::squeaks:: I have REVIEWS! I have—5 REVIEWS! EEE! ::is very pleased::
Want to get more chapters? Then review more. Trust me—there's a direct link between number of reviews and how fast the chapters get themselves written.
And there's also a bit of fluffiness in this chapter. But not much. (Just to tease you.)
Okay, we're going to get all nice and dark in this chapter. Mostly because I am a total nitwit and severely overprotective. Things will get considerably darker over the next few chapters—it's not going to be very pretty for Kaoru or Kenshin, let's just say that right now.
"..." denotes speaking
*...* denotes thinking
DISCLAIMER: Believe it or not, Kenshin does, in fact, belong to me. ^.^
(Watsuki can keep those pesky copyrights on our story.)
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Chapter Two
Once again, the dojo was in chaos.
The newcomer was attempting to cross the yard towards Kenshin, but was unfortunately being blocked by a furious Kaoru who was shouting at him at the top of her lungs. Yahiko, who had still had his bokken in hand, was whacking him repeatedly in the shins and ankles. Sanosuke was glowering from behind Kaoru, unable to get a shot in between the livid instructor and her student. And Kenshin was standing on the porch, watching the scene very unhappily, and feeling a headache coming on.
"I must insist you move!" The man said loudly, over Kaoru's diatribe. "This man is a criminal and I must—"
"You must and will do nothing!" Kaoru yelled, blue flames practically sparking in her eyes. "You are going to turn around and leave this instant! How dare you come in here and make that kind of a challenge!"
"—he has killed dozens of people—"
"Eleven years ago, damn you! He doesn't kill anymore! He wouldn't even FIGHT anymore if idiots like you didn't come around and start attacking him like this!"
"—he needs to be brought to justice—"
"And justice is you breaking and entering into our home and harassing a harmless wanderer?!"
"If he's a wanderer, why's he staying here?!" The man demanded, pouncing on Kaoru's words.
"Because it's his HOME, you thick-headed clod!" Kaoru roared. "He's staying here because it's his home! It's what people normally do in the places they occupy!"
Kenshin's woebegone face brightened a bit at this declaration.
"Now, see here!" The man growled, waving his sword in Kaoru's face. "I've come here to challenge the Battousai to a fight, and I will have a fight!"
"What is your name, sir?" The quiet question somehow managed to still everyone present, floating over the air and settling on the argument. The man turned toward the porch, righteous pride in his actions as he straightened with a sniff. Kaoru stuck her tongue out at his back, then turned her eyes to Kenshin, hoping to see him give her a brief smile for her audacity.
But he was not looking at her. He was watching the stranger very steadily. After a brief flash of hurt, Kaoru decided that she was glad that he didn't see her. There was ice in his eyes that was unnerving, a look reserved normally for serious fights. Kaoru blinked. In fact, she hadn't seen that look in his eyes for a long time. What had provoked that coldness from him?
Her eyes were caught away by the man's sword, which he had lifted again to point melodramatically at Kenshin. Her heart leapt. Moments before, the stranger had threatened her with it. Were those cold eyes for her sake?
"I," The stranger announced pompously, "am Komachii Hiroji, and I've come to challenge you, Battousai!"
"Yes, I got that last part, that I did." Kenshin murmured. "Anything else?"
"Eh?" Hiroji blinked at him.
"Well, why are you attacking this one?" Kenshin prompted.
"Oh." The man's confusion cleared, and his pride came blasting back. "I am here to correct the wrongs done to my family!"
"Your family?" Kenshin asked with a frown. "And what have I done to your family?"
Hiroji's eyes flashed furiously. Whatever else the man was, he had his pride, Kaoru noted. "My father's name was Komachii Ieyasu, Battousai, and he was a loyal and steadfast supporter of the Ishin Shishi. However, because he was suspected of shady dealings with the lower aspects of the Revolution, the Meiji government decided they didn't want him linked back to them. So," His voice shook with fury, "YOU were ordered to assassinate him!"
Kenshin's frown deepened. "I remember that assignment." He said softly.
Kaoru stared at him. Part of her was intrigued, another frightened. Kenshin rarely spoke of his days of an assassin to anyone. She and the rest of his "family" were the ones who knew the most, but even they were kept in the dark for most details. If Kenshin was speaking about his former occupation to a complete stranger, the reason must have been a good one—or the memory especially strong.
"Then you confess!" Hiroji exclaimed in a triumphant rage. "Repent, then, and I will make your passing easy!"
"I do not confess." Kenshin replied. "I remember that assignment, and I remember refusing it."
"What?" Hiroji stared at him, as did everyone else.
"It was one of the last orders I ever received, that it was." Kenshin explained, his voice very quiet. "Right after I decided never to kill again. I hadn't disappeared yet, and the assassination assignments were still being handed out for 'clean-up' work."
There was a long silence for a moment as Kaoru read between the brief lines of Kenshin's clarification. *He must have received the order right after Tomoe's death…..*Compassion for her red-haired Rurouni rose as she gazed at him. This time, his eyes rose and found hers. As he looked at her, lavender gaze carefully expressionless, he seemed to suddenly stand a bit taller, like a great weight had been lifted. Indeed, he offered her a small smile of thanks before turning his attention back to Hiroji.
Kaoru felt like singing.
Hiroji, however, was not buying Kenshin's story.
"Liar!" He spluttered furiously. "You are a lying murderer, Battousai! Who can trust the word of an assassin?! You killed my father in cold-blood, and you feel no regret! Repent, damn you! Repent and die!"
"I am sorry you do not believe me, that I am." Kenshin apologized, his eyes regaining their bright spark of life. "And I do regret your father's passing, that I do. But I am not responsible for his death. Please, give up your search, and go home. Do honor to the family you have left."
"There are none left!" Hiroji spat. "My mother killed herself a year after my father's murder! My brothers went to avenge his death by fighting in the Boshin War, and all are dead or missing! I am the only one left to take vengeance for my father and my family!"
"You are mad with grief, I understand." Kenshin said soothingly, raising his hands. "But this mindless attacking does no good, that it does not."
"Shut up!" The man screamed, and now it seemed that Kaoru could see the haze of insanity in his eyes. "Shut up and accept responsibility for their deaths!"
"No one can be blamed for your family's deaths." Kenshin moved forward slightly, ready to step off the porch and comfort the man.
"My father's murderer can." Hiroji said angrily. "YOU can."
"But this one is not his killer!" Kenshin said helplessly, beginning to understand that he was unable to reach through to his attacker.
"Silence!" The man bellowed. "You will receive your punishment!" His sword raised, and his stance shifted into a fighting style.
A cold wind whipped through Kaoru's hair. She started at the sudden chilly touch on the back of her neck, glancing up at the sky in astonishment. Thick black storm clouds were rolling overhead now, accompanied by the occasional soft rumble of thunder. Studying them, Kaoru felt an ominous twinge in the pit of her stomach.
Her movement had caught Hiroji's eye. His head swiveled on a thick brawny neck to stare at her, beady eyes clever. "You!" He barked. "What are you to this man?" He jerked his head back at Kenshin.
Kaoru's eyes narrowed at him, and she haughtily tossed her head. "I'm his—" She hesitated, and glanced at Kenshin uncertainly. What WERE she and Kenshin, anyhow? Friends? Companions? Something more?
Kenshin regarded her intently, no emotion showing in his soft purple eyes. He seemed more interested in her answer than Hiroji was. But no hint of his feelings warmed his eyes. He would not let his heart influence her words.
Kaoru took a deep breath. "I'm—well—for my part, he's the dearest person in my world." She blushed as she said it, but did not let her eyes skitter away.
A faint, well held-back smile blossomed on Kenshin's face like the sun breaking over a chilly winter dawn. The look he gave her was still very reserved, but even she could see the pleasure in it. Her insecurity vanished into joy as she returned his smile.
Hiroji saw the look that passed between them, and he read what even Kenshin could not see in Kaoru's face, and saw how his eyes lit up on her.
"Huh." He grunted. "No accounting for taste."
"Why, you—"
As Kaoru sputtered indignantly, he turned back around to face her. Her protests were silenced as his sword tip came within an inch of her nose. Kenshin's smile disappeared, and he grew very still, eyes fixed on the sword.
"So," Hiroji drawled. "This girl is your woman, is she not, Battousai?"
Kaoru froze, stunned beyond words. His woman? Another of Kenshin's challengers had called her that once. While inwardly she was somewhat delighted to hear herself referred to as such, even if it wasn't true, there was a matter of honor to think of.
"His WOMAN?! I beg your pardon, but you make me sound like a possession! Keep your rude remarks to yourself, pig!"
She did not renounce the name, though, which both Kenshin and Kaoru observed absentmindedly.
"Quiet." The sword tip tapped her nose lightly. Kaoru squeaked and silenced herself again. For a brief moment, the blade's sharpness had slid along her skin, and the feel of it was enough to put her back on her guard.
"You will not touch Miss Kaoru with your blade again, that you will not." Kenshin said quietly, his eyes beginning to glare at Hiroji.
"Kenshin—" Sanosuke began, not liking the way this was going at all (and feeling a little left out). Kenshin's eyes flashed at him, and he wisely quieted.
"Really?" Hiroji smiled; it was not a nice smile. "Battousai, since you took my family away from me, it seems a fitting punishment that I take yours away, doesn't it?" His blade drew back and pointed to the hollow of Kaoru's throat. "Starting with her."
Sanosuke and Yahiko both simultaneously swore at Hiroji. "Coward." Yahiko muttered. "Let me meet you in the dojo and we'll see who will beat who!" Kaoru carefully and quietly bent her knees and prepared herself. If he stabbed, she could probably deflect it or dodge so that it would only cut and not do permanent damage—
"You," Kenshin said icily, "will NOT touch Miss Kaoru with your blade again. That you will NOT."
The world seemed to stand still. Kaoru's eyes, which had been eyeing the blade very attentively for the past tense moments, raised to look at him.
Kenshin's eyes had narrowed and frozen into an icy violet that was nearly burning with its power. For a moment, it seemed a speck of gold could be seen in their depths.
Kaoru drew in a breath. *Oh, no.*
Kenshin had gotten mad.
With careful precision, Kenshin moved forward, stepping off the porch. His usually relaxed figure was hardening into the predatory glide that she had so rarely seen. Those wintry eyes were fixed on Hiroji and his blade. For a moment, they made eye contact, and Kaoru saw an unholy rage that was dying to break free before Kenshin's eyes broke away. Her breath came in a startled gasp—he wasn't just mad, he was furious!
For a moment, she felt a touch of gratification that her safety could provoke that kind of reaction. What lingered even longer was the strange feeling that had sprung up when his eyes had latched onto her. In the midst of his tightly-contained rage, she had felt some deep part of Kenshin look at her in approval and in fierce protectiveness, and that gave her the peculiar feeling that someone had started a fire in her heart that scorched its way up and down her form with a pleasant heat.
*Well,* she thought, strangely serene even with a sword less than three inches away from her neck, *at least I know he cares.*
"Your quarrel is with this one, that it is." Kenshin asserted evenly, halting just in front of Hiroji and glaring up at him. "Keep it that way."
Hiroji looked down at the petite ex-assassin in bewilderment. For a second, it seemed he would abandon his fight in the face of such an intimidating adversary. But then his will hardened, and the mist of insanity clouded his mind. "Fine." He sneered, removing his sword from Kaoru and bringing it to face Kenshin. "Fine. Then let us begin, Battousai."
"Kenshin—" Sanosuke began, moving forward. "This is stupid, we can just get the police—"
"Thank you, Sano." Kenshin replied evenly, not looking at the ex-fighter-for-hire. "But I would prefer to handle this myself, that I would."
"But—"
Whatever was in the look that Kenshin sent him, it was enough to silence Sanosuke. He fell back slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets and scowling.
Kaoru bit her lip. Something about this wasn't right. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but a part of Kenshin seemed to be missing. Something she had never seen him without, some vital part………
The two enemies had moved apart, getting a comfortable and customary between them to begin the battle. Kenshin's eyes were still iced over, she could tell, but now they were half-hidden beneath the shadows of his scarlet hair. Hiroji was fingering his sword, a small, crazy smile on his face. A shudder ran down her spine as she saw that smile—too many of Kenshin's opponents had worn that same look.
She turned to size up Kenshin. He seemed normal, but there was definitely something missing………
Kenshin crouched, moving back into his fighting stance. His hand moved back to his left thigh to grasp his sword—then he froze, disbelief lancing through him.
Kaoru saw him start. She clapped a hand to her mouth as she realized what he was missing, then slowly turned around to search the yard.
Sure enough, Kenshin's sakabatou was lying in the dust by the empty laundry basket.
Kenshin ground his teeth as he followed Kaoru's gaze to see his sword. That might complicate matters, if Hiroji happened to take offense………
"Are you ready, Battousai?" Hiroji demanded eagerly.
"Actually," Kenshin said easily, fighting the urge to either blush or stammer, as this would have not been very menacing, "I left my sword on the other side of the yard, so if you'll excuse me, I can get it and we can continue from there." He began to stride past the man, eyes riveted to the dusty, worn black sheath of his sakabatou. *Don't think anything of this, it's totally natural for a man to get his sword before a duel—*
"Wait."
Kenshin sighed in exasperation as his sight was suddenly obscured by the edge of a blade held a few scant inches from his face. "Yes?" He asked as politely as was possible under the circumstances.
Hiroji was scrutinizing him suspiciously. This was not a good sign. "Why didn't you have your sword with you?" He asked apprehensively, moving his sword an inch closer.
Kenshin moved to duck under the sword. "Because I put it aside when I was doing the laundry."
The sword moved with him. "The laundry."
Kenshin attempted to dodge it again. "Yes. The laundry."
Again, the sword slipped in front of him. "Ha!" Hiroji crowed, shoving himself at Kenshin so that the swordsman had to bend backwards to avoid being scalped. "I see through your trick now, Battousai! You cannot fool me! What kind of a man does the laundry? It is a foolish excuse!"
"That's what we've been telling him for months." Yahiko muttered under his breath.
"You merely wish to make me lower my guard and attack me from behind!" Hiroji continued. He was beginning to foam slightly at the mouth. "Well, I will not have it, Battousai! I will not be taken in by your treachery!" And with that, he lunged at the smaller man, swinging his sword passionately.
Kenshin sidestepped and spread his hands appealingly. "But sir, if you'll just look—" Another swipe made Kenshin hastily step back and stop his words. Hiroji was on him, and from the bright gleam in his eyes, clearly unable to hear a word his opponent was saying. He was in a battle rage accompanied by insanity, and there would be no stopping him now.
And what was worse, the man wasn't half bad with a sword. Nothing special, nothing that couldn't be dodged—but it would be harder to defeat him with only fists, that it would. Kenshin sighed in resignation and put his mind to the task of outwitting and defeating the fanatic.
From the sidelines, Kaoru's heart was thumping wildly in her chest. She, too, had seen that the man had had some training in swordsmanship. And his fervor and desire to kill Kenshin was making him fast and unpredictable, with no style or control to his movements. Kenshin could predict his movements, yes, but it was easier to predict movements if you had an idea of the pattern the enemy was following. Hiroji followed no pattern, and thus, though he was much less skilled than many of Kenshin's other foes, he was dangerous.
"Sano," She whispered, not doubting that her adopted brother could hear her.
"Yeah, Kaoru?"
"Is—is Kenshin in danger?"
"I don't know." Sanosuke said carefully. "He's faced a lot worse—"
"Sano, please don't dodge the question."
Sanosuke sighed. "Yeah, Jou-chan. Kenshin's in danger." His eyes carefully concentrated on the fight.
Kaoru felt like someone had hit her a blow to the gut. "How?" She managed to say, wincing as her voice came out almost as a whimper.
Sanosuke slowly drew in a breath. "Enishi. Shishio. They've slowed him down a bit, Kaoru. Megumi's told you enough about that."
"But he's strong enough, right?" Kaoru demanded. "He isn't going to—to drop dead or anything, is he?!"
"Hell, Kaoru, don't worry about that!" Sano waved his hand impatiently. "Nah, he'll live, as long as he doesn't go and get himself in another massive fight anytime soon. He's still better than anyone in Japan, I'll bet. But he's still recovering from his wounds—it's only been a few weeks since your rescue, after all. So naturally he's going to be a bit slower." His voice was clipped and very matter-of-fact, but deep down inside Sanosuke was as worried as Kaoru was. Kenshin was moving very slowly—for him, that is, since he was still managing to move beyond what normal eyes could pick up. But weariness and strain were evident in him, and even though there was no contest, Kenshin's strength still needed a great deal of building up.
On the battlefield, Kenshin winced inside as he spun to avoid another frantic slice. That one back wound was going to need stitching again at this rate—he ducked in time to feel Hiroji's blade whistle just overhead and slice the ends off his hair. He ground his teeth in frustration as Hiroji turned his blade and continued the arc back at him.
This was going to be a long, tedious fight at this rate. Hiroji was just fast and erratic enough that he could never find an open spot in time, unless he wanted to just snap the man's spinal cord in half, which was beginning to become a very intriguing possibility. Since he could not attack, the only other option was to eventually wear the man down—which wasn't a very attractive option, because Hiroji's battle-lust was not slaking and Kenshin doubted it would run out any time soon.
Kaoru nervously shifted back and forth. "Maybe I should intervene." She said quietly. "I could probably beat him with my bokken—"
"Don't even THINK about it, Jou-chan." Sanosuke snorted, laying a very firm hand on her shoulder. "Kenshin would kick my ass if I let you get involved in one of his fights."
"I'm always involved in one of 'his' fights some way or another, Sano!"
"Well, if I let you get involved in ANOTHER of his fights, then." He shot her a warning look as she glared back at him. "NO, Kaoru. You are not going to get yourself in trouble."
"But he's hurting himself!" Kaoru exclaimed, wincing as Kenshin twisted in midair and landed crouched on the ground. "Sano, you said yourself that he's still healing—this can't be helping—"
"He'll be FINE, Kaoru." Sanosuke gritted out, letting himself get annoyed at his 'little sister' to keep his own fear from showing.
Kenshin dodged the next of Hiroji's slices with a movement of his shoulders that was going to make Megumi berate him for an hour the next time she got her claws on him. He blinked a bit, moving his shoulder up and down and feeling yet another of his still-healing wounds reopen. This fight wasn't nearly so light anymore—it was beginning to aggravate him.
Hiroji stabbed at him again. Kenshin easily stepped sideways—
Fiery pain suddenly coursed through him, so intense that for a moment his eyes went blank as he tried to deal with the pain. Spots danced in front of his vision as he slowly sank to the ground, trying desperately to figure out what had conjured this agony.
One hand raised to touch his right side. As his fingers ran over the huge gash that was now beginning to seep blood, his mind flew back to the many battles he had been through. Shishio, Enishi—how many had hit him in his side, in that one damned spot? He dazedly wondered how on earth his body could have picked such a horrible time to turn rebellious and revamp all his old scars.
"I am in trouble, that I am." Kenshin whispered, struggling back to his feet. The blood from the wound was running down his side, turning the magenta gi into a deep scarlet. He slowly raised his eyes to see what he knew would be there.
Hiroji loomed over him, his face a mask of delight. "At last!" He crowed, raising his sword. "Vengeance is mine!" The dull side of his sword flipped over to point downward, Hiroji raised it high and began to bring it down.
Kenshin did not try to dodge. He didn't even attempt to move. He just let the sword come crashing down onto his weary shoulders. The pain that followed was just enough to let him sink back to the ground, nothing compared to the fire eating away at his side. He sat up slowly, letting his red hair fall slowly in front of his eyes. Instead of submission to destiny, as he always assumed would happen when he risked facing his end, a defiant spark was warming him. This foe was going down—he just didn't know how yet. And as Hiroji again raised his sword, Kenshin knew that he was running out of time to come up with a solution.
Kaoru did not see the delicacies of a battle, or the fact that Kenshin had never lost a fight. She did not see that he was strong enough to overcome Hiroji no matter what odds. She did not see that his mind was working furiously even as he endured the rain of blows that Hiroji now so thoughtfully bestowed on him.
All she knew was the Rurouni, her Kenshin, the man she had loved since the first day she knew him, was hurt, and badly so. And that she was not going to let him leave her again.
Fury like nothing she had ever known was spiraling up from the depths of her soul, making her eyes blaze with an unholy glow. As quick as she could, she had broken free of Sano's grip on her shoulder. Ignoring his shout, she spun and raced towards the laundry basket, eyes centering in and focused on the sakabatou.
She slid to a halt by its hilt, and as lightning crackled overhead, she reached out and grasped it, letting her fingers slide along the handle. A quiet groan from the fight made her turn back in time to see Kenshin suffer a particularly hard blow to his neck.
All thoughts and plans of action left her. Instead a desire to attack, to ram her bokken into Hiroji, to make him regret ever laying his eyes on her dojo or HER wanderer, made her yank the sakabatou from its sheath. Not hesitating a moment, she swung the sword up and began to sprint at Hiroji, hatred flaring in her eyes and blinding her to all but her blood-stained friend and love lying on the ground and his merciless attacker above.
Kenshin let himself entertain a few visions of what Battousai could do to this nut-case as the dull edge of Hiroji's blade thwacked along his ribs. All right, this was getting very annoying. He was going to deal with Hiroji now—
He tried to stand, and realized he couldn't.
*Oh, dear.*
Too much abuse. His body had had enough. His mind had been ruthlessly trained to ignore pain and work beyond it for all his life, but now that training would not let him see that he was actually suffering. And now he could not feel his limbs at all. Numbness from the bruises all over his body seeped through him. He was paralyzed, unable to take any more.
Well, if this was dying, it wasn't so bad at least. It was wrong to give up, but the thought of being able to rest for a while was so enchanting that he couldn't resist.
Detachedly, he watched Hiroji's blade swing up for what would be the final time.
*You really messed this one up, didn't you?* He thought, vaguely amused that his life was going to end at the hands of a madman. It seemed very appropriate, somehow.
Then he realized, with some distress, *Miss Kaoru is not going to be happy with this.*
It was enough—more than enough—to get him moving again. The warmth that spread through him when he thought of Kaoru fought back at the coldness. With an enormous effort and a soft groan of pain, Kenshin let himself feel the pain of a hundred blows.
It hurt—heavens, it hurt. But at least he could feel again.
Slowly, he began to raise himself from the ground.
Hiroji stared at him in bewilderment. Kenshin was black and blue all over, blood was seeping from a dozen new and opened wounds, and his entire side was now saturated with blood. And still this petite, slender, soft-looking man was rising. Willing to continue fighting.
Had the man not been insane or perhaps had an ounce of sense left in him, he would have dropped his sword and hightailed it out of there. But Hiroji's mind had been lost in madness for years, and so it was that he again raised his sword to bring it down on his enemy.
Kenshin glared at his enemy, preparing for the next blow.
Hiroji's blade reached the apex of his reach—
Kenshin crouched, ready to defend—
The blade fell from Hiroji's slacked grip, and clattered to the ground. A surprised look filled the man's face as his eyes went blank. Slowly, almost gently, his body crumpled and crashed down.
Kenshin stared down at the corpse for a moment, mind uncomprehending. Then his eyes slowly rose.
A heavy rain began to fall out of the storm clouds above. Lightning flashed over head, accompanied by a boom of thunder.
Kaoru was standing in the mud a few feet away, just behind Hiroji's body. Her eyes were wide with shock and a slowly growing and sickened horror.
And in her hands, the sakabatou's blade, reversed and upright, shone a slick, bloody red.
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