The Hunter

Chapter Thirteen

In their absence the inn in the village had burned to the ground, nearly taking the surrounding shops with it. The air smelled pleasantly of wood smoke as they approached and small, stubborn flames could be seen licking at the building's skeletal remains. Kohaku dismounted and poked at the blackened earth with his boots. Rin watched as he wandered through the empty space lightly kicking charred timbers and piles of ash aside. What was he searching for?

When he eventually returned he held his blackened short sword in-hand. She eyed the badly damaged blade and wondered what he planned to do with it. Her brows lifted in surprise when he returned the blade to its sheath and then tucked it into his belt. Had they really travelled all that way for a sword? Kohaku discarded his knife so easily – what made that weapon different? The question sat on the tip of her tongue, but one glance at the hard set of his mouth kept her silent.

"Where to now?" she asked instead once he'd returned to the saddle.

"To another inn," he answered flatly. Kohaku manoeuvred their horses down the main street, ignoring the stunned looks of the villagers as they passed. "There is another town not far from here."

His words were undercut by a hard edge and she realized that the carefree boy she'd met in Kyoto was gone. It was as though that person had been sucked straight from his bones, leaving nothing behind. Where she'd once been irritated by his constant chatter, she now found herself wishing he'd say something – anything! – to break the awful silence.

But Kohaku said nothing, and with little else to occupy her thoughts her mind turned to worrying over the reasons for his sudden change. Was he angry with her? Ashamed that she'd rescued him perhaps? There was no shortage of causes that she could imagine, and each seemed worst than the last. By the time they arrived at the next inn, her bottom lip had begun to bleed from her constant, nervous nibbling.

Kohaku avoided meeting her gaze as he helped her down from the horse. She moved slowly as she retrieved their bags from the saddles hoping he'd say something, even if it was only to tell her to hurry up. Instead he slipped the few bags she'd set on the ground over his shoulder and then ventured inside to arrange a room. Thinking it may be best to give him space, Rin slowly unloaded the rest of their bags and then tied the horses to a nearby tree. Only once everything else was done did she follow him inside.

The inn was rather large and boasted a small pond filled with koi in the reception area. She admired the brightly-hued school of fish with a smile until the innkeeper greeted her from the doorway. He was a kind-looking older man with deep wrinkles and a smattering of age spots across his face. He made pleasant small talk about the fine weather as he guided her to her room. He offered to take care of the horses while they rested and then asked if she'd like a breakfast tray. With the events of the morning she hadn't stopped to think about being hungry, but at the mention of food her stomach jumped to life with an audible growl. She quietly asked for two trays, one for Kohaku and the other for herself.

When the innkeeper departed, she exhaled a heavy sigh and bid good riddance to the longest night she could remember. Rin shook her body as if shaking off a bad dream and then slowly opened the shoiji door of their room. Beyond the entry way, Kohaku was sprawled out face down atop the tatami. He hadn't even been able to remove both of his boots before exhaustion claimed him.

With a sympathetic look, Rin gingerly removed his other boot and then set the pair next to her geta by the door. She returned to where he was sleeping and after a moment of consideration removed his katana and short sword as well. She laid them within easy reach in case he should need them and then slipped a small, rice-filled pillow beneath his head.

Despite her poking and prodding his soft snores continued unabated. He looked far less imposing with his features relaxed in sleep. She'd been wary of him before, but now she could find no trace of the menacing look he'd directed at their captors, or the hard edge she'd seen at his mouth. Her fingers reached out, tempted to brush a lock of hair from his forehead, but pulled back when a knock sounded at the door.

On the other side was a plump older woman bearing two trays of food. Rin thanked her graciously and set the trays atop the room's low table. One glance at Kohaku was enough to tell her that not even the promise of a hot meal would be enough to rouse him. Instead, she ate alone and then retrieved a futon and pillow from the closet.

As she rolled it out next to Kohaku, her mind brought her back to the first night they'd met. At the brothel in Kyoto she'd had a futon in her room, much like this one. Kohaku was the first and only man to have entered her room and not used it. It was then that she decided to trust him and his incredible plan to buy her freedom. Of course, she knew his true motive now but the memory remained untainted. He hadn't taken advantage of her that night, or any night since. Instead he'd cared for her, fought for her, and risked his life to protect her even when she was being temperamental, argumentative, and attempting to escape. The thought brought an amused smile to her lips. It was any wonder why he'd put up with her this long.

Kohaku was a rare sort of man, the sort of man she could love, but he would never be hers. In a few days, maybe even a week, they would arrive in Edo and then he would disappear from her life just as abruptly as he'd entered it. Her breakfast quickly turned to stone in the pit of her stomach as she blinked back tears. She would miss him.

A shaky exhale escaped her lips and with it went every last bit of her strength. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted off with the reassuring sound of Kohaku's soft snores in her ear. It never once crossed her mind to leave.

xXx

He wasn't certain how many hours he'd slept, but knew it hadn't been nearly enough. Fatigue made his limbs heavy and his muscles ache. He eyed the cold breakfast tray a short distance away and determined that the effort needed to retrieve it was too much. Instead he propped his head on his hand and watched the girl next to him sleep.

He'd worried that she might be tormented by nightmares after the attack… He'd dreamt of hearing her scream, of wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, of kissing her delicate face until she was no longer afraid. Looking at her now, she appeared completely at peace. He was glad for it, but envied her all the same.

A sad smile touched his lips as his fingers brushed a loose bit of hair off her cheek. It was then that he saw the finger-shaped bruises covering her neck. The simmering rage inside of him boiled up anew at the thought of that scar-faced bastard putting his hands on her. He wanted nothing more than to run him through and watch him die. The image was so vivid he could practically feel the handle of his sword gripped tight in his hand.

The problem was that Rin had beaten him to it. She'd thrust her knife deep into the bastard's side just as he'd taught her to do. In the moment when she'd needed him most he'd failed to protect her and she'd been forced to take a life. A mere apology would never be enough.

I am so sorry I failed you, he thought as his thumb ghosted across her cheek.

A faint groan slipped from between her lips and he let his hand fall away. When her eyes opened, those chestnut-hued orbs looked straight at him without any trace of fear.

"You're awake," she said with a small smile pulling at her lips. "Do you feel better?"

"I feel good," he lied, suppressing a wince as he sat up.

She got up more slowly, taking time to stretch her tired muscles. Her eyes looked him over carefully and she lifted a brow in challenge.

"Liar," she teased.

"Did you sleep enough?" he deflected as he massaged a particularly painful knot out of his thigh.

She shrugged lightly and then her expression turned serious. Her hand retrieved his knife from the inner folds of her obi and she laid it on the floor between them.

"Are you very angry that I took it?"

He picked up the knife and turned it slowly in his hands. The way she looked at him, suddenly so tense and unsure, it was as though she expected him to lash out. The notion that she thought him capable of harming her cut deep. Did she not know him at all? Or at least well enough to realize that the last thing he wished to do was hurt her?

No, he realized. After his demonstration that morning what cause did she have to see him as any different? He'd slaughtered an entire group of bandits in their sleep. They might have been thieves and criminals, but he was a murderer with an eager sword hand. He'd proven that to her enough times for it to have made an impression.

"No," he answered directly and set the knife back down. "I am angry with myself. I should have done a better job of protecting you."

She gave him a sympathetic look but remained silent. Any pretty words she might have contrived to soothe him would have been false and they both knew it.

"What happened while I was in the cell?"

His voice hardened once more as his frustration with his own weakness came bubbling to the surface. Rin exhaled and smoothed her hands across the front of her yukata.

It was time for her to come clean, about everything – from stealing his knife, to hiding Miho's drug-laced tea, to her plans to use it on him. They were beyond lies and secrets now and she had grown weary of the burden they placed upon her. Bracing for whatever his reaction might be, Rin went back to the beginning and told Kohaku about how she'd hidden the knife for her own protection.

Next was Miho, the old woman from several villages past. She left out the old crone's comments about marriage but was honest with the rest, including the purpose of the tea. Kohaku's brows lifted in mild surprise.

"Why didn't you use it?" he wondered, genuinely curious. The last time she'd tried to escape would have been a perfect opportunity. Had she given him the tea then, it would have been hours before he realized she was gone.

"If I'd used it then, I would be dead," she pointed out archly. "I suppose we should both be thankful that I didn't."

A reluctant smile turned the corners of Kohaku's mouth until she guided her story to what happened in the bandits' hideout. He looked serious then, and his features only darkened further when she told him about how she'd killed the leader.

"I should have killed them the first time," he said gravely. "If I had-"

"If you had, you might have been killed."

He opened his mouth to object, but she shook her head. "The first time you made the choice to protect me. What happened last night wasn't your fault."

He went quiet, unwilling to agree with her version of events. He couldn't fathom that she was willing to forgive him, much less that she was trying to convince him to forgive himself.

"Was today the first time you've…"

"Taken a life?" she finished for him. He nodded and she glanced at the knife in front of her. Its blade was deceptively clean. If offered no evidence of what she'd done, but she saw the blood there just as clearly as if it were still dripping.

"I don't feel guilty," she whispered, then reluctantly met his gaze. "Is that bad?"

Kohaku smiled sympathetically and retrieved the knife from the floor.

"You were protecting yourself," he reassured her. "There is nothing to feel guilty for."

He weighed the blade in his hand and then flipped it over so that the handle was facing her.

"Here, take it."

When she made no move to grab for it, he pulled her hand forward and placed the handle into her palm.

"Please, Rin. I'll feel better knowing you have something to protect yourself with."

Her fingers closed around the smooth, worn wood and she slipped it into her obi with a resigned sigh.

"Thank you," Kohaku said seriously. "And for this morning, too. You saved my life today."

"A life for a life," she replied, and he knew exactly what she meant.

He'd saved her from the wolves and she'd saved him from certain death at the hands of the bandits; their scores were even. She no longer owed him and he had no right to ask anything of her.

"What now?"

That question was more difficult to answer. No single part of him wanted to leave, but he knew they couldn't stay. Winter was fast closing in. Before long snow would be on the ground making travel all the more dangerous. Even with the horses shortening their journey, they couldn't afford to lose more than a day or two.

"We'll sell one of the horses."

She looked up at him surprised. Whatever she'd expected him to say, it wasn't that.

"We only need one for the journey," he reasoned, "and we could use the extra money for the road ahead."

Her features sobered instantly. "How far is it to Edo then?"

"A few days, maybe less." He hated the way the words sounded, and even more the effect they had on her. She seemed to deflate all at once and lowered her eyes to where her hands were folded tightly in her lap.

"We can stay here another day if you wish," he offered, hoping to fix what he'd broken.

After a long pause, she met his gaze and asked coolly, "Why would we do that?"

Kohaku opened his mouth to say something more but quickly closed again. He hunched forward with his arms resting atop his thighs and stared at her with a lost look. Perhaps he'd been hoping for a different answer. With a weary shake of his head, he conceded defeat.

"We'll leave in the morning, then."

She said nothing, only nodded. Kohaku got to his feet and began searching through their bags. The victory was hers but it was hollow. The thought of leaving didn't fill her with any joy, but she knew it had to be done. What could be gained from delaying the inevitable? Staying, drawing ever closer to him, they would only make it harder in the end.

Kohaku suddenly knelt at her side and caught her off guard. He held out his hand to her and in his palm was a small box. A single kanji adorned the lid; it had been carved into the wood with neat, straight strokes. 薬Medicine.

"Here," he said and gestured for her to take it. "One of the villagers told me this balm helps wounds to heal more quickly."

She glanced at it and opened her mouth to say that she didn't need it, but he silenced her with a hard look. Without saying a word, he moved her hair aside and placed his hand around her neck, gently laying his fingers overtop each oval-shaped bruise that stained her skin. Now that he'd drawn her attention to them she could feel the ten small spots and their tiny, throbbing ache. The bastard really had been trying to kill her.

Kohaku pulled his hand away and offered the balm to her again. Clearly he wouldn't take "No" for an answer.

"Thank you," she said meekly and accepted it from him. It smelled of hemp oil and faintly of some herb she couldn't remember the name of. As Kohaku watched, she applied it in a thin layer down her neck and hoped for the best. When she was finished, she offered the box back to him.

"Keep it," he instructed with no trace of a smile. His good humour had vanished and she felt its absence immediately. Acting on impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and held tight.

"The bruises will fade," she reassured him. "In a few days' time they will be forgotten along with the man who put them there. What will remain is the memory of how hard you fought for me. I'll never forget it so long as I live. Thank you."

He was slow to accept her words, but in time she felt the gentle pressure of one hand against her back and then the other. Together they encircled her, pulling her tight against him and she breathed a soft sigh of relief. He held her close until the innkeeper's knock sounded at the door and then reluctantly let her go.

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait everyone. This one gave me a bit of trouble. I think I re-wrote it in its entirety four times in total. I'm curious to know what you think of it. I've really enjoyed all of your feedback so far and am very happy to know that so many of you are enjoying this story! This will most likely be my last update till the holidays are over. Too many dinner parties to attend! Happy holidays everyone! :)

Until next time,

Langus