Chapter 14

Eri startled as Kenshin stumbled and fell to his knees, catching himself on his sword stuck tip-first into the ground. She sprung halfway to her feet, cracking and rustling the twigs of the thicket she'd been hiding in at the side of the road.

"Please don't follow me any further, Eri-dono," Kenshin said, without looking up. He levered himself to his feet and sheathed his sword with a quick motion.

Eri stood up, straightening her disheveled kimono, one sleeve swinging a little with the reassuring weight of her dagger. She brushed twigs from her hair. "You knew I was here."

Kenshin glanced back at her. He looked tired and shaky, his face pale in the moonlight. His magenta gi was slashed open on the right side and there was blood on the skin underneath. "To tell the truth, I only noticed you were there when I drew my sword."

Ah. She'd been afraid she'd given herself away at that point. "I thought Shinichiro was going to kill you."

Kenshin shook his head, absently pressing his left hand across the cut over his ribs. "No need to worry, Eri-dono." He trailed off, glancing distractedly up the road again. "I should be going, that I should. Please expect Shinichiro back home by morning." He gave her a brief watery smile and started off.

"Wait--" She climbed out of the bushes and onto the road.

Kenshin looked back over his shoulder, through his bangs. "Oro?"

"You're bleeding. At least let me bandage that."

Kenshin stopped, looking down at the blood slicking his left palm and fingers as if he hadn't noticed it until now.

"Come on, you've got time. Nothing's going to happen before dawn, right?" She walked up to him and grasped his left elbow. "Our house is just a few blocks from here." She tugged him along with her. He staggered in her wake, off-balance.

"Oro-- Eri-dono-- you're hurting me, that you are..." His eyes had gone wide, but more with surprise than with pain.

She stopped and steadied him. "Okay. I won't drag you..." He looked relieved. "...if you come along quietly." She smiled impishly behind her hand and hurried off again down the road, a bewildered Kenshin in tow.

o-o-o

Eri stopped to open her door, letting go of Kenshin's arm. He swayed a little, breathing fast, with a dazed look in his eyes. She hoped he wasn't going into shock. She'd probably dragged him along too fast back there. She'd been more than a little hysterical. She got the door open and led Kenshin inside.

The large front room of her house doubled as her shop. A few finished kimonos were racked near the entrance, with others in various stages of construction scattered around the room. She kicked off her clogs and led Kenshin over to the low table she used for cutting fabric.

"Here, have a seat and rest a little." He lowered himself carefully onto his knees on the cushion she indicated. She handed him a clean piece of scrap cloth. "Use this to stop the bleeding. I'm going to boil some water. I'll be right back."

Eri hurried into the kitchen and lit the stove, filling a kettle and putting it on to boil. It would take several minutes for the water to heat up. She took the dagger out from her kimono sleeve and looked at it. She didn't expect any danger from Kenshin, but he had been a hitokiri, and there were still the samurai to worry about. She slipped it back into her sleeve. Best to stay prepared. She washed her hands carefully and then headed back to the front room.

Kenshin looked up when she re-entered the room. He looked a little better, steadier and less dazed. Good.

"How is it?" she asked, as she rummaged in a cupboard for the first-aid kit.

"Not too bad. It's fairly shallow, that it is. I think it's stopped bleeding." He lifted the cloth carefully from his side and peeked under it. "Mostly." He pressed it back firmly against his ribs.

Eri swept an armload of cut fabric off the table and piled it on top of some bolts of cloth lying on the tatami floor nearby. She opened up the first-aid kit, laying out a roll of bandages. Then she grabbed some bits of gauze and headed back to the kitchen.

The kettle was boiling. Eri dropped the gauze into a shallow bowl and poured boiling water onto it. It would take a little while to cool down enough to use. She filled a teapot while she was at it.

Kenshin was looking appreciatively around the room when she got back. "The clothing you make is very nice, Eri-dono," he said lightly, looking up at her with a smile.

He must be feeling better. Maybe he wasn't so badly hurt after all. He had taken off his scarf and laid his sword on the floor next to him.

She plonked the steaming bowl of water onto the table and sat down. "No, no, I'm really just a beginner," she said modestly. She checked the temperature of the water. Just about ready. "Let's get started, then."

Kenshin shrugged out of his gi, switching hands several times to keep the pressure on his cut while he got his arms out of the sleeves. Then he peeled the cloth back carefully and laid it on the table.

The cut was long, but it didn't look too deep, except in a couple of places where it ran over his ribs. It was still oozing blood in those spots. Eri squeezed hot water from a piece of gauze and dabbed at the cut.

"Ow!" Kenshin flinched.

"Hold still," Eri murmured. "You can take it." Kenshin tensed, looking away as she cleaned the cut. Best to do this as thoroughly as possible, to reduce the risk of infection.

"Hm. This will need a few stitches." She started to get up.

Kenshin laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. "No. Not now. Just bandage it, if you don't mind."

"But-"

"I'll take care of it afterwards, that I will." He smiled at her reassuringly.

She was suddenly worried. "Afterwards?" she said. "You think you'll pull them out, don't you." She sighed and shook her head. "All right then."

She wiped away the drying blood that had run down Kenshin's side, then fished out a tin of ointment from the first-aid kit and started dabbing it methodically onto the cut, starting at one end. Kenshin flinched again, wincing.

"I know, it stings," she said soothingly. "But this'll help it heal faster." She got to the other end of the cut. "There, I'm done." Kenshin let out the breath he'd been holding. She covered the cut quickly with a large piece of gauze. "Hold this in place for me." Then she picked up a roll of bandages from the table and started wrapping them around Kenshin's ribcage.

"You're very good at this," Kenshin commented appreciatively.

Eri shrugged. "I'm a samurai's wife." She finished wrapping and tied off the bandage, then sat back. Kenshin put his gi back on, moving carefully.

Eri got up. "I have some tea ready. Will you stay a little while?" She started towards the kitchen.

"Eri-dono.... How did you know that nothing was going to happen before dawn?" Kenshin was watching her carefully, his eyes suddenly serious.

She stopped. "Oh. That. While you were in the inn, I ran over to Hideki's to drop off some kimonos for the cart that's leaving tomorrow morning up the east road. I get orders sometimes from the mountain villages. He mentioned that a couple of guys would be riding with it as guards. I figured it out on the walk back here." She paused, meeting his eyes. "It's the tax money."

o-o-o

Eri sipped at her tea. Kenshin had recounted to her what he'd heard in the inn earlier in the evening. It all fit together. Samurai existed to serve, and thus naturally they had always been supported by those whom they served -- the regional lords or the shogunate itself, funded in turn by tax revenue. That had largely ended with the start of the Meiji era, although a few districts even now maintained their samurai, if only to keep them from starting rebellions. She nibbled at one of the rice balls she'd brought out from the kitchen and waited for Kenshin to continue.

"There's one more thing I don't understand," he was saying, his voice slow and uncertain. "When I met Shinichiro on the road just now, he said some things about history. About certain... events around the time of the revolution. I think it's important that I understand it, but I don't." He looked at her with the request in his eyes.

Eri nodded and set down her tea. This was something that she found difficult. "The revolution changed everything," she said. "For all of us. Of course, you know that. But to Shinichiro..." She trailed off. "I don't know how to explain it. He sees it as if... as if time ended then. As if it was the end of history, and what's happened in the years since then isn't really real in the same way as what happened before."

Kenshin made a small frown, confused. "History. I still don't..." He looked aside for a moment, thinking, then met her eyes with an intensity that surprised her. "The revolution didn't really change things. Not that much, not as much as was hoped. We fought for a world of peace. But the weak are still made to suffer by the powerful." He trailed off, looking down, and swirled the tea around in his cup. He looked up again with a sad smile. "Still, I hope that things are a little better than they were, that I do."

Eri was taken aback. What was he talking about? A world of peace? "No, you're wrong." She shook her head, her voice sharp. "Of course the revolution changed things. It changed everything. This country is practically unrecognizeable now, compared to how it was. When the Black Ships came..." She paused, trying to frame her argument. "You talked about the weak and the powerful. The revolution was supposed to make us strong, united, so we could defend against the foreign powers. But look what we've done to ourselves! The Black Ships don't even have to land now; we've destroyed ourselves from the inside!"

Kenshin was watching her apprehensively. He almost looked intimidated. "I-- I'm sorry, I don't know very much about history."

Could he be that ignorant? "You do know about the Black Ships, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. But that's not why we fought for the revolution."

Eri took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unclenching her hands. Don't get angry, she told herself. "All right," she said. "Don't worry about that part." Who knew what motivated a hitokiri? "As for Shinichiro, like I said, he seems to think that the real history was ended by the revolution. That what's happened since has just been random, and therefore it doesn't matter."

"Oh!" Kenshin's face had lit up with a sudden realization.

"What? Do you-"

"Yes, I think so. He's lost his cause, that he has. The cause that he fought for before. And now, he thinks he's found a new one." Kenshin frowned. "This could be bad."

Eri hadn't thought of it like that before. It made a kind of sense, but was too simplistic to be the whole story. She too could see the massive change that had taken place in the course of history. Unlike Shinichiro, though, she didn't attribute it to a single event. Or to a single person. She looked uneasily back at Kenshin. The red hair, the cross-shaped scar, the sword lying on the floor next to him, within easy reach. And incongruously, the big child-like blue-violet eyes, and the reversed blade. Why?

"Himura-san..."

Kenshin looked up from his musing. "Yes?"

She had to know. "Why do you carry a reverse-blade sword?"

"With a sakabatou, I can protect the people around me, without killing anyone." He smiled at her earnestly. "This is why I wander from place to place. It's... It's a small and unworthy attempt to pay back for all the people who sacrificed for the revolution." His smile had become sad.

All the people who sacrificed for the revolution.... Sudden irrational rage flooded Eri's mind. How dare he! Her fingers curled around the handle of the dagger in her sleeve, knuckles whitening. "Is this why you're doing this?" she hissed, her voice a deadly whisper. "Is this why you're helping us? We fallen samurai?"

Kenshin startled, looking off-balance and alarmed. Have I misunderstood, Eri wondered? "No, no," he was saying, hands up to calm her, or fend her off. "I meant no offense. I meant, for all the people who died." He looked to the side a little. "And all the people who were killed, by the hitokiri Battousai." There was pain in his voice.

"Oh." Eri unclenched her hands. But now she was confused. Why the pain? His revolution had succeeded, he'd even made his name into a legend. "To pay back? I don't understand. You killed for the revolution. If you did your duty, then the honor is yours. If you failed your duty, then you should kill yourself and return the honor to your clan."

Kenshin recoiled as if she had slapped him. "What...?" he whispered, his eyes widening with shock. "Where's the honor in killing?" He was almost shouting, losing control of his emotions. "Others OR myself? If by this life I can protect just one person, I'll do it, that I will!"

He turned away suddenly, hiding his face behind his hair. His hands clenched the edge of the cushion. He was silent for some time, getting his breathing back under control.

When he spoke, his voice was soft and hoarse. "Sumimasen. I should go." He got stiffly to his feet, keeping his eyes hidden, and picked up his sword.

"Himura-san, wait--"

He glanced at her, then quickly aside again, but she'd seen that his eyes were wet.

What could she say? She'd hurt him, without even understanding how. "Take these with you, at least." She wrapped the rest of the rice balls in a scrap of cloth and handed them to Kenshin.

"Arigatou, Eri-dono." He turned to go.

Eri bit her lip. Kenshin slid open the door. "Himura-san... Thank you. Thank you for doing this. And, be careful." Don't get killed, she wanted to say.

He'd stopped on the threshold while she spoke. He didn't look back, but from the side she could see him smile a little, without emotion. He stepped out into the night and the door rattled shut behind him.

Eri stood for a long time, gazing at the closed door. Something had crystallized inside her. Until she had spelled it out for Kenshin, she had not quite realized how little her worldview had changed since the end of the Bakumatsu. Truly, Himura-san is no samurai, she thought. They were a world apart.

Earlier, when she had talked to him in Akane's house, he had said it was his responsibility, that Shinichiro would not be doing this now if he had never seen him. She had been secretly glad then that he took the responsibility, since it bound him to help her. And it was true, as far as it went: it was only after that disastrous night at the Tobes' that Shinichiro had joined with Kobayashi's group. But more than that, it was her own responsibility. It was she who had suggested they go for dinner at the Tobes', she who had raised Kenshin's name, hoping that Shinichiro would recognize him from the past.

She may have sent Shinichiro to his death. But more likely, she had sent Shinichiro to his dishonor, and Kenshin to his death. She'd seen how Shinichiro had cut him, even though her husband had only just now started swinging his sword again after these eight long years. And now, wounded already, against three samurai in active practise?

She fingered the handle of the dagger in her sleeve. She was samurai too. And she knew about honor.