Disclaimer: sigh It not that I don't want to own Rurouni
Author's Note: I AM SO SORRY! I really did have this chapter written much earlier, but the fates were against me! I had to get my laptop repaired (my logic board croaked) and in the process they replaced my hard drive. After an excruciatingly long period of laptop depravation I got my baby back and, to my utter horror, EVERYTHING was gone! I lost a good twenty pages. This is actually only half of the deceased chapter but I wanted to post it as soon as possible. Also, sorry for any grammatical errors but my beta and I are currently having minor issues :glares at Erin:. I'm seeing about getting a new one so just ignore any errors in this chapter for the time being.
Italics character thoughts
Bold Italics past conversation being remembered
llllllllllllllll my creative break lines (QuickEdit hates me)
Crimson Tide
Chapter 3: Calm Before The Storm
Sanosuke grunted irritably. If he had to spend one more minute in Megumi's clinic he would break something. Sanosuke was known for many things. Patience was not one of them.
"Oi, kitsune! How long do you planning on keeping me here!"
Megumi dipped her hands in a water basin and scrubbed vigorously, washing off an ocher herbal residue that coated her skin. Finished, she pressed her hands against her pristine apron and then raised them for an inspection.
"Megumi," Sano hissed. "I'm getting tired of this game."
Megumi merely frowned at her hands. The herbal balm had stained them yellow.
"Damn it woman, I'm talking to you!"
Megumi raised a yellow hand to tuck back a stray wisp of hair that had escaped from her makeshift bun. Arching a delicate eyebrow, she merely gave her trademark fox smile.
"Sano, I suggest you relax. You're probably going to be here for a while."
"How much fucking paralysis powder DO YOU HAVE?"
"More than you can image, Tori-ama."
"Oi! Where are you going? Get back here!"
Megumi let out her trademark cackle before shutting the door. She couldn't let Sanosuke's temper tantrum disturb her other patients now, could she?
In truth, Sanosuke's outrage was somewhat appropriate. It had been two days since the night he had come staggering, half dead, to the clininc's door. Sanosuke had healed since then, but Megumi refused to let him check out.
It's not as if you aren't justified. You know what he would do.
Megumi nodded in affirmation. She did know what he would do. Sanosuke had been kind enough to announce his plans to her in a doped slur. He had loudly proclaimed that he would Futae no Kiwami a certain gambling house to hell and back. Needless to say, at the time he was in no state to carry out such a threat and Megumi did what any reasonable doctor would do…she drugged him.
Of course, that was yesterday. Sanosuke was more than healed to smash whatever he wanted. That is, if he could move.
Megumi was no fool. Especially when it came to opium.
She knew from personal experience that when came to drug rings, anything uncovered was only the tip of the iceberg. Whoever drugged Sanosuke had a web that ran far deeper than some puny gambling house and any rash action on the Zanza's part would only kill the stem of the weed, not the roots.
Try telling the Tori-ama that.
Megumi did not plan on telling Sanosuke. At least not yet. She would continue to drug him. She had already contacted the Oniwabanshuu. They would be here soon.
Of all people, Aoshi knew of her history with Kanryu.
Whoever was in charge of this, wherever they were…she would bring them down
This would be her redemption.
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"One bowl of plain hot soba? That's a pretty miserable lunch isn't it, Saitou-san."
Hajime Saitou broke his chopsticks apart with a clean snap. The sound ringing clearly in the darkened recess of the dingy restaurant.
"I've been told that before." Saitou's chopsticks vanished under a steaming mass of thick buckwheat noodles. "I like plain hot soba. And right now, the name is Fujita."
The youth sighed and slid in the opposite seat. The initiation into the police force never included the fact he might one day be paired with one of Mibu's most brooding wolves.
"Fujita it is." The young man began scanning the menu. Resigning himself to his fate, he attempted to lighten the already oppressive mood. "Perhaps I should get an alias."
The taller officer gave an audible snort.
"No need. No one knows the name Iwasaki Osamu." Saitou raised the bowl and drank deeply. "The soba is excellent."
"I'm afraid I don't share your appreciation of soba." Osamu's placed the menu down and messaged his temple. "Sake?"
"I'm afraid I don't share your appreciation of sake," A wolfish glint appeared in Saitou's eyes. "Or at least not in a manner condoned by the Meiji era."
Osamu stared at the pragmatic man quietly eating his soba. There was and always would be an unnerving quality to Saitou Hajime. The Shinsengumi's third division captain was an anachronism in the Meiji era, a part of Edo that did not belong.
"What do you have?"
Osamu repressed the urge to sigh. He had no earthly idea how Toki dealt with this man. Saitou really had no need for his trademark sarcasm; his apparent apathy in conversations was insulting enough.
"I have made copies of several arms shipping transactions." Osamu slid a folder across the table. "Most are from Nagasaki."
Osamu waited for a response from Saitou. Meet with only silence, he decided to continue. Clearing his throat, the young officer attempted to keep his voice level.
"The firearms transactions are well recorded. No inconsistencies in the accounts. It's the opium profits that bother me."
Osamu paused again for Saitou.
The wolf merely nodded for him to continue, the glint of his eyes trained sharply on the novice before him.
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"You mean to tell me it's not done?"
A heavy tension lay thick over the occupants of Takechi Reijirou's office. The rice paper walls, simple in the traditional style, quivered slightly as if unable to hold the tension that seethed with in. Three men occupied the room, one of which demonstrated extreme discomfort at being under Reijirou's scathing glare. Only one man maintained a uniform calm. A fact which could be attributed to his being the only one in the room not under interrogation.
Kurosawa Noboru cleared his throat delicately. "Takechi-sama, the second target was not there."
"Why?" Reijirou stated coolly.
Noboru gripped his knuckles with an audible crack. Reijirou, while normally a strong and charismatic leader possessed a notorious temper. Noboru never knew what would set the man off.
"Haruhime most likely expected an attack on her life," Noboru inhaled sharply. "And hid those closest to her."
Reijirou turned suddently. Gripping the sides of the low table, Noboru's face was obscured by his bangs as he tilted his head downwards. To say he was scared would be an understatement
"Kurosawa," Reijirou's voice was flat and betrayed nothing. "I do not accept failure. Find and eliminate the target."
Noboru exhaled audible. He had been given a second chance, which was more than most were given. Noboru wasn't sure how, but his failure had not incurred Reijirou's wrath.
Bowing politely, Noboru exited the room while he still could.
"Now," Reijirou turned his attention to the remaining one. "We have matters to discuss."
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Stupid.
Hajime Saitou's eye's darkened as they followed the officer's retreating form. Iwasaki Osamu, a young idealistic man who believed in the bright ideals of the Meiji government.
Foolish.
They were the new generation. The optimistic youth who trusted in all sincerity the abundance promised in the deemed golden age. Dazed infants blinded by the ideology of the institution, rendered dumb by their need to trust and rely on something greater than themselves. This was the generation that believed in the ability of change. The ability for people to change.
Naïve.
This was the Rurouni's age. An age that believed that reality is what one makes of it; that the surrounding world is only the story told by each other. That truth can change. A generation that passed off the harsher functions of justice embodied in the katana.
People never change.
Saitou smiled.
Governments were inescapably corrupt. Humans were inherently selfish. Strife was not something that could not be displaced by new ideology.
Aku, Soku, Zan.
People had just changed their perception of truth. Reality itself had not changed. Iwasaki Osamu would find that out soon enough.
"We don't have enough information. The Kaientai is funding something and I intend to find out." The young undercover agent stood up to leave. "An accountant just died under auspicious circumstances. I intend to take his place."
"I have no time for idiots." Saitou's eyes creased in upward crescent moons as he smiled. "Just remember, your impatience will get you killed."
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Kaoru watched Soujirou warily as she deftly fingered the hem of her yukata.
So this is the Tenken.
She had heard stories from Sanosuke, mainly when he was drunk, of this young man. Misao had only built on these stories, less elaborate than Sanosuke's drunken ramblings but impressive nonetheless. Soujirou was Shishio's best. Soujirou was a demon, a smiling child who broke Kenshin's Sakabatou. Soujirou was faster than Kenshin, had almost killed him.
Kaoru hands twisted the hapless material harder.
Watching Soujirou flash across the yard, she understood everything she had been told. Kenshin also blurred by, disappearing and reappearing to strike and block with fluid thrusts.
"Leave the yukata alone, Busu. It doesn't look that awful on you."
Yahiko plopped down on the porch beside her, giving the now torn hem of her sleeve a peculiar expression before turning his gaze to his sparing idol. Getting to watch Kenshin spar was a rare occurrence. The Rurouni seemed more inclined to do the laundry than to brush up on his Hiten Misurugi.
Although maybe being an assassin at fourteen was all the practice one needed.
"I'm sorry about today's training, Yahiko."
Kaoru couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. When Soujirou had approached Kenshin about using his skills as a swordsman to protect life, Kaoru was all to eager to help. Not surprisingly Kenshin, the eternal worrywart, would not hear of Kaoru sparing with the Tenkan. He did suggest, however, that Kaoru monitor the sparing match and suggest any ways in which the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu could be implemented into Soujirou's form. She had completely forgotten about Yahiko.
Of course, judging by the way Yahiko was watching Kenshin, missing practice was not the foremost thing on the boy's mind.
"We can train tonight in order to catch up…"
There was no response from Yahiko.
For some reason Kaoru found something distinctly unnerving in the way the boy did not answer her.
"If that doesn't work," She continued, "We could always extend tomorrow's practice a few hours…"
Kaoru waited for some response from Yahiko, distantly noting that his ignoring her had failed to spark her temper but instead made something in her stomach twist. Hinging on a response that did not seem forthcoming, Kaoru nudged her student.
"Are you even listening?"
"I'm trying not too!" Yahiko swatted Kaoru's prodding hand away. "Can't you see I'm doing something more important?"
The familiar swell of warmth that accompanied Kaoru's temper flushed through her veins. Any unease that had gnawed at the kenjutsu instructor before was submerged under the sudden bout of warmth that begged for Kaoru to pull out a bokken and beat Yahiko into oblivion.
"What could be more important than your own training?"
Yahiko suddently turned and gave Kaoru a look of impatience that only agitated whatever was bothering her more.
"You don't get it do you?" The boy rolled his eyes. "You can't teach me what I'm learning by watching them."
Yahiko, in turning back to watching his idol spar, failed to see the way his teacher paled at his last comment.
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A doctor was trained in resolve.
A level head and steady hand were necessary in such a precarious profession. Lives hung in the balance. Panic was not allowed.
Megumi called on that resolve now.
The Western clock adorned the wall behind Aoshi. The shiny lacquer of the case housing the swinging pendulum that kept the time with even sounds. Constant in its markers, the jarring tick of the seconds amplified in volume like approaching footsteps. Megumi's hands quivered as she fought from shaking.
How long had it been since Kanryu's estate? When was the threshold to freedom crossed? When had Aoshi stopped being her captor?
Megumi trembled. She did not think she could look at this man any other way but with fear. Kanryu was dead. Aoshi had no reason to threaten her, to hurt her. She had long since been free. But Aoshi still terrified her in a way no other could.
Megumi felt like screaming. Seconds seemed to languidly stretch into infinite hours. She had no concept of how long she had been sitting across form the stoic man. All she could feel was the innate fear of him. A fear founded on a past that haunted her present.
"The Oniwabanshuu will look into this."
Megumi closed her eyes in relief at his statement.
She felt like crying.
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The day continued with unprecedented weather, the temperature reaching heights that had not been seen in years. The air simmered in the heavy heat. The oppressive heat weighing heavy on the occupants of Kyoto, draining their energy and leaving them listless in the sweltering weather. To hot to function, the hustle and bustle of the city had retreated indoors for cooler temperatures and left the streets empty.
In the yard of the Aoiya, Okina lay reclined against a gnarled tree truck. Shifting slightly, the old man paused at the loudness of his movements in the heavy silence.
Okina frowned. There was a foreboding quality to the unnatural stillness in the air.
"The calm before the storm…" he murmured softly.
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A/N:
Just be patient with me! I promise things will get back on the track of murder and mayhem soon enough!
Sorry there wasn't nearly as much Kenshin in this portion of the chapter but don't worry, the focus of things is going to shift to our favorite redhead soon enough (let him enjoy the peace while he still can). Sorry for those of you who have been enjoying the Sano Megumi screen time but the rest of the Kenshin-gumi is getting impatient (S&M are already in this mess, now its time to suck the rest of the characters in). Hmphhh! The Kenshin-gumi aren't the only ones getting impatient. I want to skip straight to the meaty stuff! This is the problem with having plots. You actually have to lay story foundations before you can write about all the exciting stuff! What on earth possessed me to incorporate a plot in this story is beyond me.
As always, please hit that review button as hard as you can! Remember, nothing cures a lazy writer's procrastination like a good review!
Glossary:
Kitsune – Fox. Saitou and Sano's nickname for Megumi.
Tori-ama – Rooster head. Megumi's nickname for Sanosuke.
Soba - Thin brown buckwheat noodles, usually cooked and served with various toppings and condiments. One of Saitou's favorite foods . Kudos to anyone who recognized the opening line of Saitou's restaurant scene.
Aku Soku Zan – Kill evil instantly, slay evil immediately, ect. I shouldn't even have to list that one.
Tenken – Sword of Heaven
Busu – Ugly/Hag. Yahiko's manner of insult- er addressing Kaoru.
Bokken – Japanese wooden sword