there. He blandly chewed on the end of his cigarette and stared at me for a second.
"What? Who's he?"
Silence.
"You mean…him?" "He took down…Taro?"
The two boys in the shadows nodded. Great, I thought. Now they're all gonna gang up on me and beat me senseless. Maybe even kill me.
"In a fair fight?" Nod. "By himself?" Nod. "Without a weapon?" Nod.
"How long did it take?"
"Two rounds, one punch each round."
I could see the lights going on in this man's head. He grinned and twirled his cigarette butt between his index and his thumb. His right eye twitched. He ran a hand through his black greasy hair. He started bouncing on the tip of his toes.
"This is great! This can work!"
He turned to me. "How old are you, kid?"
I'm so amazed at being alive that I'm speechless.
"Hey, kid." He snapped his fingers in front of me. "How old are you?"
"Nine."
"Any parents?"
"No."
He seemed happy to hear that. "Have you got any experience? Fought before?"
"I…In the war…"
"That's nice," he said nonchalantly. "What group?"
"Sekihoutai."
His eyes light up again. "You fucking serious?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "This is great! I love it. The boss will love it. The crowd will love it. Oh man this is going to be good…"
He rambled off again, chewing his cigarette and running his fingers through his hair every couple minutes. More twitching. I still had no idea what was going on.
He pointed his cigarette butt in the direction of Isamu and Yoita. "Hey you two!" he barked. "Get Taro into the dressing room, will ya? Splash some cold water on 'im or something. Wake him up."
"So what's your name, kid?"
"Sagara Sanosuke."
He clapped a steady hand on my shoulder. He probably noticed how dirty my clothes were, and how skinny I looked. "I got a paying job to offer you, kid. A place to stay, and some food for your belly. We could use a kid like you."
It wasn't the first time I'd heard that.
I didn't have time to respond: the hand on my shoulder steered me away from the boys and out the gym door. We turned the corner and started walking down a long, cold, hallway with doors every two feet on either side. The air became colder as we walked deeper into the warehouse, and all I could hear was the sounds of our feet slapping the cold pavement. The doors had names carved into them; they were dressing rooms.
"We're always looking for new faces," the guy was saying. "In this business, you never know who's gonna live to see the next year."
Curiosity got the best of me. I found my voice.
"What business?"
He looked at me strangely.
"The street fighting business of course."
We reached the end of the hallway. Off to one side stood an oak door, with a brass doorknob and knocker. I was suddenly really afraid of what I would find behind it.
"Let me introduce you to the boss," said the tall man who twitched.
"He'll be more than happy to meet you."
I wish I could've said the same.
----
The day of the hanging:
(Sanosuke's perspective)
"Ahem."
The same fucking police officer that fucking torched my favourite shirt stood up on the platform in front of me. He cleared his throat.
He now held a document in his hands stamped with the Meiji government seal. Another police officer stood behind him, holding an umbrella. It was still pouring rain.
The large crowd that had gathered before had mostly scattered; the few who were left huddled underneath umbrellas and overhanging shop roofs. Newly formed mud puddles decorated the streets in front of me. What a day to die.
Now that the crowd had scattered, I could clearly see one man, dressed in black, surrounded with what looked like body guards. His brown hair stuck out from under his western-style hat, which hid his eyes.
"Ahem," said the police officer for a second time. "Here stands Sagara Sanosuke, formerly known as Zanza, herby convicted of crimes punishable by death."
"Convicted of assault, theft, eat-and-run, assault of a man in uniform, resisting arrest, disturbing the peace, a second charge of eat-and-run…"
That was one long list. I swear; a full five minutes passed before that man took a breath. Wait a second, did he say eat-and-run? Tae! I thought we were friends! I grinned to myself as the man finished off the list.
"And finally a 27th charge of eat-and-run, a 31st charge of assault, and two accounts of first degree murder…"
He cleared his throat and paused for effect. I stopped smiling.
"The cold blooded murder of popular business men Takeda Kanryu…"
"And Bruno Champlin."
----
11 years and 10 months previous to the hanging:
(Sanosuke's perspective)
The twitchy guy ran a hand through his greasy hair and clapped another one on my shoulder.
"This, kid, is Bruno Champlain's office. He's the leader. The alpha male. The head honcho. Now that you've got yourself into this mess—" He looked back over his shoulder in the direction of Taro's unconscious body, "the only way you're gonna get out of it alive is to stay in the business. If Champlin likes you—" He gave me the up and down look, "which I'm not saying he will, you'll be under his protection. If not, well when Taro comes to he's gonna be pissed out of his mind, and there'll be nothing to stop him from beating the shit of off you and leaving you to die in a back alley somewhere. Now me…I'm just an honest guy looking to help out a fellow here. If I introduce you to the boss behind this door, and he likes you, then you don't die, you'll get a job and you'll be happy. And then in turn I'll be happy when I get a cut out of your wages each month."
I just stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. This was all moving way too fast.
"Just a small cut," he protested. "40%."
"Have we got ourselves a deal?" He grabbed my hand and shook it. "Good. Now remember, don't talk to the boss unless spoken too, don't look directly into his eyes and for God's sake don't talk back or you'll be dead before you can blink. I hear he keeps close to 30 firearms in his desk, just in case. The guys got a severe case of paranoia if you ask me." He said, a little too loud.
"Entre, Twitch." Echoed a booming voice from inside the room. 'Twitch' bit his lip and raked one hand vigorously through his hair, and I could hear him cussing under his breath. With a shaky hand he reached forward and grabbed the brass door handle.
Champlin was a giant to me. He sat towering behind a desk loaded with papers and checks, which threatened to fall at any second. The room was full of foreign objects I'd never seen before in my life; it even smelled foreign. The room was badly lit, and the ceiling was clouded in smoke. One single smoking cigar stuck out between Champlain's chubby fingers. His fat body quivered slightly in his plush red armchair as he turned and stabbed a finger at Twitch and me.
"Assoyez-vous," he boomed. "Sit down."
There was a black leather couch off to one side. We sat.
"So you've brought me another errand-boy, eh Twitch? What's his name, I'll write up a contract right now—" He fumbled in his pile of papers and took a plume out from his drawer. His speech was thick with french and smoke.
"Actually, Champlin—" Champlin looked up sharply. "S-sir. I was thinking of signing him as an apprentice fighter," Twitch continued.
A long uncomfortable silence passed. Champlin took a long drag on his cigar and puffed a couple of smoke rings.
"Don't waste my time, Twitch. Granted, I let my son apprentice as a fighter even though he's only thirteen, but that doesn't imply I want to sign every boy that comes my way. I can't believe you even came to me for this! This is a business, Twitch, and I'm not going to hire every boy you see just so you can fill your pockets some more, espece de cochon." Champlin spat into his ashtray and turned away, but Twitch refused to give up.
"Why would you say you let your son apprentice, sir?"
Champlin looked slightly confused as to how that question related to the subject.
"Why, Taro is a very gifted fighter. It was a business move, plain and simple. Rien de special."
Wait a sec, I knocked out the boss's kid? My eyes got really wide, and I held my breath. Shit this can't be good.
Twitch smiled and took his stub of a cigarette out of his mouth.
"Sanosuke here knocked Taro out in a fair fight. Twice. The first time he broke Taro's nose, the second he knocked him out for good. The two errand boys saw it happen."
He put the cigarette stub back in his mouth. Champlin glared.
"Menteur. You lie." He glanced at me. "How old is that boy?"
"Nine." Twitch couldn't stop smiling.
Champlin pounded his fist on his desk. "If you are lying to me Twitch, I swear…"
Twitch continued smiling. "He also fought with the Sekihoutai."
Defeated, Champlin slumped back into this red armchair. He stared at me for what seemed like a very long time. I felt like I was being examined under a magnifying glass. "A bit of an angle, I see," he muttered to himself. "I like it." Finally he smiled, proudly displaying his gold teeth.
"You're in kid. You'll start training tomorrow morning. You better earn me money, you hear?"
I figured he wanted me to nod, so I did.
Champlin whipped out a plume and paper once more. After scribbling a few notes here and there, he handed it to me.
"Sign your name by the X," he said. Clumsily I began to write my name slowly and carefully, like captain Sagara had taught me. I handed it back to Champlin. I noticed his hands looked much older than he did; they were wrinkled and sun-spotted.
After chatting for a bit, Twitch said he'd show me where I was gonna be sleeping that night. But just before I left, I heard Champlin call my name.
"Sanosuke…" He said slowly. "I just want to let you know…That I carry close to twenty firearms under my desk, for the purpose of shooting down those who don't know their place…And if you ever lay a finger on my son again…" He paused.
"Bonne nuit, Sanosuke. Stay out of trouble."
I closed the door.
----
French glossary:
Assoyez-vous: sit down
Espece de cochon: you pig. The equivalent to: "you greedy bastard."
Rien de special: Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.
Menteur: liar
Bonne nuit: good night
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Reves' other note: thank you so much for reading! See you next chapter! (hopefully!) bye!
Reves' other other note: a huge thank you goes to: FFX2player, (that was a big compliment Oo thanks!:D ) rk-kitty0149, (your stories are awesome) Meg2, (I'll send you an email to clear things up a bit! ) None, (thanks for your input! I'm still deciding.) and mushi-azn (thanks for everything! I love your emails! And here's the spare Sano shirt I promised so long ago…:D certified Sano goodness.)
