A/N: So, my friends. Long time no see! School is really murdering me...and life's hectic hell since the 1st of September. I'll manage, however. An apology to those who have written to urge an update I know I'm a slowpoke! Ah, in addition, I've tried the Kenshin PS game, but had trouble with it since I don't understand any word in Japanese (sigh). And life's not giving me time to work on that, either. A plague to Mathematics! A plague to Accounts! And a plague, my readers, to school in general!
And yes, I've newly opened a website in which I post my pics and stuff...but its in Chinese, so you may just click the webpage on my profile page
Ch 17 Screaming to bloodshed
"You know," Okita said in his mild, non-threatening voice, "I could easily have skewered you in that first strike."
Kenshin winced at the irony of Okita Souji standing there so solidly – talking to him, nonetheless...it was as if tuberculosis itself had reconsidered its choice of victim during this hectic time affair, deciding to take pity on the young, cheerful samurai called Okita Souji. Perhaps it was experimenting how well the Imperialists would fare if Okita had not been plagued by the disease.
Composing as well as he could, the wanderer exhaled sharply. Well, so much for trying to hide his features from the Shinsengumi. He didn't doubt the truthfulness of Okita's statement; unless his memory was severely deformed, he did recall that Okita wasn't someone who normally enjoyed boasting. Or take it the other way; the Shinsengumi gumi-chou simply didn't have a need to boast.
Hell, maybe he was being humble already. On top of skewering the rurouni, he could have minced him into shreds at the same time.
Kenshin let his hands fall to his side, knowing the sole reason why he was still alive; and knowing, on top of that, that reaching for his katana was the most efficient way to start an hour-long fight in which he had no confident that he would come out alive. So the logical solution was that: do not pose yourself to be a threat unless you are forced to.
Quite to Kenshin's expectation, Souji relaxed ever so slightly at his gesture of peace. The captain went a few steps nearer, the beloved katana now dangling loosely in his left hand. It took only a disinterested glance for the redhead to see through the seemingly harmless blade – if Kenshin was not careful enough, he might as well find his head being cut off by the same "harmless" sword. Dropping his guard was not an option. But there were things on this earth that even the notorious ex-Battousai had no control of...
Okita strode forward, his delicate, almost girlish features catching the pale moonlight. Just a look at the supposedly dead man was nearly enough to make Kenshin gape – abruptly, sunken memories in his head decided to make themselves known.
Inside his mind's eyes, a squad of men with turquoise haori materialized behind Okita – blades gleaming a ghostly grey in the abyssal night. A hundred katana, the lanterns leading the way to hell. But none of these lanterns, he knew, would ever shine as brightly as his would.
Hitokiri Battousai held in his hand the brightest lantern to send his victims to hell.
And so the amber-eyed monster raised his lantern, letting its rays radiate towards the wide-eyed Shinsengumi facing him. He sped forward in a lethal thrust...
...And the ground was scattered with newly mutilated bodies, all handiwork of the young assassin; who would then surveyed his newest kills with a sort of perverse detachment. The scene itself seemed to mock the fragility of life – how the spirits, sprinting and uttering war cries at the last moment, would extinguish as fast as a lantern could, leaving in their departure a couple of unmoving shells - which then would have completely no value to this world anymore.
The boy hitokiri snapped his katana into the sheath with an inaudible click; revealing, as he went away, the chiseled, teenage face for the hunter's moon to see. It was getting more difficult each time, to pretend that his foes were nothing more than a network of capillaries and nerves; and that his job was only to put to a stop that pumping, contracting organ that was the core of all these complex tubes. How could he, anyway, when what he saw in his preys' eyes were smiling kids calling for their fathers, or beautiful wives waiting behind the frame of their doors? How could he, then, when what that pumping heart supported were emotions too raw to be evil, beliefs too pure to be hypocritical?
How, could he?
He made a note to avoid his victims' eyes next time.
In the vision, Battousai sighed; an action that was so alien to his current status as a cold, unfeeling creature. He was a kid caught in the men's war – but as for that, no one needed to know. And no one needed to understand. He never understood – so why should anyone else understand what was going on with his life?
"May you find happiness in the afterlife." His soft prayer was soon lost with the passing wind, and those nocturnal souls that heard it never understood.
Kuso, it isn't the time for this!
Squashing the surfacing of more sinister memories with a bite on his tongue, Kenshin once again cursed his untimely remembrance. What the hell was wrong with him that he started to lose his focus to his past at the only moment when his attention could not cease? Why should he wander in days gone by, when he had his past to rescue? Upon reaching this point, the redheaded swordsman calmed himself, deciding that the pair of them couldn't keep staring at each other till forever.
"Is that the usual way you greet somebody?" Kenshin inquired, fidgeting with his ripped sleeve in indication. He didn't like the way Okita was toying with him.
Such an unreasonable inquiry was enough for the ex-hitokiri to be classified a fiend. Okita, however, just returned with a curious half-smile,"usually not. But you had been too busy running to hear my vocal greeting – so addressing you with my blade seemed the best choice at the moment," he inclined his head, pit black eyes crinkling up in a gentle smile, "if I have caused you any inconvenience, I apologize for that. Demo..."
The wanderer observed his features with an almost blank look, knowing without guessing what was behind the mild face and soft words. He didn't have to wait long for the next part of the wolf's sentence, however.
"...I believe, sir, that you are responsible for wounding a Shinsengumi member tonight. Just for your reference, his name is Taku Ikasaki. And for this, I would like you to accompany me back to the Shinsengumi headquarters." His voice was pleasant and polite, but anyone who had briefly acquainted the captain knew that when Okita gumi-chou used the "I would like" phrase, it was more of a command than a request. Simply put, the young commander was asking you to "obey, or die".
Many who caught him saying this phrase learnt the lesson soon enough. Unfortunately, none of them – except one - had survived long enough to counsel others on this matter, so this habit of his remained a secret among his enemies. But by some weird twist of fate, that exception was currently kept in the very presence of Okita Souji, so Kenshin tensed considerably when the words "I would like" registered in his mind.
He sensed that if he didn't say something sensible in short notice, things were going to turn as ugly as ugly could be, and real soon. Taku Ikasaki...that name didn't register in his sea of memories. But he wasn't an idiot; simple logic told him that this Taku person must be the spy-san from earlier on.
His answer, then, was plain and prompt. "Sessha didn't do it." Well, basically he wasn't responsible for hurting Takehashi, but technically he and Battousai were the same person, so maybe he was responsible after all. Following the "technical" wasn't that wise, so Kenshin decided that he might as well keep with the basics.
Okita frowned, detecting no lie from the rurouni's ki. Kenshin wasn't even bothering to mask his ki – he hadn't lied, and he knew it. A trifle puzzled, the gumi-chou was led to doubt his own judgment. Had he went for the wrong culprit, after all? His sixth sense told him he didn't. Every possible reason agreed to the sixth sense...save his ki sensing ability alone. Senses were sometimes so contradictory.
It was getting a little knotty, but the young Shinsengumi didn't allow himself to be fazed.
"And suppose I took your previous answer at face value. Who then, sir, are you? Unless you are Ishin, why should you flee upon the Shinsengumi's arrival?" Souji pressed on, his pit-black eyes bearing into his companion's amethyst ones. The wanderer almost smiled, knowing that he didn't have to apply any false information to this inquiry. His rurouni mask slipped on automatically, uttering a phrase that he had proclaimed a million times to various people; particularly to a certain blue-eyed kendo instructor.
"Sessha wa rurouni."
"Sou ka."
"...And sessha is not an Ishin." There, I'm being truthful.
"Aa."
Kenshin paused slightly, allowing Okita to scrutinize his features before smiling in reply.
"However, sessha would be surprised if any ordinary samurai desires to meet the Shinsengumi head-on, especially at nights when they would be additionally suspected."
From the tilting of his slender brows, Kenshin could see that his ex-adversary was faintly displeased – Okita had, perhaps, taken his words to be a personal insult.
"And how, could this be?"
"Let me explain. I'll start with a question: Okita-san..." - the captain's gaze sparked upon the mention of his name – "...what does men in your division usually do when they run into unidentified samurai in the dead of the night?"
Okita's answer held no doubt. "Stop them for an interrogation."
"And if they refuse to answer?"
Okita could now see what this question was leading to. Anticipating that his next answer would give the stranger an advantage in this debate, he nonetheless went on with the truth.
"My men are trained to cut them down."
Kenshin nodded, mentally applauding his honor in sticking to nothing but the truth. "See here, Okita-san – I have no death wish at the current moment, and neither do my companions. Is that enough to answer your second question?"
"Hai!" Being quick to see the humor in every circumstance, Okita laughed heartily. The knot was cleverly untangled, but somehow the persistent feeling – the feeling that the man before him wasn't some common passer-by – was not to be pacified. Someone that good couldn't pass for a passer-by, that much was sure. He glanced down at the katana still grasped in his hand, angling lazily towards the ground.
He still had something to prove; and this time, it would be once and for all.
Betrayal, blood, anger, and death.
An inhuman scream that seemed to be wrenched from the depths of hell itself, amid the crazed laugh that reverberated throughout Kyoto; so bitter with raging emotions that even air itself had trouble containing it. And above, the carnelian moon surveyed the picture of manslaughter with far-off dispassion.
"TENCHU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Half an arm, from shoulder to elbow, went flying into the air. Battousai watched with distorted fascination as it crashed into a nearby wall, the blood spraying from it covering its former owner from head to toe. Nearby laid two other sections of what appeared to be a human limb, so submerged in gushing red liquid that what it once resembled was nearly unrecognizable.
Matsukaze whimpered in pain, too drained to cry out anymore. He looked up at his torturer, then gasped as he beheld the smoldering amber eyes so deprived of sanity. The hitokiri had now adopted a persona of no mercy – and the double-dealer's past actions didn't exactly call for mercy either. Thus he only watched in wide-eyed horrification as the manslayer's own blood dripped softly to the ground, mingling with the spy's newly-spent blood. Blood calls for blood...he was forced to recall this saying.
"Onegai...let me die." The plea was rasped off parched lips. It was the last wish of the prey – to be granted death without passing this purgatory of intense pain.
Battousai blinked as if in consideration, then a purely Satan smile grew at his lips. "Die? How little do you think of life, Matsukaze-san! Life can take many forms..." he began conversationally, meanwhile pinning the man's writhing body to the ground with a throw of his wakizashi – embedding it into his prey's left thigh.
"You can, of course, live with an unscathed body and an unscarred heart. You can have no limbs, yet you live on. You can be burnt with oil and timber, yet you live on. You can also lose all you have in a day, and yet you live on. You can be betrayed and sentenced to death, yet you may live on...anyway, Matsukaze-san, do you know how difficult it is for a person to fully die?" Battousai tapped a finger on his blood-covered cheek, innocence written all over the handsome yet childish face.
"Kisama...LET ME DIE!" Matsukaze would have considered striking Battousai if his limbs weren't lying out of reach.
Battousai pouted."Swearing isn't proper, Matsukaze-san. It makes people reluctant to listen to what you have to say."
"You demon...you bastard! You... killed them all, every one... of them, when they... are of no threat to you! And...you, you slaughtered them in oblivion!" The man gasped, his whole frame shaking in fear and anger mixed together. How could a creature of such ferocity, of such perverseness be extracted from the body of a boy not older than fifteen? He had deemed the boy to have skills enough to match the flying dragon, but this alter persona...it was too much. Too overwhelming. He was in denial; denial of his failure, denial of the final fate that befell him.
Battousai threw a glance backwards, taking in the disfigured corpses of the Shinsengumi, the gaijin, all of them. He didn't feel anything; it was just as well. "They are dead thanks to you, Matsukaze-san. You made me realize that when I'm back to this world, I'm back. Meiji is just a laughable dream. The rurouni's way is true; it is noble beyond measure. But nobility could not be applied to someone like you, it would not, then, be justice. In a world of chaos, only extremities could make a difference. And when the difference is made, the rurouni's justice can then thrive."
The double-dealer now realized with a start that Battousai had not been out of his mind. He was, in fact, never more clear as to what the world was about...
"Thanks for teaching me about betrayal...I now understand. Dead people won't ever betray my identity, ne?" A cold edge had crept into the hitokiri's voice, indicating the game was nearly over.
Matsukaze took in the speech which he had no minimum understanding of, before closing his eyes in finality. Battousai was right: it was incredibly, incredibly hard to die.
His body was carved into six more pieces before he finally ceased living.
In another part of the city, a demented chuckle finally found its way into a rurouni's heart. He started mentally, recognizing what it was at once.
Save him, anata. Save him from being forced to do that again.
Kenshin exhaled sharply, his breath catching at his throat.
That, that, that.
The damage was now unsalvageable.
A/N: This chapter seems to have been possessed by a perverse spirit...so, Battousai's insane, Kenshin's going nowhere, and stuff. I'd better start with the reviews!
XZig-zagX: You didn't hate the last chapter? I'm glad! I'm also really glad that your beta reader is back now that you'll be needing her! I had half a mind to actually murder Battousai; but since that may result in my being killed off, I thought better of it. The guy that controls Time...his name is Zenei, but he'll around at the right time; you'll see. Well, see ya next time!
PhoebeOtaku: Who here isn't an RK otaku, anyway? (galres around for potential objectors) I see none, at least in my line of sight I'm happy to announce that I'm out of that thingy called a writer's block already, though I fancied it saying "I will be back..." or something of the sort. 10 of my profit in fanfic? Um...that'll be a lot. Reeeeeeally. Talk about virtue banknotes flying around...
BakaBokken: I'm glad it's not entirely unacceptable! You see, I'm out of the little block already, so yeah, that's good. Sorry for inconsistent updating, that's partly due to the fact that I'll be having HKCEE this year – which means Hong Kong Certificate Exam...and I'm fixed on getting a few As or something. Which means having to work hard...-- whoever the hell first came up with the stupid idea of exams, anyway?
Night-Owl123: Sorry to have kept you waiting! Here is the 17th chapter...finally out! You'll have to excuse me my schedules this year isn't too loose, really. I'll promise not to abandon this story, ok?
Ms. Zeal: A visit to Hiko-sama? (sneaky smile) wouldn't it sound like a certain fic I know, with a hikari-Kenshin and yami-Battousai? Actually, I always find a lot of similarities between your fic and mine. Both naturally Kenshin-Battousai, both based on their closer-than-brothers relationship. I love your fic. And you're right, Katsura's one person I'd never leave out of the picture...
Dragonheart2: Thou should'st forgive thy sister not only seven times, but seventy-times-seven. And alas! Thy sister shall continually sin against thee by applying more cliffhangers...and yet thou forgives her, just as she forgives you in meditating whether thou should'st forgive her...well, random ranting. Thy sister sends her love to thy reviewing!
Jovial Angel: (Puts on serious Kenshin persona) "Sessha says that the existence of Cliffhangers, like the Amakakeru no Hirameki, is based on the ultra-tension of excessive work and continually verbal abuse by your shishou...feeding on this double power source, cliffhangers eventually acquire force enough to duplicate and drive other people crazy...that they do..." (stares at the duplication process of a few cliffies) ;; okay, why is it that people in the RK community loves the very existence of pocky? Tea is my thing, after all I am Chinese. But the mysterious force that lies behind pocky is yet to be solved...and whether or not you find out what's gonna happen doesn't change the fact that someone will die! And get mutilated! MWHAHAHAHHAHAH...
Koros89: Mmm...getting the rurouni captured may be a bit disastrous, but that can be really exciting. And you're right, I'll have an awful time pulling that off! Seems like I'll have to explain for a bit why Battousai can't sense anyone's ki, since quite some people have been querying me on this one. And I really hope you can enjoy the chapter, since more excitable scenes is to come! (Okita and Kenshin talking all chapter long...isn't it a bit boorrrrrrrring?)
LuCrecia LeVrai: Well, I generally have no intense objection to shounen-ai, though I find it a little...strange. It may be my tradition, but Chinese people usually can't readily accept shounen-ai – or shoujo-ai, for that matter. Anyway! I don't even write romance, so what can I say?
CeeCee: Well yes, my English teacher used to say that my compositions have a sarcastic taste to the world in general. Yeah, I'm conscious that I would sometimes mock the characters, and that's all for good fun . OAV! I love the RK OAV. It may seem boring, even a little brutal at first, but when you get used to it, you find it really beautiful. And the Kenshin-Okita moment (well, in general the part when words like Director...blah blah blah and Character Designer...blah blah blah slides across the screen) is so lovable! I love Okita!
Nekotsuki: that's your first time? Thank you for continuing with this, to stay with a story for 16 chapters is no small feat!
Liemtenshi: Basically I work as a volunteer in my summer holidays, then stopped when I have to go to school. Man, it's impossible to work at a hospital and study at school in the same time? I can't duplicate myself, like the way with Kenshin and Battousai...and duplicating my past as a two-year-old is pretty much useless, anyway. Ja!
