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A/N: Okay. Based on past reviews, I feel I have to put this in...
1) The author admits to being a shameless Battousai fan.
2) On vows: see previous fics "Veritas" and "Spin Cycle".
3) This is supposed to be an AU fix to "Reflections".
4) This fic is rated R, and includes Demona... who has no qualms about killing, and has, literally, tried to wipe out every human on the face of the planet. Several times. Think of her as the Gargoyles equivalent of Shishio Makoto. Only immortal.
5) Based on all of the above, if you're still not expecting violence....
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"Haaahhh...."
Dimly Kenshin felt Kaoru grab his arm, holding him upright when his knees threatened to buckle in the dawn. Battousai held his mind and blood, urging his hand toward his katana's hilt, snarling of threat and enemy and kill....
But no one's here. I know no one's here!
"Get him out of sight!" Saitou's growl, faded by the fiery drum of blood in his veins. The Shinsengumi's strong hands closed on his shoulders, half-dragging them all behind the cloth-loaded wagon. They didn't stop until paper-wrapped bolts blocked the view of the cloth trader; Benkai barely hesitated, determinedly chatting the Korean up while he and Aoshi helped repair the wagon's loose wheel. Dabbing cream on the donkey's nagging harness sore, Megumi cast them a wide-eyed glance, then threw a pointed look at Misao. The ninja tossed dark steel, distracting the trader's son with jacks that doubled as caltrops in the night. "Enomouto's convinced the locals we're simple travelers so far, but if they see this-"
Pain. Like black ice, creeping through his skin, quenching Battousai's fire as it hissed inward.
"Kami-sama, no." Kaoru's voice trembled. "Not again!"
Kaoru. Kaoru is in danger.
I don't think so!
Darkness shattered.
Kenshin panted on Kaoru's shoulder, shaky as if he'd broken a dozen Shin no Ippous one after the other. Hurts... tired....
Cotton rustled. A slap. "Hands off, Saitou!"
"Kamiya. The damn fool didn't taste blood last night. Too much of the rurouni in him still, won't kill when he has a chance not to. He won't throw off another attack without help." The wolf snorted. "And I doubt he'll take mine."
"...Oh."
Kaoru's hair fell over his face like midnight rain. Kenshin breathed in jasmine, cotton touched with sweat and steel, the warmth that was just Kaoru. Safe. I'm safe. She's safe. And she smells so good.
He nuzzled tender skin. Moved down her throat, following that tantalizing scent to the dip of her shoulder.
Saitou's watching.
But Kaoru's hand brushed his cheek like falling cherry petals, love burning bright in her ki.
Saitou can go to hell.
Warm. Red. Coppery. And oh so familiar.
Better....
Kenshin blinked, suddenly aware of Saitou's careful gaze elsewhere, Megumi's hurried approach. "Aoshi said the curse hit again," the doctor said in a rush. "Is Kenshin - oh."
Why does the earth never open up and swallow you when you wish it? "I've hurt you," he said softly, pulling back from Kaoru's shoulder.
"No!" Blue eyes met his, hesitated. "Not really," Kaoru amended. "Are you all right?"
"No, he isn't," Megumi said flatly, dabbing with a damp cloth at patches of peeling skin on his throat and hands. "How much more of this can he take?"
----------
"Just keep smiling," Benkai advised Misao as they got Yan's cloth-laden wagon back onto the road. Between her antics and Aoshi's cool expression, Yan hadn't noticed the swift flurry of action around Himura. He hoped.
Though how anybody could not notice that - that darkness....
Benkai headed back toward the knot of people walking behind the wagon, absently tugging at the neck of his dark brown kimono. Granted, the borrowed clothes had gone a long way toward convincing those they met that this group was nothing more than a bunch of innocent civilians trying to avoid all three countries' militaries, but it felt weird being in traditional Japanese garb. Almost as weird as being out of uniform.
They say the ronin of old drifted, carried along by the waves of time. Benkai shook his head, all too aware of the weight of the bokken slung over his shoulder. I feel like I got hit by a tsunami. "What did you leave behind?"
"What?" Amber blinked at him, still dull with a trace of fever.
Stay calm, Benkai told himself, shivering inside. Even ill, golden eyes were cool and calculating as a dragon's, promising quick death to any threat. Just try to stay calm. Don't run-
I'm not running?
He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to.
And yet... part of him just wouldn't.
Figure it out later. "I've only heard about death-curses in legends, but..." Benkai shrugged. "Usually, if the spell hits hard all of a sudden, the witch just got hold of something important. Something connected to you."
"I didn't have that much to leave when Sano found me," Battousai started.
"Sanosuke." Kaoru paled.
"Trust the rooster-head to find trouble." Saitou's lip curled.
"He's a friend?" Benkai asked, uncertain.
"Hai," Himura nodded. "A good friend."
"Not to mention a hot-headed, impulsive, superstitious idiot who sees ghosts and think trains run by kitsune tricks," Megumi added, smacking a fist into her palm.
Oh boy. "Someone who might have gone looking for a feng shui master for revenge?"
Kaoru gave him a fierce glare. "You know something."
Wish I didn't. "Is he about six foot with wild black hair, mid-thirties, wears red wrist wraps, speaks bad Korean and worse Chinese?"
Saitou gave him a level look. "We're not the first to come through here asking questions."
"No." Benkai didn't shake his head, unwilling to look away from Himura's eyes. Like a trapped eagle's, that golden gaze tore at something in his heart. This is wrong. This is so wrong. If someone wanted to kill him, they should come face to face....
Um, hello? the part of him that hadn't stopped shivering spoke up. Hitokiri? A face to face fight with him would be suicide!
Maybe so. But this curse... it was wrong. Like slipping mercury into a well. Like snaring a dragon in an enchanted net, to beat it to death with clubs.
Something pink blurred in front of his glasses.
Benkai started back, one hand reaching for the gun that wasn't there. What?
"Oh, he is awake." Still wiggling her fingers, Megumi gave him a foxy smile. "And here I thought I was going to get to practice my acupuncture. I can never seem to get the needle depth quite right...."
"Run," Kaoru advised wryly.
Running is good, Benkai thought, bolting ahead to fall in beside the wagon. Oh gods, they're all crazy.
"So he's caught you, too."
Heart. Beat. Good, Benkai told himself, trying not to shake from the rush of adrenaline that had spiked through him at Aoshi's words. "Would it kill you to make some noise when you walk?" he hissed.
Green eyes held a bare flicker of humor. "Yes."
"Gaah...."
"Fighting might keep you free a little longer. You have a swordsman's will-" Aoshi's lips parted, tasting the air. "Ah. Too late, then."
"Too late for what?" Benkai caught Yan's speculative glance from the wagon, lowered his voice. "Fighting what?"
"You feel for him." Aoshi's mouth bent slightly. "The most feared of all... and you would cast yourself between him and a drawn blade."
"What?" That's crazy! And I'm not. Crazy. Maybe I'm AWOL, maybe I'm sort of kidnapped, but I am not crazy. Get between a hitokiri and his enemy? Why on earth would I do something like-
Unbidden, the blaze of golden eyes filled his mind.
I don't....
Trapped. In agony.
I can't....
Fearless to the end.
I want....
No. No, it was impossible. He was a farmer's son, not a samurai. The Shogunate was dead and dust; there were no samurai anymore. Much less wandering ronin, cut free by chance or fortune, seeking for an honorable lord to serve.
The bokken seemed to burn on his shoulder. Proper, solid wood, shaped to have the heft and swing of a true sword. In an expert's hands, as deadly as steel.
Benkai gulped in air, trying to shake the feeling that he was suddenly drowning.
In basic training, they take away your clothes, your family, your very identity as a civilian, a cool, clear part of his mind stated. They show you another life, and try to make you want it, heart and soul.
Yet not all the months he'd spent under drill sergeants' snarling eyes had snared him as effectively as one touch of a sword-callused hand, one gentle look from eyes shifting from violet to burning, inhuman amber....
Run!
Iron fingers bit into the nerves of his shoulder. Blackness crashed down.
"I think," Aoshi's voice chased him into the dark, "That it's time you stopped thinking, shugyosha Benkai."
----------
Sadistic son of a bitch. Squirming the last inch to the dish of water Dragonfly had left on the floor, Sanosuke dipped his head to the side and sucked up mouthfuls of water. Chain rattled and clanked, biting his wrists and ankles as it settled around him. One thing you could always count on with torture, it made you thirsty as the Mongolian desert.
Could be worse. Sanosuke took a break to breathe, wondering when his muscles were going to stop twitching from those nasty purple sparks. Dragonfly had left hours before; now it was nearly sunset and he still couldn't stop shaking. At least the dried-up spook wants his people to do it, instead of letting that creep Tang at you.
And that was a stroke of luck, even if he did feel like someone had spun his muscles out of water. Sanosuke had seen the look in Tang's eyes before. That guy liked pain.
Two hours with him, and we'd both be dead.
Say what you wanted to about the damn sorcerer, at least Dragonfly had the smarts to see that. The feng shui master had politely declined Tang's offers of assistance, humbly declaring that the younger members of his circle needed an opportunity to practice their pain-casting spells.
Said it like he was inviting them to practice kata. Sanosuke shivered. Like they were the worst of the old-time samurai, committing "practice murders" on passersby. Man, I hate the government as much as anybody - but if these are the people trying to take over Korea, maybe the imperialists have a good idea taking it first....
Focus, Sano. What the hell does this guy want?
And how can you keep him from getting it?
Sano bent back to the water, letting the cool trickle past his lips distract him from the trembling burn of his body. Dragonfly's questions had ranged from the ordinary to the downright bizarre. Did Kenshin eat salt? Was he always near water? Had he ever been hit with beans during Setsubun?
Who hasn't? Sano shook his head, trying to sort what he'd learned into some kind of sense. It's like he thinks Kenshin's some kind of youkai....
Hitokiri Battousai. The demon of the Revolution. The wraith who slipped through the Shinsengumi's traps like smoke, leaving death in his wake.
Naah. That can't be it. The only name they've used is Himura. If they knew he was Battousai, somebody would have said something by now. Taking a last sip, Sanosuke drew slow, deep breaths. Focus. One, two-
Open-handed, his right hand slapped the iron chain twice.
Sanju no kiwami!
Iron shattered.
Gritting his teeth, Sanosuke shook off the outermost loop of chain. Curled fingers into fists, and wobbled to his feet. Okay. Now to get out of this statue gallery-
Crack. Crackle. Crunch.
Cracks spread over the gargoyle demon's statue. Stone flaked, split away as the frozen figure curled into wide-winged life. A lynx-like shriek cut the air.
"Oh, that's just not fair," Sanosuke managed.
A slate-blue fist slammed him into the wall.
Round two, the part of him that just loved a fight crowed. Let's get her!
Yeah, right, the more sane half of him groaned. Ah, hell....
She was stronger, but hampered by the close confines that didn't let her use her wings for height and speed. He was in worse shape... but she was between him and Kenshin's life.
The fight was quick, grim, and brutal.
Bleeding, Sanosuke stood over the semiconscious gargoyle, mustering the breath and strength for one last punch. Can't... let her walk away. Sorry, Kenshin; know you wouldn't want me to do this, but....
Teeth sank into his calf. "K'so!"
Leaping free, the cat-sized little gargoyle hissed at him. Tiger-striped fur stood on end, and its eyes glowed a faint white.
Like a kitten... trying to warn the Bad Thing away from Mommy. Sanosuke raised a fist. Sorry, kitten.
"Ma chroidh...." Demona's hand stroked bristled fur. "I won't... let you hurt her!"
That's a kid? Sanosuke could see it in the sudden fury in Demona's gaze, the naked rage of someone willing to risk everything - everything - to bring the enemy down. "I wouldn't - she's yours? Kami, I couldn't-"
Silk rustled behind him, and purple sparks blacked out the world.
Sometimes, life really sucks....
The floor hit harder than Demona's punch.
----------
"I see we need steel." Dragonfly fingered remnants of chain, feeling the prickle in his fingernails as bits of focussed ki snapped against his magic. "Impressive."
"But you're not surprised." Demona's eyes glowed as she stood over her fallen foe. "We should kill him now."
"Live bait works better," Dragonfly shrugged, pretending nonchalance. Especially should what I fear be true.
"Bait? For the man supposed to be dying of your curse?" The ruby glow narrowed. "What do you know, old man?"
Less than I would like. "I know that Li is sending us more men, so we may take Himura when he arrives."
"I thought he couldn't spare more men," Demona growled.
"As did I." Himura. What is Kenshin Himura, to frighten our government's shadowy arm so? "Assist me."
He called in White Pine, Ghost Face, and their three apprentices, trusting gargoyle claws to hold the unconscious Sagara down as the five lesser witches took position to match the five elements, passing power from hand to hand to work iron into shining, magic-laced steel.
Though I doubt even that will hold him without a watchful guard, Dragonfly thought darkly, watching with a cynical eye as Demona fastened the new chains on their bait. Such power, for a human not trained in magic. Power that bound him to Himura; that let him fight the curse along with Himura, preserving both their lives.
If he has this much power....
"I've been asking the wrong soul questions," Dragonfly said softly.
"Ah?" Wizened and gray of hair in a way that belied her forty-one years, White Pine gave him a glance that mixed curiosity and smoldering rage. He saw it, but did not fear it. The mistress of dark energies would be loyal to death and beyond. She'd had kin among those lost in Tokyo, and still hungered to wreak the same torment on Japan that British opium had wreaked on China.
"Sagara has power of his own," Dragonfly explained. "Even if he's seen Himura do something inhuman, Sagara might not see it as strange. We could question him for days and learn nothing."
"And if he has, he may know enough of his own chi to know what must be hidden." White Pine smiled cruelly. "If so... we should assuredly question him further."
"Later," Dragonfly waved it off. Fun would have to wait. "We must have answers now." He bowed. "And with your aid, Lady Demona, I believe we may obtain them."
Demona took the offered set of bone bits and sticks with a dark scowl. Looked over his matching set, and the arrangement of signs and incense, and took red chalk from him to finish the circle about them all when his own splinted arm would not serve. "You truly believe this Himura's not human."
"I believe nothing," Dragonfly said coldly. "I know that Li fears him, and that he was able to stop feng shui masters we knew to be strong in their magic, when no ordinary human could have defeated their defenses. Outside of that-" He shrugged. "Himura appeared human in daylight. But we all know magic too well to assume his true form from that, eh?"
"And I am gargoyle, and you are human," Demona inclined her head as she prepared to cast. "Two of the Three Races. If he is of the Third Race... we will know."
"Spirits are more than one race," White Pine said sharply.
Fangs gleamed, cold as the bones rattling over the floor. "You think that of humans, too."
----------
Hot. Tired. Aching.
Feeling the jolt of wagon wheels stopping through his bones, Kenshin opened bleary eyes to a chocolate glow in the twilight. Another blink focussed chocolate into a stretch of patterned brown silk, a scattering of unruly black hair just starting to break loose of its short haircut, and a subtle glow of an untrained swordsman's ki. Benkai?
Benkai. The ear-piece of the translator's glasses dug into his collarbone as the sleeping man's head rested against his shoulder. Both of them were tucked up against paper bolts, the unmistakable scent of indigo-dyed silk tickling Kenshin's nose. He barely noticed. How could someone he barely knew stay so close, and still feel safe?
"Mizu?"
Water, Kenshin realized after a second trying to decipher Yan's accent. The slosh in the canteen Kaoru handed up helped. "Yes, thank you." He bowed, still sitting, careful to keep his bangs hiding his eyes. "Kaoru...."
"I think we're almost there, wherever 'there' is. At least, as far as Yan's willing to take us. We really need Benkai awake." She shot him a worried look. "But Aoshi said we shouldn't wake him up. That only you should."
"Why?" Kenshin asked warily.
"That's what I asked him!" Kaoru flung up her hands. "He just smiled."
Smiled. The chill, calm, unflappable leader of the Aoiya onmitsu - had smiled.
He's up to something.
He's ninja. They're always up to something.
Setting aside foreboding, Kenshin tapped the translator on the nose. "Enomouto. Benkai-san. We've need of you."
"Ah - what-" The younger man sat up as if he'd been shocked, hand automatically going to his glasses. "Where - it's night? Did I....?"
"You needed the rest. This night will likely be... busy." Kenshin cleared the side of the wagon in one swift move, senses ranging out to check the rest of his allies. His head throbbed dully, though the rest had helped. Yet still he could sense the darkness eating at his ki, spreading out to lick black flames at the others.
Saitou's right, damn him. You can't take much more of this. And neither can they.
Oh, they were fighting it. Throwing off shreds of malice with every breath, burning bright as stars. Yet there was always more pouring in, an endless flood of hate and rage, fetid as a swamp in high summer.
And to think I believed Battousai was a demon's rage, Kenshin thought wearily, moving off to the side of the road with the rest of his group under a traveler's shade tree, half-listening to Benkai's tired but cheerful Korean farewell as Yan and his son headed off toward their customer's shop and bed. His hands shook a little as he accepted the bento box of cold lunch Kaoru handed over. From the clean vinegar tang as he opened the lid, she hadn't cooked. At least that fury is... clean. Clear. Focussed on removing the foe in one swift and merciful strike.
He could no longer deny that clean burn of rage. Battousai was all that was saving him. And them. The dark fire in his veins seared the malice even as it cast it away, rendering it fractured enough for other kis to fight. He could all but hear the wolfish growl as Saitou's soul fought back.
Aa, I can hear it, Kenshin realized, working his way through seaweed-wrapped fish and rice. So beautiful. Kaoru's ki was a ring of steel against darkness; Misao's and Aoshi's, the subtle slide of silk through a snare. Megumi was the taunting yip of a fox just out of hounds' reach, and Benkai-
Mouthful of rice and pickled vegetables, Kenshin choked. No.
"Kenshin?" Nibbling on a rice-ball dotted with raisins, Kaoru touched his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
No. But the sound, the feel were unmistakable.
Grimly finishing his meal, Kenshin put his chopsticks away. Touched Benkai's shoulder. In his mind he could hear the clack and clatter of a student's bokken, gamely trying to beat back a horde of opponents. "How long?"
"What?" But the feverish glitter of brown eyes belied Benkai's confusion.
"How long has he been ill?" Kenshin growled. "What have you done, Aoshi?"
"Nothing," the okashira declared. "You chose to take him under your guardianship, Battousai. He chose to accept it. And as legend tells us, a dragon's protection has... consequences."
"I'm fine," Benkai protested. But the shift of his eyes said he knew he lied.
You're dying. You're dying just like we are. Kenshin's fist clenched by his side. And you did nothing to deserve it.
Enough.
The night slid into fiery clarity.
"Kenshin." Kaoru took a half-step back.
"I think not." Saitou's smile was all fangs. "So, Battousai... how long has it been since you've hunted men?"
"Almost thirty years." Battousai tasted the night air, listened to the breeze, felt for that icy darkness of malice like a trail of smoke in the wind. "Tonight, it ends."
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Head buried in his chained arms, Sanosuke risked opening one eye a crack to peer at the stunned feng shui masters. Smoke still swirled through the air, following clattering fragments that smelled of charred mutton. Somehow, I don't think those bones were supposed to explode.
The sorcerers had been casting and chanting along with that gargoyle who refused to stay dead, Chinese sliding out of the dialect Sano understood into something archaic that wailed with savage Mongolian fury. Coins, bones, and sticks had glowed and fallen into one pattern after another, becoming more and more complex as the enchanters neared their goal. Purple malice had glowed around them, thickened-
And a spark of gold-laced green had blazed from the center kanji, blasting air and flesh like a Dou Ryuu Sen.
"Kenshin," Sano said under his breath, listening to Dragonfly babble about fire, and something-lung.
Lung. Wait a second... doesn't that mean dragon? Old memories came to mind, some of the names Kenshin had gathered over years of legends, and Sanosuke couldn't help but grin. Heh. Aw, poor babies. Did what you were up to just bite you?
Sanosuke felt warm claws prick against his back, and glanced over his shoulder at the little gargoyle beast curled in a terrified, frizz-furred arch behind the most solid protection in the room. "Easy, kitten. He's not going to hurt you. Not through me, he's not - gurk!"
Oh man, this is getting old.
Crimson eyes glared down into his, claws embedded in what was left of his collar. "What is he?" Demona snarled.
Sano glared past her. "Why don't you ask him?"
Demona whirled, snarling at the tall, uniformed man who now stepped through the smoke. "You! You said you set us on a human."
Gun holstered at his side, at least four armed flunkies holding position behind him, Li Tang smirked. "And if I'd told you he was rumored to be a demon, would you have worked against your own kind?"
"He is... not her kind." Creaking to his feet, Dragonfly glared at the Chinese intelligence officer. "He is not human. He is not a guardian of temples. He is fire and magic and death, and he is coming here!"
"Yes, he is," Tang's smile twisted with dark glee. "Amazing he's managed to slip our patrols so far... but our agent in the village just sent word that a redheaded Japanese was sighted along the road." Tang shook his head, tsking. "For one said to be the most deadly of assassins, you'd think he'd have learned to dye that hair."
"Assassin?" Demona growled, still between Tang's soldiers and the recovering feng shui masters.
"Hitokiri, as the Japanese put it," Tang said silkily. "An assassin who carved away the Shogunate and gave Meiji back his empire. A hero whose hands are stained in the blood of thousands... and whose loss will break the will of Meiji's army like a reed! The hitokiri, Battousai!" He laughed once, a sharp bark. "Or didn't you know who your friend truly was, Sagara?"
"Himura Kenshin," Sanosuke said levelly, watching Demona out of the corner of his eye as she paled. She knows-? The hell with not speaking Chinese! "The dragon of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. And the guy who's going to kick you, them, and all the goons you got posted around this place's asses all the way back to Tibet." He rolled his eyes at the soldiers. "Clue, guys. If you start running now, you might live a few hours longer."
"Run?" One of the burlier soldiers snorted. "Who do you think you're speaking to, scum of Japan?"
"Oh, I'm talking to a dead man," Sanosuke said levelly. "You just don't know it yet." He leaned back as much as the chains would allow. "I gotta admit, Tang, you've got guts. No brains, but guts. You're still standing here. After you got the most terrible man in the world... pissed at you."
"Brave words." Tang smirked, heading back outside. "But for all his terrible reputation, the famed hitokiri's an old, sick man. A used-up swordsman, who's vowed never to kill again. Only his legend makes him a danger."
"You keep thinking that!" Sanosuke called as a parting shot. Mustered his strength, and gave the sorcerers the nastiest grin he could manage as Dragonfly gathered up his fellow curse-casters and hurried out. Demona was last to leave, casting one more ferocious scowl his way as Tang's soldiers took up guard by the door.
Demona knows about Battousai. Sanosuke turned that thought over in his head, ignoring his new guards for right now. She knows, and he scares her to death.
Now, how can I use that?
----------
Battousai. Demona clenched her fists, denying memories of bloodstained midnights. It can't be. He was human - I thought he was human....
Yet Dragonfly's spell wouldn't lie to her.
"Who is this man?" Dragonfly pounced, the moment they were out of Sagara's earshot.
"Hitokiri Battousai," Demona gritted out. "The demon of Kyoto. Red hair, a cross-shaped scar on his cheek. Small and slight as a human girl, with a sword that moves too fast for the eye to see...."
And memory swept forward, carrying fear in its wake.
A few nights after pulling herself out of the river, Demona had perched on an alley wall, licking human blood from her talons as she watched crowds thin in Kyoto's night. The scent of cooking rice and spices mingled with the wet reek of the river and the sweet, burnt-leaf stench of some Shinsengumi's cigarette. A few snagged servants, a slashed throat or two - it'd been easy enough to determine the kappa bowl had been moved along with its owner.
Below her, the outermost perimeter guard coughed out the last red drops of his life.
"There he is!"
"Don't let him get away!"
Hmph. The humans were at it again. Two alleys away, it sounded like. Demona shrugged her wings off her shoulders, flexing violet skin to ready herself for the low glide to the roof, listening all the while. Running feet, the slice of steel through flesh... amusing, how fast they were to kill each other when they couldn't find gargoyles to torment.
But human murder wasn't important. What mattered was the bowl.
So she'd died. Twice. She'd died before. And in worse ways, when the Inquisition had once had its will. She wasn't about to give up on revenge that easily-
"He's cornered!"
"Hah! We've got you now, you murdering Choushuu bastard!"
Entertaining as it would have been to watch the slaughter behind her, she ignored the noise. No human could scale a ten-foot wall in the heartbeat it took her to bounce on talons, and leap-
As she leaned into the wind, there was an odd clarity of sound behind her; as if a rustle of silk that had been muffled by the alley wall had suddenly leapt high in clear air. What-?
Impact.
But there weren't any gargoyles in Kyoto, her dazed mind protested as a slim body struck her from behind, slamming them both forward and down through thick air. There weren't any gargoyles; how could she possibly have been hit from above?
"Oro?"
Snarling, Demona slashed over her shoulder-
To meet empty air.
Reflex snapped her wings closed and out of harm's way, but the street still blasted breath from her lungs. Vision blurred, red hair seeming to both wisp into her eyes and blur to a stop ten feet away over a gleam of steel....
Red hair tied back in a ronin's high ponytail, trailing over a blue Choushuu uniform, casting a cold amber gaze into shadows.
"I killed you."
Snarling, she charged.
He blurred.
Nine centuries roaming the nights had honed her combat skills. Demona sidestepped the slashing sword, doubled back, whipped out her tail in a move that had left untold hundreds on the ground, helpless and ready for slaughter.
And missed.
Wait - we're not alone-
Shinsengumi uniforms stepped out of the shadows, glistening with steel. A too-familiar smirk gleamed in the shadows, scented with the faintest touch of cigarette smoke. "So our trap caught two demons."
The redhead sheathed his sword, dropping into a stance that shivered threat down Demona's nerves. "Go back the way you came, or die."
"Not this night, Battousai!"
And the night was filled with steel.
Demona cursed as she killed, trying to tear her way free of this human entanglement. Let the humans slaughter each other, all she wanted was the bowl to kill them all-
Only Battousai wasn't letting her.
He's predicting my moves!
Every step she made, he was a step ahead; every leap was matched, every feint laid clear to Shinsengumi eyes by his countering shifts in stance. The assassin was using her, sure as any lord used hawk and hounds, to drive his prey the way he wished them to go-
A whisper of silk, and she crouched alone amid blood and bodies.
Or... not quite alone.
Wolfish eyes gleamed with something darker than hate, and more implacable than fury. "You made me lose him."
For the second time in a week, she woke in the river.
"I thought he was human," Demona said now, not bothering to hide her shiver. "After all, I'd seen-"
MacBeth.
"-Another human move with the strength and agility of a gargoyle," Demona said dispassionately. "Yet, now that I think on it... that human had been changed by magic as well." The Weird Sisters' curse had traded her age for MacBeth's youth, but he'd gotten some of her kind's strengths in the bargain. He might not be able to tear through stone with his bare hands, but a punch from him could lay out an ox.
Dragonfly let out a sigh of relief. "Then we have a chance."
"A chance?" A ruby glare narrowed.
The feng shui master smirked. "How are you at warding off demons?"
Slowly, Demona smiled.
----------
One foot in front of the other, Benkai thought hazily. He wasn't sure how long they'd been walking, or even where. The night had fogged with fever and pain; only Kaoru's hand clamped on his arm kept him going through the dark. Just one foot in front of the other....
A cool cloth brushed his brow. "He should stay back with us," Megumi said grimly.
"No." Battousai's voice was still cool, but it had a ragged edge that chilled Benkai more than amber eyes. "The farther away he is, the less I can protect him. Or you."
"We don't need protecting!" Misao protested.
"If it was swords, I'd agree with you." Benkai heard more than saw Kaoru's shudder. "But can't you feel it? Like leaning against a drawn blade...."
"Yes." Aoshi's tone was colorless. "We have to strike. As one."
Saitou growled low. "I know you can sense those guards, Shinomori. "
"We have no choice." The okashira's voice was beyond calm, into flat agony. "The moon is setting, and its darkness adds to the curse's power. Either the caster dies... or we do."
"So it's speed, then." Saitou was a blur in front of fevered eyes. "Enomouto. Forget fighting. Just keep up."
"I'll - try," Benkai whispered. "But... I don't know if I can...."
"You can." Kenshin's hand touched his arm, like a lick of sparks. "I brought you into this. I will bring you out safe."
Dry-mouthed, Benkai nodded. Dimly he registered the three men group together, discussing and discarding tactics with a wave of hand or curl of lips-
And they were running blind through the night, charging near-soundless into an empty clearing.
Or - not empty, Benkai realized, as dark figures seemed to appear out of nowhere and a spear lanced toward his heart. He dug sandals in and jerked aside, dodging through sheer luck. What- where - gods, what do I do? Bokken or no bokken, this man knew what he was doing with that spear. I don't know how to predict him, I can barely see him. I'm going to die...
He felt amber eyes touch him like fire-
And all of Tomi's lessons seemed to snap into place.
Forward thrust!
Benkai sidestepped, sliding under the spear, bringing his bokken across and up in one swift blow to the soldier's neck. His opponent dropped like a stone.
How...?
But there was no time to think; only to drift in that moving stillness the fever couldn't touch, striking and ducking and fighting to just breathe-
Blood.
Feint.
Flash of steel as a kunai lands in a soldier's eye.
Impact.
Head, head, shoulder - he's down!
There's less of them-
We're winning-
An all-too-familiar shriek split the air; Benkai ducked instinctively. A gargoyle?
But it was Battousai she'd targeted; he slipped aside like a ghost, leaving her talons to slash into hard ground-
And the gargoyle laughed.
Her claw-gash joined faint lines on the sandy earth, closing a circle that burned violet flames about them both. Battousai glanced, snarled, bolted-
Rebounded off spell-laced air as if he'd hit a steel wall.
And the fire, that welcome, changing fire that had carried Benkai like a crimson wave... vanished.
----------
Hot. So hot. Steel was heavier than it should be, weighing down Sano's wrists when he tried to wipe his brow. Determined to ignore the way the room wanted to spin around him, Sanosuke grinned tiredly at his guards. "So... any of you guys know how to play go?"
Silence.
"Sheesh, tough crowd...."
Wait a second. These guys were a little too quiet.
Matter of fact, it looked like they weren't even breathing.
The gargoyle cub leaped onto his shoulders, curling behind his neck, frizzed out to three times her size. "Hiss!"
What the-
And Sanosuke felt every last hair on his neck stand straight up, as three near-identical women in pale blue Chinese cheongsams appeared out of the shadows.
"The winds of fate have shifted about our tool, sisters," the blonde observed.
"Why did we not see this before?" the black-haired one inquired.
"She crossed a dragon's path," the white-haired sister said coolly. "They are... unpredictable."
"Her plan may yet succeed," Blonde noted.
Black's eyes narrowed. "Or it might fail."
"And both paths would tear her from our grasp," White stated. "Win, and she will bury her hate in her clan, and be useless to us. Fail... and she may truly die."
"That shall not be."
"Then we must interfere." Three sets of pupil-less eyes fixed on the feverish man in chains.
"Oh no," Sanosuke said bluntly. Please, let me just be sick. Hallucinating. Please. Anything but what I think these women really are. "No way, no how. I know what you are."
"He sees us," Blonde said, mildly amused.
"And he knows our nature," White added.
"As much as humans ever do." Black's lips curled.
"I know enough." Sanosuke felt the kitten quivering against him. Good idea. Now, who can I quiver behind? "You're youkai on human grounds. Nobody invited you here. Nobody bound you here. You can't touch me unless I ask you to." He swallowed dryly. "And I won't."
"So certain."
"So foolish."
"As mortals always are."
"Your friends are in mortal peril as we speak."
"And you are dying with them."
"Demona has trapped your dragon in a ward that blocks his magic. He is human."
"And she is gargoyle."
"And she will be his death."
"I don't believe you," Sano whispered.
"See for yourself." Blonde stroked the air, colors shimmering into shapes of night and blood.
----------
So dark!
Kenshin felt the tail slap against his ankle even as he tried to dodge; he fell, turned it into a roll, winced as talons scraped his ribs.
I can't feel her....
He fought not to shiver. Without the press of other, angry kis against his, he could recall too easily what he'd just done.
I had no choice. The Chinese spearmen, those few with swords; Kaoru and Megumi can defend themselves, and Benkai. Even the ninja who remain - Misao and Aoshi can defeat them.
But those were gunmen. They had to be stopped.
I had no choice.
It'd been so easy to take them with Saitou by his side. So easy to set loose the dragon, dancing around the Shinsengumi's earthbound wolf. So frighteningly easy, to look in the eyes of those who believed guns were superior to any sword... and cut them down like autumn grass.
You don't know. You can't know. You who believe China is the center of the world; how can you know?
Hiten Mitsurugi had been forged during the time of the Warring States. The era guns had first touched Japan, before Toyotomi's great sword-hunt and Tokugawa edicts had destroyed them all. Hiten masters had known what it was to face firearms. And they'd never, never let their students forget.
He could still taste the blood in the air.
But now the kis about him had vanished like stars behind clouds. He felt... blind. Everything was too dim, too quiet, too slow. Even the howl that was Battousai fighting for life was thin and faded, as if the fire of the hitokiri had been smothered under a woven-iron blanket.
Out!
Again, empty air repelled him.
"Don't bother." The red-haired demon he'd slain decades ago in Kyoto sneered at him, crouched and waiting. "Those wards are human magic."
Magic. He couldn't deny it. Not with the evidence before his own eyes.
I killed you....
Once swiftly, in passing, barely even registering her as monstrous; just another killer of Ishin Shishi to be dealt with. Once by omission, using one who would kill him as a living blind to slay his true enemies, then leaving her to Saitou's wrath. And yet again the night after, working in eerie harmony with Saitou for one brief instant when the howling demon had swept down on their duel.
No one kills him but me!
For one heart-stopping instant, Battousai had withdrawn his blade from the Shinsengumi's range, trusting the Captain of the Third Squad would not strike....
And steel had punched into flesh.
Disbelieving, the demoness had slid into death once more.
He'd looked at Saitou. Saitou had looked at him. Ishin Shishi and Shinsengumi blades hesitated, both dark with a monster's blood.
No fool, Battousai took the opening and bolted.
"Human magic and my own hate," the winged demon spat now. "No power of Oberon's Children can pass them."
"Oberon?" Kenshin panted.
"Shape-shifters. Changelings. Youkai, you call them-"
Only a sudden tension in her wings warned him. He dodged again, trying to draw on the speed that should be there-
Tearing pain in his shoulder told him it wasn't.
"How does it feel?" Demona flexed her claws to be sure he caught the glisten of blood in the moonlight, laughing soundlessly. "To be only human."
Human? Kenshin took the chance to breathe as she gloated, mind awhirl with confusion. His sword felt heavier than it should; his movements slow, clumsy, with none of the easy grace he'd reclaimed these past few days. Human. When I denied the hitokiri - I was human. I was at peace.
The sticky wetness of others' blood on his hands mocked him, pulling against his skin when he tried not to think.
I wanted peace. I wanted to be human, not a killer. I wanted to live, and love, and die in the world of Meiji; the world I gave so much to create. The time of hitokiri was past. I accepted that.
But I wasn't... whole....
"Why?" Kenshin asked raggedly. "Why have you done this? It has been decades since Kyoto-"
"Fool!" Her blue tail lashed; she coiled on herself, preparing to strike. "You truly believe this has anything to do with a petty human war?"
"Petty-!" An outraged Chinese voice snapped, cut short by the cold touch of Aoshi's kodachi under his chin.
"Call your soldiers off, Li Tang," the onmitsu leader said coolly. "We only want the curse-casters. No one else has to die."
"Shinomori Aoshi." The Chinese spymaster smiled coldly. "Our trap was better than we knew."
"You aim for Himura-san, hit us, and you think you set a good trap?" Misao muttered, kunai at the ready. "I did better when I was sixteen!"
"Strike if you dare," Tang sneered, staring into Aoshi's cold gaze. "My men have their orders. And you've seen what the masters can do to your magic. None of you will leave here alive-"
He jerked then, gloating wiped away in one slow slide into shock.
Saitou stepped back, blade wet and red. "Never invite a Miburo to kill you, spy."
No reaction, Kenshin thought coolly, weighing Demona's stance. He might not have his ki sense, but he still had eyes. Tang was no ally of hers. But still.... "End this now," he pleaded. "Have we not both seen enough death? I have left the government's service. Himura Kenshin is believed dead. Is that not what you wished?" Wakazashi sheathed, he held out an empty hand. "If there is still vengeance in your heart, bring it to me. Break the curse. Let these innocents go free."
"There are no innocents!" Eyes glowing like the pits of hell, she charged.
----------
That's Kenshin, Sanosuke thought, stunned. Shock cost him his balance; he clattered onto the floor, wincing as his palm landed on a bit of shattered chain left over from his aborted escape. Red hair, cross-shaped scar, the way he held a blade - it had to be Kenshin. But - he looks-
He looked like Demona was about to make rurouni cutlets out of him, that's what he looked like. "Damn it, Kenshin - stop playing with her and Ryuu Tsui Sen her ass!"
"Playing, he is not," Black said silkily.
A wave of White's elegant fingers shifted the glowing image's focus, to the knot of entranced curse-casters chanting in the next room. "So long as they hold the wards intact, the dragon is powerless."
"But you can save him," Blonde noted. "If you wish...."
Chains rattling as he got to his knees, Sano shook his head. "No."
"No?" A three-part chorus of amused disbelief.
"The choice is simple."
"Do as we wish, and they live."
"Refuse, and death will claim its own."
"No," Sano said firmly. Is there-? Yeah. Just enough give in these chains, so long as those guards are still out of it. "Whatever you want, whatever you're offering - no. I believe in Kenshin." Eyes still holding those inhuman gazes, he spat into his hands. "And like I said, I know what you are."
Arms still chained together, he threw.
Coated with human saliva, the shard of iron chain caught Blonde in the throat.
----------
A three-part scream tore through the night. Demona started at the sound, claws jerking just high enough for Kenshin to slide under her blow.
Training's still there, the swordsman thought clinically. I still know the sword. But I don't have the strength or speed for Hiten Mitsurugi-
And he laughed.
"Die!" Demona snarled. Talons slashed out-
Met steel, as violet eyes stared unflinching into crimson.
Upper block. Parry. Side block. Head, head, and flow left-
Yahiko wasn't the only one who could learn by watching.
"Katsujin-ken. Kamiya Kasshin Ryu." Kaoru's voice trembled. Her fist and bokken hit enspelled air, pounding against glowing violet. "Kenshin!"
"Swords that give life?" Demona leapt back, not even breathing hard as she studied his defensive stance. "You're an optimist, Battousai. Or a fool. A sword that defends without killing depends on weight of numbers, or outlasting your opponent." Her lip curled. "And no human can outlast a gargoyle."
"I did not believe one could, that I did not," Kenshin said softly. Performed a quick chiburi, and untied the saya from his obi to sheath his blade. The confines of the circle were tight... but his defense had won him just enough room. "Still, human or youkai...."
I am still myself. Still...
"Himura Kenshin."
Hitokiri Battousai.
The press of the saya against his left arm was familiar, comforting; the stance, instinctive as breathing.
"And when I say I'll kill you, all you can do is die."
----------
Battou-jutsu stance, Demona realized, hesitating. He can't possibly think he's fast enough!
She was a gargoyle, and he was human. Worse than human; a halfling of magic's blood, stripped of the power and speed such creatures had as their birthright. Weaker than she would be, suddenly cursed into human form.
He has no chance. But his life is bleeding away, and he knows it. Red lips curled into a cruel smile. Well, if you're so eager to die.... She leaped.
Blur of steel - but he's human, not-
Pain.
Blood in her mouth.
An icy sharpness in her neck.
"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Battou-jutsu."
Pain.
A sickening slide of steel out of her throat.
"I spent fifteen years with a sakabatou," Battousai's cold voice said as the world faded away. "Compensating for a slower draw."
"But-" Demona fought for the words. This could not be. "You're human...."
"Demon, human, rurouni... hitokiri wa hitokiri." Warm and sticky with blood, gentle hands brushed her hair from her face. "I would I could wish you peace."
----------
A/N: Oberon's Children are affected by iron. Youkai aren't; at least no more than any non-supernatural creature would be. But according to some of the Japanese folklore I've read, they can be poisoned by human spit. So Sano just got lucky.
shugyosha - student warrior.
Ma chroidh - Gaelic, "my heart".
kunai - throwing knives.
chiburi - flicking blood from the blade.
saya - sheath.
