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Kakusei: Awakening

Chapter Two - Fires of Hell

Sleep came to him at last, uneasy. The pounding rain haunted his dreams. His dreams were dark and murky, intangible. The bitter laughter scorched him, time and time again. And still the rain fell.

Laughter. long and cold and bitter. ice that burns. and the rain is red. everything is red. everything falls. everything burns. he hates the rain.

the heavens and the skies above, they are crying. crying frosty crimson tears. to snuff out the scarlet blaze.

and lavender ghosts flit through halls of blinding jewels and white marble cages.

Blank white walls met his eyes as he woke with a start. One hand reached instinctively for the kodachi at his side. He sat up, his other hand brushing his bangs out of his face. He realized belatedly that his hair and clothes had not yet dried from the previous night.

"Awake at last, Okashira?" came Hanya's amused voice.

He glanced outside the glass window at the other end of the room. Nothing but gray and water.

"Dawn has not yet broken," said Hanya, watching his leader shrewdly.

"Aa. You always were the earliest riser of us." Aoshi could swear that the man was smirking beneath his white demon mask. But Hanya did not reply.

At last Aoshi stood. He padded silently out of the room, catlike. Through the dark halls he walked, until he reached a flight of stairs.

"What is troubling you?" he asked at last in a subdued tone.

Hanya laughed noiselessly behind him. "Okashira," he said. "How can I not be concerned, when instead of sleeping, you wander around all night before finally returning to our room, completely drenched?"

"I could not sleep."

"So you took it upon yourself to go take a shower in the rain?"

"... It was nothing."

"So desu ka? Then let me ask you this: Who is Takeda Kanryuu? What business does he have with us?"

A sneer. the white demon mask lies fallen on the ground. the man's face is a grotesque, contorted gray the face of a monster.

surprised? asks the man.

so desu ka? continues the man when he does not answer. then let me ask you this: who is hanya? who is shinomori aoshi? man or beast?

or perhaps, demon?

tell me, or do you not know?

"Do not ask me questions you already know the answers to," he replies, heaving a great sigh.

"Do I? Do you?"

"Hanya."

"Okashira. Takeda Kanryuusai, Captain of the Fifth Troop of the Shinsengumi, was assassinated in Kyoto for his treachery ten years ago as he left a party, drunk. And yet now, a businessman in Edo named Takeda Kanryuu hires us for his own purposes... and this does not seem strange to you?"

"Takeda is a common name."

"Hmph. And this Kanryuu is twice the fool Kanryuusai ever was. Still," said Hanya, sighing as well, "one cannot deny that something feels wrong about the whole situation. Who is Takeda Kanryuu? We do not even know his business here. I doubt that it is what he tells us. It cannot be anything good, if he is willing to hire even such demons as ourselves. Is that not so, Okashira?"

"It does not matter."

The masked man gave his leader a calculating glance. Then he turned to go back.

"... I trust you, Okashira."

Do you not trust anyone? demands the wily old man. they stand there, facing each other in silence. the rain is coming down in torrents, but neither of them notices.

aoshi. you are a prodigy. one of the best i have ever seen. not only are you an excellent warrior, you have a brilliant mind. you have talent, and i see a bright future ahead for you... even so, you are yet young. the oniwaban is your family. if you cannot even trust your family... then you are not one of us.

i know it is hard, continues the old okashira's best friend and most trusted companion, more gently. ever since yoshimune established our organization, the oniwaban have been handpicked from the kii clan... and you are but an orphan we adopted into our group from wandering monks seven years ago. nevertheless, you have proved your worth in these seven years. seven years, aoshi. it is a long time. surely these seven years with us have taught you something of family and of loyalty. let me ask you again: do you not trust anyone?

i... he begins uneasily. i trust misao, he ends in a whisper.

in the darkness of the rainy night, a slight smile graces the older spy's face.

There was a slight, smug grin on Kanryuu's face when Aoshi went to meet him, some time before noon. There was now an extra chair in the room that had not been there the day before.

"Come in, come in! Have a seat! You slept well last night, I hope? Good. Care for some wine?" The businessman gestured at the dark bottle on his desk. He spoke in Japanese, not the broken English of the previous day.

Aoshi shook his head.

"Oh, come now. Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea will be fine."

He fell into an awkward silence as Kanryuu ordered the male servant who had been standing by to fetch tea for him. When it arrived, Aoshi took the cup into his hands, sniffing its contents out of habit before taking a sip. Kanryuu dismissed the servant.

The rain had started up again. Aoshi listened to the rhythmic pattering as Kanryuu began to speak. It was almost calming, in a way. Yet at the same time, it was slowly driving him insane. He looked down at his knees. He thought haphazardly that the hard wooden Western armchair was strange and uncomfortable. Perhaps he was merely unused to it. He tried not to fidget. He looked up again, only to see an oddly sated, yet almost wistful look in Kanryuu's eyes.

It disturbed him.

"The money," spoke Aoshi coolly, fighting to keep his calm.

The businessman's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Aoshi gripped the fabric of his pants, only semiconscious of the act. His right hand inched slightly towards the sheathed kodachi at his side.

"Ah, yes! How could I forget?" continued Kanryuu as if nothing had happened. "What do you say to--"

"Monthly payments. Three-quarters in the gaijin's money. The rest for my men and I to use in the markets."

"... Ah-ahh... So desu," stammered Kanryuu. "That..."

"It should be fine, should it not?"

"Ah... ah... hai. It will be fine."

"Good. Now if that is all--" Aoshi stood.

"Iya!" The businessman jumped up. "Chotto matte yo--" Then, more calmly, in English, "No, not yet. Remember -- ah... when I spoke of other, more delicate matters I would like you to take care of, besides acting as my bodyguards...?"

Aoshi stared impassively at the bespectacled man.

"There... is someone I would like you to meet..." Kanryuu continued, slyly, once again in Japanese. "Megumi-chan! You may come in, now!"

It took all his years of training to keep from making any movement besides a slightly inclined eyebrow as she stalked delicately into the room from a door hidden behind a curtain hanging by the oil painting. It was the woman from the previous night. The woman of the rain. There was a storm brewing within the depths of her dark brown eyes. Aoshi wondered why he had not noticed the door before. It no doubt led to the room adjoining Kanryuu's.

"I believe I told you never to refer to me as Megumi-chan again," the woman hissed scathingly.

"My pet," crooned Kanryuu in English, ignoring her. "This is Shinomori Aoshi. He shall be working for me from now on... in order to ensure that everything runs smoothly with my... business. And ah, my dear Aoshi, this is Takani Megumi. I shall be trusting you to watch over her from now on... she is quite a valuable asset to me... and I should be terribly displeased should anything happen to her..."

Kanryuu glanced at him expectantly. He inclined his head slightly, then turned and bowed stiffly to the woman.

"Yoroshiku," he muttered. The woman bowed in turn.

Aoshi barely caught her fierce, mocking whisper as she straightened up once more.

"So not his crony, but his dog..."

He felt something burning from deep within him. His hand grabbed at the blade by his side. Neither the businessman nor the woman noticed.

Kanryuu beamed, flashing rows of shiny white teeth.

"Very good, Megumi-chan. You may return to your work now."

The room felt strangely empty as she left, as ephemeral as the autumn wind, her long black hair tossing behind her like a final fleeting cascade of rain.

Or, perhaps, like fire, burning everything in its path, leaving only the ashes of memory that littered a shadowy void.

Her long black braid swings wildly behind her as he watches her race away. she turns after a few steps, grinning happily at him. her smile is like a ray of sunlight, bright and warm in the chilly air. the vision fades away as she continues to run, far into the distance, a gray veil of cascading rain obscuring her at last.

he feels a fire slowly eating away at his heart, leaving nothing but an immense, empty sorrow.

for her. everything is for her now. the light of the new era. the promise of the future. there is nothing left for him here.

he will be gone, come spring.

Tsuzuku

info on the oniwabanshuu was taken from the Hiten Misturugi Ryuu Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction Archive. the only place on the net with ANY info (in English at least) on the historical oniwaban group. that I could find, anyway. (10/18/06 -- at the time I wrote this, at least. Which was 2004/5.) plus quite a bit on the shinsengumi and other historical people. of course, as mentioned on their index page, this information may not be completely accurate...

the detailed shinsengumi information, though, must be credited to all those shinsengumi-ites who helped A LOT in discussions at the rkdreams forums (10/18/06 -- now dead, I believe), and is definitely as accurate as possible (tho I claim artistic license for any fudged details XD). thank you thank you very much, everyone. :-)