Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction / Samurai X Fan Fiction ❯ A Strong Will ❯ Casualty ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all affiliated characters and settings are the creative property of Watsuki Nobuhiro and all companies affiliated with its license and translation. The setting and characters are used without permission, at no profit to the author of this fanwork.

 

Warnings: This fanfiction's rating has been updated to reflect the violence in this (and later) chapters - it is now rated M. And I mean it.

 

--

 

Chapter 2: Casualty

 

`To my dear family,

 

I am so sorry. I can only hope that you will understand when you read this. Please forgive me for what I have done, and for what I still am about to do.'

 

--

 

The small handgun bucked violently in Tanaka's grasp, and he couldn't help but close his eyes and flinch in reflex as the bullet reported loudly from the barrel. When he opened his eyes, he saw the young red-headed hitokiri jerk with a strangled grunt before he collapsed to the ground, unmoving. For a moment, his pounding heart skipped a beat with the realization that he'd hit his target. That small instant of victorious feeling quickly subsided, ceding to the guilt that clutched at his belly.

 

“I'm sorry,” he breathed in a choked whisper. “It was either your life, or the lives of my men and my family.”

 

Lowering the gun to his side, he approached the hitokiri's body cautiously, ready to move just in case he had to. When he saw a small pool of red gathering beneath the boy's body, he turned his head and called for assistance. The shoji behind him slid open, and two of Tanaka's samurai vassals entered the room and flanked the unconscious assassin, rolling him over to check for vital signs. Tanaka watched idly as he quickly cleaned the pistol and loaded another shot into the barrel.

 

“He's still alive,” one of the vassals said.

 

Tanaka nodded solemnly as he holstered the gun. “As requested. Come, we have a trade to make.”

 

The two samurai hesitated, as if expecting the hitokiri to suddenly awaken and strike them both down. But when Battousai remained still as they prodded his limp body, they hefted the unconscious young man up between them and turned to follow Tanaka as he too turned to leave the room.

 

--

 

`I have disgraced our family name, stained my hands with the blood of those sent to protect me, and I no longer deserve to live as your caretaker. You never were supposed to be involved, but now I must continue down this path - and do much more of what I do not wish to do - in order to protect you. Please understand that I value your lives and well-being more than my own. Though I am placating the Shinsengumi, I fear that you will be targeted by them in case I fail, as they are not forgiving. Neither are the patriots, I'm afraid, and if I succeed, I don't want them to take my treachery out on you.'

 

--

 

When reality returned in a slow trickle, Kenshin couldn't tell if it was the uncomfortable jolting of being roughly suspended between two strong bodies that brought him back, or if the sharp throbbing in his gut was responsible. Either way, it took far too long for him to recall what had happened, and when he finally did, he immediately thrashed against the two who were carrying him roughly along the dark hallway. He wrenched himself from their grasps with the advantage of surprise and whirled to face them, staggering a few steps backward until he regained his balance. His head was spinning, and he couldn't quite catch his breath around the pain from his wound. The scrape of metal against wood brought him back into focus by sheer instinct; both guards were drawing their swords, and he immediately reached down to grasp his own - only to clutch at air.

 

“Shit! Tanaka-sama!” one guard shouted around the young assassin. Before Kenshin could turn to face the threat behind him, he felt a cold barrel pressed up against his back.

 

“Don't move, Himura-san,” Tanaka stated quietly. “I don't want to have to hurt you more than I already have.”

 

“You bastard—” Kenshin growled.

 

“I know what you're thinking, but there's more to this than you realize,” the businessman said, almost sadly. “Please understand that I had no other choice.”

 

“Tanaka-sama…” the second guard hissed in warning. “They're coming.”

 

“Come. It'll be easier for you if you don't resist.”

 

Kenshin bit back a harsh reply as Tanaka's firm grip on his arm turned him to lead him towards the main entrance of the compound. Something in the man's eyes made him hesitate, even around the sheer humiliation of being trapped - and injured - by an inexperienced fighter, much less his own charge. He'd said he hadn't wanted to do this. Forced into it by the Shinsengumi, perhaps; but what the Shinsengumi held over him could be anything… money, hostages, possibly his own life. He wondered briefly if he could possibly keep his promise to Katsura and protect this man, but he didn't have enough time to come up with a coherent plan, and fighting a division of Shinsengumi didn't seem to be an option at the moment. No, he decided. He had to prioritize; Katsura would need to know about this before he too was fooled by Tanaka, which made his escape the main concern.

 

This wasn't going to be easy.

 

They were nearing the entrance, and Kenshin noted with a small measure of anger that he didn't hear any fighting going on outside. Tanaka's men must have been privy to at least that much information. At any rate, he was quickly running short on time. Sword. He needed one first, or at least a weapon of some kind. Briefly, he considered taking Tanaka's pistol from him, but it only carried a single shot, and he needed at least three. Tanaka's swords were just out of his reach from his current position. A brief glance behind him at the glaring guards, and he knew he'd have to take one of their weapons. The one on his left seemed the most nervous; that one would be the first to fall, should he move quickly enough to evade the closer guard's reaction.

 

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment to shove the dull ache in his side to the back of his mind long enough to get out. He would bring his arm up in a circle to break Tanaka's hold on his arm, twist to the left, charge at the guard before he had a chance to react, steal the shorter wakizashi from its sheath, and take both guards down with it. Tanaka would be dealt with last, if he didn't pull off another shot before Kenshin could dodge it.

 

By now, Kenshin could sense the strong ki of a dozen fighters outside the building. Hopefully they wouldn't hear the scuffle and come to investigate before he got away. Snarling, he wrenched his arm from Tanaka's grip and whirled, charging the guard he'd selected as his first target. As he'd hoped, neither guard was prepared for his sudden attack. His target hastily swung down at him with a surprised cry; he easily evaded to the side, placing a hand on the hilt of the wakizashi stuffed into the man's belt, and used his momentum from the spinning dodge to pull the weapon from its sheath. With a quick two-handed grip, he finished his spin and slashed across the man's back, cutting through his spine with a sickening crunch of bone. The man fell before he could pull the short sword free, pulling Kenshin down with him. He relinquished his grip on the weapon with a grimace; the second guard was already on him, and he needed to move quickly.

 

“Shit!” he heard Tanaka shout, and could hear him fumbling with the pistol.

 

No more time left. His bare hands would have to do with this guard. He jumped back to evade a horizontal slash aimed at his middle, and continued to dodge as the man stepped around his comrade's body and continued to attack. Though the man seemed to be a more competent fighter than his comrade, Kenshin still saw an opening and took advantage of it. He ducked under a high swing and moved in close, breaking the man's range and momentarily stunning him with a hard blow to his gut. While the man gasped to catch his breath, Kenshin wasted no time in yanking the man's sword from his grasp and turning it on him, beheading him with a swift stroke. Kenshin winced as the movement sent a twinge of pain through his injury, but he steeled his composure, turned to face his final opponent, and hesitated when he saw the gleaming gun barrel aimed at him again.

 

“Hold it right there, Himura,” Tanaka warned, “or I'll shoot.”

 

“Tanaka, you don't have to do this,” stated Kenshin quietly. “Please don't make me continue this fight.”

 

Tanaka grunted wryly. “For someone with as infamous and bloody a reputation as you have, Battousai, you're awfully naïve. And unlike you, I don't have a choice in this matter. Drop the sword.”

 

Kenshin stiffened, quickly pushing aside the mild offense he felt stinging from Tanaka's underhanded insult. “Perhaps I am naïve,” he said sadly, “but I am an idealist, Tanaka-san. And you do have a choice; you can stop this now, and I won't have to end your life here.”

 

“Himura, don't,” Tanaka said, voice quivering ever so slightly. “I didn't want it to come to this.”

 

“Nor did I. What could the Shinsengumi possibly have of yours that you would go against your own wishes? Is it your business? Your life? … Your family?” Tanaka flinched. Sorrow clenched at Kenshin's chest as he finally understood. “Do you not trust Katsura enough to know that he would do anything to help protect them?”

 

Tanaka looked pained. “I… I'm sorry, but the only person I can trust to protect my family is me. I don't want to do this, but you see that I really have no other choice.”

 

Kenshin sensed that he was making little headway, and with a heavy heart, he forced himself to prepare to dodge Tanaka's bullet. Tanaka's hands shook as he took aim, though his finger tightened on the trigger regardless. A sudden pounding at the main door startled the businessman, forcing his finger down on the trigger. Kenshin dove to the side as the gun reported, a hot trail scraping across his arm causing him to hiss as he narrowly dodged a direct hit. He rolled into a low crouch, gauging his surroundings in a split second just before he lunged at Tanaka, sword already in motion. When his blade met with steel, he blinked in surprise to see that Tanaka had brought up his gun to block as he drew his own katana to attack from a point-blank range. Kenshin pushed against the block and flipped backward to put distance between himself and Tanaka's battoujutsu, felt the hint of displaced air as the swing fell short of his chest. When he felt a sharp stab in his middle, he realized that his wound might be more serious than he originally thought.

 

Apparently, Tanaka wasn't quite as incompetent a swordsman as Kenshin had anticipated. The man was a weapons dealer; perhaps Kenshin had underestimated the fact that he would actually know how to use his own merchandise.

 

This time, Tanaka charged with a yell, and Kenshin - off guard from his wound's sudden protest - went on the defensive, blocking a slash here, a thrust there. He was being pushed back, he soon realized, and would run out of room quickly if he didn't abolish the pained fog in his mind and focus. As he crossed swords with Tanaka once more, he put up his left hand along the flat side of the blade and pushed, causing Tanaka to stumble back a step. Kenshin pushed the tip of his sword into the tatami floorboards, and with a fierce yell, he then stepped forward and dragged the katana with him and, using his body to put more power into the swing, he jerked the sword sharply up, sending a powerful shock-wave that exploded through the floor towards Tanaka.

 

“Do ryu sen!”

 

The businessman grunted as he raised his arms to shield his face from debris; Kenshin used this opening to leap high into the air, allowing gravity to assist in a powerful downward strike aimed for Tanaka's head. Tanaka brought up his sword to block and stepped to the side - but not quickly enough. Kenshin grimaced as he felt metal, then flesh and bone give way under the ryu tsui sen, a warm spray of blood catching his chin as he hit the ground. Tanaka shuddered, a look of shock crossing his features as he stared at the broken end of his blade before he crumbled to the ground, left shoulder cleaved open.

 

Kenshin slowly rose, breathing heavily as he used his katana to steady his shaking legs as he stood over Tanaka. The man lying before him sported that familiar wound, and he was suddenly replaced with a woman clad in white.

 

“I'm so sorry, beloved…”

 

“Heh…” Tanaka snorted, bringing Kenshin back to reality before the sensual aroma of white plums could reach him from the burdening recollection. “L-Looks like… I couldn't do… anything for them, anyway.”

 

Kenshin felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, guilt eating away at him as he watched this man die.

 

“Don't look… at me like that,” Tanaka admonished quietly. “It's my own… fault. B-But if you could do me… one last favor, I'd be… grateful.”

 

Kenshin nodded solemnly as he knelt down. Tanaka struggled to reach inside his gi, where he retrieved a crumpled, blood-spotted paper with shaking hands and pressed it firmly into Kenshin's palm. “T-Take this to… Katsura. Tell… tell him to leave… quickly, and that… you were only… supposed to be a d-distraction.”

 

“What?” Kenshin's eyes widened in surprise at the statement. When Tanaka's eyes began to close, he shook the man until his pain-clouded eyes peered back. “Tanaka! What do you mean by that?”

 

“They… they wanted him to think… that they're only… attacking here. They just needed… you out of Kyoto… and dead, t-to break… him…” The businessman grimaced, gasping for air that wouldn't fill his torn lungs. “You… you have to tell him that… I'm sorry.” He smiled then, bloody lips pressed into a thin line as he sighed his last breath away.

 

“Tanaka!” Kenshin growled. “Damn it!”

 

Shoving the letter into his gi, he pushed himself to his feet, swaying only slightly as he took back the stolen sword and snatched its sheath from the dead body it once belonged to. First he checked his surroundings. The strong ki from outside the gate hadn't yet moved; he might still have a little time before they realized that he wasn't going to come out the front quietly. Moving as quickly as he dared, he stepped lightly across the wooden floorboards, keeping to the shadows as he approached the back of the building - which led to the back gate of the complex. It seemed to have the least amount of people mulling around. With the back door in sight, he realized with a sinking feeling that he wouldn't get out of the gate unnoticed, as he'd hoped. The Shinsengumi were no fools; they'd sent a few men around to the back as well, unless the auras he sensed belonged to Tanaka's men.

 

With a light hiss, Kenshin pressed a hand to the small hole in the flesh of his abdomen, checking to make sure it could withstand heavy exertion. His wound seemed to have stopped bleeding, though it was horribly tender to the touch, and throbbed every time he tried to twist around. The small groove on his arm was of no concern; it was merely a superficial wound that would heal quickly as long as it didn't get infected. It didn't really matter, though, since he would have to fight even if he wasn't ready. He had to get to Katsura.

 

Two men were patrolling between the back door and gate, both with strong ki; Kenshin was able to discern only that much when he reached the back door of the building. If he moved quickly enough, he would easily have the element of surprise on his side; however, he wasn't sure how much his wound would slow him down, and if he could clamp down on his own ki during his approach. After a moment of shifting about to test his limits, he decided he didn't have a choice, though he would be able to take down one guard uninhibited.

 

Crouching by the doorframe, Kenshin peered into the night and managed to locate his obstacles rather easily in the dark. He selected the closest one, set his target, and with a deep breath he used his crouch as a spring to propel him towards that guard. The man hardly turned before Kenshin was upon him, sword flashing briefly as it struck down through the man's unprotected skull and cleaving it in two in a spray of crimson. The second guard was alerted by the movement, and as Kenshin jerked his sword free from the first guard to attack, only to feel his injury twinge with the effort. The hesitation was only slight, but just enough for the guard to come after him first. He'd calculated the risk at the start, so by the time the guard launched his attack, Kenshin was already in motion. With a swift, arcing stroke, the tip of the second guard's sword dangerously whirled through the air to plunge into the thick wooden panel of the gate. Less than one second later, the guard let out a choked cry as a crimson spurt erupted from his shoulder. He too fell, unmoving.

 

Standing shakily, Kenshin steadied himself before flicking the wrist that clutched the sword hilt to free the blade of his enemies' blood. He nearly lost his grip on the katana as his own blood pooled at his palm and made the pommel slick. Blinking rapidly to clear the dazed fog from his brain, he forced himself to extend his ki. In his current condition, he wouldn't be able to take many more of these guards head-on, so he would need the foresight.

 

However, all the foresight gave him was a split second to half-dodge an incoming bullet. The explosion from the rifle hadn't even registered in his mind until after he sensed the projectile coming his way, and that worried him… almost as much as the newfound pain in his calf where the bullet managed to nick him. The pain awoke the adrenalin in his blood, and the world snapped back into focus.

 

Once Kenshin had estimated the most probable trajectory for the bullet, he took cover as quickly as he possibly could behind one of the open gate doors. As long as the soldier with the gun had his sights on him, and until he could get a visual on the sniper, he had to stay low. A thicket surrounded the Tanaka estate outside its gates; Kenshin's enemy had to be in there somewhere. The guy had to be reloading, too; Kenshin thought he heard metal sliding against metal, and then a soft snap followed by a distinct click as the rifle was cocked for firing. The gunman was close, and he only had a single-shot weapon. If he could lure the shot, he might have time to attack while the gunman reloaded his weapon. He spared a glance at the corpse of the nearest guard he had dispatched. Hopefully the gunman was jumpy… but if not, Kenshin knew he was in big trouble.

 

I really hate guns.

 

Keeping the gate between himself and the gunman, Kenshin sheathed his own sword and crept over to the fallen guard and worked the scabbard from the man's obi. Clutching it close to him, he edged back to the gate, and taking a deep breath, he tensed in preparation for attack. He waved the sheath around in the air past the opening in the gate. A loud report sounded as the gunman took the bait - much to Kenshin's relief - and then muttered curses floated through the air as the man realized what had just happened. The swearing led Kenshin straight to his position, and Kenshin leapt to action. Though he was quick in his approach, the man had already dropped his rifle to the ground and tried to bring up a block with his sword while Kenshin attacked. Ducking under a sloppy one-handed swing aimed at his neck, he thrust his sword into the gunman's chest, closing his eyes to avoid the inevitable spray of blood. But before the man fell - and much to Kenshin's horrified surprise - he cried out as the dying gunman forced a tanto between the ribs in his left side, near his back. A brief grin of satisfaction passed across the soldier's face before it relaxed in death.

 

Kenshin grimaced as he tugged his katana free from the body. White-hot pain shot down his spine from the movement, his other wounds dully protesting in the background. It was then that the feeling of adrenalin seeped its way from his blood, leaving him feeling lightheaded and weak at the knees. Staggering a few steps, he groped out blindly for support and ended up painfully smacking his hand against a tree. With a colorful curse, Kenshin shook his hand and glared at the tree briefly before leaning his head against it. His knees buckled under him shortly after, bearing him to the ground facing the tree. Shaking hands felt for the hilt of the tanto, fumbling as his own blood foiled his attempts at a grip. The pain was nearly unbearable, but somehow he managed to wrench the small blade free from his ribs. A warm trickle of liquid seeped from the wound, staining his already-soiled gi and hakama further. When his vision wavered, he leaned his head against the trunk of the tree and swore under his panting breath.

 

Can this damn night get worse? he wondered briefly. As if in response to his question, he faintly picked up on another presence making its way towards him. Damn it all.

 

“Who is there?” the man called warily, from a distance. So he'd sensed Kenshin as well; it didn't bode well for the wounded hitokiri.

 

Kenshin mustered as much strength as he could summon, pulling himself to his feet and allowing the sharp pains to kick his adrenalin back into action. Focusing, he was able to see the man several paces down the path, sword drawn and ready for battle. Twisting as far as he dared to test his limits, he was glad to see that he still had enough range of motion to carry out a few more attacks - if he was accurate. However, he realized that if he ran across any other soldiers after this man, he would be dead.

 

No, I won't allow that to happen!

 

Taking a shaky - but determined - step forward, Kenshin icily stated, “You're in my path.”

 

The man jumped ever so slightly, but when he recovered from his initial surprise, he scrutinized the young redhead with a scowl. “You're wounded.”

 

“It is no matter. Allow me to pass peacefully, and you will hang on to your life for one more night.”

 

“Hah,” the man scoffed. “I think not, boy.” Kenshin raised an eyebrow. “You'll have to come with me; I can see the bodies of my comrades at your feet.”

 

“You will move or you will die - this is your last warning.”

 

“Fine, then. Have it your way; it's your own funeral. I am Morimoto Kiyoshi of the Sakamori school. Name yourself!”

 

Kenshin allowed himself a small smirk. Despite Kiyoshi's smooth, confident voice, the redhead could feel the anxiety pouring off him in waves. This man had smelled some of the danger of Battousai, and was uneasy.

 

“A hitokiri needs no introduction.” Kenshin allowed that to sink in for a moment before he added a little more softly, “You may leave now if you wish to live.”

 

Anxiety was rapidly replaced with fear. So Kiyoshi did realize who stood before him, Kenshin mused. Sometimes the reputation wasn't such a bad thing.

 

“Y-You're the Battousai!” Kiyoshi accused, pointing as if it would clarify his statement.

 

Kenshin advanced a step, and the man stumbled back several. “My offer remains.”

 

Kiyoshi's lip curled into a harsh snarl as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his raised katana. “You bastard. You killed Tanaka-sama, didn't you? I will rid this world of you, you filthy, bloody demon!”

 

With a strangled cry, Kiyoshi launched himself at the Battousai, moonlight glinting off his waving sword. Relieved, Kenshin noted that the man hardly used proper basic technique with the sword, and with a simple dodge and counter, a red stripe formed across Kiyoshi's midsection. Kenshin tried to ignore the gurgling death cries of the soldier as he walked away.

 

The countering move took more out of Kenshin than he would have liked to admit. Keeping his composure long enough to get away from the dead bodies near the gate was nigh impossible; however, he managed to avoid collapsing until he made it further down the path toward Nara. His body was so tired and pained that the road seemed to turn upside down on him, even while lying still. Nauseated, he swallowed and tried not to revisit his hours-old dinner. Part of him wanted to rest, to roll off further to the side of the road and conceal himself long enough to gather the strength needed to make it back to the city. The idea sounded so nice, in fact, that he found that he was already off to the side of the path, face-first in the underbrush, without being able to recall how he made it there, though his throbbing injuries seemed to have an idea.

 

He cursed himself for losing focus, turning to the only way he knew how to regain it in his condition. He argued with himself.

 

It shouldn't have happened like this. I… I'm better than that. I could have stopped Tanaka. I… could - should have avoided the needless bloodshed.

 

But you lost focus, and now it's happened. So now what are you going to do?

 

Stay here. Wait… until the pain passes enough for me to focus again. Need to focus… A little pain won't kill me…

 

Damn, but it hurts.

 

Suddenly, he sensed a handful of strong, intensely hostile presences down the path, not far from the back gate. Shinsengumi, his instinct said. Shit, echoed his mind. First and foremost, he needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and those crazed samurai. He placed a shaking hand on the ground beside his head, trying to lift himself up to lean against the tree trunk. He failed. The ground beneath his fingers was damp and smelled of earth and salty copper. His blood.

 

Maybe it isn't such a bad idea to wait for them…

 

“They… they wanted him to think… that they're only… attacking here. They just needed… you out of Kyoto…”

 

“Shit,” Kenshin muttered aloud, finally remembering why he had no choice but to get back to Katsura in time to either warn or protect him. He was a half-day's walk from Nara; in his current condition, he might be able to make it in a day, he decided with a grim frown. Definitely not optimal, but it was all he could do… even if it wasn't enough.

 

Using the sheath of the katana to push himself to his feet, and then to steady himself, Kenshin took several staggering steps forward, focusing only on the pain from his wounds, trying to ignore the fact that not all of them had closed.

 

Katsura - I will protect you, even if it means the death of me!

 

--

 

Hours later, Kenshin grimaced as the sun's blinding rays bore down from above as he left the thicket, feebly raising a bloodied hand to block the rays from his sensitive vision. He was further along than he'd initially expected himself to be, now that it was long past mid-day; perhaps he would make it to Nara by dusk. However, despite the fact that the wounds had receded to dull throbs rather than sharp pains, he started to feel concerned. His vision would swim out of focus far too often - and for too long, and he'd been feeling nauseated for quite some time now. Something that went beyond physical wounds was weighing his body down, and he had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to make it far enough to find out what it was.

 

The only thing that kept him moving was his strong will to fulfill his duty, to warn Katsura of the coming danger and the argument that had continued to rage within to fuel what small amount of adrenaline still coursed through his veins. It was his only hold on consciousness. Eying the sun worriedly, he reminded himself that he couldn't pass out yet. But the gods hadn't had enough of tormenting him; he stubbed his toe on a rock, causing him to stumble forward a few steps. The jolt sent waves of sharp pain through his entire body, and he nearly lost consciousness. He swore at the rock through gritted teeth.

 

This is bad, really bad. If I can't even handle a little bump like that, I won't be able to help defend Katsura if I'm running late.

 

Nara isn't far… just a little further…

 

As he rounded a bend on the small trail, he saw the outskirts of the city not far down the path. He breathed an agonizing sigh of relief and quickened his pace, hoping to get there quickly to warn Katsura before his body gave out. He clamped down on a knot of adrenaline in his gut, forcing one foot in front of the other, coaxing himself along as much as he possibly could.

 

Just a little further…

 

The Choshu hideout in Nara was a tiny inn called Kuroyama, with a crabby old woman - who called herself Sato-baa - as its proprietor. It wasn't too deep within the city itself, which was just as well for Kenshin as he staggered along the widening dirt road, ignoring the stares from anyone who happened to pass by him in the fading daylight. He hated being out in the open, but at this point he was too exhausted to do anything about it.

 

I must look like I've been dragged through Hell itself, though, he mused.

 

When he finally spotted Kuroyama-Ya, he breathed a sigh of relief; it looked like it hadn't been attacked. He did manage to wearily look about to make sure nobody watched him as he staggered around to the back of the building. The knot of adrenalin he'd been feeding off in his gut had diminished and would fade soon, but he clung on to it desperately.

 

N-Not yet. I just have to speak to Katsura first.

 

Kenshin knocked weakly on the back door, only managing two louder taps before it slid open to reveal the wizened, scowling face of Sato-baa. Her eyes widened when they met with his, and before he could say anything her frown faded to worried shock as she reached out to steady him.

 

“Himura-san!” she exclaimed. “Oh gods, what on earth happened to you?” Before he could even hope to reply, she'd turned her head and yelled over her shoulder for help.

 

“K-Katsura…” Kenshin managed to say. “Please - I… I need to speak with Katsura.”

 

Sato-baa looked even more worried at the request, but nodded slowly. When the stable hand came to help her support the redhead, she spoke to him in low tones that Kenshin wasn't quite aware enough to catch, other than that they were speaking. The stable boy - at Sato-baa's direction - managed to get Kenshin laid out on a clean futon in one of the rooms, while one of the kitchen helpers brought hot water and towels.

 

“S-Sato-baa…” Kenshin murmured, holding onto consciousness with sheer willpower.

 

“Shh, now you should just rest, Himura-san,” the elderly proprietor soothed. “The doctor is on his way; you'll be just fine.”

 

“K-Katsura… where…?”

 

Kenshin's steady gaze was clouded with pain and exhaustion, but even then it was still intense enough that Sato-baa felt the need to reply. She sighed sadly, shaking her head.

 

“Katsura… heard about the attack and assumed you were dead. He left this morning, and is on his way back to Kyoto.”

 

The relief - and at the same time, upset - was enough that it jolted Kenshin's grip on his adrenalin knot. It unraveled painfully inside his belly, sending him into the darkness.

 

---

.end chapter 2.

--

 

Before I get lynched, I already know this is a lot different from the original draft. Honestly, I think it needed the change (despite Keej telling me she liked the original rewrite better, eep!), though I still can pick out a lot about this chapter that I don't like. X3

 

This chapter (minus the new edits as of May 30, 2006) was beta read by the ever-amazing Nekotsuki. Many, many thanks to her excellent advice. Any mistakes in this story are my own, and not hers.