Kenshin raced through the streets of the once great city of Kyoto, now reduced to blazing towers of light and piles of ashes. The smell of burned paper and seared flesh permeated the air, causing him to choke and sputter despite the cloth pulled tightly about his face.
He wanted to wipe the sting of sweat from his eyes, but that would require lowering his guard and closing his eyes for a few precious seconds, a distraction he could ill afford.
Screams and groans echoed in his ears along with the steady pounding of his footsteps; he ignored all of it as best he could, focused on reaching his destination. He needed to rendezvous with the others in his unit; the Shinsengumi were picking off stragglers and he knew his skills would be sorely needed to fight off any challengers. They had all been caught unawares tonight and many had already paid the ultimate price for their negligence.
Kenshin recoiled as a slender form bolted out ahead of him, the sheen of steel in the firelight only just enough warning of his foe's intentions. He cut him down without a second thought, feeling the warm spatter of blood on his skin. His vision wavered for a moment, the heat almost enough to bring him to his knees; deep breaths did nothing to clear his head, instead causing him to gasp and choke on the smoldering air, throat dry and hoarse.
He coughed into his sleeve, swiftly blinking the tears from his eyes before he started off again. He was no longer sure if the tears were from the strain and smoke or from the despair that seeped into the depths of his spirit. Kyoto wasn't much of a home; it was a battleground and a burden, but it was all he had, everything he had come to know lie in ruins around him. The bastards would pay.
They had never meant for this to happen, he knew. It was not directed at the citizens of the city itself. The original focus of this wanton destruction was to have been the Ishin Shishi; if there had been even one level head among the passionate Shinsengumi perhaps the city might have been spared, but asking a Shinsengumi to think beyond the point of their blade was rather like asking a stone for water- pointless. Foolish, even.
Kenshin skidded around a corner, caught sight of a beleaguered comrade and rushed to his aid; his sword slid neatly through the menacing samurai, parting flesh and muscle as though it were no more than butter. He wrenched the sword free and nodded once to the survivor, off again when the man opened his mouth to thank him. This was his duty, he didn't require thanks.
Ahead he caught sight of a gathering, civilians all, laboring to put out the flames; he could have told them it would never work, dry wood and rice paper made a wonderful feast for the all-consuming flames. As he neared, the inhuman screams finally began to resolve into words… and hearing them he desperately wished they hadn't.
"Please, not my baby! Please!"
He could see her ahead, face smeared with soot and white ashes sprinkled in her tangled hair; a taller man supported her, holding her to him even as she scratched and bit and kicked, trying to get to the wreckage of what must once have been their home. Men and women scurried about, beating at small pockets of flame with clothes soaked in precious water, trying to pry away the burning refuge to find a way inside.
Kenshin paused for the briefest moment, arrested by the tableau. He could do nothing here, he needed to move on, but the sheer agony in every gesture held him. These were the ones he was truly supposed to be protecting, these weak and vulnerable ones; it was all for them and part of him wanted to sheathe his blade and join in their effort. Looking at the building, he knew the child must already be dead; it was impossible for anyone to survive-
And then he heard it, a thin wail just rising above the crackle of the flames and the despairing cries of the others. The mother must have heard it too, she redoubled her efforts and the man holding her called for help, ignoring the nails clenching into his skin until blood flowed.
That decided it; he could not pass by, not even for the sake of his brethren. Before the thought had consciously formed he had already sheathed his blade and was halfway across the square. The water and cloth would do no good, the object now was speed and if anyone could manage this it would be him.
No one objected when he pushed one of the other men aside and began scrabbling at the burning refuse, moving quickly to avoid the singing flames. It was too hot this close and he began to feel lightheaded after only a moment. No time. He snarled as the flames leapt at him, licking his fingers and sending a bolt of muffled pain through him. Later he would feel it, for now his mind was too focused on the task at hand.
He could still hear the strangled sobs of the child within; it was a goad that kept him moving even as his knees seemed determined to buckle and his legs to fold.
"You! Take the other end!" The man he had fixed with his glance hurried over to grab the other end of the wood, wincing as splinters and embers abraded his skin. He needed no direction, they both heaved until at last the beam fell apart and they could toss it aside. The whole cursed building was going to come down and he was probably going to be trapped in it. For a split second he hesitated before pushing inside.
Over the years Kenshin would often catch himself thinking on that one moment of indecision, wondering if all might have gone differently had he moved faster. He would assure himself that between the blinding smoke and the searing pain in his hands it had been only natural to pause; he would reason that in such a short space of time nothing would have changed. Somehow his assurances always fell short; if time washed away all else and his vow someday cleansed all his sins still he would carry that burden to his grave.
It was cramped enough that Kenshin was forced to go to his knees, sword dragging along the ground behind him, for once an unwelcome interference. He pushed through the heat anyway, ignoring the way the burns on his wrist had begun to ooze. They were numb now, and though he knew that was by no means a positive development he was grateful for the release from the distracting pain.
The small body was just ahead, still twitching, chest stuttering in short, rapid breaths. Head spinning, Kenshin pushed away the refuse that had pinned him, gritting his teeth at the child's renewed screams. They were small and thready, not enough to hurt his ear even as he cradled the child to his shoulder, but they afflicted him all the worse for their weakness. The babe writhed against him, scorched skin damaged further by rough cloth and grasping hands. There was no time to adjust his grip, they had to be gone.
Now Kenshin held precious few memories of the minutes that followed, only impressions. He remembered the feel of the boy's ribs beneath his abused hands, struggling to draw breath in the smothering heat. He remembered the feel of strange hands tugging at him, patting his back, grabbing for his arms to pull him from harm's way. The feel of dirt and splinters beneath his knees when he finally knelt, fighting to draw another breath, the mother's frantic hands freeing the child from his grip and her despairing sobs when she realized it was already too late.
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After that it was all blackness until he woke again on a tatami mat, draped in a blanket with his hands resting at his sides.
Kenshin took a few precious minutes to wake, surprised to find that somehow he had survived. And the boy? Did he live? Kenshin turned his head to survey the room, just able to make out the shadow of another man with his blurry sight.
"Kosugi." He meant to speak, but it came out as more of a hoarse whisper.
"Battousai."
It was a few seconds more before he could place the name. He nodded feebly, trying to clench his hands only to find they were bound tightly with linen.
"You were badly burned. Touch and go for a few hours there; the wounds were infected. You've been raving with fever for almost two days now."
"The boy." Kenshin croaked.
Kosugi's face hardened, "Dead. Along with many of our allies. They were counting on you for assistance. But I suppose the child was more important." Kenshin could hear the bitterness in his tone; he never would have interfered in something that didn't involve his battles.
"His pa-"
"The mother hanged herself yesterday. Can't find the father, I guess he's dead too. Didn't do much good, your heroism."
Kosugi would never have dared to speak to him in this manner had he been well, but he wasn't angry. He deserved every last word.
His head felt too heavy to support him and he fell back onto the futon, eyes drifting closed once more, the throbbing pain in his hands just returning and a terrible weight settling on his chest.
"Yes, you sleep. The rest of us will pick up the pieces." He heard the sliding screen open and shut and only when he was sure he was alone did he begin to sob; a hollow, dry sound. All his tears were gone, consumed in the flames of the revolution.
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Kenshin paused to draw a breath, throat tight and eyes stinging with the tears he couldn't shed then and wouldn't shed now. Kaoru's warm weight nearly knocked him over as she fell into his arms, her hands twining around his neck to hold him close. He allowed himself to accept the comfort this once, to let go of the guilt for a few precious seconds and just feel something alive and dear resting in his arms, someone that he could still protect no matter his past sins.
So many lives lost for his hesitation, innocent and blooded alike. So many others left to atone for his sins and weakness while he yet lived in peace, undeserving…
"It wasn't your fault, Kenshin. It wasn't." He could hear in her voice that she was shedding all the tears he dare not. He held her close and let her weep for both of them, drawing some comfort from the broken sounds. Her tears soaked into his shirt and onto his skin and still he stayed there, perfectly quiet, not sure if he regretted sharing this with her or not. He did not want to pain her, but a weight had been lifted from him at the words. To hear it once from another that it was not his doing, that would be enough to spare him the guilt for awhile at least.
He would still hear those helpless screams in his nightmares, that could not be avoided, but perhaps in his dreams at least he could forgive himself for not being quite fast enough.
Kaoru's hands on his face brought him back to the present, a soft kiss on either one of his cheeks, she held his damaged hands, pressing soft kisses to the burns still scattered on his hands. It was his undoing.
Kenshin finally wept.
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Sorry, final exam season. Updates might be a little delayed, but I will try to get a little more up before the tougher ones come