WARNING: Spoilers! If you don't know who Kenji is, please read at your own risk! POSSIBLE CHARACTER DEATH AT END OF STORY.
WITH DUE CREDIT: This fic was loosely spun off from two fics - "Over the Sting" by sasori and "Chronicles of a Rurouni", one of my earlier fics.
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Yesterday's Shadow is Tomorrow's Twilight
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Chapter 53: Undead
"You won't be able to deal with us with just that one sword of yours," Zheng confidently stated, pointing a finger at Enishi. And true to her claims, before Enishi could say something smart-ass in reply, she whistled sharply, pinching her lower lip with her fingers. The shrill alarm seemed to reach everywhere, for in the next second, legions and legions of masked Yuugure men seemed to evaporate in from the most secret passages of the room. From the walls, to the ceilings, to even from under the tiles.
Enishi was only mildly interested. He waited until the last Yuugure underling apparently slipped into the room, and watched as they slowly formed a circle around him, each with a favoured weapon, bladed, forked, barreled or otherwise.
"The principle of leaving no stone unturned was what you taught us," Zheng sneered in a triumphant little voice. "It may seem like a bit of overkill to order so many people to take you down, but it was necessary to ensure your demise. Good day/lao da," she saluted, then attended to Ming and started to lead him down a secret door.
Enishi had, by this time, finished assessing the predicament he was in. This was evidenced by his looking up and pining both Ming and Zheng with his cold, hard glare. "Do you really think you could trick me with the illusions I taught you?" At this, the duo trying to sneak away jumped slightly in surprise, but said and did nothing. Enishi slowly raised his sword. "You'd both better be bloody far away when I'm done here, because unlike my childish partner, I hold nothing back in the name of mercy."
He swiped at the first man who dared fire a gunshot at him, defecting the bullet and sending it ricocheting against the wall. It stopped bouncing when it hit someone in the flesh, evoking a soulful cry of pain from the victim.
Zheng laughed, half out of fear and half out of agitation. "Seta Soujirou is dead!" She exclaimed indignantly.
"Hah," Enishi nonchalantly kicked someone who had gotten too close to him in the face. "Injured: likely, dismembered: probably, bruised in several places: believable, maimed in vital areas: highly possible. And all because he's too wishy-washy to say no. But oh," he flicked his sword and defected yet another bullet, "if you ever do let me find out that you have somehow rendered him disabled, make /sure/ you /never/ show youselves before me again," the sudden rush of cold, murderous aura he unleashed was strong enough to knock many unsteady and frightened men off their feet. "I won't be responsible for what happens to you after that."
"Save those wise words for yourself!" Zheng rebutted, but her voice was already shaking. It was not the first time she had had to face her ex-leader's wrath. And she really hoped that it would be the last. "On him, men!" She screeched, then vanished behind the secret door quickly and quietly.
Her timely command appeared to wake the many men up from their trance-like admiration of Enishi's ability to defect rapid bullets with just a sword. They moved into a certain formation, but Enishi did not even bother to glance at them.
He slowly unholstered one of the short guns he had hijacked from the stores he had visited prior to coming here. There was no fanfare in his actions. If anything, he checked and examined the contraption slowly and deliberately, very much unlike someone surrounded from all sides would do.
Finally, he looked up sharply, in a certain direction. There was a mass of people gathered there, possibly wondering what he was up to. He took aim, ignoring the startled and flustered looks on the people's faces. They had obviously not been told that their enemy would have a gun as well. Pulling the safety on the gun, Enishi smirked.
And he fired.
There was no painful holler, for the bullet whizzed through the mass of people gathered there - as if they were never there in the first place. It passed through their bodies like it was passing through mere thin air, and all eyes were upon the travelling bullet in mild horror and fascination. The thing eventually reached its target undisturbed.
It struck a portion of one of the white walls. Or, what was supposed to be a white wall. The white wall portion shattered into a million little mirrored glass fragments, falling and scattering onto the ground with melodious tinkering and some mild cracking sounds.
This action alone immediately eliminated one third of the men who were surrounding Enishi. They flickered, then vanished into thin air - gone because the media which was channeling them had just been destroyed.
In the next moment, Enishi fired four more shots, obliterating the rest of the hidden mirrors in the room and reducing what was previously at least one hundred men in the room to five, excluding himself. "Much better!" He nodded. "A hundred against one was a bit too hitting below the belt, even for me. Not to mention the mirrors were really starting to get on my nerves." He blew the smoke that was steaming up from through its barrel coolly away.
Then he grinned maniacally at his opponents, the majority of which were already shaking in their knees. "Okay, I have one last bullet left in this gun," he politely informed them. "Who wants to be the first to go?"
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Zheng flung open the doors to the innermost chamber in the labyrinth, flustered and panting. She guided a very quiet Ming in, then shut the doors, bolting it tightly and testing desperately that they were locked. Satisfied with her conclusion, she turned to find that Ming had already seated himself down on one of the lavish couches spread around the spacious room. This was probably one of the only rooms in the labyrinth which had a proper roof that was not otherwise open or riddled with holes, therefore granting the dweller a certain measure of comfort from the ravages of nature.
Nature, of course, was possibly the last thing on either of the mafia's minds at the moment.
"He won't find us here," Zheng informed, slipping back into her native tongue. Straightening herself and her sleeves, she walked to where Ming sat, mulling over his own thoughts. "We designed this particular room with new formulas that he does not know about."
"That is not what I am worried about, Zheng," the quiet man finally spoke up. "Tell me, who is this 'Seta Soujirou' the both of you kept talking about?"
"You have already made his acquaintance," Zheng explained. "He is the young sounding fellow who guided us around Hiko's hut the other time."
"I see," Ming continued pondering over something. "Lao da seems to care for him. Much more than for us at any rate."
"You finally see my point, Ming!" Zheng exclaimed in relief. "You see! Yukishiro does not care about us! So there is no need for us to continue fighting in his name. You should stand up and claim the throne for yourself! Then we can"
"Enough, Zheng," Ming quietly admonished. "I am thinking that perhaps lao da is right. Perhaps I have really been blinded, not just in the eye, but by power as well."
Zheng was immediately indignant. "You fought for your position and you deserve to stand where you are standing now!"
"But you forget," Ming said. "We will not be standing, if he had not given us a hand back then."
Zheng looked to a side, silent.
"Tell me," Ming continued seamlessly, "what we can do to get lao da back to our side."
Zheng resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Knowing the temper of her superior, however, she wisely kept her comments about this matter to herself. With an evil smirk that she knew Ming could not see, she leaned over, putting what seemed like a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She asked, "Will you do whatever it takes?"
"Of course!" Ming stated confidently. Foolishly.
"Then you will fire at Kyoto with the cannons at once," Zheng immediately commanded, although still in a submissive tone. When she saw Ming's look of apprehension, she explained, "It is rather obvious that this nation he once hated has now become something of sentimental value to him. No matter how much he seems nonchalant or unattuned to the mere idea, the truth will always be true. If we can somehow make his objects of sentimental value turn against him, then he will come back to us - so long as we remain his loyal supporters throughout this whole ordeal." Her evil grin stretched wider across her face, but Ming simply nodded with agreement at her double-edged words.
"How do suggest we turn these objects of sentimental value against him, then?" Ming asked, seemingly falling for the plan.
"We wipe out his entire company," Zheng's voice was sweet, but her face was sinister. "Then we take on Japan. And then we find someway to prove to these people that /lao da/ was wholly responsible for everything that happened. They will turn against him," there was a glint of satisfaction in Zheng's eyes at her plans, "and we will be glad to have him back." The expression on her face, however, said something else entirely.
Ming raised a rather doubtful eyebrow. He could feel that Zheng was indeed emanating a rather serious aura, but there was something not quite right about it. At the same time, his desire to see his former leader restored to him overrode any form of sensibility he had left from since his last encounter with Enishi. "Very well," Ming gestured. "Since you already seem to have an idea of where we are heading, you may do as you wish."
"Yes, sir," Zheng was happy to respond.
But before the duo could celebrate their new plan, a small chuckle - a voice that was neither Ming's nor Zheng's - broke out from a shadowy corner of the room. Both of them immediately turned in that direction, aghast that they were not aware there was anyone else in the room until the chuckling. As they watched on, a familiar figure stepped into the lighted area and made his presence known with a bright, giddy smile.
"Hello everybody!" Soujirou waved happily. "I couldn't help but overhear your entire conversation just now, since you guys were so comfortable in my presence to speak about your plans of world domination as if I wasn't here at all! But not to worry! My knowledge of the Chinese language is so limited that I could not understand what in the world you were talking about! Your plans remain safe!"
"Seta Soujirou!" Zheng screeched, as if she had just seen a ghost. "How...how are you still alive!"
"Aww, that's a little too harsh, don't you think?" Soujirou walked closer. "I /like/ being alive quite well, thank you very much," he grinned. "Though I'm not too sure," he stepped completely into the lighted area of the room, and the eager gleam on the blade of his sword could now be seen in its full glory, "if you feel the same way I do."
That was all they saw and heard of Soujirou's introduction. Without a trace of where he could have gone to, Soujirou vanished from before the duo.
"Ming, he's gone!" Zheng whispered quietly but urgently to her leader, who nodded to indicate that he was aware. Before he could answer her and tell her what to do, the floor beside him suddenly exploded into a foot-sized crater, causing him to follow his instincts immediately, pushing Zheng to one side while throwing himself to the other.
After their separation, they quickly got onto their feet, surprised and flustered at the suddenly ferocity of attack. Soujirou blurred slowly into view as the smoke dissipated. He stood in a half crouch, his sword buried in the floor - the solid, hard-packed floor that was not made of wood or any of its derivatives - half its length having went right through during his attack.
He stood, pulling the sword out of the floor effortlessly, and he hopped backwards three steps so he could see the duo in one glance. The blunt side of the sword rested on his shoulder. He smiled at his audience. Wordlessly, he started hopping on one foot.
"Who are you?" Ming finally asked, amazed beyond words.
"Oh, my name? My name is Seta Soujirou! But you already know that. Pleased to meet you again!" Soujirou sang out, and upon his last word, vanished into thin air one more time. It was all Ming could do, to draw out one of the swords decorating the room's wall and deflect Soujirou's cunningly strong attack, which, if it had hit, would have costed Ming his entire left leg.
For long moment, Ming had to use his full strength to get control of the flow of the situation. Once he found slight control, he used the chance to throw Soujirou away, taking a step back from the sheer energy he had to use. Before he even had a chance to catch his breath, however, Soujirou found his ground, and burst forward in yet another lightning fast attack. Ming quickly sidled himself against the wall, so that only the side that held the sword met Soujirou head-on. He swung the sword in his hand forward, knowing where Soujirou was about to strike by the direction of the wind.
There was a loud clashing sound, followed by the screech of a metal blade being broken into two.
Ming held his sword up, agape. He could not see, but he could feel that his sword had suddenly gotten two times lighter. The blade that had broke was his sword's, and he could not help but marvel at how it could have happened. He travelled far and wide to collect the best, strongest, sturdiest swords the world had to offer. A common thug could not have broken it so easily with a generic sword.
Perhaps his opponent was not so common after all.
Soujirou had overshot Ming, having rushed at the man for the last attack at a rather high speed. He stopped, turned and prepared to take the opportunity of Ming's surprise over his broken blade to finish his job of capturing the mafia leader before Enishi found them; boy was Enishi going to throw a hissy fit about inefficiency again if Soujirou took too long to do this. Just as he was about to move forward, however, he sensed something fast and small coming towards him, aimed directly at his right temple. His eyes narrowed, and while he did push himself off his feet to dash, instead of going forward, he went backwards.
The rain of bullets that embedded themselves into the wall in front of him informed him as to what a smart choice he had just made.
Ming did not need to be told what to do. He moved, and was quickly back in the immediate presence of Zheng again. The girl was throwing away the handgun she had just been using. She whipped out a new one from the large box beside her, a smirk on her face. Pulling the safety, she lifted the gun above her head, then slowly lowered it so that the barrel now looked at Soujirou eye to eye.
"I don't know how you managed to escape the wall spike sandwich," she began, "but it doesn't matter. You will die here and now, and then we will bring your bloody corpse out to Yukishiro." She laughed to herself at this point of time. "And then maybe he will learn a thing or two."
"Somehow I highly doubt that." Soujirou disagreed with a grave and wise tone of voice. But he put his sword back into its sheath, pulling the entire weapon out from the drawstrings of his hakama. "But let's see who will be the one to learn a thing or two, shall we?" He tilted his head, welcoming the challenge.
A vein throbbed on Zheng's forehead. She gave a roar of anger and frustration.
After which, for a while, nothing but gunpowder and flying bullets could be heard, rattling across the walls of the room, breaking up the floor and riddling the ceiling with holes.
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... to be continued
16/3/05
tougenkyou . net / xd
My dream of finishing it at 55 is to be shattered before my eyes. ;.;x let's try for 60 instead! whee!