Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Strongest Will Always Feed off the Weak ❯ Citation ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5: Citation

"Get out of here boy!"

A crescent of a moon shown down on the restless signs and flags, Soujiro paddled his way through the snow-covered streets of the main market place. All the bustle of business and customers had left the marketplace a couple of hours ago. No one would see the bruised and bloody boy that walked with an almost drunken gait. His small feet left bloody footprints in the snow.

Snow drizzled down, catching in his sweat-matted hair. He collapsed to his knees, one hand out to catch him the other clutching his chest. Small, choked coughs echoed throughout the closed market. The coughing left him gasping for breath.

Moving backwards to rest on his shins, Soujiro wiped the spit and sweat from his face. He pushed forward, stumbling to his feet. The drunkenness of his gait was his sprained ankle refusing to move properly. With the knowledge that he wouldn't last much longer, and the threat of death if anyone found him alive, Soujiro headed for an alleyway that most likely wasn't used.

A few feet from the entrance the small boy collapsed face first into the fresh snow. He struggled fruitlessly to get back on his feet. The last of his strength was used to push his head to the side so that the snow would not suffocate him. His breathing was labored, his fingers growing numb in the blinding cold that surrounded him.

Muffled footsteps came from behind him, kicking up the feathery blanket of snow.

"Get up, Soujiro," a gruff voice called out.

All Soujiro could manage was a grunt in reply. A twitch of his arm was the only response that he got when he tried to move it.

A strong hand reached out and pulled him out of the snow. The man threw him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"Soujiro, don't ever leave again even if they tell you to." Soujiro recognized the voice, flinching at the harsh tone. "We can't have you running off. What would the neighbors think?"

He tried to respond to that but his vision blurred, then darkness filled his eyes and mind…

Soujiro woke up with a start, fully expecting to wake up in the rice shed, but he was in another place that he had abandoned.

He left the bed to change into a clean set of clothes, and then set out to look for his travel bag that he could carry some more items in. He stuffed the extra clothes into the bag then bound the top of it. He tucked his sword into his belt and tied his wallet on the other side.

With one last look, Soujiro left.

>>>

Yumi didn't think about rest when she entered her room, she, instead, prepared herself a bath. She lit the scented candles that lined the edges of the tub that was set into the ground. Soon, with the western styled plumbing she had hot water in the tub. She let slid her kimono from her tense muscles then slipped into the water. The water soaked into her, relaxing her like sleep could not. She removed her hairpiece, shaking her head slightly so that her hair would come undone.

The aroma from the candles slowly lulled peace into her mind, letting her think clearly.

She slowly but thoroughly cleaned herself, as if she were cleansing away her worries.

She massaged into her scalp her perfumed shampoo, the one that smelt of sweet nectar. She relaxed, leaning her head against the side of the tub letting the shampoo soak in, looking up to the ceiling. She would have to get out soon, she knew. Relaxation was a luxury she could not afford at the moment. She allowed herself a few more minute of the therapeutic aroma of the scented candles before plunging her body into the warm water, rinsing herself of soap.

The soft churning of the water was the only indication that she had slipped out, her damp hair heavy against her exposed skin. She dripped past the candles to the towel rack, pulling one off to dry herself off.

It was sometimes unnecessary for her to do this menial task when she bathed with her Lord Shishio. His hot body temperature would heat the bath, also causing it to evaporate. When they would climb out of the tub they had shared, she would cling to his naked body and he to hers.

Yumi sighed as she toweled herself dry, she would have to stop thinking about that sort of stuff, no use dwelling in the past. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Yumi put on a robe and went to her room, which was connected to the bathroom through a door.

Yumi dressed into her most comfortable kimono then left her room to go check on the inert Shishio in his own room. Hesitating at outside, starring at the doorknob before regaining her confidence and then strode into the room. A small smell hit her, a putrid smell but it was faint it might not be noticeable to someone not looking for it. This particular smell brought forth unwanted memories that she forcible pushed back.

The door creaked. Yumi looked over her shoulder to find the most unlikely person ever. Uonuma Usui was standing in the doorway with one of his smirks, his hand held the white cloth that covered his eyes up so that one of his scared eyes peeped out. Yumi shivered involuntarily. Usui had always given her the creeps attacking Lord Shishio all the time, trying to kill him.

"Yumi," he said through his smirk.

Yumi couldn't help the dirty look she gave him, the man got on her nerves more often than not. "What are you doing here Usui? Shouldn't you be waiting in the-"

"I was told that I could attack Lord Shis-"

"As you can tell, Lord Shishio is not here." Yumi smiled, two can play at that game. "Is there a reason that you are still here?"

Usui sniffed as if she had hurt him, "Nervous Yumi? What would you have to be nervous about?" Usui smiled at his sudden leap ahead, he won that little battle. "My minds eye sees all, you shift in that kimono of yours." Usui pointed to an eye that adorned his eye band.

"Whatever are you talking about? You take me too lightly Usui," Yumi walked past him that moved to the side, turned to wait for him to follow, but he didn't follow. He stood rooted in the doorway, peering into Lord Shishio's room as if yesterday' scene was still pained across the room. Yumi had been careful to remove all and any blood she saw, but that didn't guarantee that all was gone. Nor did it guarantee that the smell of the blood wasn't still thick in the room.

Usui turned to Yumi, a thoughtful look about the set of his mouth. He was facing her way, not exactly starring at her, but studying her nonetheless. An all-knowing smile graced his lips, sending shivers down Yumi's spine. She decided she did not want to play his games anymore.

She gave him a cold stare that matched her cold shivers. "If you are done, Usui, I have many things to be doing."

Usui was left with his mouth open, his comment useless if said to the woman's back.

Yumi decided that she hadn't handled herself with the grace that she normally did, but under the circumstances she had done better than she had thought. Usui seemed to know something that he wouldn't tell her.

'Might he have figured something out about Lord Shishio?' Yumi considered.

She shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts, they would only lead to her more stress than she could handle at a time.

The hallway was a blur; she didn't pay attention to where she was going she just wanted to get away from Usui and his silent accusations. Which didn't help the growing feeling of guilt deep within the pit of her gut.

Yumi stood outside of Houji's study thinking of how she could tell him. It would be easier to control him if it was her that told him about Lord Shishio then if Kamatari did. Houji was valuable. It might have been wiser if she had told him from the start instead of the hotheaded man that she had told.

Smiling encouragement to herself, Yumi nudged open the door.

"Yumi."

The unexpected voice of Houji behind startled Yumi. She turned quickly but tried to hide it with a generous smile.

"Ah, hello Houji, I was just coming to see you."

He eyed her, "I can see." Houji was wearing his normal garb. His western suit was a green a couple shades darker than Yumi's lipstick. "I was wondering if you know what Lord Shishio requested Soujiro do."

"Excuse me?" Yumi hid herself behind marble eyes.

"I don't mean that I want to know what Soujiro was doing for Lord Shishio, but where he went." There was a nervousness about his voice, as if Yumi would accuse him of plotting against Lord Shishio. She smiled at it. He must have taken it the wrong way, "well, he came back in a sorry state. His clothes looked like he had gone through a lot, he seemed weary."

"What?" Yumi lunged forward, catching Houji's arm in a tight grip. "Soujiro is here? Where? Where did you see him?"

Houji's wide-eyed stare did nothing to promote caution in Yumi. "Why?"

Houji was relieved when she let go over his arm but was soon to fall to the confusion when she hiked up her kimono around her knees and took off running. Never had he seen her move faster than walk.

Houji took off after Yumi in hopes to find the reason to her uncharacteristic behavior.

>>>

Kamatari sat slouched in a chair, one in a pair that sat at a small round table set to the side of the fireplace in the room he sported when he was in.

He felt useless. There was nothing he could do which bothered him. He sighed limply.

Kamatari poured himself another glasses of one of the strong drinks he kept in the room. He had grabbed a couple of bottles not caring how strong they were, and hopping that they were strong enough to calm him. The rim of the glass was wet from his lips. His finger circled around the rim as his mind did circles.

The sound of glass smashing against the wall broke him out of his chaotic reverie. The room was no different then before.

A warm and wet sensation trickled down his stinging hand.

Sometime during his deliberations he had gripped the glass cup, tightening it to the cups limitations until it cracked. A shard of glass had ripped open his palm. Among the drink was his crimson blood.

Kamatari shook his hand of the alcohol and glass. He found some bandages. Fixing up his hand the strangest thought came to him.

How will I be able to wield my chain-scythe?

The bandaging on his right hand would limit its flexibility. The state of the wound would give him pause to use anything bigger than chopsticks for a few weeks, if not a month.

He knew he shouldn't have been so careless and he berated himself for the weakness. How will he answer the call to arms if he couldn't wield his scythe, how will he support Yumi, Lord Shishio, if he is wounded? He wanted to slam his hand down, he wanted to bite off the infirmity, he wanted to rage, he wanted his ire to bring Soujiro to heel before himself. He wanted Soujiro to fell and bend to his will.

What he needs is to calm down.

The glass and drink still lay on the table as if to taunt him, saying that he could do nothing right even for his lord and love.

Kamatari laughed at that, at still being able to say, even if it was to himself, that he loved Shishio. He had been drawn to him, at first, by his swordsmanship. His strength. Then was lured even further by his impressive will, his will to live even with the bastards that had burned him alive ruled the country. The man, Makato Shishio, was burned alive by his comrades, then shot in the forehead and left for dead. This had been what immortalized him for Kamatari.

A soft sigh whistled through Kamatari's clenched jaw, he always became unreasonably angry when he thought too long of Soujiro or the problem at hand which had been often.

The wooded table had mostly absorbed the drink. It would soon stain if he didn't do anything about it. He sighed, exhaling through his nose, his mouth being covered by his bandaged hand. He didn't want to fix it yet. To many things that need fixing and no one qualified to do it.

Kamatari turned on his heel, his blue Kimono with an intricate red-orange design on at the hem twirling around his legs as he left his room to wander the corridors. His right hand was clutched firmly to his chest, pressing into the kimono, his head down with his bangs shadowing his eyes. An involuntary shudder passed through his tense body.

He stopped, leaning back against the wall to slow down his increasing heart rate. His mind was jittery. Nervousness, doubt, what is he going to do? He slowed his breathing down to its normal rate, the depression that had so suddenly taken hold left as quickly as it had settled onto his mind.

He was thankful that the corridor remained empty, and praying to Buddha and any other god out there that it remained that way. He let out a deep breath, continuing to slow down his breathing to a meditative state. His face laced with sadness turned to look down the corridor as constricts that had entered deep within himself loosened. Kamatari closed his eyes knowing fully that he looked pitiful, a proud member of the Juppon-gatana cowering like a child for all to see.

He tilted his head up, breathing in deeply then pushed off the wall continuing walking. His feet held his up despite them shaking and threatening to bend at each step. Voices floated to his ears from the end of the corridor where it branched to three others, he was at another intersection. He took the one that was silent, not trusting himself near others yet. His knees still wobbled.

His feet where silent on the soft carpet that adorned this branch of walkways, there were tables across from each other with a vase with flowers in them ever so often across the corridor that Kamatari is now in. He stopped to admire the flowers in one vase long enough to smell them. His jitteriness evaporated at every step, until it left him as if it had never came, no traces of it left but the memory.

Up ahead was another intersection, a three-way intersection, the candles dimmed as the corridor went directly ahead, to the right there it seemed to be lit but Kamatari couldn't tell if it was brighter or not. The decision was made as he made his way to the right of the hallway he's in. The closer he got the brighter the hallway seemed. The gloomy hallway that was straight ahead would just due to dampen his spirits again. He rounded the corner to run smack into someone smaller than himself, he stumbled forward, the other person stumbling into him.

Kamatari's hands rested on the shorter man's shoulder his head to the side of the other's head, and the man's hands got a hold on the excess material of Kamatari's kimono that hung around his waist. "I'm so sorry, I was not looking where I was going." Kamatari slowly pulled himself away making sure that he would stand upright, his hands trailed down the shoulder's to hold onto the hands of the man he had walked into to make sure he too would not fall. He eyes took in the brown hair, to the youthful face that looked just as startled as Kamatari felt. Kamatari wasn't just startled at almost knocking him over.

Soujiro stood before him, looking for all the world like he did before. Nothing had changed about him, but then again, why should there be?

Kamatari drew back starring at him, wondering what foul trick of the gods this was. He was wounded, didn't have a weapon and even if he did he wouldn't be able to use it with his right hand bandaged as it is. They stared at each other. Kamatari tried to keep his face impassive until he knew what to do but sooner or later, he knew, the anger in him would crack his face and resolve.

To the side he noticed another of those tables with the vase of flowers on them. It's within arm's reach. Kamatari's hand shot out like a snake, wrapped around the vase and brought it to the empty space where the boy had been, flowers and water trailing behind the arc of the attack.

A kick to his back added to the precarious lunge sent him sprawling to the floor. He landed on his face, the vase smashing into the carpet a few inches from his face.

"So you know," came a deathly calm voice from behind him. Soujiro didn't stand still, the vibration of his light steps telling Kamatari that he was leaving.

Kamatari pushed himself up on shaky arms. He never was good at on the spot situations and this just went to prove that they would need someone else to help them fight, some one that was a hell of a lot stronger than he is. Someone strong enough to compensate for Soujiro's speed.

Kamatari brought his hand up to wipe the blood from his chin.