Author's Note:

Demons. Shinsengumi. Chizuru. I'm almost hesitant to post this, since so many of you have told me how much you've been looking forward to the demons (in the nicest, most encouraging, very best way - don't worry!). I hope you will enjoy this, despite the death, destruction and despair (heh - alliteration).

Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred. - From verse 2 of The Charge of the Light Brigade, Tennyson (1870)

Really, the whole poem reminds me of the original Shinsengumi during the fall of the Shogunate. If you don't know it, check it out - I'm not actually a poetry buff, but some things kind of sink into the collective consciousness. Of course, it's a propaganda poem intended to do some quick PR after a really horrific military blunder. But it's a good propaganda poem (which is presumably why Lord Alfred was the Poet Laureate).

Best wishes and thanks to all my readers! And a belated thank you for a fantastic review of chapter 14 to AsthaRen.

- ImpracticalDemon

.-.-.-.-.

Chapter 16 – Here There Be Demons

On the second floor of the Ikedaya Inn, in the best of the back rooms, three men listened to the sounds of the raging battle below.

"There's nothing left for us here now," murmured the blond man standing framed by the wide, open window. His voice was low and dark and almost sensual, despite holding more than a hint of irritation.

He was the shortest the three, but he moved with the unconscious arrogance of a prince. His pale yellow hair was elegantly ruffled, framing an aristocratic face with fine lips, a straight nose, and unmistakeably ruby eyes.

Almost a study in contrasts, kneeling nearby was by far the biggest of the men, flame-red hair tied back at the nape of his neck. The first impression he gave was of raw, physical power, and everything from the massive hands to the harsh planes of his face suggested some giant predator, like the black bear native to Japan's mountains. He shrugged at the first man's words and rose unhurriedly to his feet.

"There was little more to learn in any event, Kazama-sama."

The calm, deep voice was not unexpected, but the patient, intelligent blue eyes, which rested almost with amusement on the first man, intimated that the first impression might not be wrong, but it was certainly incomplete.

"Well, it's definitely time for me to head out," drawled the third man, with a quirky half-grin.

Everything about him was lean and rather exotic, from his flowing, indigo hair, drawn back from his face into a high pony-tail, to his narrow hips and long legs. His face was sharp and satiric, tilted brows and violet eyes complementing slightly pointed ears… and teeth. A dragon tattoo curved down the length of his left shoulder and upper arm. Even his weapon was odd; instead of a sword, he carried a heavy, silvery pistol tucked casually into his belt.

The men looked nothing alike but somehow seemed, if not related, then closely connected.

The blond man moved away from the window with a slight smirk.

"Back to your Chōshu masters to report the undoing of their most recent plot, Shiranui?"

Undisturbed by the gibe, Shiranui stood balanced for a moment on the window sill, purple eyes smiling wickedly.

"Ah, but at least I chose my poison, Kazama. No centuries-old debts to pay… that would be tiresome."

With a casual wave, he sprang away to the nearest rooftop, pausing to watch the end of the fiasco at the Ikedaya – for such it surely was. He had heard of the Shinsengumi, had even seen them out on patrols from time to time in the last few days; he wondered if they were as good as they were supposed to be, or whether it was just the usual case of everyone else being pitifully slow.

Inside, Kazama frowned out the window, automatically tracking Shiranui's movements. Behind him, the battle was moving inexorably toward them up the stairs.

"Shiranui is young and rash," he muttered aloud. "He becomes more reckless the longer he spends with his human friend. After everything that has passed, with our kind so perilously placed, he should not risk himself so needlessly."

"You are both young and rash," corrected the larger man without heat. "Surely the Lord of the Kazama did not need to come to this place himself? In any event, Shiranui-kun was correct that we are not free agents. Shall we leave as well?"

"No…" the blond man answered slowly, ignoring all but his companion's last question. "Not yet. I want to see if there is anything to these Bakufu dogs – or wolves, rather."

"Very well, Kazama-sama."

As they arrived at the Ikedaya, Hijikata-san disposed of his troops. The sounds of battle could be heard plainly from within but the Vice Commander appeared to be calm. Chizuru was finding it hard to concentrate. There was something here, something that made her head feel strange. She took a deep breath and focussed.

"Inoue, front and side perimeter; stop any who try to run. Saitō, secure the inside. Nobody leaves on their feet unless they surrender."

"Hai!"

"Yes, Vice Commander."

"Tenth to guard the back then, let's go!" Harada called to his men.

Chizuru looked around slowly, trying to get her bearings. As she did, she saw a large troop of men coming down the road, carrying an Aizu standard.

"Hijikata-san!"

"What?" He turned on the word and cursed. "Kuso! Arriving so late – the bastards! Yukimura, thank you. Without you we might have ended up with nothing. Well… The Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi will have to welcome our allies as they deserve."

His face was so grim that Chizuru recoiled. She blinked, discovering that Yamazaki-san was standing just behind her. He was intent on the scene between the Vice Commander and the Aizu soldiers.

As if he had all the time in the world, and there was no desperate struggle going on behind him and he didn't know that there were possibly – probably – men hurt and dying at the Ikedaya, Hijikata walked out to meet the Aizu captain. Chizuru was fascinated; with everything else going on, he was stern but absolutely composed.

"Shinsengumi, eh?" said the Aizu leader, taking in Hijikata-san's blue coat with its edging of white triangles. "Well done. We will take over here now."

"Thank you for coming so quickly, taichō," Hijikata told him politely, but with a voice full of ice and steel. "I am Hijikata, Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi. We are conducting a raid at the Ikedaya Inn. Your assistance is not needed."

The man drew himself up. Chizuru thought he looked pitiful compared to the stern warrior in front of him. Hijikata-san was alone in front of a troop of thirty men, but there was no question who was in control.

"We of the Aizu are here to arrest a known group of rebel Chōshu! Move out of our way! We will not let the Wolves of Mibu interfere with our duties!"

Contemptuously, Hijikata-san folded his arms. As if coming to his aid, the wind rose a little, causing his haori to flutter and his hair to blow out around his face. It was almost uncanny, and Chizuru caught her breath. Given the danger, why didn't he accept their help?

"I am telling you that we do not need your assistance. If you enter the Ikedaya without wearing the uniform of the Shinsengumi, you will be cut down and likely killed. Our men have instructions to arrest or kill. I repeat: for your own safety, do not interfere in our operation."

"He is trying to protect his comrades' honour," Yamazaki said quietly to Chizuru, evidently seeing her confusion. "If the Aizu go in now, then they will claim the credit for the battle and any arrests. The courage and sacrifice of the Shinsengumi will go unnoticed. Alone, the Vice Commander stands as our shield against them…"

Chizuru heard admiration that bordered on devotion in the man's words, but he had made her understand what was at stake. Just then there was a cry from the front door of the inn. A man in a blue haori staggered out, clutching his upper arm.

"Go," urged Yamazaki. "I must guard the Vice Commander. I have heard that you have some medical training – is it true?"

"Yes! I'll go right away, Yamazaki-san!"

Tearing her eyes off Hijikata-san, she ran to the injured man, who was propped against one of Inoue-san's men, blood running down the sleeve of his coat. She dragged a strip of bandage from the cloth bag she carried with her for just such a purpose. She had forgotten it until now, but she had kept it with her constantly during the long wait with Sannan-san at headquarters, just in case…

She gave the man a reassuring look and deftly cut the sleeve away from the wound with a pair of small, sharp scissors. A moment to clean up enough blood to be able to see the gash… and then a smile for her patient.

"You will not need stitches, Takeda-san. Here… I have bound it up for you."

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Yukimura-kun," the man told her gratefully. "But there are more injured inside. Kondō-san and Nagakura-san are still engaged…"

"Wakatta." Squaring her slight shoulders, the girl plunged through the shadowy doorway of the inn.

There was very little illumination, but it was a terrible sight. So much blood… the metallic smell, mixed with other unpleasant odours, suddenly reminded her of her first night in Kyoto. She wanted to back away, but Kondō-san and Nagakura-san had seen her. She could not see Saitō-san, but the house was large.

"You should not be here, Yukimura-kun!" cried Kondō, turning to meet another opponent.

"Chiz – Yukimura-kun!" called Nagakura. "I heard something about Sōji coughing up blood! He's upstairs somewhere with Heisuke." He was plainly either unaware or unconcerned about the bleeding cut on his left hand.

"What? Sōji's hurt?" Kondō asked, worried.

"I'll go, Kondō-san!" Chizuru ran toward the stairs, trying to overcome the nausea that assailed her from the smell and the heat… and the bodies. Some moved feebly, some not at all. But none wore blue haori and white headbands.

Even as she put her foot on the first stair, the feeling from earlier returned. Fear – something really bad was going to happen, very soon. And now she could pick up a heavy, heavy aura somewhere above her. It wasn't bad, exactly, in fact, it was almost familiar. Eyes half-closed, she ran up the stairs, too preoccupied to draw her sword. Maybe her father was up there? Was he being attacked?

She heard a curse as she neared the second-floor landing. A man had just appeared above her on the stairs, his look of terror suddenly changing to a look of relief and then dark satisfaction.

"Kisama! The Shinsengumi brat! I owe you for Furutaka!"

Horrified, Chizuru saw the man lunge for her with a katana that was already smeared with blood. However, before he could put any strength into the motion, a sword plunged past her ear and through the man's chest. She knew who it was instantly, his presence registering on her senses not as a still pool but as a powerful, contained force.

"Yukimura! I would not sleep well tonight if you were killed… but if you run into a battle you must be prepared to defend yourself! Tonight your safety cannot be my priority – I have other orders."

Saitō-san looked almost angry, and she flushed with embarrassment, conscious of the sheathed weapon at her side. Then there was a terrible crash from above them. Saitō-san turned almost negligently to block a second attacker coming up the stairs from below them, his attention clearly on the upper floor. Chizuru whirled toward the noise – she knew exactly where everything was now. Maybe she'd even find her father…

"Draw your sword or leave, Yukimura."

She had never heard that note in Saitō-san's voice before, at least, not directed at her. She drew the sword and kept going.

Harada led his squad around the back of the inn. It would be interesting, he mused, if people tried fleeing out the front of a building for once. His momentary amusement faded when he saw three of the men that Kondō-san had taken with him lying injured in the back courtyard. No – two were injured, but one was clearly dead, having taken wounds from both the front and the back, judging from the blood still pooling sluggishly around the body. The dead man's haori was soaked red, and Harada had to remind himself that there was a job to do that required a cool head.

He gestured for two of his soldiers to escort the injured men further from the building.

"Ando! Niita!" he called to them as they were helped away. "Hang in there, we'll be back for you!"

He wished for a moment that Chizuru were present to look after them right away; he had a bad feeling about their injuries.

Then he walked quickly to where the third man lay and closed the man's eyes.

"You did well, Okuzawa. It was an honourable death."

Suddenly, two men came running out of the back of the inn, swords drawn. With Okuzawa's blood only inches from his toes, Harada felt no pity for the trapped shishi.

"Surrender or we cut you down! And please, don't surrender…"

"Kutabare! Mibu bastard!"

"I guess that's not surrender," announced Harada with a grim smile. "In that case…"

The spear spun in his hand and the sonno joi warrior collapsed with a hole through his chest. The other one, more cautious, turned and tried to run down a side-street. Harada lunged at him, but there was a sharp retort and he felt the spear almost yanked from his hand as a bullet slammed into it. He regained his balance quickly and turned, eyes narrowing, gesturing for his men to take cover.

"You know, I kinda sympathize, but he's just trying to run away, ne? So let's play nice and let him go."

A strange man with flowing indigo hair in a top-knot as long as Heisuke's and a dragon tattoo on one muscled arm was pointing a pistol at Harada from the top of a low building. Without hesitation, the spearman leapt for him, missing as the man flipped into the air and landed several feet away in the street.

"Not bad, but not fast enough," the man taunted, dodging several more strikes, though not by much.

It was frustratingly obvious that he was having fun, although none of his shots were hitting the spearman either. His violet eyes were alight with amusement and his grin showed oddly pointed canines.

"It's dishonourable to attack when you have the only long-range weapon," commented Harada, but without much rancour.

"Yours isn't exactly a close-combat weapon either, is it?" the other man retorted. "Well, you're pretty good, spearman – how about you tell me your name before I go? I'm Shiranui Kyo…"

Harada grinned, spun his spear and lunged again. He missed, and another bullet went by his head.

"Harada Sanosuke, Shinsengumi Tenth Division Captain."

"Don't forget my face, Harada!" called the gunman. "See ya round!"

"I won't forget," Harada muttered, shaking his head as his opponent vaulted lightly onto another building and then disappeared over the far side. "And what the hell are you?"

There was a crash from the room on the second floor right above the back door of the inn. Harada felt the ominous sensation from earlier wash through him again, wiping out any lingering trace of the rush left over from the fight with Shiranui. With an effort, he reminded himself that his post was right here in the back courtyard.

Cautiously, Okita and Heisuke made their way to the room at the very back of the second floor. They'd left a trail of dead and wounded in their wake. Okita slid open the door, all faculties on high alert. There were people within, he could sense their presence. He was afraid of very little, but his scalp was prickling again, much as it had earlier at dinner. He hoped that none of the Shinsengumi had seen the blood on his mouth when he'd had a slight coughing fit earlier at the top of the stairs. Heisuke hadn't mentioned anything.

Two men stood watching them from across the room, backs to the wide window that gave onto the small courtyard below at the rear of the inn. One man was big – taller than Sano and more muscled than Shinpachi, thought Okita – and dressed in a black coat and dark grey hakama. Stylized white serpents twisted in a figure eight on the wide sleeves of the coat. The other man was about the same size as Okita, perhaps a shade shorter and a little more slender. His hair was a feathery yellow-blond, worn short, and his traditional white kimono and black coat had the rich look of expensive, patterned silk. His eyes were a deep, bright red.

Okita moved slowly into the room, sliding along the wall facing the strangers, sword held in a defensive guard in front of him. Heisuke, following in his wake, found himself staring across the room at the big man in the black coat. The man's hair and short beard were really red, he thought, a close match for Sano's or maybe even redder. And… he wasn't carrying a weapon. Long black leather gloves were fitted to his forearms and held back the sleeves of the coat, but there was no sword, not even long dagger in his sash.

"Stop," said the red-haired man once they'd stared at each other for a moment. "I have no reason to fight you. If you leave now I will not harm you."

Okita sighed. Not that he didn't appreciate a good fight, but maybe they could have gotten some information out of these two before the swords started swinging. Unfortunately, when Heisuke thought that a big guy was talking down to him, he tended to lose it a little. A lot actually.

"Well, too bad that I have a reason to fight you!" Heisuke smirked, switching to an offensive stance. "We can't let any of you Chōshu guys escape!"

He was up and away with extraordinary speed, his sword sliding with perfect accuracy toward his opponent's neck. Okita could only watch, stunned, as the big man simply reached out and caught the blade of Heisuke's katana in one gloved hand.

"I do not care for the way that you assumed I am with the Chōshu."

Before Heisuke could recover enough to let go of the hilt of his sword, he was yanked forward by his own blade and a fist like a block of iron was driven hard into the center of his forehead. Heisuke flew backward, his steel headpiece cracking under the blow. In fact, it was almost miraculous that he survived at all, between the massive knock to the front of his skull and the force with which he hit the wall behind him. His body crashed right through the wall and a little way out onto the large landing, splintered wood and torn paper settling around him. He lay there, crumpled and broken, blood trickling down his face and neck.

Chizuru made it to the top of the stairs just in time to see the big man with the red hair walk slowly out into the hallway area just past Heisuke and look around. She hesitated, kodachi tightly clutched ahead of her, and then Saitō-san pushed her gently but firmly out of the way. Apparently it hadn't taken him long to catch up to her. The enemy warrior – who appeared to have no weapon – immediately turned and moved to intercept Saitō-san, whose sword was running with blood.

"We have no cause to fight," the big man said, raising his empty hands.

His bright blue eyes seemed to darken and grow more intent as he studied the left-handed warrior, who had not moved from a defensive position near the top of the stairs. Chizuru gave a wide berth to both men and hurried around to the breach in the wall where Heisuke lay unmoving. She immediately set to work staunching the blood flowing from the grievous wound on the young captain's forehead. She looked briefly at the red-eyed blond man across from Okita-san and valiantly tried to ignore the creeping sensation of both recognition and fear that she felt with both strangers.

Saitō studied the man in front of him briefly before choosing his angle of attack. The general rule was that a man with no weapon had to be three times as good as a man with a sword to win a fight. He did not underestimate his own skills, but… He could feel the power in the big, red-haired man, could feel his ki more strongly than anything he'd ever come across before. And he was puzzled, because he felt no ill-intent, although Heisuke's limp form said otherwise. In any event it was moot. The Vice Commander had given the order to accept nothing less than surrender from every person found inside the house.

"Unless you surrender, I must fight," Saitō said, even as he launched his attack, striking at waist height in one smooth blur of motion. He did not consider the move dishonourable; there was no need for words to tell him this man would not surrender.

But the red-haired man was gone. Relying solely on instinct, Saitō whirled and struck again. And hit nothing.

He knew the man had been there – he had judged his second strike perfectly. It was as if his sword had passed through a mere image and then the man had simply disappeared. Automatically, he flicked the blood from earlier battles off his sword, did a final visual check of the area for more enemies, and then ran to the next room. He could hear Okita's voice, but he could also sense a presence similar to the one of the man he had just faced. And Okita was not in perfect health.

Even as the big, red-haired man was punching Heisuke through a wall, Okita settled himself into his preferred strike position and gauged his enemy. There didn't seem to be much to him, with his expensive clothes and his air of boredom. A pretty rich boy who had been dragged into politics, perhaps. He only carried one sword, not two, so it seemed unlikely that he was a samurai.

"Do you really think that the likes of you can best me?"

Hyper-aware, Okita heard arrogance but also an undercurrent of assurance in the smooth voice; there was nothing of bravado or play-acting. He was certain that the man was more powerful than he looked. And speaking of looks… the red eyes reminded him all too much of the broken creatures that were the failed experiments of the Bakufu and the Shinsengumi. Not that the blond man had anything else in common with those pitiful things. In fact, the eyes weren't really the same either – but they rang warning bells in his head.

Without warning, he unleashed his first strike at a speed which even Saitō would be pressed to better. Given the slight coughing fit earlier, the sooner this was over the better.

It was an unpleasant shock when the blond man just stepped aside a little, thumbed loose his sword and caught Okita's strike on the exposed inch or two at the top of his blade, between the hilt and the sheath. Okita didn't waste breath on cursing, but spun and attacked again. This time, the man fully unsheathed his sword as he stepped back. With some dismay, Okita saw that he was wielding his katana one-handed with apparent ease.

"It looks like you may be a challenge I can actually sink my teeth into," the blond man commented in the same lazy voice as before. "I will play with you if you like."

Sliding away again, Okita managed a crooked smile.

"Take care or I'll knock those teeth down your throat!"

Okita attacked again, this time with a sweeping blow designed to put his opponent off balance and followed by a sharp thrust. The sweep was easily dodged; unbelievably, the man then allowed Okita's blade to pass just under his arm and trapped it against the side of his chest. With a look of pure triumph, he then kicked his right foot directly into Okita's wide open upper body with a force that made the Shinsengumi captain fly back into the wall with a resounding crack.

Chizuru left Heisuke, his forehead now bandaged, and raced across the room, heedless of the dangerous blond warrior. She flung herself down by Okita, who was struggling to get up. She saw blood trickling down one corner of his lips.

"Okita-san!"

"One of your comrades, Bakufu dog? If you don't move, child, I will cut you down with him."

Okita braced himself on his sword and rose to his feet, staggering.

"I… am your… opponent…" he gasped, trying to place Chizuru behind him.

"You are ridiculous. You can't protect yourself, let alone act as a shield for the girl. Is this truly the best the Shinsengumi can manage? Disappointing."

Suddenly, Okita's breath seemed to catch and he started coughing hard into the back of one forearm. Blood gushed out of his mouth and onto the tatami.

His opponent stared at him, and then relaxed, his katana held loosely at his side.

"Ah, now I see… I should have realized sooner."

"No… I… can still… fight!"

There was a pause as Okita tried to raise the tip of his sword from the floor and his opponent considered the desperate words.

"Do you wish to die so badly? Hnh. It seems that I will be doing you a service, allowing you to die like a warrior now."

The blond man's arm came back for the final blow. As his blade started its downward arc, Chizuru shoved Okita back into the wall, covering him with her body, arms braced. The sword cut her outer arm but nothing else – their enemy had pulled his strike wide, in itself a remarkable feat, and not in accordance with his previous words.

Chizuru looked down at her arm. The deep wound was healing quickly, much faster than she was used to. Automatically, she moved a hand to conceal the cut, but the blond man was already staring at her.

"You are one of us?" Ruby eyes widened in disbelief. "Why is one our kind protecting these human barbarians? Surely you cannot be bound under oath – no clan would ever agree to it, not so young and never a girl."

Chizuru gaped at him.

"Sumimasen… One of what kind? What oath?"

"You… don't know?"

The blond man raised his hands slightly and…magic happened. Power flowed out from him and it was as if time slowed down. He was… changing… and the air around her seemed thick with power. This is the beginning, she thought. I can feel it. This is what I've been afraid of. I thought it was the fighting, and people getting hurt, but it was this all along. I don't want this… do I? I don't even know what this is! Cold washed over her and she shivered.

The stranger's hair was white now instead of blond, and his eyes were golden. And she knew without question that she was changing too, answering his call…

"No!"

It took a moment to realize that she had cried aloud, and in that moment the power dropped, the world returned to normal, and Saitō-san stepped softly into the room, sword drawn and blue eyes wide.

Unaccountably, the blond man laughed aloud, the sound somehow both harsh and joyful.

"Goodbye for now, little one! I promise to come back for you."

He glanced at Saitō-san, who was once more impassive and advancing slowly.

"You – wolf cub! Keep her safe for me! You have no idea…"

On that unfinished sentence he leaped lightly out the window and was gone.

Chizuru sank down against the wall, trembling, small hands pressed tightly to her face. They were still covered in slowly drying blood, which seemed a poor omen for the future. She didn't notice the man kneeling at her side, or the tentative, awkward touch on her shoulder. She didn't hear him when he turned to a new arrival just a few moments later:

"Vice Commander. I don't know what is wrong with her. Also, two of the enemy escaped. I failed to stop them."

A/Note: Oof! Let me just say here how very grateful I am for the wonderful reviews you've sent my way recently. I'll get my acknowledgments done next time, I promise.

I'd also like to thank those who have liked my story enough to Follow and Favourite. To all of my readers: Arigatou gozaimasu!