Final Chess Piece by Hitokiri-san
A/N: To say that I have posted this chapter during my mid-year exam would probably contradict my intended excuse of business. But as this is the case, I am left with no excuses at all.
I am now hopelessly infatuated with Gundam Seed and its protagonist, the loveable Kira Yamato. But…um…that should be unrelated to my unexceptionally slow pace of updating, really.
Now that FF net has banned review responses in a chapter, I will henceforth reply to reviews privately. Thanks for all your support! I really appreciate it.
Staring death in the face is not a man's greatest fear, for there is certainty in the knowledge that one would pass on to the next world. A person like me would have prepared for it once he steps onto the battlefield. The greatest fear, instead, lies in the uncertainty of a human heart.
The greatest fear is to stare a trusted friend in the face and wonder whether he would turn enemy tomorrow.
Chapter 7 Cynicism
Kenshin found it inexplicably strange that Katsura would offer him a ride home after the whole kidnapping ordeal.
It wasn't that he doubted the president's generosity. Kenshin knew, for a fact, that Katsura could be very generous to his pawns – or his subordinates, as it pleased Kogoro to call them. It could be seen as the man's personal investment, if one considered things in the economic way; the more charitable Katsura was to his men, the greater the chance that those men would prove serviceable to him in the near future. Having a firsthand experience of this political tactic in the past, Kenshin thought that he could see the logic in the act.
But…Himura glanced briefly from his freshly laundered uniform to the expertly done Chemistry homework in his lap, before staring fixedly at the broad set of shoulders blocking his line of sight. Someone had painstakingly taken out the bloodstain from his shirt while he was in captivity; it looked clean and crisp, as if the fight before had never happened in the first place. Katsura had even bullied someone into doing his homework for him. (and how on earth did the man know that he needed that report tomorrow? Kenshin wasn't sure that he wanted to know.) The handwriting was suspiciously akin to his own, the report expertly written. It was as though the writer were more accustomed to writing reports on nuclear development than those concerning basic concepts like speed of sound and light, which, as the boy knew, could be the case. Himura wondered if the writer felt intellectually insulted when he was assigned this task.
All these small gestures, these little acts of kindness seemed somehow wrong to his instincts. Katsura did not have to please Kenshin as there was no point in doing so – the young man hated every inch of his guts and he understood it well enough. Blackmailing and threatening, on the other hand, worked on the ex-hitokiri like a charm. Additionally armed with the cross scar's curse, the Choshu leader could expect his former manslayer to be at his beck and call at every available moment.
He didn't need to ensure that Himura was comfortable and happy; there was nothing to gain in doing that.
It was one of those frustrating times when Kenshin found that he had no way of reading into his former superior's line of thought – the maxim of "knowing thy enemy" seemed utterly inapplicable whenever Katsura was concerned. The Choshu leader's mind was tuned on such a complicated track that the boy often wondered if Katsura could understand himself fully.
Just then the car gave a great lurch; Kenshin was sent slamming against the side window just as Takasugi grinned sideways at him from the driver's seat, one hand resting against the steering wheel. It was apparent, by the man's amused expression, that it was no mere accident.
"The road's a bit rough, isn't it, boy? By the way, we've reached your place," Takasugi announced, earning himself a glare that would have made an entire forest wither. It was good to know that some things in the world never changed – Katsura's incessant formality and Himura's Look of Doom were decent enough examples. It was sometimes difficult to visualize that underneath the eternal stolidity and deadly glares, there was indeed a young boy's soul residing in Himura's body.
Retracting his gaze reluctantly, Kenshin moved to open the car's door, only to find that it was locked from the inside. He didn't make a second attempt at yanking the door's handle – he was obviously smarter than that - it didn't surprise Takasugi when those hard amethyst eyes left the car door and snapped back to his face in an accusatory manner. It was nearly enough to make him feel guilty.
"And what do you want, Takasugi-san?"
The emphasis on the word "you" told Takasugi that Himura had said the same thing to Katsura upon their reunion, probably delivered in a rather hostile tone. Given that Takasugi himself hadn't crossed the boy in any way yet, be it physical or literal, he found Himura's cynicism totally uncalled for. Annoyed, he frowned heavily at the younger boy.
" See here, boy. I don't care if you were the Hitokiri Battousai, or that you'll probably make mincemeat out of me once you get your katana. I have something to say, and I'll make sure that you listen up." He leant over the front seat, staring his passenger in the eyes. The teenager was leaning back calmly, the godforsaken cynicism apparent on his face. At least he was paying attention; and for Takasugi, that was already more than he could hope for.
" Well, let's talk about your earlier agreement with Katsura, shall we?" Takasugi began conversationally. " When I think about it, it's pretty apparent that you're not going to stick to our plan like a good boy; submission isn't your cup of tea. One day or another, you're going to stage a counterattack against us. I know it, you know it – and if you think Katsura hasn't thought of it yet, you are kidding yourself." His lips twitched a little, a taunting gesture. The boy's countenance was once again a blank - clear proof that his words had hit home. Contrary to popular belief, Himura was curiously predictable when it came to conspiracies. It wasn't as if the boy lacked brains; he simply came short of the professional cunning that only age could bring. It wasn't something that could be helped, and Takasugi planned to make the most of it.
Satisfied with the reaction displayed, Takasugi pressed on.
"But then, it's common for schoolboys to rebel against their elders at this age – I won't consider you any different. Tell me, do you want Katsura dead? Are you going to bring the night's event to your master so that he can deal with your enemy once and for all? It would be a good way to put an end to this crisis, wouldn't it?" The man winked nonchalantly, as though Katsura's fate had nothing to do with him. The ex-hitokiri saw through the facade immediately.
"Yes." A one-word admittance, delivered as though stating an ordinary fact. Kenshin hadn't hesitated in the least – his answer wasn't going to change anything, and he knew it. He wanted Katsura dead, yet he did not – it went against his nature to take someone's life in sheer selfishness, even if that "someone" was the infamous Katsura Kogoro. Well, maybe wanting Katsura to "vanish from his sight" would be a better way to put it. That was just wishful thinking and he knew it. So, up to the current moment, how to deal with Katsura was one major problem that he still had to dwell upon.
He wasn't going to explain all this to the man before him.
"I see."
Takasugi wasn't sure if this candidness of the boy's was a virtue or a sin. It wasn't unexpected, though, and it was his job to deal with the problem at hand. The boy shouldn't be allowed to carry this homicidal attitude back into the house – things had been ugly enough. It would definitely get uglier with Hiko Seijuro's interference. He was sure of that.
The lights were off at the Himura household, indicating the absence of people in the house. Takasugi glanced out of the car window, contemplating. The young killer was a silent presence behind; waiting, anticipating - trying to catch the flow of the situation. Somehow the tension between them prompted him to say words that he had not measured thoroughly beforehand. He would probably regret it later; but for now, sincerity ought to work best for the boy behind him.
"Believe me or not, Himura, I think I understand what you're feeling. You hate Katsura, because he had betrayed your trust in the past, because he is disrupting your current life. That I cannot blame you – it is human nature to eliminate those that you dislike, those that stand in your way. But have you ever considered…how it would affect the nation if say, one day, Katsura was found dead in his office?"
Kenshin was mute – this wasn't something that he would normally consider in actual terms. Though wishing him dead was one big fantasy among his enemies, killing Katsura in reality was a task next to impossible. Sometimes, disregarding the factor of the curse, Kenshin had wondered idly if he – the former Hitokiri Battousai - could accomplish this particular job, getting past all the strict security measures; and he came to the conclusion that no, even as the darkest assassin in history, he couldn't.
That alone gave proof to Katsura's ultimate immortality.
"I see that this idea never came into your mind. Katsura seems undefeatable to you, doesn't he? Young and wise, the utmost leader of the country. But I know…I alone would know…how vulnerable he could be. I know that you, boy, are not the only assassin that prowled the places after dark. We have assassins in our employment; why shouldn't our enemies?
"That is why I fear for his safety, fear for the future of this country. The Meiji government is ever so fragile - we have political enemies all around us, waiting for the slightest weakness we display. If something were to happen to our president – anything at all – a civil war would be the bottom line. You ever thought of that?"
No, he hadn't. After the last war, his world had narrowed down to three things - him, his life, and his ideals. He had long since realized the idiocy in trying to revolutionize the world by himself – the last time he'd tried, he ended up being a disposable chess piece on Katsura's chessboard. He had hurt people mindlessly, bringing despair and pain instead of salvation. His master's words rang true to his ears – he could not hope to change the world all by himself; and by siding with any political force he would disrupt the balance of the world.
There was nothing he could do to change the world the way he wanted it; the only thing under his control was the direction his life took.
That was, at least, what he had thought before Katsura re-entered his life in an over-dramatic fashion.
"No, you haven't." Takasugi smirked, taking his silence as a negative. There was a stagnant pause as the man drove his point home. "So, you get to choose now. Do you mean to start a civil war on your own based on a personal grudge?"
Takasugi knew, as the car door at the rear seat banged shut behind the boy that his task had been more or less successful. In the boy's forced decision to draw his sword either against Katsura or Tokugawa's heir, Takasugi had barred the former option by one irrefutable point – Katsura's life was linked to those of the common people. The lives of Katsura and Tokugawa weren't two equal weights on either side of the scale.
Himura had listened, thought it over. Looked momentarily torn before throwing the car door open. He didn't even stop to consider when the door lock had been released.
He had understood Takasugi's intention.
As Kenshin's petite form disappeared behind the gate, Takasugi's smirk neutralized into a contemplative expression. And as the young assassin's troubled countenance appeared on the front door's surveillance camera, Hiko Seijuro's eyes narrowed into slits of flint.
"Himura."
Kenshin started, swerving around to meet the impassive eyes of Shinomori Aoshi. With his long, sweeping lab coat and stoic expression, Aoshi did look like one of those brooding scientists in a horror film, biding his time to dissect the hero alive at the appropriate moment. Maybe that was what he was going to do too…maybe he was the Tokugawa boy, waiting to strike at his most hated enemy – the Hitokiri Battousai – at a time he saw fit. That was why those ice-blue eyes only reflected the world around him, penetrated into others' mind; but never reflected his own soul, his intentions in life…
"Himura. What are you doing?"
Aoshi's eyes showed slight disbelief as he plucked the beaker from atop the Bunsen burner, ignoring the crackling sizzle it made as the beaker left the wire gauze. He shook the heated beaker experimentally.
"You do realize that it is alcohol in the beaker, do you?" Aoshi's inquiry was, like his face, unfailingly emotionless and flat.
"I thought it was water." Kenshin admitted dryly.
"Alcohol is highly flammable."
"I know, Aoshi; sorry for that. Maybe we can redo the experiment again?" He sighed, taking the beaker from Shinomori and emptying its contents into the nearest sink. Mistaking alcohol for water…maybe he really was losing it. Kenshin was glad that Okita's lab hadn't been set on fire due to his negligence; for all he knew, Okita might see it as Battousai's attempt to burn the whole school down. Now that would be a ridiculous way to reveal his identity.
The teenager found that, after the last night's ordeal, he had no mind for trivial things like chemical experiments at all. It was as though the world around him had taken a dark turn – everything got him wary and every person around him seemed to bear sinister intentions.
Everyone he knew had the potential to be the hidden Tokugawa. And the least suspicious student in his class was fast becoming Katsura's spy. The Mibu wolves were on their move and he was about to be condemned.
He wondered how he could have lasted a single day at school with this cynical train of thought.
"You seemed bothered. Very."
It was very unlike Aoshi to reveal his observation of other people in actual words, and more unlike him to care about the emotions of those who surrounded him. Kenshin blinked at him as a light-blinded owl would – the taller boy's comment had him momentarily thrown. Unsure what to make of this statement, he turned to the old habit of staring directly into Aoshi's eyes. That was where he found his own response.
"You don't seem much better either. I think I would be correct in saying that it has nothing to do with the last Chemistry test." Himura's gaze was sharp and searching, his words treading on unsafe grounds. It was like walking blindfolded across a minefield, Kenshin mused. Either way, this three-sided stalemate among Katsura, Tokugawa and himself had to end, and it was up to him to take the initiative. If Aoshi was indeed Tokugawa – which his mind suspected and doubted at the same time – now was the time to know.
The taller boy regarded him with dangerously narrow eyes that reminded him of his own master, radiating strength and intelligence. If he had got the implication, he didn't show it; nor did he exhibit any degree of confusion. The redhead paused awkwardly at the lack of reaction – it seemed to him that his plan had backfired. Instead of getting clues from his dark-haired classmate, he was now giving himself away.
Ironically, it startled him to a certain degree when Aoshi decided to answer in the same coded language.
"Indeed. There are far more important things happening in the world than a mere school test. Things that can turn the world around are happening in our midst." The other boy's voice was low, unheard by all except one. Himura nodded, deliberately; now they were going somewhere at least
"It's good to hear. Let's be a bit more straightforward, Aoshi." The ex-assassin poked a decolorized leaf into the test tube; gaze sharp and intense as he absently attempted to redo his experiment. The leaf stuck wetly to the rim of the test tube, but this time, he left it there.
"Who exactly are you?"
Flames from the Bunsen burner twinkled in those ice blue eyes, a grim smile tugging at Aoshi's lips as he perceived the question.
"So you are the Hitokiri Battousai – I have thought that my instincts was wrong."
Kenshin flinched instinctively, but didn't retort. He was highly aware that Okita Souji was currently at the opposite end of the lab, checking on Soujiro and Kiyosato's progress; and though the Chemistry teacher was most certainly out of earshot, Kenshin couldn't suppress the feeling that Okita might somehow catch their conversation through some unknown form of telepathy.
It seemed, to Kenshin, that both of their instincts were instilled with radar-like accuracy. For while both boys had the skill to blend into the world of students with admirable perfection, they shone like a beacon in each other's consciousness; it was perhaps the aura of a skilled warrior that made the other stand out so – Kenshin wasn't completely certain. Just as the existence of the Mibu wolves had him perpetually on guard, the presence of Aoshi triggered a certain unexplainable sense that nagged his mind often. Shinomori probably felt the same too.
"You haven't answered my question yet, Shinomori Aoshi…or can it be Tokugawa Aoshi?"
Before Aoshi could answer, or even put together one in his mind, the door to the Chemistry lab was thrown open by none other than Saitou Hajime, a sheathed katana in his hands. Behind him, Kondo Isamu and Hijikata Toshizo stood side by side, grave expressions on their faces.
Knowing a Red Alert when they saw one, Aoshi and Kenshin took a brief glance at each other before moving away simultaneously.
Across the lab, Okita started; he put down the pair of squeezers in his hands before hailing his comrades' attention. Kenshin noted, with bemused wariness, how those wide azure eyes narrowed down into dangerous slits in that instance. It was an unnerving sight indeed had he not seen Okita in battle mode before.
"Kondo-san. Hijikata-san."
He didn't address Saitou, but merely tilted his head at the lanky man enquiringly. Saitou didn't reply; the katana was out in an arc of silver as he wandered lazily to the center of the room.
"Listen, class. I have an announcement to make." Saitou's voice was deceptively casual; only the katana in his grasp suggested that he wasn't here for a class picnic proposal. Himura found himself freeze as the Miburo's gaze swept his way briefly before lighting on the opposite side of the room.
"The first one to move while I'm still in this room…" Saitou paused, as of opting to create a dramatic effect.
"…will find his head rolling across the floor."