Chapter 16

Kenshin woke to the sound of movement in the camp below. He lifted his head off his folded arms and glanced at the sky. It had lightened from black to an intense, breathtaking indigo, and even the brightest stars were fading. Dawn was coming. He straightened out his arms in front of him and stretched like a cat. The back of his gi and hakama were damp with dew, but the pine needles had kept him relatively warm. He'd slept for a good five hours, and felt better for it.

He slithered forward carefully to peek over the edge of the drop into the clearing. The four men were moving around, tidying the camp. He identified each of them in the dim light: Sakurai, rolling blankets and tying them into neat bundles; Shinichiro, stretching his back and swinging his arms, warming up; Tomonaga, doing something with a stack of gear near the ashes of last night's fire; and Kobayashi, putting bridles on the three horses tethered to a tree on the south side of the clearing.

Shinichiro hadn't left them yet. A little disappointing. But there was still time. It was important that Shinichiro make the decision himself. And if not, well, Kenshin was ready to do whatever had to be done. He watched, and waited.

o-o-o

Up, step-down. Up, step-down. Up, swing-parry-slash. Shinichiro ran through his sword forms, warming up his muscles, his breath steaming a little in the chilly pre-dawn air. His movements were getting more fluid with the practice, like in the old days. And the exercise helped still the unease in the back of his mind. Up, step-down, turn-slash. Up--

Kobayashi was coming over. Shinichiro stopped and sheathed his sword, waiting silently while the older man approached.

"Yukawa. You ready?"

"Yes."

"Mm." Kobayashi nodded. "Since you're a little out of practice, we'll take the guards. You go after the driver."

"Go after..." Shinichiro hesitated, suddenly uneasy again.

"Of course. No witnesses, and we can't take prisoners." Kobayashi turned and started back toward where Sakurai was burying the ashes of their fire.

Shinichiro watched his retreating back, the air ringing slightly in his ears. "Kitano Kei," he said to himself.

Kobayashi stopped and glanced back. "What was that?" His voice was casual.

"Kitano Kei," Shinichiro repeated. "The driver. That's his name."

Kobayashi turned back to face him, his eyes narrowing. "What are you trying to say? That you know him?"

"I buy salted fish from his sister. His cousin works in my wife's best friend's restaurant."

Kobayashi's expression had hardened. "No witnesses," he repeated forcefully. "And we can't take prisoners."

"He's not a fighter," Shinichiro insisted, his voice rising. "He'll be unarmed. How can I just kill him?"

The growing argument had attracted the attention of the other two. Tomonaga wandered over, his arms folded casually but his sharp eyes watchful. Sakurai had straightened up, curious, brushing wood ashes off his hands.

Kobayashi shook his head, exasperated. "Are you going to risk the Satsuma uprising for this? He's nobody! Compared to saving this country, what's the life of one peasant?"

Shinichiro gaped at him. "He's not 'nobody'! Nobody is 'nobody'! Himura was right, this is banditry, plain and simple!"

"You've gone soft, living among the common folk."

"No, you've gone crazy. This is no service to the country." Shinichiro turned angrily and snatched up his jacket from the ground. "I won't be a part of this."

"Yukawa." Kobayashi's voice was cold, his round face deadly calm. Shinichiro couldn't help but stop and listen to him. "You must choose where lies your own duty. But know this. If you are not with us, then you are our enemy." He held Shinichiro's eyes. "No prisoners. No witnesses."

o-o-o

Kenshin tensed, watching the conflict unfolding in the clearing below. He'd been immensely relieved when Shinichiro had come around at last, but it looked as if Kobayashi wasn't going to let him go so easily. He started edging back from the drop, getting his knees under him so he could jump if he had to.

Shinichiro and Kobayashi held each other's eyes. The silence lengthened. Sakurai and Tomonaga had drifted in closer, the tension obvious in their movements. One of the horses snorted and stamped its hoof. Sakurai glanced at the lightening sky, then back to Kobayashi, his mouth opening as if about to say something.

Kobayashi spoke suddenly. "No more time. Choose now."

Shinichiro didn't flinch. "Like I said," he replied, matching Kobayashi's tone. "I won't be a part of this."

The tension in the air evaporated. Sakurai and Tomonaga had suddenly relaxed, stepping back from the other two as Kobayashi turned aside and casually wandered a few paces farther from Shinichiro. Kenshin let out the breath he'd been holding and started to relax as well, reacting to the body language of the samurai even as the alarm bells went off in the rational part of his mind.

Kobayashi had stopped, turning back to face Shinichiro across the bare level earth of the clearing, but at an angle, not straight on. Shinichiro shifted his left foot backward a pace. Such a familiar stance.

Kenshin froze as the adrenaline shot through his body, making his fingers ache and slowing time to a crawl. They were going to fight each other. 'No prisoners, no witnesses,' Kobayashi had said. They had relaxed not because the conflict was over, but because the decision had been made.

Shinichiro put his hand on the hilt of his sword, shifting his weight backwards almost imperceptibly.

Kenshin leapt.

"YAMERO!!" he yelled with all his breath as he came down lightly on his toes in the middle of the clearing, fifteen vertical feet below and nearly as far horizontally.

Shinichiro jumped back, incredulous. "Himura?!"

Kenshin whirled to face Kobayashi. "Stop it! Just stop it and go home! All of you!" he shouted, turning to include Sakurai and Tomonaga.

Tomonaga was starting forward, anger lighting in his severe face, his hand going to his sword. "You were followed, Yukawa," he snarled.

"No! I made sure--"

Kobayashi held up a hand, silencing them. He considered Kenshin impassively. "Yukawa," he said, in a conversational tone. "Do you know this person?"

"I, uh..." Shinichiro stammered, the incongruity killing the drama. "Yeah," he finished lamely. "He's Himura Battousai, the hitokiri."

Kobayashi looked Kenshin up and down. Mostly down. Kenshin shifted a little from foot to foot, trying to keep from looking sheepish under the cold scrutiny of those hooded eyes.

"Pull the other one," Kobayashi said, "it's got bells on." He turned away dismissively. Sakurai snorted, suppressing a laugh. Kobayashi glanced over at him. "Sakurai. Take him over there while we finish this."

Sakurai was trying not to smile, his expressive eyes full of amusement. He gave a quick nod and loped over, reaching for Kenshin's arm.

Kenshin twisted his shoulders slightly, avoiding Sakurai's grip. He kept his eyes on Kobayashi. "No. Let Shinichiro go. If you have to fight someone, fight me."

Kobayashi seethed.

Shinichiro cut in to the silence, speaking fast in an undertone. "Get out of here, Himura, this is my fight."

Kenshin twitched away as Sakurai tried to grab him again, keeping his eyes on Kobayashi. "No," he hissed back. "They'll kill you and you know it. Leave now while you can."

Kobayashi swore. "We don't have time for this. Sakurai, just kill him so we can get on with it."

Sakurai looked to Kobayashi in surprise, then nodded resolutely. He stepped back a few paces and faced Kenshin carefully. Kobayashi and Shinichiro had both backed off a little, giving him room to maneuver.

Kenshin watched Sakurai calmly, his eyes round and a little disappointed. The samurai was young, a little younger even than Kenshin himself. If he'd fought in the revolution at all, it could only have been at the very end. Sakurai was young enough still to choose the course of his life. In this Meiji era, why had he chosen the futureless life of a swordsman?

Sakurai drew his sword and saluted Kenshin with it, then spoke, his words formal and polite. "Who are you really? Will you tell me your name and the name of your clan before you die?"

Kenshin smiled at the anachronistic formula. "I'm nobody important, that I am. Just a rurouni." Time to get this over with. He drew his own sword.

"Reverse-bladed...?" Sakurai's face clouded with dismay. "What is this? Is this a joke?" He sounded hurt, as if something important had been taken from him. He glanced toward Kobayashi.

"Get on with it!" Kobayashi hissed. "We have no time!" Dawn was coming fast. The sky above the mountains to the east had turned that indistinct color somewhere between green and pink.

Sakurai took a deep breath and turned back to Kenshin. "Prepare yourself," he said, and attacked.