Chapter 5- Misuteri

"Waking already?"

Misao's eyes shot open, as she reflexively jerked her body up. A hand quickly took her shoulder and pressed her down.

Her vision was blurred and disoriented as she turned her head to look about her. She was lying on her back, the cold stones digging into her spine. She shivered and tried to blink in the dim light that surrounded her, trying to remember…

The memory came rushing back. She struggled to scramble to her feet, opened her mouth to scream, but powerful arms wrapped around her and pushed her back to the floor, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped as she collapsed and then doubled over, the sound of her vomit splattering against the stone floor echoing loudly in her ears.

The dark-cloaked figure shoved her away and Misao groaned as her back hit a wall. She blinked and shook her head gingerly, trying to clear the spots from her vision.

"No more of that," the familiar voice warned. "Or I shall use the ether again."

Misao swallowed the foul taste of bile in her mouth and grimaced as it seemed to scrape against her raw throat.

"Who are you?" she rasped, leaning forward in the dimness. She could only make out a shadow.

"You will know soon enough."

There was a scuffling of boots and the swish of a flowing cape as Misao saw the shadow turn and the creaking screech of a iron hinges rubbing against each other as a gateway was opened.

"Stupid gate," the voice muttered, thrusting it forward. The figure turned to look over its shoulder and there was a smile in its voice. "I made it just for you. It wasn't here before."

There was the sound of soft footsteps. A young man in a dirty gi and a strange grin on his face came and stood beside the cloaked figure.

"Yes Soujioru?" the figure said, stepping from behind the gate.

"They are in the front corridor," the young man said, the smile never fading from his lips.

"Good." The shadow jerked the gate into place and locked it with a long key.

"What would you have me do now?" Soujirou's face was expectant and bright, like a dog that wants to do tricks for its master.

The figure was quiet for a moment. "Stay here and watch her. I want to meet them alone." Misao felt unseen eyes from the depths of the hood stare at her. "She won't be any trouble. Give her some water later."

Soujirou nodded eagerly and even gave a small bow as the cloaked figure brushed past him.

She shuddered as he turned his empty smile towards her. Somehow, he scared her the most, with that constant unreadable expression perpetually frozen on his face.

"How is your leg?" he asked.

Misao looked down at the red blistering skin, realizing that the pain had subsided to a dull ache that she barely took notice of.

"If it doesn't pain you much now, then enjoy it while it lasts," Soujirou said matter-of-factly, leaning against the grimy bars of the gate. "You're still feeling the effects of the ether. But it will wear off soon."

She turned her head, unwilling to listen to him any longer. Nausea continually raged in her insides and the room seemed to tilt back and forth. She looked up and saw the light from an overhead window shining above her. The light was a deep gold color. The color of twilight. As she gazed at the shaft of light that fell on the opposite wall, she was absently reminded of the color of Aoshi's coat collar.

Closing her heavy eyelids, she let her thoughts wander aimlessly, her body still under the effects of the drug. In her mind, she went over her kicks and punches, like Han'ya had often instructed her to do before she went to sleep. She could still hear his raspy voice, guiding her movements when she practiced.

"Up and punch! Level your fist out into your center. Not too high…then thrust down…"

o-o-o

Kenshin looked around him in the dim corridor. Hundreds of thick candles flickered in the gloom, casting moving shadows on the cobwebbed walls. Dust lay like a thick blanket on all of the furniture and electric lights, long out of use. As he looked, he couldn't help but remember the night he had first stepped into this mansion.

How long ago it all seemed…the night he had gone to rescue Megumi…the night he had met Aoshi…the night the Oniwabbanshuu had been murdered…

He glanced up at Aoshi, who stood like a stone statue, his hand gripping the hilt of his kodachi so that his knuckles were white. He didn't look around him. He only stared straight ahead, a blue fire burning in his eyes with dark intensity.

He hadn't spoken a word since he had told Kenshin about the apothecary. But he hadn't been able to hide his shock when Soujirou had led them to the front gate of Takeda Kanryu's mansion. He had paused before entering through the gate. He wore a guarded expression, but Kenshin saw what looked like angered pain in his eyes.

"Kanryu commited suicide in prison soon after he was arrested for opium and firearm smuggling," Soujioru had informed them as they had walked up the long overgrown path towards the mansion's doors. "The government seized the property and it's been deserted ever since." He laughed softly to himself. "Makes it all the more easy to use for our secrecy."

Now, Kenshin warily eyed the corridor. The dancing shadows played tricks on his eyes, and it had been some minutes since Soujirou had left them there.

"Make yourselves at home!" he had called cheerfully before he had disappeared down the hall.

Kenshin felt uneasy as he turned and tested the door's handles. They were locked in.

"Aoshi, what do you remember about this mansion?" he asked, fingering his sakabato. "Are there escape routs hidden in these walls?"

Aoshi didn't answer him, nor did he turn his stony gaze.

"And where is the most likely place that they would have hidden Misao-dono?"

Still, Aoshi didn't acknowledge anything he had said.

"Aoshi, please," Kenshin whispered.

"Welcome."

Kenshin turned his head, startled. A figure stood in the dim yellow candlelight, little more than a lithe silhouette.

"Forgive my lack of light," the voice came from the depths of the hood that covered the speaker's face. "I tend to prefer the dark."

Again, Kenshin glanced around the corridor. But nothing lurked in the shadows. The figure appeared to be alone.

"Where is she?" Aoshi's voice was dangerously menacing.

The voice laughed a low, breathy laugh. "Still the same, I see. Have the years not taught you to be patient, Aoshi?"

Aoshi blinked, and his brow furrowed as he peered farther into the dimness.

"And you. The rurouni." The figure turned to Kenshin. "I didn't request your presence."

Kenshin said nothing, concentrating on the voice that came from the black shadow of the hood. He couldn't tell if it was male or female. Too smooth to be a man's. Not falsetto enough to be a woman's.

As she turned back towards Aoshi, he saw the glimmer of a blade that was attached to the end of a long bow, strapped across the figure's back. His grip on his sakabatou became even tighter and he slowly relaxed his legs into a fighting stance.

"No matter." The figure waved a black-gloved hand dismissively. "It is only natural, I suppose, that you keep company with such a one as the Battousai. You, the okashira of the Oniwabbanshuu."

The figure took a step forward. "You haven't changed, Aoshi. I see it in your eyes. They are the same as I remember them. Always lit with a cool flame, always icy. Never soft or tender. Except when you would look at me."

o-o-o

Aoshi unconsciously backed away from the advancing shadow. His heart began to pound like a death drum and a shiver seemed to shake his insides. It couldn't be…

The voice laughed again. "It is truly amusing. You wear a mask of jaded callousness, like the mask Han'ya would wear for you. But it was always I who seemed to be able to break it. It seems that I still can."

The figure lifted its graceful fingers and slowly pulled back the hood ever so slightly. Aoshi inhaled sharply, and he stared, incredulous.

"Takara," he whispered, barely able to speak, feeling the blood draining from his face.

She smiled thinly with her pale lips. Her green slanted eyes were hard, full of bitterness.

"You still remember, then," she said in that unique voice he now recalled. "I had wondered if you had forgotten."

He said nothing. He couldn't move. His chest felt tight and he could only stare.

o-o-o

Aoshi's expression was full of open shock and he seemed stunned, as if he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. His mouth was parted in surprise and Kenshin heard his breathing become short, as if he were choking.

"We have come for Misao-dono," he said in a firm voice, drawing the woman's gaze to meet his. Her eyes reminded him of cat's eyes. Focused, proud, and…like a death sentence on its prey. They seemed to glow pale green in the flickering candlelight.

He barely had time to take a breath. One arrow whirled past his temple as he jumped to the side and swung his sakabatou. There was a swift snap of wood as his blade struck a second arrow aimed to the right of his chest, the clatter of the small metal tip ringing like a tiny bell against the floor.

His eyes widened even as he realized what he had done. His mind calculated it even faster than he could react. His arm was down at his side, having hit the second arrow out of his range. But this had left his wrist twisted into an odd angle. He wouldn't be able to block in time…

Kenshin gasped as a third arrow hit its mark, at the exposed base of his neck, close to his throat. Gritting his teeth, he yanked it out, hoping to stop the spread of the poison. But his vision was already tunneling, everything becoming gray and dark.

"Even the Battousai fell for my double-arrow trick." The woman's strange voice sounded like it was far off, echoing in his mind. He blinked heavily, took deep breaths, trying to fight the heaviness settling in his limbs. But his legs buckled beneath him and he sank to his knees. His sakabatou slipped from his fingers and clanged harshly across the floor, and he groped for it with trembling hands. He froze when a boot planted itself on its blade, holding it down firmly.

"It's nothing personal," she said, her words seeming slurred to his ears. "but I've been waiting for this moment for fifteen years, and I can't have you spoil it for me." She shoved him roughly to the ground, so that his cheek was pressed against the cold marble floor. "Sayonara."