Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Four Swords ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think I forgot to put this warning in at the beginning of the other chapters.

 

Mild shounen-ai in later chapters.

 

If you have the time, please leave a review, yes?

 

Chapter Three

 

“We're supposed to be used for combat?”

 

“Hai, Sagara-san. That is what they've said.”

 

“That's insane! I didn't agree to help them so I could train farmers to kill soldiers—or be slaughtered by them!”

 

“I'm sorry, Sagara-sama. I only repeat the message I have been ordered to bring.”

 

“Tell them I refuse. I refuse to train my army to be soldiers. They will be trained in defense, but nothing more.”

 

“You know they will refuse…”

 

“Damn them!” A fist pounded on the table. “I'm fighting for peace, do you hear me? I'm siding with the Imperialists so that the poor won't suffer anymore! And I tell you that they will only be trained in defensive technique!”

 

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“Hannya.”

 

“Hai, Aoshi-sama?”

 

“The assassin. Who could it be?”

 

“Ishin Shishi, perhaps. I take that back—likely.”

 

“But not an assassin like Hitokiri Battousai. Those are the kind of assassins the patriots seem to favor.”

 

“No, indeed. This one is a more traditional assassin. Ninja-like, you might say. And they're very clean—very good.”

 

A long pause, then, “Find this assassin.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“I know you can, Hannya. It might take years, possibly, but I know you're the best. The Oniwabanshu can use such a skilled assassin, can't it?”

 

“Hai, Aoshi-sama. I'll start looking now.”

 

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“Just give up, my friend. They are not to be caught yet.”

 

“With all due respect, Captain, shouldn't you be encouraging your men to go after the patriots?”

 

A shrug. “Maybe. But it seems as though they were not meant to be caught this time.”

 

“My men, at least, are out looking for them.”

 

“Good. I'm sure you will be duly rewarded if you should catch them. Look, Saitou, at the garden. The sakura are so lovely this time of year.”

 

“I can see sakura any year in the spring.”

 

“But what if this is your last year?”

 

“Then I will not see the cherry blossoms again. I cannot see how it makes a difference.”

 

“It is the little things, Saitou, that make the differences. I would rather die today having seen these delicate flowers than live a hundred years without ever seeing these seas of pink.”

 

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“Have you heard, Kawami-san, about Lord Nobori's latest escapades?”

 

“No, please tell me.”

 

“He's gaining a great deal of power. It's said that he's raising his own army to fight for his ideas with.”

 

“Who's it made up of?”

 

A shrug. “Heard different things. Rurouni, bandits, fight merchants, ex-Shinsengumi, ex-Oniwabanshu, that lot.”

 

A low, appreciative whistle. “If that's so, then he's got himself some army. Will he help us?”

 

Another shrug. “Who knows what Nobori's thinking? Some say he sides with the patriots, others say he likes the feudal system, and some say he'd just as soon fight for his own version of Japan. We'll be getting more information from the Oniwabanshu, I'm sure. For now, we can only sip our tea and wait.”

 

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The group moved slowly through the streets of Kyoto, searching for signs of the patriots they knew were here. They stalked down streets in a large group, trying to intimidate the Ishin Shishi and provoke them at the same time.

 

“Saitou-san,” the shortest and youngest looking one said.

 

“Hmmm?” the tall man beside him responded.

 

“Why do you think the assassin fights for the Imperialists?”

 

“Ara? What kind of question is that?”

 

“A good one, I imagine, because you can't answer it,” the younger-looking man teased.

 

Saitou's eyes narrowed dangerously, but his companion was not afraid. Saitou was an amazing swordsman, with his Gatotsu technique, but he was led by three words that did not apply to his companion. He liked to press Saitou's buttons every so often. He was always so serious and so dreary… though he smiled occasionally, it was a smile to be feared.

 

He smiled most when he smelled the blood of the Ishin Shishi.

 

Not that he was demonic or anything, he just had no qualms with killing. Some found it disturbing, but his companion knew that for Saitou, life was simple. It was three words.

 

“Aku. Soku. Zan.”

 

“I care not why the man known as Hitokiri Battousai fights for the patriots. I want to fight and kill him. That is all.”

 

“Aku, soku, zan, ne?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

`Ah, Saitou. I wish life were that simple for me also.”

 

“Okita-san, you choose to make your life more difficult. I do not. I choose to live my life by three words, and three words only, and to forget the many others in between.”

 

“Like sakura?” Okita asked, catching a blossom blowing in the breeze.

 

Saitou snorted. “Especially sakura. They mean little to me, Okita. I cannot see why you put such store by them.”

 

Okita sighed. “You are such a sad and dreary man, Saitou. For one so young, you should appreciate feminine beauty more.”

 

“What?”

 

Okita smiled, the impish grin playing across his lips. “I mean, Saitou, that you are younger than myself, yet you are more pessimistic. You have more years to live than I, yet you appreciate infinitely less. You have health that I do not, yet you think not of a future or family.” He hoped Saitou would ignore the reference to health; he had not meant for that to be said.

 

“I set store by the sakura, Saitou, because they are beautiful and everlasting.”

 

“They are delicate, Okita. Look,” he crushed three blossoms beneath his heel.

 

“But look at how many more are left,” Okita cried happily, spreading his arms to the trees lining the streets. “No matter what happens, they always return to bloom the next year. And no matter how many one man may crush, there are always more to take their place,” he murmured, placing the blossom in his hand in Saitou's.

 

They continued along with the Shinsengumi, each quietly contemplating the pale pink sakura.

 

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“Okita-sama!” a young Shinsengumi called, running up behind the group.

 

“Hai, I am Captain Okita,” he said, stopping and letting the other Shinsengumi move on. Saitou stayed by his side.

 

“Captain Okita. Captain Saitou,” the young man said breathlessly, bowing to each of them. “I bring you news from Hijikata.”

 

“Ara? That is a surprise,” Saitou said, eyes crinkling into what might be considered a smile.

 

“Hai, indeed, what a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe this honor?” Okita asked, smiling broadly at the young man.

 

“Hijikata-sama has asked you to attend to him tonight. He has a new plan for the Shinsengumi raids that he wishes to discuss with you.”

 

“Ah, is that so?” Okita murmured, tapping his fingers against his chin.

 

“Tell Hijikata we will be there,” Saitou said gruffly.

 

“Ah! Saitou! So rude, ne? Please take word to Hijikata-sama that Saitou and I would be glad to see him tonight,” Okita said brightly, smiling again.

 

“Anou… hai!” the flustered young man replied, turning to go.

 

“Chotto matte! Namae wa nan desuka?” Okita asked. (A/N: “Wait a minute! What is your name?”)

 

“Ah… Fujita. Fujita Gorou.”

 

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“Konbanwa, Hijikata-sama,” Okita murmured respectfully, bowing to one of the Vice Commanders of the Shinsengumi. Saitou bowed as well but stayed silent.

 

“Good evening, Okita-san, Saitou-san. Sake?”

 

“Iie, Hijikata-sama,” Okita declined politely. Hijikata held the bottle out to Saitou.

 

He shook his head. “Drinking sake makes me want to kill.”

 

Hijikata displayed no surprise at Saitou's words, but poured himself a small cup and drank it down. “Sake tastes wonderful on a spring night like this,” he murmured to himself.

 

“The young man… Fujita-san told us you had news for us?” Okita asked with a small smile. Saitou looked at his friend. Okita was always wearing a smile, and was always speaking in pleasant tones. Even when fighting, he smiled and spoke politely, ruthless though he was.

 

“Hai, Okita-san. We begin raiding inns tomorrow night.”

 

“Ara?” Saitou asked, slightly surprised.

 

Okita frowned heavily. “What about the people staying in the inn?”

 

“It does not seem like the Shinsengumi to resort to raiding public accommodations,” Saitou muttered darkly. So, Okita thought, slightly amused. Even Saitou does not approve.

 

Hijikata sighed. Okita had not thought that Hijikata came up with this plan on his own; Hijikata was an intelligent and thoughtful man. “We have no choice, Okita-san. The top captains and commanders want something done about the growing number of Ishin Shishi in Kyoto. They proposed this plan to me. I could only accept.”

 

“Hmph,” was Saitou's gruff response.

 

Okita nodded sadly. “Very well, Hijikata-sama. The First and Third troops will begin raids tomorrow night.”

 

It was the first time Saitou had seen a truly sorrowful look on Okita's face.

 

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The next night was dark and cloudy, with only a sliver of moon peeping through to illuminate the streets of Kyoto. Saitou and Okita ran like silent shadows through the streets, destinations already planned.

 

“Turn here,” Saitou hissed at Okita, and Okita gave the signal to the men running behind them.

 

“Open up!” Saitou yelled, banging on the inn door. “Shinsengumi!” To Okita, he muttered, “I hope those damn commanders know what they're doing.”

 

Okita made no response. His face was uncharacteristically grim, and set.

 

The door slid open just barely as a young woman peeked out. “Shinsengumi?” she asked faintly. When she saw Saitou's blue uniform, she drew the door open all the way.

 

“Go!” Saitou barked, and the Shinsengumi poured into the inn.

 

“Gomen,” Okita whispered to the terrified young woman. He dropped a small pouch into her hands. “Take this from me—not a gift from the Shinsengumi, but from myself, as an honorable member.” Then he ran into the street with Saitou to wait for any patriots to come out.

 

A small band of them that had escaped the Shinsengumi inside ran through the door, stopping when they saw Saitou and Okita. Neither had their sword drawn, so the Ishin Shishi tried to take advantage of it.

 

A barely perceptible click indicated Okita had drawn his sword. He drew a large arc in front of him, cutting down three of the men. An upward slash took care of one that was falling towards him. Two steps to the next one—a swift cut to the right, then left. Saitou was staying out of this one, for now, but his sword was drawn and his Gatotsu technique was at ready.

 

A little leap backward and a cut downwards while in the air. A stab into the back as the next one charged. A quick cut across the abdomen, and an upward cut along the breastbone to finish him. A wide horizontal slash across the front to finish.

 

Saitou watched silently. Okita was a good swordsman—no, great—but he was simple and practical. He did what was necessary to do the job. When he was done, Saitou went over to him.

 

“We'll clean up here. Do you want to move on?”

 

“Hai. Arigatou, Saitou-san.”

 

“I'll tell your men where you're going.”

 

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Okita ran around the corner, skidding around to hide behind a building. Gasping for breath, he listened to see if any of the Shinsengumi could hear him. Satisfied that they could not, he took a deep breath.

 

And let the wracking coughs buried in his chest take over.

 

He coughed no harder than usual tonight, but the coughs seemed different to him. They made his body shudder and go into brief spasms. He tasted blood in his mouth, and he spit it out.

 

When at last the coughing subsided, he wiped the blood from his mouth and set out towards the next inn. He could not distinguish between the blood of his enemies and his own blood that stained his uniform.