Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Four Swords ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Good to know that there is some consistency in this world—this fic is as poorly reviewed here as it is on fanfiction.net. Wonderful.

 

But at least here I can tell people are reading. Albeit only 57 hits, but that's not bad, all things considered.

 

Mild shounen-ai in later chapters.

 

Other than the usual “Please review” that's all I've got…

 

Chapter Four

 

“I cannot make them do these things.”

 

“You're under orders, Sagara. You have no choice.”

 

“Is that the way it is? That as soon as we stand to fight for our ideals we must relinquish our power of choice?”

 

“Maybe that's not how it should be, but now… with the Shinsengumi and the Oniwabanshu and the Bakufu all on the tails of the Ishin Shishi, it is hard.”

 

“Before I agreed to help form the Sekihou, I was ordered to do some terrible things. I don't regret them now; I can't afford to. I know why I did them and I know I didn't like doing them. Arson, theft, murder—everything. I had hoped I would not have to ask other men to do the same… to lower themselves and throw away their dignity for their ideals, simply because the government says to.”

 

“You're too idealistic. If a man is to fight for his ideals, it is not unreasonable to expect him to do less than ideal things.”

 

“I've heard that one before.”

 

“So what are you going to do?”

 

“Tell them what you told me. And let them make their own decisions from there.”

 

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“Any luck, Hannya?”

 

“Iie, Aoshi-sama. It is as if the assassin has disappeared. There are no new leads, and no new strikes.”

 

“Odd, isn't it? If the assassin were Ishin Shishi, surely they would know about the Shinsengumi inn raids and be there.”

 

“They were daring enough to take on Oniwabanshu; surely the Shinsengumi would be no problem.”

 

“An independent assassin, then?”

 

“It would seem so.”

 

“Where do they get their information?”

 

“It would be difficult to say, but I would guess through Kawami. He is careless with his words, whereas the Oniwabanshu are not—as you would know. I think he is the most careless of the lords.”

 

“Very well, Hannya. See if you can find out anything through that route. It might yield more answers that way. Oh, and Hannya?”

 

“Hai?”

 

“Start with the servants. They know everything, even if they pretend they don't.”

 

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“Saitou! Saitou!”

 

“What is it, Okita?”

 

“The Second and Fourth units have been assigned tonight. We are free to do as we please!”

 

“Not quite, Okita.”

 

“Oh, Saitou, must you ruin my fun? I am, actually, quite glad we will not need to kill tonight.”

 

“Killing is killing, Okita. You will do it again tomorrow night, if not tonight.”

 

“But think—all the men who might have fallen on our swords will not. Maybe tonight they will live.”

 

“You give them too many chances. You know that if they escape now, they will come back worse than before. And their deaths are inevitable anyway.”

 

“No, Saitou; don't you feel uncomfortable about this new policy?”

 

“More than I thought I would be.”

 

“Ah! So you are human! It is different, to kill like this… I would rather kill when they are meeting, or plotting, or fighting us, than when they are sleeping peacefully. Sleep is when they dream of those pleasant things they have forgotten—childhood, friends, home-cooked meals and soft beds. They dream of those things they hope to achieve—peace, equality, justice. They dream of those things which they may never have—wife, children, home. That is why I dislike this policy so much, Saitou. I cannot bear to destroy their dreams like that.”

 

----------------

 

“What is the news on Nobori?”

 

“It is difficult to say what side he is on, but the Oniwabanshu onmitsu have informed us that he is, indeed, gathering an army. It's made up of mainly those dissatisfied with government in general, it appears.”

 

“Where is he housing this army? How can he maintain such an army?”

 

“They said he has taken over several villages in order to supply the food and such for his men. Their camp has been set up outside of a mountain village called Hanayama, who must be bearing the brunt of the new army. That is all the onmitsu would tell me.”

 

“Mmm. Interesting news, indeed. What should we do?”

 

“Wait, I suppose. When Nobori makes public his army, we should try to win him over.”

 

“He is a sound strategist. The people of the villages have been ordered to work for him and accommodate the new army. The villages surround his own land, so he is somewhat safe, provided his army is well trained.”

 

“Indeed, Lord Kawami. I shall send word to the other lords quickly.”

 

“Thank you. This tea is wonderful; is there any more?”

 

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Place the cups neatly on the tray, next to the teapot. Make sure the tea has been sitting the appropriate amount of time. Fold your sleeves back. Lift and place the cups before them. Pour the tea… No! Damn!

 

The young woman gritted her teeth in annoyance. The Lord did not seem to notice, but she knew that with anymore more attentive she would have been caught. Nearly three months at this, and she still could not pour tea correctly! If the women in the kitchens found out, there would be no end to the torment.

 

And she would not be allowed to go out tonight, which she desperately needed to.

 

Sighing slightly, she attempted again to pour tea for the Lord and his guest. Finally, she did it without any noticeable mistakes and retreated with her tray. She sat in the corner of the room, waiting for their next request. She hated it especially when they sent her out of the room. She feared missing anything.

 

As she listened to the conversation, her eyes fell into their usual half-lidded position. So… this Nobori… She resolved to find out more about Hanayama. She imagined it was within traveling distance for her. The Lord would not need her again today or tomorrow, her day off. She need not return for another two days, then, before her duties required her.

 

Interesting, she thought with a frown. I do not like this Lord Nobori.

 

“Ah, Mieko-chan—“ it irked her still that he regarded her as a child. But then, maybe that was because she refused to bed with him—“is there more tea?”

 

“Hai, Kawami-sama,” she murmured delicately, scooting over to pour the tea.

 

This time, she did it without any mishap.

 

-----------------

 

“Mieko-san! What is wrong with you today? Stop daydreaming!” the head maid, Nakari, demanded.

 

“Ah, gomennasai, Nakari-san.”

 

“Well hurry up and finish washing those tea things. I'm not letting you off until you have.”

 

“Ah, arigatou. I will be going out tonight, Nakari-san, and I don't know when I'll return.”

 

Nakari's eyes narrowed suspiciously. The Lord already disliked this girl because she refused him; what other secrets was she hiding? “Where will you be going?”

 

A shrug. “I don't know yet. I thought about going into Kyoto, or perhaps to one of the mountain villages. They are interesting places.”

 

Nakari sighed. This girl was not suspicious, she decided, only odd. “Very well. Tomorrow is your day off, so I suppose I can't complain too much.”

 

“Hai, arigatou,” Mieko said, folding her dishtowel neatly.

 

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Back in her rooms, Mieko carefully exchanged her expensive, embroidered kimono for a simpler patterned one. She wrapped the obi twice around her and tied it with a simple knot. She lifted her already packed bag and stepped into the hallway.

 

No one was around to watch her leave, so she walked down the hallway and out the servants' gate. Once beyond the reach of the manor house, she slipped into the woods and found the narrow, hidden path. She followed its twists and turns until she reached the small, secret house.

 

Making sure no one was around, she pushed open the door and bolted it. Finally, her night would begin.

 

She pulled the pins from her elaborate hairstyle and let the long ebony hair fall. She wrapped it neatly into a ponytail, in the style of a man. Then she shed her obi and kimono and folded them neatly. She retrieved the long roll of black cloth from her bag, and bound her breasts against her body. Standing only in her undergarments, she reached for her bag again.

 

From it she drew the black clothes and donned them. Then she wrapped a strip of cloth over her mouth. If anything of her face gave her away, it was her sensuous, full mouth. Her eyes revealed nothing. She pulled the gloves on and flexed her fingers.

 

The last part of her preparation was the most difficult. She reached into the bag for the small sack, turning it over to spill its contents on the floor. She inspected every knife, making sure the edges were bright and sharp. Satisfied that they were, she stashed them on her body—two on each leg, one on each arm, two near her waist, and one against her breast. The last thing she took was a short sword—slightly longer than a kodachi, but definitely not a katana—and slid it down her back. She hated carrying it, since she was not a particularly tall woman, but nine knives might not cut it this night.

 

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She darted through the forest, silent as a shadow, leaping from tree to tree or covering the ground with her quick running. Hanayama was not far, she remembered from Kawami's map. If she kept up this pace, she would be there in just a few hours. This pace was not tiring for her, either. The night air invigorated her senses and body. The stars and moon lit her way.

 

She preferred this darkness to the sunshine of the day. Night shrouded and protected her; day left her vulnerable and exposed.

 

As she suspected, the trip to Hanayama took only three hours. Not bad, she thought to herself, dusting her hands against her thighs.

 

“Hmmm,” she murmured to herself. “Now where to?”

 

She started by wandering through the town, staying in dark alleyways and the roofs. Finally, she found an inn that seemed to be open, and seemed to be selling sake. Perfect place for that army to be at this time.

 

She dropped down beside a wall that light was shining through. She settled down on her haunches to listen.

 

“Ah, have you heard what those men did to Akemi-san?” a woman's voice said softly.

 

Gasps. At least five people. And not fighters, either.

 

“And her brother… they say he'll never wield a sword again!”

 

“If only the Lord Nobori had not brought those men!”

 

“Shhh! Say things like that and we'll all pay!”

 

“Keep talking. I have no problem taking care of you,” a cold voice said.

 

Shit! Where did he come from? Mieko thought, scrambling to her feet and frantically looking for a way in. A woman cried out sharply. Oh, damn! she thought, as she threw her body against the paper and wood walls.

 

A quick glance told her everything she needed to know. Two women and two men cowered against a wall, four of the five people she'd heard earlier. Not bad, Mieko. Sharpening your hearing is going very well. The third woman was being held by the neck of her kimono by a man, a sword at her throat.

 

Without a sound she leapt forward, deciding that she would start with fists instead of knives. The man hissed and dropped the woman, turning his sword on Mieko. Narrowing her eyes, she ducked, dropping her head to the side to avoid the swing. She came up underneath and landed an upward punch to his jaw. Pressed against his body, she pulled her left hand back and punched straight into his diaphragm. He grunted, but she refused to let up. With her left hand she held his hakama; with her right, she continued to pummel him. At last, she pushed off the ground with both feet and kicked into his chest.

 

He dropped heavily to the ground, then grabbed his katana and swung it wildly at her. She leapt cleanly off the ground so that it swung beneath her feet. She landed on his chest, watching the horror take over his face. With her right foot she pinned his sword-hand to the ground.

 

“Never take advantage of an innocent woman,” she hissed, flipping out the knife hidden on her right arm and slitting his throat.

 

She stood with a sigh. What am I going to do with this body?

 

Deepening her voice, she spoke to the five civilians without turning to them. “If I take this body, will you clean up?”

 

“H…Hai…” one of the men stammered.

 

“Good. Clean up and fix that wall. Was this man staying here?”

 

“I…Iie,” the woman who had nearly died said.

 

“Even better. I'll take care of this.”

 

She slung the dead body over her shoulder. Shit, there'll be blood on my clothes now.

 

She leapt onto the roofs, running over them back towards the forest.

 

-------------------

 

Mieko landed silently on the outskirts of the army camp and glanced around. If I were an asshole who just raped a girl and beat her brother… I would be bragging to my fellows.

 

That decided, she ran around the edge of the camp, searching for the pinprick of light that indicated wakefulness. A fire. Men sitting around a fire.

 

At last, she saw it between tents. She darted past the tents and knelt beside one closest to the men. She heard him boasting, and gagged. I hate men like that. He reminded her of Kawami—disgusting, but highly useful for information. Men like that couldn't keep their mouths shut.

 

“She was a good one,” he gloated. “Didn't expect to find such… sweetness out here,” he chortled, wrapping his tongue seductively around the word “sweetness.” Her eyes narrowed. Now she wanted him dead.

 

“And her brother! Foolish boy. Came running up swinging at me with his shinai… I crushed his hand to make sure he never challenges me again.” And he'll never defend his sister again.

 

She gritted her teeth and settled down to wait. This man would be relating his tale for a long time, and she intended to follow him back to his tent. He would pay—but only him, and quietly, too.

 

It took nearly an hour before the men stood and moved away to their tents. Stealthily, she followed him to his tent, avoiding the other men. Her dark clothing blended in perfectly with the shadows, and her bright eyes were like twin stars in the sky.

 

Perfect, she thought, as he entered his tent near the edge of the camp. Some god was watching over her—and the young woman Akemi and her brother—tonight.

 

She waited for just a few moments before she struck. She hated striking an unarmed, sleeping man, no matter how despicable they were. She swiftly cut through the tent material and stood before him, waiting for him to at least draw his sword. He was surprised at first, but then he snarled and took up his sword.

 

He was as bad a fighter as the other man. But she still had to be clean. She flipped the knife on her left arm out as he lunged clumsily at her, blocking the katana with her small knife. Fast. I need to be fast so no one wakes up. Mieko frowned to herself. She wanted this man to suffer… but then, she wanted to protect herself as well.

 

The man brought his sword down as if to slice her in two, but she calmly reached up and stopped him barehanded. Twisting his wrists downward with her strong hands, she hissed, “You ruined more than one innocent life today. And for that, you will pay.”

 

She forced him backwards then flung the knife in her left hand, letting it fly straight and true. It landed with the familiar squelch in the man's throat. She let him fall forward onto his tatami, then yanked the knife from his body. Without hesitation she wrapped his dead body in the tatami, careful to ensure that no blood escaped.

 

She carried her burden out into the night, darting into the forest to hide herself. She turned back towards the camp one last time.

 

I'll be back for any more of you tomorrow, she thought, amber eyes flaring like miniature suns in the moonlight.