Chapter 6-

Everything was still. Aoshi could hear the hissing of the candles as the wicks burned down low. Takara hadn't moved from where she stood, over Kenshin's still form, her bow clenched in her hand.

"It's just you and I now, Aoshi," she murmured, taking a step towards him. "Like it was, so long ago. Remember?" She stared at him squarely and took a step towards him, her face full of longing. A hopeful smile flickered across her pale features as she gazed into his face.

He looked away and shut his eyes for a moment, repressing all the thoughts that were rushing to his head like a violent storm.

"Remember, Aoshi? Remember when we would sit on the battlements, late into the night?" Her voice was different than it was before. It was quiet, imploring, gentle. "You would tell me about your dreams, your nightmares, everything. You would sit close by me-"

"Enough." His tone was sharp. She recoiled as he looked up at her with hard eyes, her face dark with hurt and surprise. "I don't want to hear anymore." Remember Misao. Remember why you came.

All at once, she stiffened and her expression became stony, any traces of tenderness vanishing.

"I came for Misao," he said evenly, surreptitiously unlocking his kodachi out of its sheath with a soft metallic ching.

"You shall not have her," she said simply.

"What?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

"You heard what I said. You shall not have her…" She smiled slowly. "Until I have finished."

That was it.

Something inside of him broke. His control was gone. His blood sang with fury, rage flooded through him like a tidal wave. With a deep-throated cry, he drew his kodachi and lunged at her, crossing his blades in front of him, aiming at her white throat. There was the heavy clang of metal against metal and he found himself inches away from her face, looking from between the blades.

She laughed as she thrust her bladed bow from its block, making him stagger backwards.

"The Goko Juji," she said. "Don't look surprised. I know all of your technique. I only learned it from the best."

She lifted up her bow and held it in front of her, obviously preparing for another attack. Her eyes were tinged with amusement as she watched him, his hands trembling as they gripped the kodachi, his breathing ragged and heavy.

"I drugged her with ether," she said quietly. "She struggled to get free, but-"

He swung his body into the Kaiten Kenbu, slicing off her words as he spun in midair. He clenched his teeth, reaching out to slash with his blades, preparing for the sound of metal ripping flesh.

There was a flash of white-hot pain through his head. He gasped and crumpled to the ground. The kodachi clattered to the floor from his suddenly limp hands. Warm blood trickled from between his fingers as he gripped his head, dripping over his hand and onto the floor.

"I know you too well, Aoshi." She stood over him, pointing the tip of the bloodied blade in his face. "That was why you ultimately hated me."

He couldn't respond. He just lay there, panting, suddenly exhausted. He blinked as sweat and blood dripped into his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to sooth his burning lungs.

There was the sound of retreating footsteps down the hall. He barely noticed them as he stared at the tiled floor. He tried to regain control of his pounding heart, but he couldn't focus.

He was terrified.

What had happened to him? His control, his steady thinking. It had vanished like a whirlwind in that moment when she had taunted him, replacing it with wild rage, reckless fury. Just like it had all those years ago on that night when the Ikazuchi had attacked and she had been…

No, not again…

Feeling disoriented and bewildered, as if he was waking up in a place he didn't know, he looked around the dim hall. The light from the candles was beginning to dwindle. He slowly stood on shaking legs, carefully sheathing his kodachi with unsteady hands. He stumbled over something in the darkness and looked down at Kenshin's still body.

For a moment, he felt alarmed and he quickly knelt down beside him. But when he held his fingers over Kenshin's mouth, he could still feel breath, shallow and short.

With a grunt, Aoshi hoisted Kenshin's limp body over his shoulders and slowly stood. The door opened easily under his touch, and when he turned one last time to peer into the gloom, he fancied he could see two glowing green eyes watching him as he quietly stepped over the threshold and into the fading light of the evening.

o-o-o

Megumi was straightening the last of the bottles on the shelves, her arms feeling as heavy as if sacks of rice were hanging from her wrists. Her feet ached terribly, along with her back and neck.

"If anyone needs a doctor, it's me," she muttered to herself. She was looking forward to going home, taking a bath, and going to bed.

It had been a long day. Even Gensai-sensei usually so full of stamina to last, seemed to be weighed down by weariness, his wrinkled face drooped with fatigue by the end of the second baby delivery they had done that day. Then there had been that boy who had needed his arm to be reset. Megumi's ears were still ringing from his screams.

She winced when there was a sharp knock on the door. Sighing, she stared at the shelves, reluctant to open it. She wished she hadn't sent Gensai-sensei home early. He had the practicality of mind to be able to send some away when they called for her because of petty illnesses. She simply hadn't the heart to turn anyone away, no matter what the circumstance.

But when the knock came again, more insistent this time, adding a headache to her list of pains, she knew that she would have to try and steel herself against any pleas. There was a midwife down the road, who would be more than happy to take some of Megumi's customers for herself.

Taking one last determined breath, she went to the door and opened it slightly.

"I'm sorry," she began. "But we're-"

She stopped, her words caught in her throat. Aoshi stared at her, blinking away blood that trickled from a gash across his forehead. He carried a limp body over his shoulders. From behind his red hair that was covering his face, she could see Kenshin's pale face, twisted up in pain even in unconsciousness.

Immediately, her weariness was replaced with a sense of urgency as she opened the door wider, standing aside so that Aoshi could pass through.

"Come in," she whispered. "Quickly!"

Without a word, he stepped over the threshold into the small clinic.

"Over there," she said, gesturing to a cot on the floor.

She watched and gathered up her long hair as he carefully laid Kenshin on the cot. His movements were slow and sluggish, and he sat with his back against the wall, closing his eyes with a short sigh.

Megumi lost no time as she bent over Kenshin, inspecting the small circular wound at the base of his neck. It had swollen into a deep purple color, caked with dried blood. Using a damp cloth soaked in sake, she began blotting it away. The wound oozed fresh blood, and Kenshin stirred, moaning incoherently.

"It looks like poison," she murmured anxiously to herself.

"It is."

She glanced up briefly at Aoshi. He still had his eyes closed as he spoke. "Will he die?"

Placing the back of her hand on Kenshin's cheek, she shook her head. "No. He isn't feverish." She paused and looked at Aoshi, but he never opened his eyes. "What happened?"

"It was an arrow," he said dully, dodging her question.

Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she gently cleansed the wound. The skin was still swollen into a large purple welt. Kenshin's breathing was becoming more and more even, but he didn't awaken, even as she had struggled against his dead weight to bind the cloth around his shoulder and neck.

But she hadn't dared to ask Aoshi for assistance. Even as she took a bottle of calamine and knelt beside him, she couldn't help but feel the irony of the situation. Especially since she still couldn't help but feel wary in his presence. For the first time since she had known him, he wasn't an enemy, nor was he threatening to take her life.

Quite the opposite, in fact, she thought grimly.

Pouring calamine on a fresh cloth in her hand, she lightly pressed it against the cut across his forehead. His eyes opened and she was struck by how blue they looked against the red blood that covered most of his face. But there was something else that remained in his face, something that Megumi had never seen before. His eyes had a haunted, lost look, as if trying to forget the horror of a lingering nightmare.

He only kept her gaze for a moment before quickly averting his eyes.

"It's not a very deep cut," she said quietly, pouring more calamine on the cloth. "But head wounds bleed excessively."

He brushed away her hand as she lifted the cloth towards him again.

"I have to leave," he said, still not looking at her. He slowly began to stand, moving as if his body ached.

"But it isn't safe." She jumped to her feet quickly. "You can't walk out into the streets bleeding like that."

"I'll manage."

He went to the door, but hesitated as he placed his fingers on the handle. "I'll send someone from the Kamiya dojo to get him tonight."

Megumi watched silently as he slipped into the streets, softly closing the door behind him.

o-o-o

Sanosuke paced in the courtyard of the dojo, muttering to himself, his hands shoved in his pockets. Kenshin still hadn't returned, and the night shadows were starting to close in over the sky. He could hear Kaoru inside, making a lot of noise in a sorry attempt to make dinner. He knew that she was anxious, but she did her best to hide it.

That won't help her cooking, unfortunately, he thought. He kicked the washing tub ruefully, wishing he were anywhere else but here. He hated waiting. He was beginning to feel some sympathy for Kaoru, now understanding what she usually had to go through when she was left behind. The tension he felt was tormenting him, even though he had total belief in Kenshin's abilities to fend for himself.

"Feh. You're getting as bad as she is," he said to himself as he lowered himself onto the wooden platform. "Just wait. He'll be back with that gloomy jerk, and then you'll laugh at yourself for freaking out so much."

As if an answer to his thoughts, the dojo doors opened and one figure stepped into the courtyard. In the darkness, Sano could see the long white coat.

"Hey," he said, standing quickly. "Where's Kenshin?"

Aoshi motioned for him to lower his voice as he stepped up to him. From the light spilling from the interior of the dojo, Sano could see the blood that covered most of his face.

"Whoa, what's going on?" he asked anxiously, his stomach turning to ice. "Is Kenshin alright?"

Nodding, Aoshi spoke in a low voice. "He's at Takani Megumi's clinic. Though he's unconscious at the moment, I need someone to get him back here tonight."

"Unconscious? What happened?" Sano asked worriedly.

"I can't explain it all now. Perhaps he will when he awakens. But you need to find a way to get him here. Megumi is waiting."

"How am I supposed to get him back?"

"I don't know," Aoshi answered as he turned back to walk towards the dojo doors.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Sano demanded, feeling very bewildered.

But Aoshi didn't answer him. He quietly slid past the dojo doors, leaving Sanosuke standing alone in the courtyard.

o-o-o

Aoshi sat in the darkness, staring at the four headstones in front of him. The night was cool with stormy winds, threatening to open watery floodgates. The usual sounds of a summer night were quiet in the chilly breeze, adding to the weight of dread in Aoshi's mind.

Takara.

Thoughts tormented him, bits of memories he had hoped long forgotten, bringing a cruel cold emptiness with them. He struggled to clear his mind, to concentrate, but it was a fruitless effort.

Standing restlessly, he looked down at the headstones. There was no sharp pain of grief as he gazed at the rough-hewn stones. Only a dull ache of sorrow, like a wound that is never fully mended. It was a fresh pain that now plagued him. The memory of a young girl's face, her eyes full of tears as she gazed at him, imploring…

Misao.

Aoshi shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed. No, Misao had never looked at him in such a way. It was someone else, someone on a dark night, in the dim corridors of Edo castle…

Takara.

Rubbing his hand through his hair in frustration, Aoshi slumped against the bark of a tree. He felt like a traitor. He had sworn to protect Misao. She trusted him, adored him. Any time he spoke to her, her eyes shone. But his thoughts were obsessed with the woman who was threatening her life. He felt like a man under a spell.

It was like that then, he thought, looking up at the brooding clouds above the treetops. I could never focus when she was near me and I was never able to get her out of my head. It controlled me like a puppet on strings…Dark anger flared up in him like a kindled fire. But never again. Never again.

Resolution filled him as he straightened, wiping away the blood that caked his face. He would find Misao. And he vowed to do it, even if it meant killing the one who had once loved him the most.