Final Chess Piece by Hitokiri-san

A/N: An amusing aspect of story-writing is that the story may suddenly decide to write itself and turn out so different from what you initially had in mind that you're left gaping at it.This chapter, I assure you, turns out to be the case.Thus if something unexpected orviolent DOES turn up, it ismost certainlynot my fault. (nods vigorously)

In Literature, they always compare life to a game of chess. People make their moves, and are awarded accordingly by the appropriateness of their decisions. A bad move may result in an irrevocable loss. There is one aspect, though, in which the recurring game of life is different from chess.

Real life, unlike chess, is never limited to only two players across the chessboard.

Ch 8 Checkmate

Fingers hovering above the switch, Kenshin contemplated the merits of leaving the lights in his living room off and heading straight to bed.

Thorough knowledge of his house and perfect control of his ki guaranteed that he could wander up to his bedroom without running into the television screen or tripping over a loose cable. Leaving the lights off, he reckoned, would be the perfect way to disregard the man currently leaning back on his sofa – he wouldn't have to face the scrutiny of those abyssal dark eyes, for starters. Better yet, the man might take the hint that he didn't want to be bothered and would leave him be.

And, if everything went according to his fantasy, the fated interrogation wouldn't come at all – he could pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary and go on with his normal life. He was tired, he had school tomorrow - and most importantly, he was tempted to evade the issue for as long as he could.

The logical part of him scoffed at the folly of such an action. There were lives – a few hundreds at least, plus a particular young boy - at stake, as Katsura had taken note to remind him. Refusing to accept the peril of the current situation wasn't going to do him any good. To deftly diffuse the time bomb imposed upon him was now his priority; the least he could do was to protect those innocent souls that had been taken hostage, albeit unknowingly.

That aside, he did owe his master an explanation for his one-day disappearance – as his guardian and only living relative in this world, Hiko deserved as much. Given that he had hardly an idea about what to make of the situation, asking for his shishou's advice and assistance might even be a good idea. Visions of Katsura and Takasugi flitted tauntingly across his mind, and he frowned in meditation.

"I want you to pinpoint the last Tokugawa kin for me. We have adequate proof that he may be plotting a rebellion against the current government."

That was it; he could relate Katsura's plan to Hiko directly. He himself was powerless against Katsura's dominance, but the thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was a different story altogether. Hiko could easily dissolve the difficult situation; could shield him from being used as a pawn once again.

…Hiko could kill Katsura for him.

That thought chilled him to the bone though, in theory, it shouldn't have.If he revealed his capture at Katsura's hand or the choice he was forced to make, Hiko would promptly resort to drawing his katana. The way his master's eyes took on a predatory gleam whenever Katsura's name was brought up was not lost on the ex-assassin – the Physics teacher only needed one more reason to rid Katsura from the earth's surface and this would, undoubtedly, be the one. Homicide was a very serious crime indeed, especially when the target was the current president of Japan, but Kenshin was positive that such a trivial thing wasn't counted in Hiko's personal list of concerns.

Should he confess, then? Should he count on his master to make his life simpler? He was threatened, given no choice in a matter that concerned another young boy's life. Could anyone fault him for wanting to escape from a dilemma he couldn't solve, though he had tried his best to?

Apparently, he thought grimly, no one could. But it still didn't excuse him from the inevitable consequence his confession to Hiko would bring. Katsura would die; of that he was certain. Though his personal (and rather childish) opinion was that the world would probably be better off without Katsura, he couldn't ignore the obvious truth that Takasugi had thrust before him. The lanky man's words still reverberated in his ears, despicable yet true in every syllable.

"Do you mean to start a civil war on your own based on a personal grudge?"

Mouth thinning to a resolute line, Kenshin flicked the lights on.

Later, in the presence of four Miburo, he would remember how he had studiously avoided his master's gaze for the rest of the night, had repeated "I'm okay", "it's nothing" and other variants of that theme enough times that he was inclined to believe it himself. To his great amazement, Hiko had not pestered him with a single question – the master swordsman had merely touched the faint traces of his fading scar, tilted his head slightly, and quietly allowed him to utter his excuses. This unexpected turn of events unnerved the redheaded student immensely - Kenshin had the sneaking suspicion that Hiko had drawn his own conclusion even without his confession. At any rate, it was fine by him – if Hiko wasn't asking, he was automatically exempted from reliving his encounter with Katsura altogether. Kenshin had gone to bed fretful that night, fully prepared for another interrogation from either his master or the school when he woke up the next morning. He was, however, entirely unprepared for the shocking news that awaited him at Tsutoki High in the day to come.

Nothing, not even the sharpness of his warrior sense, could warn Kenshin of the tragic event that was about to unfold right before his face.

Trying to remain impassive in the face of Saitou's gleaming blade proved to be a more trying task than ever, given that Kenshin had seen for himself - more than a dozen times, in fact – how efficiently Saitou could spear a man on the end of his katana within a mere second with his gatotsu. At the corner of his vision, Kenshin could discern subtle tension in the set of Aoshi's shoulders as the taller boy regarded Saitou's sword steadily; the ex-hitokiri supposed that it was Aoshi's way of showing wariness. The other students were huddled in a nervous group, wide eyes fixing upon their PE teacher with unflattering astonishment.

Due to prolonged heating, boiled water was beginning to spill down the side of Kiyosato's beaker, but the students remained where they were, not at all eager to test the validity of Saitou's threat. Saitou, seemingly satisfied, sheathed his sword and allowed Kondo to take his place in the middle of the lab.

There was veiled wrath in Kondo Isamu's countenance as he gazed around at the class in silence, hands rolled into loose fists at his side. His eyes met Kenshin's, and in that instance, both man and boy refused to break the eye contact. Through the eyes of his former nemesis, the boy had a sudden, fleeting feeling that Kondo had known - had known his identity ever since the first time he set foot in the school. The Shinsengumi captain had only allowed him to roam free in order for the wolves to arrange a proper execution for his crimes.

Abruptly finding it difficult to breathe, the ex-assassin blinked and looked away. He could feel Aoshi's gaze directed at him, silently observing, and it evoked the familiar sense of being surrounded by a sea of hostile, sword-bearing enemies.

Once again facing the stunned students, Kondo spoke slowly and gravely, every word reverberating in the narrow space of the lab.

"Everyone, I want you to listen closely to what I have to say next. It is of utmost importance that you are able to understand this." Okita shifted uncomfortably at his side, recognizing the tone of voice the captain always used when delivering ill tidings. Kondo exhaled deeply, half sighing, before he continued.

"I am here now, as the principal of this school, to deliver the most terrible news to you all. Just now, during recess, a student in this class has been brutally murdered in the hall. His name…"

"…is Sagara Sanosuke."

A deafening buzz erupted in Kenshin's ears as he perceived the message. He could hear little of Kondo's words after the man had uttered that particular name - they meant nothing but incoherent syllables to him. His mind was reeling to digest the absurd information it had been given, and denial was quickly sinking in. It couldn't be true, couldn't be…the Miburo was surely mistaken. Or else they were trying to bait him on the spot, to trick him with the fake death of a friend…

Such tactics would not make sense in the slightest; his logic would have known it well under normal circumstances. But the ex-assassin couldn't bring himself to be emotionally detached – Sano was his friend, had always been kind, loyal and understanding towards him. The death of such a person, particularly if it had been a scheme by Battousai's enemies, was absolutely unthinkable.

He hadn't really thought much of Sano's absence in this lesson before Kondo's announcement - Kenshin, like most of his classmates, had presumed that Sano had merely escaped Okita's lessons by feigning some sort of sickness. It was typical Sano behaviour, nothing noteworthy at all - until now.

Shocked amethyst eyes observed the way Kondo's lips spelt out word after word, unable to register anything that had been said.

"…Fujita-sensei found the body in the hall right after recess…alerted the authorities…"

It was a scheme, and a dirty one at that, Kenshin decided, momentarily seized by a flaring anger. The Shinsengumi had dishonoured themselves by lying right to his face, had betrayed the respect of both their friends and foes. If they would sink so low in order to get at him, so be it…

"…a tragedy which none of us wanted to see, but I must ask you all to remain silent about the incident until official announcement. We wish to speak to you one by one in order to understand the situation better…" Kondo broke off as a young voice interrupted his words.A lithe, redheaded figure was speaking from the crowd, eyes hard and blazing as he delivered his own words.

"You are lying, Kondo-san. This whole thing is a lie and you know it."

The boy didn't know if he had cut Kondo off in mid-sentence rudely, and didn't particularly care at that moment. At his side, Shinomori's stare towards him carried prominent warning; Kenshin ignored him, eyes meeting with Kondo's directly for the second time within the day. The redhead's demeanor was cold with expressed fury; Kondo only raised a brow in mild interest, as if properly seeing him for the first time.

"You are Himura." It was not a question. Kondo didn't make a point of asking for the ex-assassin's name, merely announced it calmly as if it were perfectly natural for a principal to be able to memorize the names of every student within the school. Behind him, the light in Okita's eyes was now unreadable; it wasn't until the Chemistry teacher had stopped smiling that Kenshin realized how sharp his features were.

The teenager nodded, briefly, knowing that he had made an irrevocable mistake by letting his emotions get the better of him. It was very unlike him, he reflected, to lose his mind when faced with the death of someone close – not that he had many friends to begin with. He had been well trained, while he served the Ishin Shishi, to be indifferent in the face of personal losses. Being overly emotional would be a lethal mistake in his hitokiri years -and such a mistake, he acknowledged grimly, would probably kill him in the current circumstances.

Somehow, he found that the prospect of death didn't sound as repulsive to him as it should have been.

Kondo fell into silence, studying the young man with a contemplative expression that mirrored Okita's. When he addressed Kenshin, his tone was not unkind.

"Perhaps you would like to come with me first, Himura. I understand that you and Sagara have been close friends – it must be difficult for you to accept this. Hijikata, please watch over the class awhile." He motioned to Hijikata, who nodded in response, and turned towards the lab door.

Kenshinsuddenly found himself flanked by the first and third troop captains of the Shinsengumi. He stiffened instinctively, but Okita only gestured towards the door.

"Himura-san, please."

Defenseless and surrounded by enemies, Kenshin had little choice but to follow Kondo's lead. With the boy sandwiched loosely among them, the three Miburo started wordlessly towards the stairs; it was obvious, then, that they were heading towards the principal's office on the ground floor. Having cooled down considerably from his emotional turmoil, Kenshin was now able to contemplate his next course of action in tense silence. Should he, perhaps, feign ignorance to anything related to hitokiri Battousai? Given the present circumstances, he doubted that it would do him any good. Admitting that he was Battousai, however, seemed such a ludicrous idea that he had to frown at the very thought.

That aside, he was hardly able to forget what he had been told about Sanosuke's death – the rational part of him reprimanded that there was little the Miburo could gain from lying about such a matter, and he was an idiot for reacting as he did. A jumble of "who", "what", "why" and "how" jostled for his attention at this line of thought; accompanied by a carefully restrained hysteria that belonged, undoubtedly, to the gentler, more vulnerable part of his mind. He fought them all down, knowing that they were but unconstructive sentiments that would disturb his judgment if he were allowed to dwell on them any longer.

That left him to wonder - since when did he have to battle down his own emotions before he could formulate a reasonable enough solution? In his Choshu days, even before Katsura had inflicted his curse on him, he had been so thoroughly emotionless that it was an asset he had taken for granted. He operated in a practical cause, not on his own passion, and this guaranteed stability and efficiency in his work. For the most part of his official career he had been acutely aware of the goal before him, the steps necessarily to achieve it, so that he had seldom hesitated whenever he was required to deliver the killing blow to those in his way. It felt immensely surreal, to the boy, that one single year of school life could revive his deadened emotions to such a degree.

He couldn't decide, under the present situation, if he should be wholeheartedly glad for this new discovery.

"There is something important about Sagara's death that I have not informed the class of, Himura, though I presume that you would have guessed it already."

Facing Tsutoki High's principal with only a wooden desk between them, Kenshin was slightly taken aback that Kondo had started without much preamble. He hadn't known what to expect of the man beforehand, having seldom known him in any way, but his straightforwardness was more or less unexpected. He remained silent - both as a refusal to confirm Kondo's presumption and as an unspoken invitation for the man to continue. Kondo leveled his gaze at him; when he spoke, his tone was perfectly matter-of-fact.

"Sagara Sanosuke, like Sekihara Sae before him, is killed by a well-placed battoujutsu across the chest. There is also a cross scar carved on Sagara's left cheek, obviously the work of a katana."

The implication was hanging thick in the air; Himura wasn't completely able to mask the shock that flickered across his face, nor the tension that ran through his frame at that statement. At the side, Saitou and Okita's gazes were drilling holes in his skull; Kenshin could imagine the cold, incriminating expressions present on the two captains' faces even without looking at them. The redhead had to suppress a ridiculously childish impulse of standing up and declaring that he didn't do it – that even when he was a hitokiri he would never have bent to killing innocents for any intentor purpose, and that the Shinsengumi was blind not to have seen this. Instead, he closed his eyes for a split second, response neutral and impersonal.

"I see."

"Surely you would know why you are here among the Shinsengumi captains, then."

There was absolutely no beating around the bush; no attempt at concealing identities. The redheaded student could see this little interview as what it was now, an interrogation of three things: his identity as the hitokiri Battousai, his involvement in the two murder cases, and his intent of remaining in Tsutoki High at great personal risk – followed, undoubtedly, by a swift execution that he'd probably deserved anyway.

It was inevitable, though, that the Shinsengumi would be able to deduce his identity based on the murder cases, particularly that of Sanosuke's. Sanosuke, as the Miburo must know, was a rather close friend of Himura's; had always been seen in the redhead's company preceding the murder. Kenshin knew that he had been highly suspected by the Mibu wolves even without the incident; the violent death of Sagara would inevitably single him out in the eyes of the Miburo to a degree that there would be hardly any doubt about his true identity.

That was what the true culprit responsible for the murders wanted, wasn't it?

But to accuse him of murder simply because he was Battousai, the Shinsengumi's former enemy, and that the victims were killed by battoujutsu – the logic was fatally flawed, though understandable. And it was, undeniably, because of his presence that these murders had happened. It was nothing short of convenient to write these deaths off as the work of a notoriously known manslayer. He considered if it was the cause-and-effect cycle of karma that led him to this ironic situation, if it was a repayment for the numerous sins of his past. It was with an air of calm resignation that he faced his former quarries.

"I do. You want to ask about hitokiri Battousai – about me," he said, plainly. Further attempts at dissembling - when the Shinsengumi had exhibited so clearly that they knew who he was - would be a form of cowardice. He would not forgo his honour in hopes of preserving his life.

At that admission, Kondo's eyes became darkly unfathomable; Saitou's fingers played lazily across the hilt of his katana. Kenshin took no notice of their reactions, eyes training straight ahead with the pride of a warrior ready to face his fate.

"You puzzle us in ways more than one, Himura Battousai-san." Okita's voice was quietly inquiring as he stared down at the sitting redhead, eyes uncharacteristically narrow as he assessed his foe.

" You knew that Tsutoki High is the lair of your sworn enemies; yet out of the many schools in the country, you chose to enroll into this particular one. You knew that you would be immediately recognized once you set foot here, yet you deem it safe to face us without weapons of any sort. If you are a spy from the government, then you are the most conspicuous one I have ever seen." A tilting smirk curled the young captain's lips as he surveyed his student coolly. "I'm afraid your actions do not make sense to me, Himura-san."

The redhead noted, absently, that smirking did not suit Okita well.

"There should be a reason, apart from your curiosity, that I am still sitting here alive, Okita gumi-chou." Kenshin countered levelly. Okita smiled faintly, an expression akin to approval flashing across chiseled features. Before he could interpret that expression, however, a derisive snort sounded at his right. The teenager turned to Saitou, who was leaning cross-armed against the office wall, narrow amber eyes trained directly at him. The katana was placed within easy reach of the lanky wolf; Kenshin had no doubt that if he tried anything funny, the blade would be out of its sheath and through his heart in a nanosecond.

"Such insolence, Battousai." Saitou raised a malicious brow at the boy, and was promptly met by a flat glare. "Personally, I don't care about what you think you are doing in our school – it makes no difference whether you are sent in by the government - but you are right on one point. There's something between you and the murders here that have our interest, and for this purpose, you will answer us."

Or you die now.

Kenshin said nothing, pondering the unspoken implication behind Saitou's words with a detachment that surprised even him. It occurred to him that whether he had decided to divulge information made little difference to his ultimate fate – he was the Miburo's arch nemesis, had crushed the old government that they had tried so hard to protect. He didn't expect the Shinsengumi to let him walk away unscathed. The prospect of imminent death moved him little; but since living on was his obligation to Hiko, the ex-Battousai knew that he could not allow himself to die now, meaninglessly.

"Go on."

"The murder of Sekihara is closely connected to that of Sagara's, as you should know very well. As the principal of this school, I will see to it that the deaths of our students are properly avenged. I would not let my school be menaced in any way." Kondo said softly. Kenshin tensed - he could see what Kondo was aiming at; the man's next words were already forming in his mind even without thinking.

"On whose order are you murdering these students, hitokiri?"

He thought of defending himself against the anticipated accusation, considered the point of doing so, and smiled faintly in self-mockery. Let the Shinsengumi assume what they wanted to; it would make little difference in the end anyway.

The next statement surprised him so much that he found himself staring open-mouthed at the schoolmaster, speechless.

"These murders are done in your name, Battousai. And, I should say, in a rather superficial fashion. It is of no coincidence that we are able to identify who you are – it has been revealed to us deliberately. Someone has been scheming behind our backs; and if he thinks that he can get away with it, he is sadly mistaken."

Kondo paused, eyes aflame with intensity as he read the astounded expression on the young man's face.

"So answer me, Battousai. You were absentfrom school yesterday – I want to know exactly where you have been."

Soujiro stole a look at his watch, careful to maintain a saddened look as befitting to the situation. Twenty-three minutes had passed and Himura had not returned. It came as little surprise to the raven-haired student – he'd known, as Himura was escorted out of the lab door, that the redhead was in for an interesting meeting with the Shinsengumi.

He had to wonder why the wolves had decided upon a class announcement when dealing with Sagara's death. It seemed weird to him, somehow – he had expected them to keep this quiet; claiming, perhaps, that Sanosuke had decided to emigrate to Britain, South Africa, or whatever place that came to the Miburo's minds. It would even make sense to say that the rooster head had been kicked out of school due to his terrible conduct. They had certainly done so with the Sekihara twins – what made it different this time around?

He watched, smiling, as Yumi made her move, pulling back her sleeve gracefully so that it would not sweep across the wooden board. Shishio contemplated the piece that Yumi had pushed towards him, head leaning heavily on one bandaged hand.

"These pawns are not moving fast enough for my liking," the burnt man decided, tapping the board with his knuckles. "It seems, now, that we are in a practical stalemate."

This statement elicited a small smile from Yumi and a nod from Houji, but then Shishio laughed; a short, unpleasant sound that had his subordinates looking up in confusion.

"Checkmate, Yumi." He lazily slid a piece forward, grinning at the startled look on his lady's face. It was apparent, by the look on her face, that she had not anticipated such an abrupt defeat. Greatly interested, Soujiro leant forward to examine the finished game.

Shishio looked vaguely amused as he watched his three henchmen gather around the board, each exhibiting different degrees of awe. "When the pawns refuse to move by themselves, it's up to you to move them in a dramatic fashion."

His blood-red eyes were on Soujiro.

Feeling the intangible sensation of being watched, Soujiro tilted his head sideways; his gaze met with that of Shinomori Aoshi's before both turned away in unison. Those ice blue eyes, sharp and analyzing and so obviously knowing, brought a smug feeling to his mind.

"In chess, there are always pawns that consider themselves players of the game. It isn't until the end of the game that they realize what they truly are – worthless sacrifices that allow the player to achieve his victory." Picking up a chess piece, Shishio sneered at it; the wood smoked under his overheated fingers.

"And now, Soujiro, I believe that our chess game is fast reaching its climax."

Ducking his head to face the workbench, Seta Soujiro allowed himself a tiny smirk.