Warning! This chapter is rated M. Not that that really matters to anyone, but just in case . . . you have been warned.
Kenshin's imagination had almost driven him sick by the time his cell door swung silently open. A man clad only in black hakama entered, his dark glossy hair pulled high up on his head in a tight ponytail. A small knife protruded from the top of his hakama, and a curled length of rope was tied around his waist. He carried a bucket in one hand and curious piece of bamboo in the other. The bamboo was thick and over a foot long, and it was cut into slender strands at one end. Kenshin's stomach did a hollow flip and he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.
The man set the bucket down, and when he spoke his voice was unexpectedly soft. "Did you eat?"
Kenshin had been brought food as promised−miso and rice−but he had hardly been able to touch more than two bites before he was giving himself shudders thinking about what was going to happen; if there was a way to convince anyone that he was just a student trying to learn swordsmanship.
The man's eyes drifted to where the still full bowls sat on the floor below the window. "Hm. Well, it was brought at least." With a sharp flick of his ponytail, he turned his attention to Kenshin, looking him up and down. Kenshin sat still on the pallet, trying to appear as small as possible. "I've been told that you are a misguided member of the sonno joui."
Kenshin wanted to say no, but didn't want to provoke an undesired reaction from the man. He would simply sit silently unless asked a direct question, and then answer as honestly as possible. He couldn't be killed for being honest, could he?
"And that you deliberately attacked a caravan of peaceful travelers going to conduct a business meeting."
The urge to speak out against that was strong but Kenshin restrained himself, keeping his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed. Maybe if he never had to say anything−
A hand cracked against his head then, and Kenshin toppled sideways onto the floor. He sat up in shock, holding a hand to his face.
"Maybe you don't know how this works yet." Hakama-man paced the floor in front of Kenshin. "I'm here to ask you questions. You're supposed to give me answers. If you don't," He raised the hand holding the oddly cut piece of bamboo, "I'm here to help you think of answers. Now pay attention: I don't want lies. I want the truth. And if I think you're not giving me the truth . . . well, I have several friends to call in to help convince you." He paused, and Kenshin's stomach flopped again. He hoped he wasn't going to be sick.
"Sakai-sama thought maybe we could try the easy way." Hakama-man began again, and Kenshin remembered that the man called Sakai had said the questioner was called Kobori. "He seems to think you'll be eager to tell us all you know and take a pain-free death."
Kenshin saw Kobori's head was cocked slightly, waiting for an answer. He took several deep breaths, tried to steady his voice, calm the trembling he felt throughout his body. "Y-yes. But-"
"What can you tell me?"
Another breath. He felt a little better now. It would be okay. "I'm not a-a member of whatever that group is. And I don't know what information you want." Kenshin watched Kobori's reaction. The man's expression was impossible to read though. He met Kenshin's gaze, unblinking. Kenshin wanted to look away but maybe it was a test, and if he looked away it meant he wasn't telling the truth, so he forced himself to hold the stare until Kobori finally sighed and began pacing.
"Alright then. This is what I want to hear from you. Names, locations, dates. I know you can give me at least a name and location." He was moving closer to Kenshin as he paced. Kenshin watched his feet as if in a trance−two steps closer, one back−two more closer, one back.
"I can't." Kenshin said finally, looking up at Kobori. "I don't know anything." The pacing stopped.
"The name of your commanding officer? The place you retire at night?"
Kenshin shook his head fervently, trying to convey how truthful he was being. "I don't know, really!"
Another sigh from Kobori. "Okay boy, I tried to help you, just remember that." It was as if a veil dropped over his eyes then, and where before they had been bright and glinting now they looked flat and dull. The sudden change made Kenshin drop his gaze again. "I want the name of your commanding officer." Kobori's voice had lost all softness, and Kenshin's mouth went dry. "Or you're going to find out how good I am with this." Kobori waved the bamboo for effect and Kenshin shivered at the coarse rustle it made.
"I don't have a commanding officer."
Kobori looked towards the door. "Houjou! Get in here!"
There was the rattling of metal, and then the guard who had led Kenshin to his cell stepped inside. Kobori nodded at Kenshin. "He's not being as cooperative as Sakai-sama thought. Let's get started, I already have plans tonight." Kobori pulled the rope from his waist. "Take your shirt off." He ordered.
Wondering at the strange command, Kenshin obeyed, watching nervously as Kobori fashioned a lasso with several expert twists of his wrist. Kenshin didn't resist as Kobori placed the rope around his arms and cinched it tight. He was already used to that anyway.
Houjou took the leftover rope dangling from Kenshin's left side and tied it to one of the rings set in the wall, then came back and picked up the other end, pulling in the slack and holding it.
"Got it?" Kobori asked. He was standing behind Kenshin, and Kenshin craned his neck to see what he was doing. The bamboo stick in Kobori's hand was raised slightly, and as Houjou grunted an affirmative he shook it experimentally. "Turn your head around." That was the only warning Kenshin got before Kobori whipped the bamboo forward, and a sharp slap echoed through the room as nettles of pain burned into Kenshin's left shoulder.
He gasped before he could stop himself and his shoulder jerked involuntarily. If Houjou hadn't been gripping the end of the rope Kenshin guessed he would have spun all the way around. He'd hardly got used to the sensation when Kobori hit him again, in the same spot. Kenshin managed not to gasp but he squeezed his eyes shut. Three more times Kobori hit the same spot, and each blow was worse than the one before, driving the burning deeper and deeper until Kenshin's nerves screamed. Kenshin thought he felt something warm and wet trickling down his back after the fifth hit.
"Still sticking with no names?" Kobori was already breathing harder. As he stepped in front of him, Kenshin saw blood dripping slowly from the bamboo flail in his hand.
His blood. And he could smell it.
"Kobori-san," Houjou said warningly, "I think-"
Kenshin fell forward and retched, clear bile forming a puddle in front of him. Strangely, it made him feel better, even though the pain in his back didn't diminish.
"Names?" Kobori asked again, unfazed by Kenshin's reaction.
"I-I don't-know anything." Kenshin managed, trying to spit the foul taste from his mouth. He saw Kobori shrug, and the man moved to the bucket he'd brought in earlier. Kenshin watched as he scooped up a handful of whatever was in there. Sand, it looked like.
"There's still plenty of good room on your back." Kobori said, and he moved behind Kenshin again, and suddenly a new pain was digging into his shoulder. Kobori was rubbing the sand into his raw back. Kenshin opened his mouth but he refused to cry out. He wouldn't let them know how much it hurt.
Kobori stopped rubbing the sand in and said, "Hold tight, Houjou." A grunt, and then a fiery explosion landed in the soft spot between Kenshin's shoulder blades.
Spontaneous tears leaked into the corner of Kenshin's eyes, and he blinked them away, biting his lower lip to stave off the pain. It hurt even more than the first five blows. It felt like Kobori was hitting him harder too. Maybe that was just his body giving in though.
Kenshin heard the ragged whistle of the flail just before another blow landed in the same place, and his back arched forward, straining against Houjou's hold. Houjou tried to get him to straighten his back but Kenshin couldn't make his body cooperate. Kobori made a sound of disgust.
"Come on Houjou, are you useless?"
"The boy can't do it, Kobori-san," Houjou's face had a green tint to it, and he looked sicker than Kenshin felt, if that was possible.
"Then we'll have to fix that, won't we?" Kobori sneered. "Against the wall then. Get some more sand for me while I move him, he's started bleeding again and the flail's going to slide right off."
Kenshin thought that sounded more desirable than what it was doing now, digging hundreds of tiny grooves into his back. He let his body go limp as Kobori pulled him towards the wall. Anything to put a hold on the torture.
"Does the boy never eat? He's a lightweight." Kobori grunted as he pushed Kenshin flat against the wall, stomach first. "Houjou, pull in the slack on these ropes." Kenshin felt the pull against his arms as Houjou obeyed, and when Kobori stepped back, the ropes did their job, holding Kenshin against the cool stone wall. "Good, good. Bring the sand over here."
Kenshin heard Kobori readying the flail again, felt the burn of sand being rubbed into his back. He closed his eyes in preparation.
The flail rattled between his shoulder blades a third time; then a fourth, and a fifth. He hardly noticed when Kobori stopped and Houjou came shuffling over to rub sand into the new wound. Then the flail bit into his right shoulder, five blows there as well, until he felt the blood running down his back. Kenshin's stomach tensed against the wall with each blow and he thought it must be sore and bruised by the time Kobori was done.
It struck Kenshin that the wall in front of him was wet, and he found himself wondering why. Tears? More bile? He wasn't really sure how long he'd been here now; just that the pain hadn't stopped, had spread completely across his upper back and was moving to his lower back.
Why was he here again? What was he supposed to be doing?
"Kobori-san,"
Kobori-san . . . oh, the questioner . . . the man swinging that cursed flail on him again and again. Somewhere in the back of his head Kenshin was aware of a low, constant sound. A moan. His moan. He couldn't stop, it just trickled out of him, like the blood on his back.
"Kobori-san, please, I don't think you're going to get anything out of him today." More talking, too indistinct and too hard to follow, but Kenshin groaned with relief when his body suddenly slid to the floor, free from the rope that had held it up.
He hardly noticed the sand being rubbed vigorously into his back, or the door opening, or the click of the key as the door was locked from the outside.
Then, finally, sweet silence. Only the sound of his own labored breathing. The floor he lay on was slick with blood and possibly other fluids as well, but he was too exhausted to move. Gradually, enough strength returned to his limbs so that he could pull himself towards his pallet. Even moving just that five feet sapped the energy that had returned, and Kenshin lay beside the makeshift bed, feeling the blood drying on his stomach and hands, feeling his skin pulled taut in response.
It was over, and he wasn't dead. Maybe what Sakai said about dying had just been a figure of speech.
Or maybe there's going to be more. A voice in the back of his head whispered. He couldn't think about any more right now though. He was about to pass out as it was. He had to focus. What was he going to do next time?
Tell them something. Anything. Maybe if he did, they'd let him go. Maybe−his spirits lifted briefly−maybe if he told them about shishou and where they could find him they'd understand that he was just an apprentice . . .
Then Jisaemon and Yoshinobu would have what they wanted. His shishou would walk into whatever trap they were planning. That was the reason they took him in the first place, because they thought they could trick Hiko.
No, Kenshin couldn't do that. He was stuck here, to be questioned whenever Kobori saw fit and to die at the whim of the man they called Sakai-sama. And with that despairing thought, Kenshin let himself fall into the welcoming hammock of unconsciousness.
***
"Arimura-san?" Yoshinobu slid the shoji aside and joined his peer on the porch. Night was falling, and crickets chirped tentatively in the high grass around the small pond. "Our spies have reported that Hiko Seijurou is traveling this way. Quickly. He was last seen in Fujisawa, and he didn't stop there."
Jisaemon's hands tightened briefly around the ceramic cup he held. "Good." He stared into the darkening world, eyes half closed, legs crossed at the ankles and dangling off the porch. The sharp scent of green tree drifted across the porch.
"Do you think it's wise?" Yoshinobu sat next to him and leaned back on his hands as he looked at Jisaemon. "We both know his strength."
Jisaemon nodded. "And that's exactly why we need him. It's only this once, I won't bother him again. Besides," His mouth turned up in a soft grin, "we have an important bargaining piece."
"Yes . . . but you heard what the boy said. He left. Seijurou wouldn't take that lightly."
"No, he wouldn't." Jiseamon agreed. "But then there's the fact that he's already on his way to Edo. We've only been here a day. That means he left very soon after us." He took a sip from his cup. Steam clouded in the cool air. "It will work." He said confidently.
"What he said when we visited though . . . and what the boy told us . . ."
"Do you not observe people, Yoshinobu? I know Seijurou like a book. The man's entire manner suggested the boy means more to him than anything. He'll never admit it, not even to himself probably. But believe me," He nodded emphatically, "He won't be able to lay a finger on us until he's assured of his pupil's whereabouts. That gives us the time and opportunity we need."
"I hope so." Yoshinobu said gloomily. "For everyone's sake." The two fell silent, listening to the crickets as they began to perform in full force.
In the sky, the moon rose, large and red.
I actually read up on Meiji torture techniques (that sounds so sadistic!). This is the real thing! Well, in writing at least. Hiko better get to Kenshin quick.
A/N: I do realize I'm phonetically spelling Hiko's first name wrong (it shoud be Seijuurou) but it's just so many u's that I keep leaving one out, and I can't bring myself to use the completely Anglicized version (Seijuro). *sigh* Sorry guys!
Amamiya: Thanks! That's very encouraging to hear.
t42n24t2: Glad you like my Hiko! "Rescue before revenge" indeed! Kenshin would be happy to hear that.
Ayesha: Disobeying to read my story? *happy tear* But. . . you did review? ;) Good luck with the chem assignment!