Author's Notes: hello, hello. ah, it has been almost more than two months...i think. i lose track quite easily, mind you. ho ho, sorry to keep you waiting, but i've been doing other things besides working on the next chapter. for example, i have been editing/rewriting previous chapters to get them exactly how i want them! so, right after this fic is finished (which i hope is soon...it's becoming quite long...), i will re-upload (is that a word?) previous chapters, and i hope old readers will find them better! not that i know where all the readers went...but yes, thank you to those who have reviewed, and i hope you enjoy this chapter! please review!
chap. 14 - betrayal
"You are the most insensitive, rude, inconsiderate, unsympathetic, and beyond-bad-timing prat," Megumi retorted through clenched teeth, glaring at Yahiko through slitted eyes.
Yahiko backed up as Megumi advanced on him, with Sano laughing in the back, "That's a hell of a lot of words to describe Yahiko all in one sentence..."
Yahiko found that he could not back up any further, and snorted, "Well, it's true."
"No matter how true it is, you should learn to keep it to yourself," Megumi responded, still fuming.
"Want me to take care of him?" Sano asked eagerly, pounding his right fist into his left hand.
Yahiko's eyes widened, and Megumi laughed as Sano added under his breath, "I hate kids..."
Megumi smiled at this and kidded, "Oh, so does that mean you don't want kids?"
"Of course I want kids..." Sano growled as he swept Megumi into his arms, with Yahiko choking in the background.
"Get a room..."
The pair ignored Yahiko as Megumi broke free, giggling all the while as she ran out the doors, yelping, "Rapist!"
Sano stared at Megumi in disbelief as she tore down the streets, villagers eying her as she ran past. Sano swore he could make out fox ears and a tail as she turned around and stuck out her tongue. Hey, they didn't call her Fox for nothin'.
"Come on kid," Sano commanded as he followed Megumi out the door.
"Where we goin'?" Yahiko asked, after removing his hands from his eyes.
"Where else?! We're gonna find Aoshi and Kenshin!" Sano shouted, smirking at Yahiko's oblivious expression.
Sano almost felt guilty at joking around at a time like this, with everything on the brink of falling off the edge. And as the trio ran further and longer on in search of Aoshi, Kenshin, or Misao, the grim atmosphere thickened, their faces set and unfaltering with determination as they stumbled on...
The wind held still, not a sound able to be heard in the echoey silence that eerily crept into the atmosphere. Not a leaf rustled in the nonexistant wind, and not a ripple disturbed the glossy surface of the cold, grey water beneath the still bridge. The earth held its hushed breath, anticipating the next move from either occupants of the Togetsukyo Bridge.
It was Aoshi that moved first, penetrating the stillness, placing foot in front of the other, making his way slowly towards the center of the bridge, its boards noisily creaking, its sound vibrating through the air. His blank eyes bored into Kenshin's, ceremoniously removing his trenchcoat in one fluid motion, tossing it onto one of the posts of the bridge. Its sleeves and cuffs ruffled as it hit the top of the pole, waiting to be retrieved after the long anticipated battle between swordsmen. Not one, but two Kodachi hung from Aoshi's belt, swaying with every movement of the former leader of the Oniwa Bansu.
Kenshin watched this act monotonously, calculating his plan and words before he was to respond. And yet, deep in the dwelves of his mind, Kenshin knew what Aoshi wanted, but he had yet to be sure. Cautiously, Kenshin stepped forward, coming within feet of Aoshi, not in a swords stance, but merely a relaxed, careful position that would not give Aoshi any rash reason to attack.
His voice rang clear and succinct as he spoke, "What is the meaning of this Aoshi?"
Aoshi snorted, slightly amused at the naive question that Kenshin had uttered, "To prove who truly is the strongest. Now fight."
Aoshi unsheathed one of his Kodachi, flicking it within inches of Kenshin's face, his face entirely expressionless, but yet one could easily read his emotions through his empty, black eyes...
His eyes fluttered open as he left sleep. Through the paper screen, he could make out the darkness of the non-awakening morning. The sun had not risen yet; in fact, it would be hours before it would.
Sighing from exhaustion, Wolf turned on his side, to find the futon next to him empty, its covers carelessly tossed aside. Shouri...
His eyes widened, and hurridly, he swept out of the room, not bothering to shut the fusuma as he scurried to where he assumed his brother was.
Not now...it's happening too fast... Wolf's thought were plagued with the possibilities that would have awoken his brother, his miniature feet pounding on the wooden planks of the outdoor walkway. Careful not to make any blatant noise, he crept around the corner, hiding in the crevice below the wooden boards, listening intently to the conversation among the samurai of the long forgotten Choshu Clan.
A single candle flared in the room, flinging shadows among the corners and illuminating the surfaces of faces and swords. The faces of the room were weary and bleak, plainly tired and worn-out, their expressions like those of a stubborn, bleeding tiger, its desire to keep on fighting burning in its eyes, and only within its eyes. But perhaps their purpose was that worthy of revere, worthy of commitment, for although tiredness clearly eminated from their figures, there was a sense of stark determination.
"Western civilizations have swarmed Japan...taking it by full force, dragging the government with it," a strong voice stated, its alto tone vibrating in the air as he paused, allowing it to sink in before continuing, "The Meiji, they tell us, is a full reform, comprised of people that will bring what is desired to all...we samurai have little purpose in a time of peace, and yet we continue to live on...but even if our time to fight has halted...the hunger, the need to fight dwells in our heart...our soul...our being..."
"What is your point, Ieshige?" a curt voice interjected, its tone impatient and wry, apparently unphased by the eulogy that left Ieshige's lips.
"I am saying, Gensou...that our plans...to go through with them...would be folly...." Ieshige's voice was hoarse, apparently a lot of thought had come into his words before being spoken, "...that even if it seems it is impossible to change...it is inevitable. Perhaps we are just living on the sliver of want that the Clan had begun in the early years of the Bakumatsu. We are brooding in a Clan that exists no longer... That although it is difficult to do so...we shouldn't...these plans will not work. In the long run or now." Ieshige finished on a downbeat, and did not look up to see the reactions of his fellows, closing eyes to what seemed like a silent prayer.
A sword sang as it left its sheath and vibrated ferociously as it contacted with flesh. Blood lined its blade and mad eyes glinted in its surface as the man called Gensou swiftly beheaded whatever sort of leader Ieshige was, for the good or bad...
Blood spattered the wooden floorboards, seeping through the cracks, and a spotted line of blood appeared on the paper door as Gensou flicked the blood off of his sword, a small gasp leaving Wolf's mouth as he watched the shadows behind the door move.
Facing the small crowd before him, Gensou snorted, "That's a load of shit. I expect nothing less from the cousin of Iizuka...the traitor." He smirked as he spat impatiently, "Well, with that burden off of us, the plans go on as originially said." Gensou glanced around him before his eyes grew wide in anger and shouted, "Well?! Get a move on, idiots! Or do I have more to deal with...?" He smirked as his hand started to reach for his sword, watching as the men glared at him in the utmost contempt, but followed as he said as they filed out of the room. They knew who and when to pick their fights.
One of them, barely still a boy, paused, staring at the fallen body.
"Leave him," Gensou commanded, shutting the paper door behind the boy.
Wolf peeked his head above the floorboards, whispering quietly, "Psk...Shouri...PSK...SHOURI...."
The boy, who had begun to walk down the walkway, sighed as he paused and jumped down to join his brother below the floor, "What is it, Wolf?"
"Wus happenin' Shouri? I's heard a murder...you's aren't goin' anywhere, is you?" Wolf's voice grew more frantic as his ramble grew.
Shouri's face was much like his mother's, the Japanese half of him much more evident than that of his American heritage, and he tugged on his small ponytail out of habit before his thin lips moved to respond, "...listen Wolf...you're too young..."
"I's six!" Wolf cried in protest.
"SHH...yes, but it's still not old enough to -"
"You isn't old enough neither! Fifteen's th' age for's a proper samurai. You's only twelve." Wolf responded.
Shouri sighed, and continued tiredly, "Yes Wolf, I'm only twelve, but the Clan needs as many people has it can muster, and they said that I've got enough skill -"
"You's won't come back!" Wolf cried hurridly, "I's dun want to loose you, Shouri! Lemme come with's you! I's look after you!"
Shouri smiled at his brother's determination, but frowned as he reprimanded, "It's too dangerous. You're pretty good with swordsmanship right now, but it's no where near good enough. The Mito Clan won't go down so easily...and I will come back...I promise."
Wolf sat on this thought for a moment before shaking his head ferociously, "Dun go...I's think that Ieshige's right..."
Shouri's face truly reflected sadness and almost regret before saying firmly, "No. Gensou's right. Ieshige probably just had plans to work against the Clan, just like his cousin did. I've heard those stories are true, but we have definitely got to do something. Because if we don't, then we'll have one hell of a crappy government...." Shouri's voice trailed off before he regained it, whispering in a small voice, "...they say I don't understand. They say I don't understand what I'm fighting for," his voice grew stronger as he continued, "But I'll show them that I know exactly what I'm fighting for. I'll show them that a boy can make a difference in this shitty world."
Wolf stared at his brother in disbelief as Shouri stood, storming away, the fighter's spirit in him flaming like the fires that would soon engulf every major governmental monument in Japan...
Shouri...it means Victory....but will there's be victory...?
Kenshin did not flinch as he stared at the sharpened blade of Aoshi's Kodachi, "No."
Aoshi's face morphed into a sort of disgust, almost disappointed that his battle could not come sooner...but yet, Aoshi had time...Shinomori had waited long...he could wait longer...
"No, I will not fight you. Although perhaps I would have guessed that this fight was inevitable...I do not think it is necessary, that I do not," Kenshin elaborated, speaking his words in a fine, sturdy tone, making his point clear and precise, "Twice we have fought, do you not remember? Twice our swords have crossed -"
"And twice I had failed to prove my point, to prove who truly is the strongest," Aoshi interjected, "Now cut the shit and fight...or perhaps you will need a powerful means of persuasion." Aoshi smirked, branishing his Kodachi and swiftly setting its blade against Kenshin's neck before cutting through the fine layer of flesh, tearing the skin and allowing a hairline of a cut to appear, a fine drop of blood staining a thin path down Kenshin's neck.
Aoshi gradually withdrew his sword, holding it before him, gazing at its sheen surface before disappearing from Kenshin's direct line of view and reappearing in seemingly every direction, swaying, floating from one place to the next.
The Kaiten Kenbu... The name of the attack unique to Aoshi Shinomori crept into Kenshin's mind as he recollected the time when so long ago, Aoshi had used this technique. But Kenshin had little time to reminiscence, for he knew that the attack came swift..but he also had an advantage.
Seconds later, Kenshin found himself face-to-face with the former leader, nothing more than a black look in his eyes; the Kodachi's blade grasped in both of Kenshin's bleeding hands, the blood slowly dripping onto the wooden boards.
"You forget what had happened during those two fights, Aoshi," Kenshin spoke, holding his position as he tightened his grip on the sword's blade as Aoshi attempted to pull out of his hold. However, Kenshin had no time to speak further, as Aoshi's left hand flew to his second Kodachi.
Aoshi's swipe forced Kenshin to jump back onto the bridge's rails, his hands far from his own Sakabato. Kenshin gazed at Aoshi with the most disappointed expression, Aoshi's nothing more than emptiness, and there was a whisper of a breath before a swift gust of wind blew through the river's current, ripples forming in a chain effect of fragile waves.
"Do you forget what I had said those two times? Did you forget what had happened? Or have you simply not remembered yet?" Kenshin whispered in a hushed voice, "Don't you remember Misao? She probably cries for you, Aoshi, her tears are for you. Your selfish desire to kill me has sacrificed far more than what you would gain with my death."
Aoshi snorted and it was clearly evident by the look on his face that he was getting rather impatient. Not responding to Kenshin's statements, he lunged, and Kenshin felt the front of his gi rip as he dodged Aoshi's attack just in time.
"Do you not remember what I said, Aoshi?" Kenshin's face was entirely monotonous as he stared hard into Aoshi's eyes, taking a breath before elaborating, "I had said that I committed many unforgivable crimes as the Hitokiri Battousai, I always thought that when I died, I would pay for all of it. I'll never give up my will to live no matter how much I'm tormented by my guilt, or if I have to answer for my crimes. Aoshi. You said you've sacrificed everything you had for this. It's easy to give up. Anyone can give up anytime they want. Your sword techniques are stronger than before. But your mind has become weak. I completely understand why you want to give your four men, who died to save you, the title of the Strongest warriors. But that's the only reason you can come up with for you to throw away your life. Your weak mind rationalizes your actions, but when you say you're doing it for them, you disgrace their memories and make them responsible."
And as Kenshin finished, he exhaled soundly, turning his head to stare at the dark-emerald foilage of the Arashiyama Mountain, admiring how the wind rustled through the branches and allowed them to sway in every which direction. Through all this, Kenshin felt the blades of Aoshi's swords fall, producing a definite thump when they struck the wooden boards, the hilts grasped loosely in his hands.
"You disgrace Misao."
Silence.
Although Kenshin was not facing Aoshi, he knew that there was confusion written all over his face, his face contorting, becoming more and more puzzled with each recollecting reality of the truth striking him harder than any sword's blow. Kenshin sighed, and jumped down from the rail, feeling the wind fly past the two fighters.
"AOSHI-SAMA! YOU SON OF A -" a high-pitched voice rang through the still air, shattering the silence.
"LANGUAGE, MISAO, LANGUAGE!" a deep voice roared, and the shapes of Misao, Sano, Megumi, and Yahiko stumbled into view.
Misao picked up her pace, running at breakneck speed straight past the unprepared Kenshin and slamming into Aoshi, collapsing there and then, bursting into tears.
"A-Aoshi-s-sama," Misao hiccuped, "W-why?! Why'd y-you leave us?! W-why'd you leave m-me? I love you, Aoshi, I love you, goddammit."
There was a clunk as both of Aoshi's Kodachis fell to the ground, and Aoshi slumped to the fallen Misao, a look of disbelieving realization and an apologetic expression plastered onto his face, his arms holding Misao close as he embraced her, mumbling in a sincere whisper, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."
Kenshin smiled as he saw the scene unfold before him, and a pang of loneliness struck him as he spotted the silk ribbon still tied around his wrist. He missed Kaoru unbearably.
Wolf scurried behind a tall wooden support, balancing on his feet so as he wouldn't be seen from the other side. His heart was beating horribly fast and his breath came in irregular gasps. How did he ever think he could do this?
But no, he had to do this, had to make sure that Shouri wouldn't kill himself, had to make sure that he'd come back alive...because he was the only one Wolf had left...
Roughly shaking his head, Wolf put a determined look on his face, putting aside all other thoughts as he peeked around the support, glancing at the fighters that had begun to march in a straight, even line, every other samurai holding a candle before him. Their bamboo hats shaded their faces, making their expressions unreadable and making it incredibly hard to differenciate between fighters.
The sun still had not risen yet, but it was clear that clouds shrouded the sky. Suddenly, rain started to drizzle, its heavy, steady drops falling onto the earth. The candles immediately extinguished, and Wolf had the difficult task of finding his way to the end of the line in the dark.
Wolf had not spotted Shouri, but he had hoped to find him when they reached the designated fighting grounds, perhaps he would be able to talk Shouri out of it.
He waited awhile before running in light steps towards the end of the line, hoping that he would not be caught by the others. He did not dare to breathe as he tip-toed after them, and the fear that they could hear his heart beat made him tremble with fear. If they had saw him, they did not mention anything, and Wolf was satisfied with this. He needed to reach Shouri...
Walking solemnly in the mud through the light rain, the remaints of the Choshu Clan marched through the night, their footsteps penetrating the silence. But something else shattered the night as well, as Wolf gasped as he heard a samurai yell as a sword contacted with his skin.
It all happened too fast...
The members of the Mito Clan sprang from the roofs and shadows of buildings as they ambushed the Chosho Clan, drawing their weapons and catching them off-guard.
Shouri...
The rain drops stung Wolf's eyes as he ran through the messled crowd of samurai, trying to find his brother, trying to make sure that his brother was alright.
Don't let him be dead...
"Shouri!" Wolf yelled, he had been so sure that he saw his brother, and scrambled past two dueling fighters, dodging their bodies before finding that he had again lost sight of his brother.
Where's is he...?
The sound was unbearable, how was he going to find him?
And among the fights and the battles, Wolf felt a shadow creep up behind him, and as he turned around, he found the blood-thirsty face of a samurai, his crimson-drenched sword more than ready to strike.
Wolf was frozen to the spot, and he found his legs shaking unconditionally under him, refusing to move no matter how much he willed them to. He couldn't yell...he would never be able to find Shouri...
Shouri...
And as Wolf braced for the blow, he clenched his eyes shut, and when the pain did not come, he hesitantly peeked them open, to find the back of a boy shielding his, the man's sword dug deep into his abdoman.
No...
"SHOURI!" Wolf screamed, and desperately fell on his knees to his immobile, fallen brother.
He can't be...he can't be...
Shouri's blood thoroughly drenched them both as Wolf held his brother in his arms. Tears ran down his cheeks as reality crashed into him, and rainwater streamed down their bodies, soaking them, and allowing blood to stain the land of Japan.
The shadow of the fighter still loomed over them both, and Wolf made no move to avoid his blow. He was ready to die. Let him kill him...then he'd see Shouri again...
But yet again, the sword did not come, and Wolf sorrowly glanced up to see the gleaming face of Gensou hack off the fighter's head, killing his brother's murderer.
Flames licked at the surrounding buildings, the fire consuming and tearing through the wood. The heat emanated off of the fire-red smoke that filled the already heavy air, a disgusted look on Gensou's face, his eyes tearing through Wolf altogether. Eyes that gleamed through the darkness.
But Wolf paid Gensou no mind. Only one word reverberated in his heart, mind, and soul.
Shouri...
Wolf jerked awake with a cry, his arms flailing at his sides as he felt cold sweat trickle down his face, gasping, fighting for breath.
Kaoru awoke beside Wolf, sleep-drugged and weary before she came to her senses and asked in a frantic, worried voice, "What's wrong, Wolf?"
Wolf took a few deep breaths, seconds of climatic silence filling the air as Wolf finally whispered in a haunted voice, "I killed my brother."