Chapter 16: A hero is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to

Hitting the wall, yet again, strong enough to have all the air from his lungs driven out and to forget for a moment where was up and down and what exactly was happening, Katsura was nonetheless very aware of the fist rushing his way with the speed that would probably crush his skull. Or any other body part. He was aware, in that detached, numb way that he would not survive the punch and he knew that he should move away, just as well as he knew he would never gather his wits on time.

When he did manage to find his bearings after the collision and the punch still hasn't come, Katsura forced himself to focus on his surroundings in more detail, to figure out what was going on. There weren't many choices anyway and it was probably Gintoki, who has engaged Kamui into-

He flinched when he saw a person in a Shinsengumi uniform flung violently at the same wall he was resting against. He winced at the vibrations he felt when he realized, even before he could identify the officer, that there was only one possibility: Alma Karma. No other Shinsengumi would attack Kamui to save him.

His first instinct was to rush in and help, because surely that crazy woman didn't know what she was getting herself into, however, his torn apart injury chose that moment to remind him of its existence and he hissed, moving his other hand to the wound. The sharp sting of pain cooled his head as well. He realized that somehow Alma has fared much better than he, against Kamui, and that without his katana he was useless in that fight.

Also, he realized that Alma hasn't come alone and it took a lot of effort to not curse at the sight of Hijikata and Okita. He latter seemed more focused on Kamui, ordering Alma to draw back but the former was glaring at Katsura with animosity and distaste. Surely he would not let it slide that a wanted terrorist was in the castle of Edo.

Impossibly enough, he couldn't have been more wrong. The first captain and Kagura took on Kamui, which was probably very lucky for him and Gintoki. The vice-commander made some half-hearted comment about arresting him after they get Takasugi and off they were. Alma helped them pass through the fight without pausing and they ran down the dim corridor without looking back.

As they ran, Katsura did a quick, mental inventory of his state. The gash on his right arm was open and bleeding again and his left wrist was hurting, but not enough to be broken. He probably had a mild concussion from at least one of the times he has been thrown against the wall. He was pretty sure Gintoki has also suffered from concussion, but he supposed the idiot wouldn't notice that. His face was badly bruised, but Katsura hasn't seen any injuries otherwise.

It could have been worse, he supposed, but it sure could have been better. The dead guards that guided their rushed footsteps have all been shot, so it stood to reason that Takasugi was rested and uninjured.

They only slowed down at the first corridor junction they encountered, unsure where to go until Gintoki noticed, almost hidden by the turn of the corridor, dead guards. They rushed past the next two adjacent corridors, once because of a heap of guards ahead, once because they could see that the adjacent corridor led to a small room.

The fourth junction was easy as well, with a guard leaving a bloody trail as he crawled. They ran past the useless corridor without as much as a glance to the side.

'That was Katsura and the White Demon,' somebody yelled. Only the Kiheitai would address Gintoki like that and as footsteps rushed behind them, Katsura stopped and, bending his knees somewhat, turned around, designed a wide arc with the blade of his bloody katana.

He cut down two of the assailants, slashing open their lower bellies. From behind his right shoulder, Gintoki speared a third one right through his chest. Continuing his move, Katsura straightened and stepped to the left. Gintoki jerked his katana to the right, blade screeching against the Kiheitai's ribs.

The remaining Kiheitai took a step back, but Gintoki and Katsura didn't have the luxury of leaving the enemies at their back.

Simultaneously, they stepped forward and slashed diagonally, their katana missing each other by a hair's breadth.

With desperation, the Kiheitai charged. The two first fell immediately, but another managed to swing his katana in between Katsura and Gintoki and, for the fear of having his left arm wounded as well, Katsura stepped to the side.

The Kiheitai stumbled forward and another followed, looking confused as to where and how he managed. All the same, they now had enemies of both sides and Katsura didn't hesitate in the slightest to turn around and trust his back to Gintoki.

The Kiheitai in front of him were wearing Sakamoto's coat of arms on their haori. It irritated Katsura beyond belief that Takasugi dared to use that coat of arms, or his kanji or white.

With a growl, he took a step away from Gintoki and feigned an attack to the right. When the Kiheitai closer to him stepped forward from the left, aiming for the seemingly open side, Katsura changed the direction of his swing immediately.

The man wasn't fast enough in his block or retreat and Katsura's katana cut off his hand. Blood erupted from the severed extremity, splashing all over Katsura, as the Kiheitai howled in pain.

The sound of screaming covered the noise made by the other opponent and it was a split of a second too late that Katsura moved away from the attack, unable to block it. His back hit Gintoki's, right as the tip of a katana sliced his side shallowly.

Inconsequential, he thought.

He lifted his katana to parry the next attack and push the Kiheitai back.

A shout warned him this time and he stepped to the side, away from the one-handed Kiheitai, rushing at him with a short dagger. The man cut air and skewered himself on Gintoki's katana.

Katsura glanced back, eyes widening as he registered a bloodied Kiheitai, his face nearly split open by a gash, charge with a yell. At the same time, he heard his own opponent's swing cut the air. Without hesitation, knowing what was the most efficient, he turned around and thrust his katana forward, straight into the Kiheitai's abdomen. At the same time, Gintoki finished turning around as well and slashed diagonally. The yell faded. Two bodies fell to the ground with a dull sound.

Katsura leaned on Gintoki, panting from the short, but intense fight. Gintoki leaned against him as well, for the time of two breaths. Then he patted Katsura's shoulder and they stepped away, assessing each other's state.

Gintoki's white yukata was splattered with blood and Katsura had to blink away the memories. Most of the blood was from the Kiheitai, however, because Katsura could only see a few cuts, but nothing appeared serious.

'Let's go,' he breathed. Adrenaline would give them the strength to run. Gintoki nodded and they stepped over the dead bodies without as much as a glance.

They stepped over the fatally wounded, stunned guard as well and they ran. Nobody else stopped them. Dead guards marked the way and eventually they heard footsteps ahead. When they turned a corner, they saw a pink-clad, blonde, infamous sniper running behind a man dressed in a violet kimono with butterflies.

'Takasugi,' they yelled, speeding up. Their ex-comrade didn't even glance back, only sped up his own steps, but the sniper who accompanied him did. Seeing them and, judging by the slight widening of her eyes presumably recognizing them, she stopped and pulled out two guns, facing them with confidence and determination. She was fast. She almost didn't aim.

Shots sounded.

Katsura jumped to the left to avoid getting hit.

Just as a thought that she wasn't too good after all crossed his mind, he felt burning pain in his left temple. As the realization that she has grazed him with a bullet hit, Katsura stumbled in shock and nearly fell and that probably saved his life as another shot passed over him. Blood starting to trickle down the side of his face, he caught himself and continued, evading the shots with more care.

They needed to get rid of that woman, he thought. Gintoki probably got the same idea. With a yell, he charged head first, focusing her attention on himself. Katsura saw him dodge one, two, three bullets without breaking a stride. He saw him jump for an attack, saw the blond sniper aim and shot. He saw the bullet hit its target just as Gintoki swung the katana down.

The tip of the katana drew a red gash across the blonde's torso, jerking towards the end, when Gintoki flew back with the force of the shot. As he fell back to the ground, stumbling at the landing, she staggered backwards. They both collapsed against the opposing walls of the corridor.

Takasugi didn't even look back. Katsura cursed and ran up to the wounded.

'Gintoki,' he breathed, dropping at his friend's side. Where did she shot him? How serious was it? Frantically, he tried to uncurl his friend to check, only to have his hands brushed away.

'Go, idiot,' the white-head hissed through gritted teeth. His breaths were coming in short gasps and he was holding one hand pressed to his side, blood staining his white yukata. 'I'll catch up,' he added, looking up. One look into the red eyes reassured Katsura that Gintoki really meant it and he didn't hesitate.

'You better follow,' he muttered, getting up. He didn't bother checking the sniper, but he did pick her guns up and threw them to Gintoki. The white-head glared at him, wordlessly demanding what he was supposed to do with that, but Katsura paid it no heed.

Takasugi was already far ahead, and so Katsura ran after him, faster than he has ran in years. He ran with the katana in both hands, raised parallel to the floor on his side and when he caught up with the offender, somehow, despite the burning pain in his lungs, he swung. For a split of a second he thought it would be childishly easy, but Takasugi turned and blocked the blow, eyes flashing with fury.

With his katana, Takasugi pushed Katsura away and Katsura stumbled slightly.

'I see the White Demon sacrificed himself for his general yet again,' Takasugi mocked as they faced each other. Katsura gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not pant with exertion. They both knew it wasn't that: Gintoki simply figured it was the fastest way to get rid of the obstacle and went about it without thinking. Katsura sure didn't ask him for that sacrifice. 'He's an idiot. You're wounded. Do you think that wounded you stand a chance against me?' Takasugi asked. As he has predicted, Takasugi looked and moved like someone well rested and uninjured.

He was probably right, Katsura thought, but said nothing. Instead, he readied himself for an attack, because he knew Takasugi well enough. And he was not disappointed.

The sound of steel clashing echoed in the dim corridor almost before Takasugi finished speaking. Determined, Katsura deflected his attack and then another one and manoeuvred Takasugi into a position where he could easily parry and attack. Then it occurred to him that they would be in a better situation if Takasugi was facing away from Gintoki and he cursed inwardly.

As he took a step to the side, he pretended to stumble and Takasugi took the bait. He swung his katana down, forcing Katsura to block it and side-step further to the side. Takasugi narrowed his eyes and attacked again, seemingly angry when this time Katsura managed to execute all his steps flawlessly.

'What are you playing at?' he growled. Did he catch the reason for the previous stumble? It wouldn't be all that surprising. After all, Katsura has been better than that when they were fellow students and comrades. He was better than that even now, except the wounds were starting to bother him.

But if Takasugi had realized what Katsura was doing, he shouldn't have fallen into the ploy. So Katsura allowed himself a small smile, before he took a step forward and swung the katana parallel to the ground, forcing Takasugi to take a step back or fend off the swift attack. He wasn't disappointed when Takasugi chose the former: it was a way to save energy.

He wondered briefly if Takasugi could tell just how much Katsura didn't want to be there, how much he did not want to be considering how to disable the man in front of him without having to kill him.

'It's not a game anymore, Shinsuke, it has stopped being one when you targeted an innocent girl,' he replied to the question, even though it was far too late. Takasugi laughed out.

'How chivalrous of you, Zura,' he mocked. Before Katsura could correct him on the use of his name, he jumped forward, katana raised. 'Let's stop playing then.'

Takasugi moved faster than before. He feigned an attack on the left and when Katsura moved to parry, kicked his exposed, injured arm. A sting of pain destabilized him for just a split of second, but that was all Takasugi needed. They were both more or less on the same level as swordsmen and, without bragging, Katsura knew it was a high level. When Takasugi swiftly executed a standard disarming manoeuvre, Katsura was just a tiny bit too slow in changing the grip on the hilt of his katana to successfully counter it.

He felt himself lose grip on the katana's hilt and he saw Takasugi thrust his own katana forward a split of a second later. A brief thought that it was the end and a flash of disappointment were swiftly wiped from his mind as the pain exploded. For a moment that was all he could think of, before realizing that the pain was radiating from above his ribcage. How curious.

He heard his katana clatter to the ground.

'You missed,' Katsura said with a faint smile. He wanted it to sound mocking, but he wasn't sure if he managed. All the same, Takasugi growled furiously and drove the blade deeper and whatever else Katsura might have wanted to say changed into a pained gasp.

He forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly, willing the pain away. With difficulty, he moved his right hand to put it on the blade, wanting to grab it and pull it out, only to realize that Takasugi used it the sharp side up, that bastard. The edge easily broke through the skin on his fingers. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and another, faint smile found its way to his lips. It seemed that was it for him, for the moment.

Takasugi's face blurred for a moment and Katsura knew it was a matter of moments before he'd faint from blood loss. However, looming behind Takasugi, stood the White Demon, face twisted in an awful grimace, and Katsura closed his eyes. Truly, that idiot always showed up in the last moment but he always showed up when needed.

'I never wanted things to go like that,' he said, unable to come up with anything else to prolong the moment and keep Takasugi's attention on himself.

'I don't want to hear your sentimental crap,' Takasugi growled angrily. Katsura looked straight into his eyes as Takasugi pushed the blade a few centimetres deeper, a nasty grimace on his face. He was so close now that their foreheads touched and Takasugi's elbow was pressing into Katsura's chest. Katsura's hand, resting lightly against the edge, left a red trace on the gleaming steel. He could feel his blood trickling down his fingers in small rivulets, dripping.

Behind Takasugi, the White Demon raised his katana, silent like a ghost.

'I see. I guess that's the end, Shinsuke,' Katsura whispered, aware that Takasugi would misinterpret his words. It didn't matter. Everything went black before he could hear a reply, if there was any.

5 points for anybody who got where the title of this one is from ;)