Disclaimer applies.
Notes: PG-13, for brief and relatively mild torture scene.
Kakusei: Awakening
Chapter Five - But Still Falls the Rain
They were greeted by Shikijou as they rushed into the mansion, dripping wet and spattered with mud. Hyottoko collapsed, the body of the unconscious man falling to the floor with him.
"Okashira --" exclaimed Shikijou, startled.
"Get Hanya," said Aoshi tersely, Kanryuu's body still sprawled over his shoulder. "We were attacked. Hyottoko is hurt."
Shikijou took one look at the bedraggled figures in the doorway and hurried away for help. Only moments later, Hanya appeared, with the woman following at his heels. Aoshi suddenly felt very exhausted. He looked at Hanya, slightly bewildered. But Hanya ignored him pointedly.
The woman regarded them coolly. "There is a spare room next to the one you currently reside in. Tell the rest of your men to move there for now. It is furnished in the Western style, but they will just have to deal with it. After that, take everyone who is injured to the emptied room. I will treat them there."
Her voice revealed nothing. But Aoshi noticed the trembling of her hands as she turned and picked up her medicine box, then disappeared up the stairs.
"Okashira," came Beshimi's concerned voice. The short man had arrived at the scene sometime during the confusion. Shikijou hovered close behind.
"Hyottoko will be fine," Aoshi said quietly. "Don't worry."
Beshimi bowed his head. "Demo, Okashira... that woman..." There was a hint of distrust in the short man's voice.
"It will be fine," repeated Aoshi. "Go."
Shikijou looked at him, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Who is she? But Aoshi shook his head. At his side, Hanya snorted, but said nothing. Some strange, indescribable emotion shone in the scarred man's eyes. Then the man left, without another word. Beshimi followed. Meanwhile, the gray-eyed boy stood unnoticed in a silent corner until Aoshi, suddenly recalling the boy's existence, looked over, uncertain of what to do.
"Tell the boy to help," remarked Hanya dryly, seeing where his okashira's attentions were directed. Though the masked man eyed the boy curiously, he had not asked any questions yet, and he would not ask any questions later. Aoshi knew this.
"Hyottoko is quite a handful in himself," continued Hanya, voice dripping with sarcasm. "The other two are no lightweights either. I have no desire to break my back dragging up these fools."
Aoshi raised an eyebrow, thinking of the boy's willowy figure. But when he looked, he saw that the boy had already taken Ebisawa's man into his arms. Aoshi noted the boy's surprising strength and the unnatural grace with which the youth moved. Then Aoshi shook his head, trying to rid himself of his growing unease.
"We should hurry," he said, attempting to mask his agitation. He headed towards the stairs, knowing that Hanya and the boy followed close behind.
The woman was waiting for them at the door to their room. "Get them all settled down. Running around in the rain with injuries like that, while carrying such a heavy load -- how stupid can you get? It's a wonder that he got so far without any trouble! Or perhaps, he was merely following the orders of his beloved Okashira."
Aoshi closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then exhaled.
"Kanryuu is unhurt. He is merely knocked out."
"Good for him," she spat. "I am glad -- now I won't have to waste my time tending to that bastard. I shall have my hands full with your men alone."
"... Only one heeds my commands. The other... was one of our attackers."
At this, she looked up. "What?"
Aoshi did not reply, but walked over to a futon and laid his employer's body down. Hanya had already relieved himself of Hyottoko's body, and now stood to the side, watching the conversation silently.
"Shinomori." There was now an audible tremor in the woman's voice. "Isn't it enough to have defeated your opponent? Why must you --"
"Takani-sensei," interrupted Aoshi, voice barely above a whisper. His hand was clasped firmly about the kodachi at his side. "Haven't you considered... that perhaps I... I am not..." Here he stopped, unable to continue.
"Not what? A cold, heartless bastard?" The bitter sound of her laughter mingled with the drumming of the rain in a mournful duet.
"It's not what you think --"
Yet before the woman could respond, the boy from the alley stood forward and placed the last man's body onto a bed. Then the boy turned and gazed quietly at the woman.
Noticing the youth for the first time, she whispered, "And this... this is...?"
"That is a question better answered by Kanryuu himself."
Understanding slowly dawned in her eyes. Her hands clenched tightly into fists. "What is your name?" she asked the boy softly. But the boy shook his head.
"Tetsuo," said Aoshi. "He is called Tetsuo. I think... he cannot speak."
"So desu ne," she replied quietly, voice simmering with anger. Then she spoke again, hesitating. "There is... a secret room, built within my own room by the mansion's previous owner... not even Kanryuu knows of it. I found it myself only by chance. I will take Tetsuo there." She glared up at Aoshi. "You will not speak of this to that fool."
He bowed his head. "I had not planned to," he said, though in reality he did not know what exactly he had planned to do.
"But first..." Once again Aoshi noticed the quiver in her voice. "I must... look after my patients." She turned away from him resolutely and began to work.
Hanya glanced first at her, then back at Aoshi. "I shall leave, then, Okashira."
Aoshi nodded again. Hanya bowed and slipped out of the room. The boy kneeled down in the corner. The woman continued to work. Aoshi did not ask if she needed his help, but out of habit, he took up a watchful position by the door.
It seemed like hours before the woman heaved a great sigh and spoke. "Your man is fine. He will need to rest, but he is fine. So is the other one. I... will take the boy now." Her tone was clipped and professional. She stood and took the boy's hand into her own, ready to leave.
"Takani-sensei."
"Don't call me that," she whispered. "Don't."
"Takani--"
"Don't! I am no doctor. I am no longer a Takani. I have forsaken my name, my past, my family, everything."
"... Megumi."
"What do you want from me?" she cried.
Silence.
"... Arigato."
She paused and looked at him, startled. He stared back at her calmly. The hammering rain seemed louder than ever in the stillness of the room. And he thought, not for the first time, that she was a beautiful woman. Beautiful, and proud.
"You... you're hurt too..." she said, suddenly noticing the wound on his arm.
"It is nothing."
"Don't you give me that! Why didn't you tell me? I need to look at this as soon as possible; it could get infected, and that would just complicate things, and --"
"It is nothing. Take the boy."
"Baka!" she huffed. "You... oh, just wait for me here. Don't you dare try to leave!"
Then she fled the room with the boy in tow. Aoshi watched her hair flying back as the door closed softly behind her.
The shoji door slides softly shut.
(there is a memory he has. a memory from so long ago that he is no longer sure if it is a memory, or a dream, or perhaps it is a lie. always he wonders, is it real? is it true? but what is reality? what is truth? and perhaps his memories, his dreams, they are all lies and he does not know.)
long black hair. drifting past. slipping out of sight. out of memory
(in his memories there is always a curtain of long hair, shimmering black. misao's? his mother's? or perhaps some other woman's? but he does not remember his mother.)
a sweet, lilting melody, haunting in its innocence
(he thinks he was born by the sea. the ocean and its great wide waters have always beckoned to him, grasping, reaching, yearning for his soul. you belong to me)
dust and rain and blood
okaasan okaasan okaasan!
his heart is numb with cold.
you're hurt you're hurt you're hurt
"You're hurt..." A low murmur, accompanied by the pattering rain. Aoshi whirled around with a start. He saw Kanryuu struggle to sit up.
"You're awake," Aoshi replied.
"What... happened?"
"You fainted."
"Ah... so I did..." Kanryuu twisted his head about, and a smug little smile crept onto his face. "I see that you brought back one of the assailants... Very good, very good." The businessman felt for his glasses, almost as if for reassurance. Then he stood up shakily, pushing off his covers. The man was dressed still in his costly foreign business suit. It was no longer white, but muddied and wrinkled. For a brief moment Aoshi thought of the tall Ebisawa's long, immaculately white coat, swirling and fading into the shadowed night.
"We shall have to... question him, of course. Perhaps -- yes, now would be a good time to do it."
Aoshi felt an odd chill pass over him. "I doubt you will get anything useful from him. Especially in his current state."
"Ah, but that is precisely why I wish to question him now..." Kanryuu strode purposefully to the unconscious man and bending down, began to shake him. "Wake up, you worthless bag of dirt." When nothing happened, the businessman calmly lit a cigar, then drew something from his pocket and held it under the man's nose. Presently, with a low moan, the man began to stir. Aoshi noticed that the man was young, around the same age as himself. The young man had the plain, weather-beaten look of a simple peasant farmer. He was also missing an arm -- lost, no doubt, in the earlier affray.
"Who hired you?" demanded Kanryuu, stealing a quick glance at Aoshi. "A business rival who is jealous of my success and wants me dead, no doubt."
The man lifted his head, mumbling something incoherently. Then he looked at Kanryuu defiantly and spat at him. Yet Aoshi saw the fear etched plainly in the man's face.
Kanryuu was furious. "You dog! How dare you!" he screamed, slapping the man. The man was too weak to retaliate further, and his head fell back to the ground.
There was a crazed glint in Kanryuu's eyes as he slowly lowered his cigar towards the injured man's face. "Tell me," breathed Kanryuu. "Tell me now." When there was still no reply, Kanryuu thrust the smoldering cigar viciously into the man's eye. The man let out a strangled yell. Kanryuu jumped back, shaking slightly. He began to finger his glasses once more as the man on the ground whimpered softly.
"The other eye is next," hissed Kanryuu after a slight pause. "And after that, I shall break your fingers, one by one."
The man opened his mouth. A hoarse whisper escaped him. "My name is Yosuke..."
Kanryuu stole another glance at Aoshi, almost as if seeking the young okashira's approval. Aoshi saw that the businessman's face was eager, almost triumphant.
"Who hired you?" Kanryuu repeated impatiently.
"He took me in, gave me a job, money... No one else would take me, a poor, simple boy from the country..." The young man spoke now as if delirious.
Kanryuu made a noise of irritation and moved forward, but Aoshi held him back with a hand on his shoulder.
The wounded man stared at Aoshi with an almost pleading look in his single eye. "I have a sister," he whispered. "A younger sister... I send her the money every month so that she may lead a better life than mine..."
"What nonsense are you blabbering on about!" cried Kanryuu, seething with rage as he broke away from Aoshi's grasp. The businessman stormed up to the man, raising his arm to hit him. But suddenly, the injured man's remaining arm shot out and grabbed Kanryuu's neck.
"We are many years apart, but I love her all the same..." said the young man as Kanryuu thrashed about wildly. Aoshi watched on impassively, reaching swiftly for the tantou that he had carried since he was a little boy. It had always been more of a talisman to him rather than an actual weapon, and he had not used it for years, but now he bent over and slid the blade effortlessly into the young man's heart. Aoshi caught a glimpse of the man's face as he died, and saw there a look of -- accusation? regret? Perhaps both? But Aoshi could not be sure.
"It was useless to try to question him," stated Aoshi frostily as he wrenched Kanryuu from the dead man's grip. "For a man on the brink of death... will fight back with all he has left."
Kanryuu responded only with a pitiful, choking noise. The businessman was trembling violently, staring at the crimson blood flowing from the dead man's chest, staining the ground and the front of his expensive white suit. Finally, the businessman could not stand it anymore, and fled from the room, through the doorway... and past the woman in her lavender kimono, a packet of bandages gripped tightly in her hands.
Aoshi could not be sure of when she had returned. When he looked into her face, he could read nothing in her dark mahogany eyes.
"So..." she said softly. "I was right."
Aoshi stood, aware that his hands were sticky with freshly spilt blood.
"Sit," she snapped. He sat. She strode over.
"Give me your arm."
Her touch was gentle but firm. Neither spoke as she steadily washed the blood from his wound and rubbed salve onto it, then wrapped it in the bandages she had brought. When she finished, she stood and moved away.
Aoshi stared at the dead man lying sprawled on the floor.
And still the rain fell, pattering and pattering in the silence.
When he finally looked up again, she was standing by the window, looking outside. Aoshi stood, desperately wanting to leave the room. But he could not bring himself to move any further.
"Don't you think it's sad?" she said abruptly, staring out the window at the falling rain. He could not tell whether she was speaking to him or if she spoke to herself or even if she realized that she spoke. He caught a glimpse of a silvery teardrop, rolling slowly down her cheek from beneath dark lashes. Her head lowered, hiding her face behind silky strands of her long black hair.
"Even the heavens weep, to see how far we have fallen..."
Torrents of water fall from the sky. down, down, down. each exquisite crystal tear trickles down from above, shattering on the ground. he can smell the wet green scent of the thirsty earth, feel the icy droplets battering him, chilling him to the bone.
he is standing on a bridge. he dares not look down at the murky raging waters below. it occurs to him that this is strange. he is not afraid of anything. perhaps he is afraid that he will drown, though this makes no sense either. he knows that he can swim.
yet he dares not look.
a sudden wind sweeps through his disheveled hair and he tilts up his face instinctively and the water runs down in streams and he closes his eyes and tastes the sweet rain upon his lips and it is cold, so cold and he hates the rain, he hates it and he shivers.
when he opens his eyes again, he sees, standing across the bridge from him, a woman shadowed by long black hair, and a single pale hand, reaching out through the mists and the pouring rain.
To his surprise, his hand reached out, brushing against the cool dark smoothness of her hair. She glanced up in shock.He jerked back, as if he had burned himself. And then he turned away and fled, seeking refuge in the spare room where the rest of his men lay.
That night, and many nights afterwards, he dreamt that he drowned in a pool of black silk.
Tsuzuku