"'Where has God gone?' he cried. I shall tell you. We have killed him, you and I. We are his murderers."
(Friedrich Nietzsche)
Rurouni Yahiko
A Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction Continuation by Chester Castañeda
Would you believe it took me nearly a decade to get to this part?
Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, Viz, Sony Studios, Fuji TV, Studio Gallup, Studio Deen, and ADV. This disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted material that are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.
Chapter 23: Shadow of Your Former Self
Shogo Amakusa shattered the floor and leapt up into the air as he attempted to dodge and deflect the bullets, rising into a continuous tumble as his spine jutted out in a right angle before he stabbed his katana at the ceiling above him to delay his inevitable fall. He then dropped towards Tetsuo Akahori like a missile, his forehead bleeding with a single red line.
"There's a reason why there's a limit to everything. I won't say that nothing is absolute because that's a contradiction in and of itself, but I will say that perfection doesn't exist in nature. There are no symmetrical petals or mountains forming perfect cones. Even in the bacterial level, randomness and irregularities are the norm."
In merely three seconds flat, Akahori activated his pistol's cylinder release, emptied the spent casings with the ejector rod, took a loaded speedloader from one of the bandoliers slung underneath his clothes, inserted it into the chamber while the casings were still airborne, and shot at Amakusa's feet twice... one shot missing, one hitting its mark, which was an old wound... before either the speedloader or the casings hit the ground.
"Yes. Nobody is perfect for all have sinned and fell short of the glory of God. Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence."
Amakusa swung at Akahori's scalp and the latter blocked the religious revolutionary's strike with the gun's cylinder while keeping the barrel aimed at the crucifix-shaped target on the redhead's chest.
"Perfection is an abnormal concept that'll cause anything natural to stagnate and decay. Any attempts in achieving perfection will be met with destruction. To save the world, I will set the boundaries and limits needed to rescue it from the evils of idealism, corruption, and other absolute extremes," Tetsuo said.
"Are you promoting mediocrity now, you bastard? Are you suggesting that people shouldn't dare become unique or special, because it's not normal or natural? That's utter nonsense!" Shogo rebutted.
Amakusa parried the pistol to the side with his blade and smashed the scabbard that didn't belong to him into Akahori's nose, drawing blood and creating hairline cracks on the lenses of the curtain-bearded man's spectacles.
"Have you come up with that illogical conclusion by perceiving an incomplete world with your own limitations? Then enjoy imperfection. Celebrate it, if you must. When the perfect comes, the partial will be done away."
Pirouetting in order to sheath his blade while the stunned Akahori struggled to recover from the unexpected blow, Amakusa gave himself ample room to finally serve justice to the corrupt official as well as avenge the deaths and centuries-long suffering of his people with the perfect sword-drawing slice.
Shogo halted his planned battoujutsu in mid-release, his sword half-unsheathed as his internal organs slammed into his battered frame and fractured ribs thanks to the upsurge of inertia and his forceful stop.
Right in front of him stood the impassive Rin Akahori, the real-life snow lady's arms outstretched while her sniveling father remained hidden behind the folds of her lengthy kimono. For a half-blind girl, she moved quite fast and accurately. "O-Ojousama...!"
"You've become a step slower."
Four consecutive bangs were heard, and Amakusa fell to his knees. Four bullet holes simmered and smoked from the loose fabrics of Rin's outfit, not one bullet touching the pallid body of the Akahori daughter.
Although the Kakure Kirishitan was already hurt before he even stepped into the confines of Akahori's guestroom while all but one shot landed on his person, that lone bullet nevertheless proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back.
The muted noise of what sounded like a roaring stampede or a bottled maelstrom of lightning and thunder went unnoticed by the trio, their minds drifting off into another world or plain of existence.
"AKAHORI! YOU VIPER! YOU FALSE PROPHET! YOU ANTICHRIST! You'd use your own daughter as your human shield? I swear, after I slaughter you, no one will dare mourn for you or gather your remains for burial! You will be scattered on the ground like manure!"
The Oyakata squatted from behind Rin and holstered his gun. His entwined hands then formed a triangle that covered his bleeding, twisted nose and framed his smirking lips. "If you are who you were six years ago, then you would've had my scalp flying in the air even before my daughter could step in to protect me. That saya you stole didn't help matters much either."
The immaculate light of red and white burst forth at the center of Amakusa's crucifix-scarred chest while the peaceful spirits of Lady Magdalia and the Soldier of Christ, Shozo Lorenzo, appeared from behind the Savior of Shimabara and the Second Coming of Shiro Amakusa as a form of support.
"Ojousama, forgive me. Pray for your father as he descends into the pits of Hell while you yourself rise into Heaven."
A misplaced hair on the blank-eyed Rin's forehead was split in twain, Amakusa's katana an eyelash away from her face as Soujiro Seta winked into existence and parried Shogo's battoujutsu with his own self-taught sword-drawing technique, their swords both singing a resonant tune in praise of their mutual skill.
Geysers of woodchips, fabric, fur, and plaster flew across the room from behind the teenage-looking boy as he redirected Amakusa's blade away from his personal Yuki-Onna. "I'm sorry I'm late, Akahori-san. Rin-san. This house is so big! I found you only after I followed the sound of gunfire and strange, religious curses."
Soujiro had to block twin combination strikes from what appeared to be one battoujutsu slash by doing a Ryu-Sou-Sen-like maneuver himself. The serene swordsman's wide eyes continued to glint long after he impeded the zealot's attempt at murdering the entire Akahori family in two strokes of the sword.
"Like I said, you've become a step slower, Amakusa." Tetsuo chuckled. "Let me introduce you to the Juppon Gatana's Ten Ken, Seta Soujiro-kun."
"Akahori, you...!" Shogo grunted before jumping away from the bright, zigzagging streaks of lightning produced by Soujiro's refurbished Kikuichi Monji sword.
"Here are some fair words of warning, Amakusa. Seta-kun is Shishio Makoto's right-hand man. You were barely able to survive against fifty-five people who served as my bodyguards, and not all of them were trained police officers at that. On any given night, any one of the Ten Swords is capable of killing fifty officers; some of them can do so in under one or two hours. The Heaven Sword is the best swordsman of all the Juppon Gatana. Good luck."
Despite its many rooms and the inn-like structure of Akahori's abode, Yahiko pressed on with his search, checking out as many places and quarters as he could find in order to locate Amakusa or Akahori in time, hoping against hope that his mission remained a protective one instead of a belated quest for revenge.
As he went deeper into the seemingly endless hallways and floors of the immense manor, he heard the unmistakable deafening thumps that was forever carved into his consciousness thanks to his one-sided duel at the bamboo-filled forest of Shinshu's East Valley.
He gritted his teeth. "Shukuchi." The Heaven Sword had at last come back to Akahori's Mansion in Shinshushin.
Before he became aware of it, his body followed the thumping sounds of familiar footfalls by instinct, his heart throbbing in cadence with the hoof-like thuds of the so-called Psycho-Kid's Reduced Earth technique. 'Just like before.'
The pounding became louder. Eventually, he saw visible evidence of Soujiro Seta's presence: the curved grooves and pockmarks created by the equestrian sprints of the youthful swordsman's powerful legs.
After following the foot indentations on the wooden floor for a couple of minutes or so, Yahiko ended up arriving at the guestroom of the western-style Shinshushin mansion, which was about one-third as large (and not as high-ceilinged) as the ballroom that the Three Stooges and Amakusa recently demolished.
He would've liked to see the area in perfect condition, wondering what the crushed and slashed sofa coaches, shattered chandeliers, ripped-up carpet, sliced potted plants, smashed fireplace, and broken windows had looked like before the Juppon Gatana's Heaven Sword and Nagasaki's One-Man Army ravaged and devastated the whole room with their high-paced battle.
Yahiko tried to move from his position inside the door, draw his sword, and avenge the deaths of Minoe and Gan as well as countless others within the Akahori Manor, but for some reason, he couldn't. Move. A. Muscle. He stood there, bewitched by the dance of death that the hyperaroused Amakusa and the uncatchable Soujiro engaged in, their auras clashing like the waves of the sea against the wails of the tempest.
This was what Shogo meant when he described himself as a force of nature. While Kenshin waited for Soujiro to come to him after realizing how much slower he was against Shishio's prodigy, Amakusa did the exact opposite and started leveling the playing field by literally leveling the floor so that the Ten Ken had little place to run. Instead of untying a knot, he decided to cut it: a valid tactic, by Yahiko's estimations.
The twice-struck nine wounds all over Yahiko's body flared anew and sent shockwaves to his nerves and spine after Amakusa declared, "Kuzu Ryu Sen!" and again turned himself into the multi-armed Kannon in one-eighth of a second.
With a smile that probably didn't betray his inward gleefulness over knowing something Shogo didn't, the imperceptible Soujiro replied, "Kuzu Ryu Sen!" and countered Amakusa's Kannon by transforming into an Asura with nine "arms" instead of six.
Although Soujiro lacked proper form with his self-taught Nine-Headed Dragon Slash, he more than made up for it with the momentum of his high-velocity gallop. In turn, even though Amakusa lacked Ten-Ken-level speed, he more than made up for it with leverage, power, and a fine-tuned understanding of the ultimate offensive charge. Henceforth, a deadlock occurred.
The clash of nine powerful strikes times two resulted in a tumultuous stalemate of sorts that forced Yahiko back into the double doors from behind him, the entire room shaking and warping from the destructive might unleashed by the two swordsmen's respective attacks.
'I don't believe it. Amakusa, whom Gan beat to a pulp and whom I was able to hit a couple of times earlier, can keep up with Psycho-Kid with little to no problem whatsoever? Was that damn Christian assassin holding back on us earlier? I didn't realize he could move so fast!'
Yahiko narrowed his eyes. 'Or is it Psycho-Kid who's playing with Amakusa like a cat would a mouse?'
Just like with his fight against Kenshin, Soujiro's speed and unreadable heart allowed him to move right behind Amakusa and slash the vulnerable insurgent's back, only for him to backpedal away in one-sixth of a second after Shogo twirled around and parried the strike with a "Ryu Kan Sen!"
"Whoa," Soujiro exclaimed before whistling with widening, crescent-shaped lips. "I honestly didn't expect that last strike. I'm guessing that the blood caking all over your body was mostly somebody else's!"
Behind Soujiro's complacent smile lurked understanding, a raised heart rate, and an overflow of adrenalin. He assumed earlier that Amakusa was merely aping another person's sword style for the most part, but after crossing swords with him while using Kenshin Himura (now Kenshin Kamiya) as a point of comparison, he recognized that the movement the insurrectionary displayed was unmistakably Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu in nature.
'Instead of two, I now have three interesting people to look forward to: Himura-san's prodigy, Himura-san's doppelganger, and Himura-san's contemporary who'd also studied under the banner of the legendary Royal Soaring Heaven Sword Style.'
Yahiko couldn't exactly describe it, but for some reason, he didn't think Soujiro was at a disadvantage at all despite the fact that the boyish swordsman had yet to land a solid shot against Amakusa.
His eyes never leaving the curious spectacle of what seemed like a literal army of Amakusa's afterimages... or, as the loopy ninja-wannabe Minoe would've called them, "Kage Bunshin"... chasing after the floor-rendering mad dashes of the mostly invisible Seta, the Tokyo Samurai Descendant tiptoed into the corner of the demolished guestroom.
The two combatants never noticed Yahiko's presence even though he never utilized stealth techniques worthy of a spy or a shadow warrior. They presently resided in a whole other dimension that could only be accessed by those who had reached their level of sword mastery.
"Well, color me surprised. Myojin-kun! You're still alive," a gruff voice from behind Yahiko greeted right after the boy realized the presence of two other people. "I thought for sure that Amakusa would've finished you off by now. This proves my theory that he's not as powerful as he used to be."
"Oyakata-dono. Or rather, Akahori. You don't sound the slightest bit guilty about using police officers and spies to do your dirty work for you. I can't say I'm surprised," Yahiko snorted and snarled as the temptation to push the middle-aged official into harm's way rose.
"Why should I feel guilty? They chose to accept this mission on their own accord instead of taking care of that recent mess at Chichibu. They want Amakusa dead. Thanks to them, I will help grant their wish soon enough," Akahori explained, his right index finger resting over the bridge of his nose and the rest of his hand covering his mouth.
The Tokyo Samurai Descendant backed up towards the pair until he was beside them, shoulder-to-shoulder, while keeping his eye on the furious volleys and exchanges from Shogo and Soujiro. Once he faced Tetsuo, he blinked and stared at the white-as-a-ghost visage and petite body of the demure girl right beside him.
The Tokyoite then remembered that this was the same young woman whom Soujiro rescued in the middle of Amakusa's attempts to storm Tetsuo's proverbial castle. "Miss Akahori, I presume?"
"Rin. Akahori Rin. It's a pleasure to meet you," was Rin's monotone reply, her haunting irises moving in hypnotic, circular motions that Yahiko drowned in before she again refocused her attention on the battle at hand.
She flinched and retreated to her father's arms from time to time thanks to the intense sparks and flashes from the whirling blades and Amakusa's bright halo of sword energy that produced what would be called forty-seven years later as the stroboscopic effect.
'I guess she's not the talkative type. Huh.' Her skin and hair were even whiter than Enishi's, while her eyes reminded Yahiko of how Kenshin described Tomoe to them. To him, she was like a living marble statue. He soon noticed the bruises on her arms and the bullet holes in her kimono. 'What the hell happened there?'
The hairs at the back of all three spectators' necks rose as the clangs stopped in an abrupt fashion. For the first time since Yahiko entered the room, Soujiro's whole self became visible for more than a mere fraction of a second, his smile as rigid on his lips as his body was at the moment.
"Shin no Ippo," Akahori breathed, and sure enough, Yahiko espied rays of red and white flash from Shogo's saucer eyes, his hypnotic stare coiling around the Ten Ken's body like a swamp full of thick vines and water snakes. Amakusa jumped, his sword held high, before he let gravity assist him in cutting down the supposed strongest swordsman of the Ten Swords.
"When it comes to employing the best technique at any given situation, Amakusa has few peers. This much I can admit. He's also at his limits right now, his rush of adrenalin and his self-hypnosis giving him the strength to move his battered frame even when it's unwise to do so."
"Wait, what are you talking about, old man? What do you mean by 'unwise to do so'? He's keeping up against Psycho-Kid just fine!" was what Yahiko would've said had Soujiro not recovered from the desperate One-Sided Heart attempt and scaled the walls to meet the plummeting Amakusa head on while airborne. 'Buddha be damned; does Psycho-Kid even have any weaknesses?'
"Ryu Kan Sen Tsumuji!" Amakusa thusly reacted to Soujiro's allegedly limitless Shukuchi, rotating his hips and turning his body into a whirling dervish that clashed against Soujiro's feet-propelled strike and sent the both of them plunging down to the ground. They then made two bowl-shaped craters right below them with the impact of their descent.
Bullets of sweat covered Amakusa's body, the caking blood washing down to his kimono and staining it red and brown. "H-How's that? I'm aware of how you fought Battousai back in Shishio M-Makoto's mountain stronghold. I've replayed our impending fight in my mind thousands of t-times over even though this is the first time w-we've crossed swords. I can k-keep up with your vaunted speed with a Divine Speed that s-surpasses Battousai's D-Divine Speed!"
"I haven't had a death match since I fought Himura-san. Come to think of it, that wasn't a death match at all, since he wouldn't dare kill me in the first place! Thank you for this opportunity, Amakusa-san!" cheered Soujiro while slinging his drawn blade over the back of his neck as though it were a practice sword made of oak.
'What's with this child? I can't sense any bloodlust in him at all. His moves are hard to read, and it's tiring to always rely on my reflexes at the last minute in order to keep up with his movements!' Shogo deliberated to himself.
"Although I'm not a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, Seta-kun has what I'd call the smile of an Enlightened Buddha," Akahori boasted, and Yahiko rolled his eyes.
Those same brown irises then darted over the sighing Rin. Yahiko could've sworn that the ghostly girl rolled her eyes as well, but disregarded it as his imagination.
Soujiro chuckled while tapping the blunt side of his signature weapon on his shoulder and the tips of one of his sandals on the floor.
"You've kept up against my One-Step Shukuchi. Himura-san couldn't even hit his Kuzu Ryu Sen while I used the Shukuchi with two steps before it. You've really impressed me, Amakusa-san. It's such a shame that this battle has to end soon."
"W-What...?" Amakusa sputtered before Soujiro's multidirectional assault commenced. The fountains of shredded shards from the Ten Ken's hurtling onslaught were twice as tall and voluminous as before. By instinct, Shogo again picked the correct technique against such a dire situation: a Ryu Sou Sen that slashed at every last empty space before him.
However, the No-Step Shukuchi traveled so fast that the usually accurate Amakusa hit nothing but air this time around and turned into a hemorrhaging spring of cascading bodily fluids. He kept on slashing, desperate to avoid amputation or decapitation by cutting Soujiro first, unable to use the presence of blood thirst and murderous intent to read his moves.
'All this time, even with the help of self-hypnosis Rai Ryu Sen, I was only able to keep up with the Ten Ken's second-to-fastest speed? You've got to be kidding me! What kind of a man is this Heaven Sword?'
The Ten Ken announced in no uncertain terms, "I have and I always will be... faster than the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu!"
"He's only been playing with him so far!" Yahiko exclaimed, and Akahori corrected, "Not exactly. Amakusa hypnotized himself to numb his pain and to move fast enough to counter Seta-kun's Shukuchi. While under this self-induced spell, he had a chance, however small, to win or at least injure my head bodyguard."
Tetsuo went down on one knee, his teeth biting his gloved hand's knuckles as he watched his plans and predictions unfold without a hitch.
"Ergo, the best way to handle his desperate, all-or-nothing gambit with zero risk on Seta-kun's part is to let him waste his energy battling a Ten Ken who only employed half of his strength. After all, it's always wise to substitute leisure for labor during such circumstances."
'Even until now, he has that smile on his face. Hearing about his cold-bloodedness is one thing, but witnessing it in action is another thing altogether. Are you really that numb to killing, Seta Soujiro? How I wish I were the same as you in that regard,' thought Shogo.
Yahiko's ears perked up after hearing a feminine whisper that asked, "Is this your answer, Seta-kun? Are you okay with this?" He turned towards the small, cream-haired Rin, her steel eyes unblinking as the halo of variegated lights from the wheezing and winded Shogo's body faded to oblivion.
"I-I have wiped out many nations, devastating their fortress walls and towers. Their cities are now d-deserted. Their streets are in silent ruin. T-There are no survivors to even tell what happened," ranted Amakusa to himself before he again gave chase to the impervious phantom known as the Ten Ken. He might as well have been chasing rainbows.
Amakusa answered the grounded Reduced Earth with a series of aerial Ryu Kan Sen maneuvers. All they did was buy him time.
'And here I thought the Battousai opened your eyes and heart back in your duel at Shishio's stronghold. What happened since then? Shouldn't you feel rage or determination with every strike you take? Instead, there's always a hint of curiosity in your eyes every time you swing your blade, your expectant smile asking the questions, "How strong have I become?" or "Was I too strong?" to your opponent.'
The whole chunks of the floor or whatever was left of it lifted up and crumbled into smaller yet smooth shapes... cubes, prisms, tetrahedrons, octahedrons, and trapezohedrons as well as truncated, rectified, and snubbed forms... of all shapes and sizes. The ditch that Shogo and Soujiro dug appeared carved out of chisels by how polygonal it appeared.
"That was an interesting spell you used against me when your sword and my gun clashed for the first time, Amakusa. Rai Ryu Sen, was it? I've heard that that was your favorite technique during your battle against a thousand men," Tetsuo brought up as though he were merely talking to Shogo about the state of today's weather.
Amakusa's blood grew cold and curdled after hearing Akahori's claims. Everything that could go wrong in his mission did go wrong.
"The funny thing is, this time around, you have to use a glass globe full of hallucinogens to activate it. Let me guess. You can't do it on your own anymore, right? You're run out of drugs after using all three of them against my daughter, myself, and yourself! Wouldn't a Lightning Dragon Flash be useful right about now?"
Rin gasped. Even though she believed that her father didn't anticipate her kidnapping, he was still able to use it to his advantage by figuring out that Amakusa would have to waste his special technique on her. What would've been his plans had she not been kidnapped and Amakusa had one Rai Ryu Sen left to use, she wondered. 'He probably has a contingency plan for that too.'
Amakusa screamed Akahori's name and lunged at the self-satisfied, bespectacled man, which earned him a fresh new stab into his left thigh care of Soujiro. Just like Yahiko during the earlier stages of his fight against the Heaven Sword, Shogo couldn't even land a strike on Seta's blade any longer, much less his body. He was a sitting duck against the relentless power of the Shukuchi.
"At this point, you can't even live up to the reputation of you killing over a thousand men. That Amakusa is long gone. He already died six years ago. It's time to face facts. You're past your prime. Even though you're obviously willing to sacrifice your life to kill me, that's not enough to bring me down."
"That's my line, old man!" the Battousai of Style decided then and there to live up to the legendary reputation of the original owner of his latest new moniker by sheathing his sword and falling into battoujutsu stance. The complacent Soujiro went through the motions of intercepting the expected Sou Ryu Sen attack, only to disrupt the rhythm of his Shukuchi after realizing that Amakusa deployed a completely different technique altogether.
"Sou Ryu Sen Ikazuchi!"
Akahori's glasses fell off from his face, its frame front that connected the two lenses together cut in half along with his nose from its tip to its bridge. It took a second for the meaning behind the blinding pain and the warm, spurting blood that dribbled from his face to his shirt to sink in his cocksure head. He fell, cried, and rolled on the ground howling nonstop an instant later.
"FATHER!" Rin cried out to her parent, but Yahiko restrained her from moving any further lest she got too involved in the scuffle and ended up a victim like Kenshin's first wife, Tomoe Yukishiro, did. He quickly let go upon seeing how easy it was to bruise the pearly skinned maiden.
"Rin! Stay where you are! Don't get involved!" the Oyakata commanded even though he hypocritically used her as a shield earlier on. His daughter didn't listen though, moving right by his side and offering a handkerchief to ease his bleeding.
As for Soujiro, although his unimaginable speed helped save his boss from getting a split-open cranium as though it were a watermelon during the watermelon-splitting game of Suikari at the beach, the delay from the unexpected sheath-first battoujutsu left him wide open to a bone-smashing strike to the hip. His smile remained, but his buckling knees, strained lips, and moist eyes betrayed his agony.
Gan's earlier reproach echoed within Shogo's flickering awareness. 'In many ways, you too had to fight to earn the right to your name. Your greatest enemy was the Amakusa Shogo... oh, wait, sorry; the 'Second Coming of Amakusa Shiro'... that your people thought you were. You failed to live up to your hype, didn't you? Even though you supposedly killed a thousand soldiers and policemen, countless other Kakure Kirishitan died in your watch. What a damn shame.'
'Even though Uncle Hyoue ran away from his own responsibilities like the coward that he is, I won't do the same. Even though there are those who cannot take the pressure of being the chosen one, I will not falter. I won't break down from the lofty expectations of others. I'll instead exceed them! I will turn myself into the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost if that's what it takes to liberate all Kakure Kirishitan from the oppressiveness of this sinful earth. Even if I have to turn into the Devil himself, I'll do so for the sake of my people.'
Yahiko picked up his jaw on the floor. Although the Ten Ken recovered from the blow a couple of seconds later, this was the first time the young samurai wannabe saw firsthand a strike land on the untouchable Soujiro's body. 'Shit. Now it's Amakusa who's turning into an unstoppable monster. Who's going to win this fight?'
The fighter left standing so far, Amakusa, raised his bloodied sword to the sky and pointed his borrowed scabbard at the fallen figures of Akahori and Seta. "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. I shall become the Divine Savior of the Hidden Christians. I will fulfill the hopes and dreams of my people with every last ounce of divine strength within this flesh-and-bone container."
While still holding his nose and bloodied face, Tetsuo rebuked, "ENOUGH! Give up. You've been crucified, tortured, betrayed, immolated, cut, scourged, shot at with guns, and blasted by cannons. You're nothing but a shadow of your former self. You have nothing left to give. It's impossible for you to win at this point."
"With men, it is impossible, but to God, all things are possible." On that note, Amakusa returned his sword to its borrowed scabbard and fell into a sword-drawing stance. The room went silent. Even the breaths of everyone present turned softer and wispier.
To everyone who was aware of the implications of Amakusa's actions (which basically included all of them but Rin, but she was quick on the uptake anyway), the tense atmosphere was perfectly justified. Even Soujiro, who could take the torment of a hip strike with a smile, waxed pensive over Amakusa's last stand.
"Don't hesitate, Seta-kun. He's already done for. His own continuous hesitation has brought his body to its limits despite his skill. You only need one more strike," advised Akahori while holding his daughter's handkerchief over his split nose. "He has already betrayed himself and what he stands for. He won't even have the power of will to spur him onwards any longer. Finish him now."
Nodding at his boss's words, Soujiro slashed at the exposed concrete of the wooden floor, produced two intersecting crescent ruts, and sheathed his Kikuichi Monji into a saya that actually fit. "I will not be victimized by your school's succession technique again. I've already tasted its power and saw how it's done. Rejoice. You've made yourself worthy of tasting my only named technique, the Shun Ten Satsu."
The Oyakata then faced the prowling Amakusa and said, "I wasn't able to kill you the last time we met, but I left you dying. Hoist by your own petard. Did you realize when you started to die? It wasn't through the wounds inflicted by those one thousand men you killed. You started dying because you killed a thousand men."
A single tear rolled down Amakusa's eye. Otherwise, his battle-worn body remained perfectly still, never blinking, not one voluntary muscle of his twitching. Because he'd discovered in short order that he wasn't fast enough to lead an assault against Soujiro, he decided to swallow his pride, wait, and counter the Instant Heaven Murder as it happened.
The loose and untroubled Soujiro pondered while waiting for his chance to attack, 'I wish I could've fought you six years ago, Amakusa-san. It would've been a glorious battle. By my estimations, you would've given even Himura-san all he could handle and more thanks to your ultra-aggressive version of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. You're even a lot faster than he is, from what I've observed.'
Amakusa's focus became so sharp that he could see the pores on the mostly unmarked Heaven Sword's skin and the details of the debris-filled remains of the guestroom even from that distance. The high-definition sharpness of what he perceived made him feel as though he entered an entirely alien world full of colors he didn't know the names for and haven't even seen before as well as intricacies he normally wouldn't notice.
'However, judging by your performance today, you would've been defeated completely by Shishio-san had the two of you ever got the chance to fight. Like Akahori-san, he is also the kind of person who'd use mind games and attack you during your lowest point in order to win. You're too naive and straightforward to beat Shishio-san. You wouldn't even stand a chance.'
Unbidden, Akahori himself fired the gunshot that forced the two to hurtle themselves at each other and test the limits of their respective battoujutsu: a bullet that would've torn Amakusa's nose off had he not ducked down to avoid it. 'Every delay counts. Your time is up, Amakusa. Like Odin, you've finally fallen. This is now your Ragnarok, and Seta-kun is your Fenrir.'
As soon as Soujiro saw Amakusa's left foot sink into the ground within both of their striking ranges, Soujiro retreated in an instant to the faraway crumbling fireplace behind him. Afterwards, with his own eyes, the Ten Ken confirmed Houji Sadojima's crazy stories about the Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki's ability to create a vortex even after it missed, which assisted the follow-up strike by doubling its power. His heart raced as he giggled with childish glee. 'This technique is even better than I imagined.'
"AMAKAKERU RYU NO HIRAMEKI!"
As per Akahori's orders, once he saw Amakusa's back turned, the Ten Ken blasted off with the Shukuchi and unsheathed his sword in supersonic velocities that wouldn't only cut the Christian in half, but destroy a good portion of the entire house with two dueling sonic booms.
Soujiro also sunk his stance low to avoid letting the destructive vortex suck him in, arrest his movements, and set him up for a destructive upward diagonal slash. However, even with the Reduced Earth technique, by the time he got there, the centrifugally powered blade of Shogo was already a whisker away from shearing his upper torso off of his body.
"Shun Ten Satsu!"
The colliding blades helped buffer the eventual slash that reopened the vertical portion of Amakusa's crucifix scar and kept the Instant Heaven Murder from cleaving the rebel in half the same way Soujiro saw Shishio kill a policeman the first time they met. In turn, the cut that sliced part of the Ten Ken's vest open was only skin-cutting deep instead of bone-cutting deep.
The Sword of Light and Darkness clattered to the floor while Amakusa's Hyoki no Jutsu trance ended. The injuries he sustained from head to toe... from his cannon-seared thigh to his twice-pierced stab would; from his cut to the eyebrow to the myriad of bullet wounds in his body; from his reopened nail wounds to his countless lacerations; and from his closed-fractured ribs to his aching arm tendon... chose that moment to make their presence known, burning the cult leader alive with the flames of agony. Sadly, Shogo didn't even have the power left to scream.
Yahiko's body sagged as he breathed out the word, "Wow." He didn't know what else to say upon seeing firsthand what the Shun Ten Satsu truly was. He barely saw what happened. Amakusa and Seta both disappeared in one second, and the latter was left standing afterwards. However, the implications and results of that Shukuchi-powered battoujutsu were as plain as day.
In the fever pitch of Yahiko's battle against Soujiro, would the Tokyoite have been fast enough to counter the sword-drawing technique that was probably just as fast (although not as strong) as the Amakakaru Ryu no Hirameki? The boy suppressed a shudder. He would've probably ended up underneath a shallow grave, serving as worm bait.
"I-I've won." Soujiro grabbed hold of his mouth and lips, as though he couldn't believe the words that came out of them. As he knelt down, he saw stars and let out a screech that sounded more like a delighted squeal. The right-thigh part of his hakama became sticky with blood thanks to a perfectly sliced wound that went agape as soon as he knelt down. '...Did I really win?'
Soujiro turned his head to be greeted with strands of white and blonde hair and the shaking eyes of the white-as-snow Rin. Because she'd given her handkerchief to her father, she instead ripped part of her holey kimono sleeves and tied it to the torn part of the Heaven Sword's hakama.
"My apologies, Amakusa. If you and the Ten Ken had fought six years ago, then it would've been a closer fight. However, even back then, he'd still be faster than you. He's the fastest swordsman alive!"
Amakusa groaned as a pool of warm blood formed underneath him. This time around, his stillness was more of a matter of him not being able to move a muscle on his own free will instead of him choosing to become motionless in anticipation of an upcoming attack. "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Rin looked over the fallen form of Shogo, her darting irises and pinkish skin filled with goose flesh trembling as one while she reminisced about the quiet yet hectic cross-country ride she and her imposter coachman had from the Tsugaru docks to Shinshushin Town while she pretended that she was none the wiser to her "driver" kidnapping her.
She had said that he couldn't win against her father if he remained the way he was. She told him so. His heart was too unsure and hesitant for him to be the one to ultimately finish Tetsuo Akahori off.
"How exactly did I kill a god? It wasn't through swords, or spears, or arrows, or bullets, or cannon balls. No, you kill a god by making him go against the very thing he's supposed to stand for. Belief in gods is belief in an ideal. By proving an ideal wrong, you turn a god into a myth. A joke. A fairy tale told to children to scare them to sleep. A lie."
Shogo Amakusa lifted his head towards the unseen skies beyond the ceiling and whispered, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" before Akahori shot him in the head. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" was what he meant.
"What's going on?" the dazed Yahiko surmised while rubbing his eyes raw to confirm the truth of what they beheld. "Holy shit." He woke up from his reverie in time to leap at the gun-toting Akahori before the politician blasted Amakusa's brains out for good.
'What the hell am I doing? Why should I stop the Oyakata? Amakusa killed Gan, Minoe, and entire squads of policemen and spies, not to mention a thousand soldiers back in Shimabara, if the rumors were to be believed. Why should I save him now? I should let him die!'
Yahiko remembered Amakusa talking about his uncle's unwillingness to kill, which also reminded him of Kenshin's similar pacifistic ways the first time he met him.
As a ten year old, the teenager waved off the ex-rurouni's non-killing vow and niceness as a reflection of his strength: he was strong enough to win and not need to kill his enemies. Kenshin could afford to be merciful because of his awe-inspiring strength.
At that point, the teen knew exactly why Kenshin didn't bother with murder in his later life even though he made a career out of it earlier on. Then again, why did that standard have to apply to Yahiko's situation? Was his "monkey see, monkey do" attitude towards Kenshin's non-killing vow really that strong?
Yahiko certainly didn't have the Battousai's great strength to afford letting someone as dangerous as Amakusa get away. So much for his boast about the permanence of killing. They ended up as nothing more than lip service, when everything was said and done.
The teenaged samurai had absolutely no reason to even keep such a pledge, especially considering how ridiculously strong the Christian rebel was and how determined he was at terrorizing the government regardless of how many lives it cost.
Yahiko had no guilt complex over the death of a loved one that compelled him to not kill. He didn't have his own Tomoe Yukishiro to make him regret killing anybody. This was a situation where he himself believed that pragmatism overruled idealism.
What was the point? Why should he go on living the morals of another person even though they weren't applicable to him? Was he strong enough to live by borrowed ideals? Was he strong enough to go against them?
He didn't know. He had no idea. Nonetheless, he still went after the gun pointed at Amakusa's head regardless. Despite his countless misgivings, his body moved on its own accord, his sakabatou half-unsheathed, his legs in full sprint. He also pulled the same stunt when that mustachioed officer attempted to kill a former member of Shishio's group, Muto Kaname, last year in Echigo.
Yahiko snorted. Like it or not, Kenshin's kindness was probably in his blood by now. After all, he'd rather follow the example set by an ex-vagabond than a genocidal maniac who wasn't aware that he made life worse instead of better for his own people.
Even after Soujiro himself stood up and intercepted Yahiko with that goddamned Shukuchi of his to protect Akahori, the teenaged samurai confronted the Ten Ken head on with the same multi-hit technique he used against Gan a couple of days ago known to him as Men: Midareuchi from the Shibata School Kaoru taught at in Yokohama's Joetsukan Dojo.
As Yahiko expected, none of the six nigh-simultaneous Men, Kote, and Tsuki strikes hit the impossibly fast Soujiro in the slightest. He didn't intend for them to land anyway, judging by how he sidestepped the Ten Ken and lunged at Akahori without any regard to how exposed his back was for a counterattack.
For some reason, instead of decapitating Yahiko from behind, Seta chose to close the distance between them in order to parry the reverse-edged blade so that the two so-called prodigies were again face-to-face.
"Yahiko-san? You're alive? How long have you been in this room? I had a feeling you'd survive against Amakusa's onslaught! Congratulations!"
"Out of my way, Psycho-Kid! The Oyakata...!" None of Yahiko's worries and musings mattered anyway, because by the next instant, after Akahori pulled the trigger of his revolver, a svelte shadowy figure emerged from the ceiling and sliced the gun into quarters and eighths in a flash.
Soujiro turned, ripped through the debris-filled ground with horse-hoof poundings, pushed his employer out of the away of a slice that could've been fatal, and swung his blade at the newest arrival. They clashed weapons, and to the Ten Ken's mild surprise, his body got pushed back by the strength of the simple block.
The stranger had also been repelled by the bladed exchange, his outfit fluttering from the force of the blow, his feet skidding into the devastated ground and creating a trench of sorts that went ankle-deep. "That's a pretty powerful swing. And here I thought all you knew was battoujutsu and running fast."
Even before anyone's eyes could finish their involuntary blink, the silhouette vanished. A few moments later, the lithe and willowy person reappeared at the other side of the room, carrying Amakusa's lanky body and placing it at a corner right beside what used to be a coffee table and a Victorian gas lamp. For several moments, the figure merely stood there while the rest of the people inside the leveled guestroom gawked at him.
"Leave everything to me, Shogo-sama. I'll take care of the rest."
Akahori demanded, "Who are you? Are you part of Amakusa's cult? Show yourself!" even as he threw away the pistol grip of his sliced-up Smith and Wesson firearm and grinded his teeth together to keep at bay the pinching sensation emanating from the self-inflicted stab wound on his thigh.
Outside, the clouds parted and the third quarter moon filled the otherwise shadowy room with lunar luminescence. The short, girlish, and flaming-haired man entered the dust-filled spotlight, his lazy-eyed stare eliciting gasps from most everyone present, especially when the cross-shaped scar below his left eye, his old-style outfit, and his topknot hairstyle that waved back and forth from behind him like a horse's tail became visible under the moonlight. His daisho blades were already drawn, glinting with speckles of blood, skin, and bone.
Akahori and Yahiko respectively chorused, "Another Battousai?" and, "K-Kenshin?" after taking a real good look at the convincing Battousai impersonator.
'Aw, come on! I've already met Kenji and Chizuru! Aren't there enough identical strangers in the world? Who's next? A clone of Psycho-Kid? A deadpanning twin of Aoshi? Rooster Head's long-lost, spear-wielding brother-from-another-mother?' the Tokyo Samurai Descendant inwardly protested.
"H-Himura-san?" Soujiro muttered to himself although he'd already seen the intruder earlier on, specifically when he was leading Rin away from the Shinshushin Manor.
'That's right. This was the same Battousai imposter who ambushed me and took Rin-san back into the mansion. But why would he do that? He didn't even harm a hair on her body, come to think of it.'
"..." Rin elaborated, her nose twitching at the smell of fresh blood and other bodily fluids that emanated from the other member of the Battousai Group who also abducted her. 'I wonder which Battousai he is.'
To the surprise of everyone present, it was Yahiko who first trudged forward and confronted the Kenshin look-alike after the initial wave of silence passed. "Who the hell are you? Are you part of the Battousai Group? Have you come to take back the body of your cuckoo cult leader?"
To Yahiko's chagrin, Kenshin's long-lost, grownup twin brother gently pushed him aside and pointed his short sword at the smiling (more like beaming) face of Soujiro Seta.
'Is it me, or does Psycho-Kid look a lot more psychotic than usual?' To the redhead, the Tokyoite screamed, "HEY! I'm talking to you, asshole! Pay attention!"
"Ten Ken. We've already met earlier, but I wasn't able to introduce myself back then." The comely, lion-haired underling of Shogo Amakusa bowed low. "I'm the Battousai of Speed. I came here to murder the Akahori family. Feel free to stop me if you can."
'He even has the same effeminate voice as Kenshin! Not falsetto, but effeminate!' The hairs at the back of Yahiko's neck stood on end upon hearing the assassin's voice and identity. Without warning, a flash of comprehension and insight hit him right in the temple like a bullet to the brain.
'This... This is the guy Keisuke was referring to in his dying message to me! Not Psycho-Kid, not Amakusa, but this man! The Battousai of Speed is the true Fake Battousai, if that makes any sense!'
To Soujiro, Yahiko informed, "Psycho-Kid! This is the guy who massacred the Fake Battousai Group! He's the man who forced you to mercy-kill Keisuke!" The teenager didn't have time to gaze at Soujiro's reaction. A more important realization occurred to him upon remembering the supposed Battousai of Speed's declaration that he was about to massacre the Akahori Clan... all two of them... right then and there.
By instinct, Yahiko went over and protected the Akahori nearest him, Rin, by ushering her to the side of the room where Amakusa's body lay while Soujiro himself proceeded to shield his employer, Tetsuo, by sheathing his sword and adopting a half-squatting battoujutsu posture: an instinctive divide and conquer tactic, to be sure.
'Oh great, now I'm protecting the daughter of the guy who almost killed that mass murderer I also protected! Whose side am I on?' Yahiko asked himself, only for his consciousness to answer, 'Kenshin would've done the same thing.' And that was that.
The Battousai of Speed raised his wakizashi-wielding left hand over his head and kept his uchigatana-wielding right hand parallel to the short sword at stomach level as his ready stance. He then feinted a charge towards Yahiko before moving to his real target, the Juppon Gatana's Heaven Sword.
In the end, the redhead didn't need to feint or move after all, because the Ten Ken met him halfway and unsheathed a bone-cleaving slash towards the torso.
The second Battousai from the Battousai Group to come out of the woodwork crossed his swords and absorbed the full brunt of the battoujutsu strike with a full-body block, the strength of the blow pushing him back and lifting his feet for a moment or two.
That was the power of someone who could murder his adopted family with just a short sword in his arsenal.
'Kenshin's double is using a two-sword style. Is he going to fight like Aoshi or Takae and utilize that speed he's practically bragging about, or is he going to fight more like he's using Miyamoto Musashi's Hyoho Ni-Ten Ichi Ryu?' was what Yahiko mused after the Heaven Sword and the Battousai of Speed went into an impasse for about a full second.
'No, wait. The posture is all wrong for Aoshi's technique, Takae's technique, or even Musashi's technique. It's a two-sword stance, but a two-sword stance I've never seen before.'
The Ten Ken eased off and sidestepped the Kenshin look-alike's block and made the latter stumble over himself for about one-fourth of a second. 'So this is the man who murdered the entire Fake Battousai Group and inadvertently made Kyoko-san cry.'
The window of opportunity that opened was more than enough time for Soujiro to take another step forward and seemingly teleport behind the bogus Battousai, which allowed him to cut the imposter down the same way he did the real Battousai way back when.
'I get to have a rematch with Himura-san, huh?' Soujiro's smile grew wider and wider, almost to the point of splitting his face in half from the jaw onwards. "I accept your challenge."
In Seta's mind's eye, it wasn't hard for him to imagine himself and Kenshin battling it out for a rubber match after more than half a decade since they last clashed swords. He also knew he'd grown stronger than before because he managed to beat even the infamous Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki recently.
"S-Shogo-sama...!" the Battousai of Speed stuttered as he tumbled forward, his blurry eyes focused on the supine form of his unmoving, beloved leader, his wakizashi shuddering after keeping Soujiro's blade from slicing apart his spine.
He ended up on all fours, his back blazing with stinging heat, his eyes welling up with wet saltiness, his lungs and heart pounding against his rib cage as though they wanted to escape his chest. 'Is this it? The fight barely even started, and I'm already...!'
"Get up, Battousai-san. We're not yet done," Soujiro beckoned while swinging his blade around to remove the flecks of blood on it. 'The Kikuichi Monji wasn't able to slash him deep enough even though I was able to swing my blade as close to him as possible. It's like my fight with Himura-san all over again.'
The Kenshin imposter tried to remember the last time he ended up on the floor recently. His mind came up blank. Neither the faux Battousai Group nor the Togakudan put up much of a fight against him.
He concentrated, recalling snippets of his muscular master pounding him with sheathed swords, Amakusa stopping mere inches away from slicing up his flesh, and the back of a pony-tailed someone producing precise cuts and nicks all over his body with barely discernible iaijutsu slashes.
"What's the matter, Battousai-dono? Compared to Amakusa, you're barely even a threat against the Ten Ken!" said Akahori. "You should've run away with the body of your fearless leader while you still had a chance."
The Battousai of Speed's left cheek flared as he dug deeper into his psyche, but as though he'd touched a hot pan or stared at the sun directly for too long, his brain flinched and reeled from the memory of how he'd gotten his own cross-shaped scar. He shook his head to clear it.
'I mustn't underestimate the Ten Ken. This confrontation is something I've been training for my entire life! He's not as strong as Doraku-sensei, nor as skilled as Minakata-san, nor as well-versed in different techniques as Shogo-sama! I will not let Shogo-sama's sacrifices today be in vain. I've fought much better swordsmen than him!'
The Fake Battousai rose up and ignored the blinding fire that reached his back muscles and backbone. "You're not better than me, Seta Soujiro! I'll expose the weaknesses of your techniques and show everyone here how one-dimensional you really are!"
'Is this guy for real or is he in denial?' Yahiko stopped himself from laughing out loud. 'Psycho-Kid was able to do what entire police squadrons or people who are actually familiar with Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu couldn't do: bring Amakusa down. Granted, this Fake Battousai massacred a whole gang on his own, but those were mere thugs. The real Kenshin Junior here is Psycho-Kid.'
A minute later, Yahiko conked himself on the head for thinking such strange thoughts, which made Rin give him a quizzical look. 'Since when did I become Psycho-Kid's fanboy? Kenshin Junior? Seriously? Kenshin beat that kid up with a blunt sword that can cut things as well as a chair leg. All Psycho-Kid has is speed and battoujutsu anyway!'
The boy furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to the side. 'Speed and battoujutsu... Is that what the faker means by 'one-dimensional'?'
While Yahiko hemmed and hawed over how genuine the Battousai of Speed's threats were or how good the Heaven Sword's skills were, the redheaded pretender shifted his sword over his head and his wakizazhi over his waist, threw his short sword up in the air, screamed, "Flying Tail Stinger!" and charged at the stationary Soujiro.
With chortling laughter, Akahori's head bodyguard considered the Battousai of Speed's words of warning. 'One-dimensional, huh?' He then came to the same conclusion as Yahiko did, which enabled him to answer back his opponent's charge and demeaning accusation loud and clear: 'The Shukuchi and battoujutsu aren't the only things I'm good at.'
The Battousai of Speed choked on his earlier insult after he was forced to block over nine simultaneous strikes to the head, shoulders, ribs, thighs, crotch, and chest, realizing right then and there that Shishio's prodigy was capable of pulling off the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu's second strongest attack thanks to his godly Shukuchi.
'I can't... I can't read his sakki or kenki at all. Why doesn't he have any blood thirst in him whenever he attacks? He's not normal! He's like Master Doraku...!'
Again, as Yahiko witnessed the second exchange between the terrorist and the guardian, his mind wandered back to the memory of Minoe producing nine simultaneous blocks to nullify Amakusa's own Nine-Headed Dragon Flash a few hours or so ago.
However, the Battousai doppelganger wasn't nearly as good at defense as the late Togakudan spy, judging by the sudden appearance of a fine red mist that sprayed all over him and the unblocked sword thrust to his body.
'It's either Psycho-Kid is too good, or Mister Battousai here isn't as good as everyone expected him to be. Even a half-dead Amakusa did better against the Ten Ken than him.' The Tokyo teenager scratched his chin. 'When I first fought Psycho-Kid, did I look as pathetic as he does now?'
For the second time, the Fake Battousai dropped down to the floor, skidding on the seat of his pants because his knockdown was somewhat an intentional one that he allowed to happen in order to avoid getting run through, his outfit filled with shallow cuts and bloodstains while his spurting midsection dyed his undershirt a bright shade of red.
The phony Battousai bit his lip and clutched his scabbard-less katana's handle hard while his vision blurred several times thanks to unbidden tears and his worsening wooziness. 'How dare he steal one of Shogo-sama's moves! I'll make him suffer for his arrogance,' he raged inwardly while covering his somewhat exposed, bandage-covered chest with his right hand.
Meanwhile, on Soujiro's part, he didn't completely commit to his plunging sword stab because he had to retreat and avoid the dropping wakizashi that would've landed on top of his head, shoulder, bicep, or forearm had he continued with his attack. Ergo, the short sword landed in between the winded and wheezing Battousai of Speed's legs with a dull thunk on one of the remaining floorboards while the Ten Ken kept his distance.
"It's funny how you're claiming to be a Battousai of something when you don't even know how to use battoujutsu. Maybe the pressure of bearing that infamous name is too much for you to handle," Akahori heckled while the untouched Seta maintained a flat stare and a thin line for a mouth that neither formed a smile or a frown. "Come on. You can't name yourself 'Battousai' without at least living up to his name in some way, shape, or form. Where are your sword-drawing techniques?"
To be Continued...
Next:Strengths and weaknesses.
Again, as per usual, Amakusa has from time to time quoted the bible as demonstrated by the biblical insults he hurled at Akahori as well as the famous "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" quote from Jesus Christ himself. Furthermore, the "Substituting leisure for labor" quote was from "The Thirty-Six Stratagems" of Zhuge Liang. All rights reserved.
Taas noo kahit kanino,
Abdiel