Past and Future By Hitokiri-san
A/N: Thanks for all that reviews last chapter, I can even see my old friends black there again...eyes watering and of course, some new reviewers! I'm busying to death at the moment (tests tomorrow and on Thursday, drama competition up ahead...argh) so I'm posting it up lest I got more busy and forgot about it. I'll make up the re-reviews next chapter, ok? This can be said as a slightly longer chapter, but sorry; serious actions will be in next chap.
Ch 14 When Escape part our ways
There was only one word to describe Kyoto, especially at nights. Especially at starless nights,
It was a damned dizzying maze.
Kenshin leapt down the rooftop with catlike grace, alert that Okita Souji was hot on their tail. Battousai kept close to his side, dragging the other Ishin spy – Takehashi's sidekick – along. Both kept their silence as they sped through yet another alleyway, keeping an eye out for the formidable Shinsengumi captain.
Footsteps came around them, both in front and behind; both Himuras had the dark impression of what was going to happen next.
Pursuers back behind, Shinsengumi enforcement right in front; and though Battousai didn't bother to mention it, the Ishin spy was dragging his speed down.
If they didn't do anything soon, they would most likely find themselves trapped.
Battousai turned to his older counterpart, soundlessly pointing out that worry. He could feel a number of openly hostile ki congregating from different directions, targeting them. Leave it to the Shisengumi to assemble enforcement at a moment's notice.
Those ki didn't exactly trouble him, though; Battousai had no doubt that he could take down a couple of men without killing them. What worried him was ... what if these men had memorized...or simply seen his appearance at all? This would cause a premature exposure of his identity – he was not sure if this would affect later events, but then...
Better not take the risk.
He considered tearing his gi for a makeshift mask, but that wouldn't exactly work – for one, howexactly was he going to tear his gi while sprinting and dragging another person along?
And there was Okita back there, following patiently – out of sight yet never far away, waiting for the perfect opportunity to bare his wolfish fangs...
Battousai listened to the steady pounding behind his ribcage, thinking hard. He must admit that the situation was no less bleak than what they'd encountered before -surrounded, targeted, capable yet unable to eliminate their enemies.
If things carry on like this, we may find ourselves bumping into Saitou... Lavender eyes closed for a brief moment, trying to grasp the mysterious sense that gave him this idea. None came into his mind, but he put it in words anyway.
"Saitou's around." He stated, training his eyes on the dark path ahead. Those silhouettes ahead...were they enemy enforcements or mere shadows? Even with his enhanced eyesight he couldn't be sure. But one thing he was sure of: they needed to get out of there, and quick.
"Aa." Came a terse from the rurouni, who narrowed deep violet orbs in sudden decision, "at the next crossroad, we part. I'll meet you back at the headquarters." He arched a meaningful eyebrow at their third acquaintance – the spy, then turned away in a fleeting second. Battousai understood without words what he was trying to say. The rurouni had no wish to embarrass the spy by questioning his combat skills; but fact was fact, protecting the undercover from harm was now Battousai's priority. As for Kenshin – he would be the one to distract Okita and Saitou.
It was the most dangerous task ever, taking on both formidable wolves at once; but as it was, there was never much choice to begin with.
Battousai bit down an instinctive desire to point out the peril. He knew, deep down, that if given the authority to choose, he would make the same decision – now that the rurouni had made up his mind, it was impossible to alter his decisions. They hadn't really much time for bickering, either.
The hitokiri stole a glance at his resolute counterpart, worry surfacing in his features. It was almost unsettling to part with Kenshin the first time since the Time accident, but now that situation called...
"Daijoubu." The three syllables registered in Battousai's mind as he skidded to an abrupt halt, then dartingninety degrees down the immediate rightward road to his side. He listened as the footsteps of his older "sibling" faded into distance.
And an unfathomable feeling of dread found its way into his heart.
Kenshin slowed his god-like speed to a complete stop, brows creasing he assessed his disconcerted feeling once more. It wasn't something of pressing danger, not so fast; but for all he knew, it might serve as a prelude to threats that would happen in time.
There were usually two causes for this...wariness; one, he himself was about to be in danger. Two, his counterpart was about to face life-risking situations. He hadhad this same feeling when he was in Tasuka Yashiro's headquarters. Back then, he couldn't decide if this feeling was for himself or for Battousai.
Neither could he this time.
He just hoped it had something to do with him rather than with the young hitokiri – the boy had already had enough trouble to last him a lifetime.
Ridding himself of worried thoughts, he began casting his ki around the area.
Tonight, he would be the Miburos' bait.
"You alright?"
Battousai continued his silent journey through the shadow-laden streets, blending into the darkness as if he was part of it. He frowned upon hearing his companion's ragged, uneven breath. Well, he himself should be the one on the receiving end of this question; for it was truth that the young hitokiri wasn't anywhere near "alright". The sight of several kunai embedded in Takehashi's body...the sickly, metallic scent of blood...the thick, obscene liquid gushing from the young spy's wound...it was too much, far too much than he could ever take in.
The scene alone...had aroused something in the manslayer's memory, something so sinister and powerful he had done anything he could to shove it away. It hung on anyway, like a leech under the fur of a weak animal, feeding slowly on his brittle sanity...he found himself staring up to the heavens, just like he did the first time his katana tasted blood.
The moon was a crimson ball as it always was, in the blood-washed city of Kyoto.
The boy pressed an arm-guarded hand to his temple, rubbing gently. This did not help to ease the consistent feeling of unease stirring in his head; he knew, from instincts, that the sensation had something to do with looming danger – which probably meant a duel-to-the-death with a couple of Shinsengumi, Saitou and Okita included.
He seriously hoped that it wouldn't be happening anywhere near his dear rurouni.
"Hai, Himura-san." Was the resolved answer as the young Ishin spy rubbed his sore arms, out of breath but in the meantime grateful. He wondered how Takehashi was doing now, how he was going to deal with the injury...the scene back there had him literally out of wits. After all, Takehashi was right about him; he was green and fragile, green in a sense that no one would expect him a spy – not even top samurai such as Saitou or Okita. For his ki would never flare as strongly as skilled spies (such as Takehashi himself) would, therefore could save the effort of masking it; to the likes of Saitou and Okita, such a weak ki would emanate no danger – that was logical thinking.
But such naiveté came at a price. That is, the Ishin spy could never learn kenjutsu or other defensive skills properly.In situations like this, he would crave for his own fighting skills; he hated being some other person's burden or hindering that person in any way.
" Matsukaze spy-san, I wouldn't space out right here if I were you." The manslayer reminded his companion none-too-gently, cautiously skimming the area for any signs of life. Without his ability to sense ki, his superhuman sight was probably the second best thing – but to the hitokiri, it was not sufficient enough.
"So you recognized me from the start, Himura-san." The Ishin spy held a wan smile.
Battousai shrugged, sparing him a glare. "I am not blind.The shy, young man who seldom says more than a couple of words...the same man who witnessed Ken...tai and I lying in a floor's worth of debris, then turned tail and ran...those are not things that one can easily forget."
"You have an excellent memory, Himura-san. How often have you heard my name...maybe twice since I joined the Ishin?"There was a faintly sarcastic edge to the spy's words.
"I havenever expected you a spy, Matsukaze. So...I take it you areKatsura-san's antenna in the Shinsengumi." Battousai commented, reasonably calm as he led the other spy on. They remained in alert silence as they sprinted through street after street, careful to avoid their pursuers.
Twenty minutes ticked away uneventfully; it seemedthat Kenshin's distracting plan had succeeded. Lowering his guard the slightest bit, Battousai allowed himself to take a deep breath...
Only to realize his foolishness in doing that.
"So here you are." A foreboding voice drawled from among the shades, drawing Battousai to his guard. Pulling Matsukaze behind his back, Battousai watched as twenty or so Shinsengumi guards poured out from inside buildings, blocking his way. It took only a sideward glance to know that their escape route had, likewise, been cut off.
Kuso, he just knew that sight alone wasn't enough to serve his purpose.
And there were those dark-suited strangers accompanying the Shinsengumi...
Battousai did not necessarily comprehend what those people were, but he did recognize the metallic tubes in their grasps.
Chikusho, and they have guns... the boy cast his eyes to the light sources held by the Shinsengumi, promptly formulating a plan. He couldn't have them see his face; it wouldn't do for history to make another ugly turn because of his negligence. Moral forbade him to kill these innocent men just for secret keeping. So, what should he do?
The torches flickered at a distance, radiating feeble light towards the dark targets. Torch lights glinted faintly on the daishou at the manslayer's hip, receding just before they reached his navy blue uniform. The scene was that of undisturbed stillness – yet amid that stillness, the pressure brought was deafening.
"Discard your weapon and show yourself." A calm, ringing voice rose to break the silence.
The owner of said voice stepped three paces forward, allowing Battousai to have a quick assessment of his latest foe.
/Well, here comes step one. / the hitokiri boy bowed his head by a little, allowing the overgrown bangs to enclose his easily-identified features from plain view. He blinked involuntarily as the image of his current nemesis registered in pale lilac eyes.
He looked unexplainably familiar.
It was, perhaps, that hint of a smirk curving the edge of his lips, slightly arrogant yet equally well prepared; tingled with a trace of sadness that was linked with close acquaintance with death.
He was like...like...
Like a Hiko with dilute arrogance and a Saitou with a less aggravating character merged together. Only the force of steady serenity that reflected in his cement-gray eyes managed to mirror both of the aforementioned swordsmen.
And that, Battousai decided, was no small feat to be achieved.
Under the veil of his shaggy red mane, Battousai tensed further. It was clear that he would not offer a verbal reply.
Seeing that the samurai had no intention to follow wither of his orders, the man's tone took on a dangerous quality.
"I am Hiroi Kizuka, vice-captain of the Shinsengumi First Troop. Name yourself." The captain declared, the slight impatience in his features belying his soft-spoken inquiry.
He wasn't surprised when Battousai simply stood still, one elbow leaning casually against the hilt of his katana.
The sight of the offending stance left Hiroi no choice. Raising a hand slowly, the Shisengumi vice-captain motioned his men to finish their assigned job.
"When I move, you duck – immediately." Battousai growled almost inaudibly, his hand sliding down the worn leather around his sword in a careless caress. Matsukaze gave consent with a dumb nod.
The torches raised as a signal of doom.
