#at arm's length | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tact-and-impulse · 1 year

Text

At Arm's Length Chapter 23

Blood, sweat, and tears - it's all down to this. On FF.net and AO3!

Chapter 23: Answer

Three days had passed since then. Koshijiro had overexerted himself and was confined to the clinic with Yahiko and Himura. Takani delivered thorough admonishment.

“Ken-san, you’re incredibly malnourished; you need to eat or I’ll start with a funnel! As for you, Yahiko, those dagger injuries are still at risk of infection and you have to let them fully heal. And I can’t believe I have to say this, but Kamiya-san! You nearly opened your shoulder wound. I swear, the rest of these idiots are rubbing off on you…”

“I regret nothing.” He resolutely answered and he meant it. “I would do it all over again, to protect Tokyo.”

Makimachi jumped in. “Megumi, everything’s fine now! Even better, we know where we’re going!” The island was to the south, roughly twenty kilometers east of the Izu archipelago. It was reportedly uninhabited, given its high cliffs, but it was on the supply route they previously discovered and a direct path to Shanghai could easily be mapped out.

Upon hearing this information, Koshijiro attempted to leave the bed. “We need to prepare for the trip. We have to set sail at any moment.” He felt a sharp pinch in his arm and looked downwards to find a needle in Takani’s hand.

“Not you. You have to rest.”

A numbness radiated from the injection site, spreading in a wave to his chest and head. “You gave me a sedative.” He said in disbelief, and he couldn’t prevent his eyelids from falling.

“Sorry, Kamiya-san, but we’ll take care of everything.” Those were the last words he heard, before he plunged into sleep.

And so, he was trapped in that little room. He was allowed visitors, and the young officers were among the first, relaying the news that the chief inspector would return to duty soon. The station was being urgently rebuilt…also, there were rumors of a medal, which Koshijiro winced at.

“It’s unnecessary. Please tell the chief I said that.” However, from their proud expressions, he doubted they’d try to dissuade any of the higher-ups. They left with such good cheer and he had to suppress a sigh. Well, the morale boost was promising.

Then, Tae and Tsubame arrived. They stopped by Koshijiro first, and he thanked the girl. “Tsubame, you did an excellent job of finding Himura-san.”

“I-it was nothing! I’m glad he heard me. Megumi-san said he’s asleep though.”

“He has to recover as much as he can. However, Yahiko should be awake in his room.”

She smiled, ducked her head, and headed next door. However, Tae lingered. “Thank you, Kamiya-san, for what you did. But are you alright? This week, so much has happened.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He hesitated before adding. “We’re going to depart very soon. It has to do with our attacker and I’m sorry, but I can’t say more. Not until we’re all home again.” He hoped she caught his choice in words, the use of ‘attacker’ instead of ‘murderer’, and his particular emphasis.

A long pause followed. Tae’s eyes flickered to the window and back to him. Slowly, she said. “I think I understand. You know, someone left red spider lilies on Kaoru’s gravesite. She might not like those, so I’ll clean them up.” She said this casually, but even he knew that the flowers represented the afterlife.

“Thank you. That would be appropriate.”

She gave a tight smile, and abruptly, tears sprung from her gaze. “If…if anyone is hurt when you return, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can. Please.”

It was an odd reaction from her, something he’d never seen before, but he readily agreed. “Of course, Sekihara-san.”

Hastily, she wiped her eyes and exhaled. “Well, I’ll check on Yahiko and Tsubame, though they’re probably behaving.” Her smile was a little wobbly but she was otherwise calm.

He didn’t have time to consider her behavior because Takani entered to examine him. She was acting as sole provider, having negotiated with Dr. Gensai to cover the clinic alone until they inevitably left Tokyo.

“How are the others?” He asked.

“Ken-san had soup for lunch but he can try solid food tonight. He’s sleeping restfully for once, so I’ve placed a sign on his door not to disturb him. Yahiko looks like he wants to practice kenjutsu, I’m keeping a close eye in case he sneaks out.” She proceeded with a rudimentary exam. “And there’s something else. I’ve made up my mind. After everyone recovers from this upcoming fight, I’m going to Aizu.”

“The Aizu police haven’t replied yet, but perhaps, they need another reminder.”

“It isn’t just that. I know I want to return there, to find my mother and brothers. You never gave up on Kaoru, and my family has no one else but me. I have lived long enough in self-pity; I’m ready to look for them.” She sounded certain of herself. “Besides, I can always return to visit, right?”

“Absolutely. You’re welcome at the dojo any time.”

“Thank you. Still, I think I will miss everyone.” A familiar sadness flickered across her face, and with that, she briskly walked away.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t the last of her because not two hours later, her voice echoed from the front. Koshijiro strained to listen, and he got up, peering into the hall. Hurried footsteps paced closer, two sets and one was certainly heavier.

“At this point, I can’t even be surprised. Sit down in that room, and I’ll bring my supplies.”

“Fine, fine.” But the low voice was laidback, and Koshijiro stared at Sagara, standing near an adjacent door and cradling his bandaged right hand. The young man broke into a wide grin. “Hey, old man! I made it in time.”

“Welcome back. You do seem a little worse for the wear.” Koshijiro wryly said, nodding at the injury.

“Got a story behind this, once we’re all together. I have you to thank for that, for pushing me in the right direction.” Then, Takani approached, a box of dressings tucked under her arm.

“You’re lucky you weren’t delayed; otherwise, we would’ve left you behind. Now, Ken-san is the only one who needs to be ready.”

“How is he?” His tone was guarded.

“Much better, because of Kamiya-san.”

“Gotta thank you twice then.” He gave a two-fingered salute. “And? What’s the plan?”

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be a docile patient, so Koshijiro joined them. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Yahiko barged in.

“I knew it! I knew I heard you, Sanosuke! Where the heck have you been?!”

“To my parents’ house in Nagano.” Ah, he did reunite with his family. “I left last night.”

“That’s far!” Takani exclaimed.

“Yeah, and I’m starving.”

With such prompting, they had a late lunch after Sagara’s superficial wounds were treated. The boys eschewed their table manners again, eating as if their bowls would be swiped underneath them. But the sight was reassuring, and at least, they refrained from belching, though it could’ve been due to the arrival of Shinomori. His posture was brimming with intent, in contrast to the slouching Makimachi who heaved a sigh as she propped her feet up. Then, she nearly jumped out of her skin, noticing Sagara.

“Wait, you’re here! That’s great, because everything’s all set! We’re going to leave tonight, after sunset.” It was much faster than anticipated, but a welcome update.

Shinomori supplied. “Yes, and our first stop is at Port Yokosuka, to convene with the Navy ships. After that, we will head on a direct path for the island while they flank and guarantee no one escapes. In the event that the main ship is slowed down, our group will take a rowboat and land as the initial offensive. Saito’s squad is currently loading the ship, so we should gather our things.” Meaningfully, his hands fell to his kodachi.

“I got my kunai!” Makimachi happily announced, followed by Takani’s nod.

“I’ll pack my medicine chest.”

Koshijiro then said. “Yahiko, we’ll have to return to the dojo and retrieve new shinai.”

“Sure! Two, right?”

“Three.” He clarified. “One for me, one for you, and one for Kaoru.” Yahiko broke into a knowing grin.

“Of course, she does need a weapon.”

“And all I need are my hands, so we gotta hurry!” Sagara bellowed. He pushed his chair back, stomping out of the little room. “Come on, Kenshin!” Before they could tell him to stop, he was already heaving the door aside. “Ken…shin?”

The crowding didn’t help Koshijiro’s perspective, and for a moment, an uneasy dread chilled his fingertips. But then, he caught sight of Himura. He was out of bed, standing by the open window, the white curtains fluttering. The sakabato was in his hands, and he was in the midst of sliding it back into its sheath. His expression was considering and purposeful, just as he turned, blinking at all of them. “This one is sorry to have kept you waiting.”

The others seemed stunned; he looked well-rested and fully recovered. Koshijiro stepped forward. “It’s alright. Do you believe in your new vow?”

“Yes.” Himura lifted the sakabato before him, in a show of resolve. “This one does.”

“Very good.” He smiled before pausing. “When you face Yukishiro again, there will be no room for doubt. Not again.”

“Understood.” Fire burned in his gaze. “Let’s go! To where Kaoru-dono is!”

And in a single voice, they assented. “Yes!”

***

The moon was rising over the dark undulating ocean, directly shining upon the smooth hull of their nondescript sailing vessel. Waves lapped against the dock, the repetitive sound echoing around them as they walked. Koshijiro maintained a guarded eye. The dojo had been left in Tokio’s capable hands, the boys napping while she resolutely locked the gate. Now, up ahead, he trusted that Saito’s squad and the crew were handling the matters of setting off. The cool salty air was tinged with tobacco, Saito stamping out a cigarette. At his side, there was a familiar figure who lifted a bandaged hand in greeting.

“Long time no see.” Sawagejo grinned. “So, this is it, huh?”

“You were discharged from the hospital?” Koshijiro asked. The man was further wrapped under his collar, hinting at healing burns, but he was standing on his own.

“Not that I wanted to stick around either, I was itching to get out.” He lowered his voice to a hiss. “One of you better land a good hit on Yukishiro for me! It’s the least he deserves for trying to kill me.”

Saito interjected, lip curling. “And as I told you, he’ll get what he deserves, one way or another.” He was still angry about the transfer to the Chinese government, stalking towards the boarding plank. The group followed suit, Sagara checking shoulders with Sawagejo.

The hammocks below deck were offered to them, but they all chose to stay above, watching in tense silence. But there were no interruptions. The boat began to drift, the lights of Tokyo bobbing and gradually shrinking into pinpricks, before the city disappeared entirely. They were safe for the time being, seemingly undetected. Nevertheless, any conversation was idle and short-lived.

It was a smooth trip to Port Yokosuka, and the trio of Naval ships were marked by their raised flags. The anchor had been dropped for mere minutes, when Hayashi came to greet them. He was accompanied by a taller young man with a serious clean-shaven face, and he headed straight for Koshijiro, firmly shaking hands.

“There’s that expression, the one you always had before a tournament. I have fifty men for this voyage, plenty of ammunition for our cannons, and Lieutenant Ehara is our best navigator.” He jabbed a thumb to the man, who immediately saluted. “Come aboard, I hear we have a tiger to hunt.”

Leaving the first boat in the harbor with the doubly paid crew, they were ushered onto the largest Navy ship, designed for traversing open sea. Hayashi issued orders, Ehara taking point at the helm and focusing on an array of maps. The stars shifted, the land retreated, and soon, they were surrounded by water at all sides. It was close to midnight and Yahiko tried in vain to hide his yawns.

“Just…a little longer…”

“I don’t think so. Off to bed with you.” Takani retorted, prodding his lower back. “And that goes for all of us.”

“In a minute.” Makimachi said, peering into the depths. Her new kunai flashed between her fingers, both wrists flexing in purposeful motion. Shinomori wordlessly loomed over her, though he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Koshijiro’s vision was then abruptly blocked by Hayashi, who coaxed him to sit on a nearby crate. “I’m afraid I don’t have sake this time, but I feel you wouldn’t partake anyway.”

“No. I don’t think I can sleep well, but I’ll try to close my eyes.” He stared into the dark distance. Kaoru was waiting out there.

“If it was my child, I’d probably act the same as you. Perhaps even worse.” Hayashi’s expression was foreboding.

“How are they, and your wife?”

“She’s well, and I hate to leave her alone with the children, but she told me to go.” He smiled. “By the way, the twins are here and thank any god who listened, because they’re girls. Sanako and Sawako. Mirror images of each other. The boys love them to bits and they rarely cry.”

“Ah, you have your calm ones.” Koshijiro said.

“For now, at least.” He nodded across the deck, where Himura was standing in perfect silence. “Who’s the redhead?”

“Himura-san. He is…someone special to Kaoru.”

“Oh? And what do you think of him?”

“He’s a good man. I trust him.”

Those fox eyes narrowed in scrutiny, followed by a grin. “I see, he has your approval. Well then, I’ll leave you to rest until we get closer to the island. Good night!”

And now that his friend called it to attention, that was an unresolved point. Koshijiro laid in one of the bunk beds, sleeping in dreamless fits. Sagara snored above, masked by the rolling waves. The darkness was receding, and grabbing the two shinai he had taken on, Koshijiro decided it was finally time to wait on the deck.

But he wasn’t the only one. Himura was sitting in a secluded corner, almost hidden except for the breeze ruffling his hair. His gaze turned from the indigo sky to Koshijiro. “Kamiya-dono.”

“Himura-san.” He inclined his head. “I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”

“Not at all, this one was thinking it was time to stop resting.” He rose to his feet and joined Koshijiro. For a minute, they watched the sea, becoming blue-green with the impending dawn.

“There is something I wanted to discuss with you.” His pulse was kicking up, and he continued, trying to quell his nerves. “Sagara-san said something interesting when we were in Kyoto, that you thought you heard Kaoru’s voice while you were on your way to fight.”

“That did happen.” Himura acknowledged.

“At the time, I asked Kaoru how she felt about you and I was unsure of where you stood. I meant to ask you after you recovered, but it’s been tumultuous since then and I thought it was best to wait. Until now. Now, I believe it’s the right time.” He regarded Himura seriously. “Could you tell me, what are your feelings for my daughter?”

For a moment, he was quiet. “As you said, Kamiya-dono, it is best to start at the beginning. This one had been wandering for ten years before coming to Tokyo. On that evening, there was a young woman, calling out to Hitokiri Battousai and accusing him of dishonoring the name of Kamiya Kasshin. She attacked this one with her shinai.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.” He smiled at the memory. “She was bold and bright. She believed in her own conviction so strongly, in using the sword to protect people. This one was…intrigued. So, this one felt like staying, to see if that world she spoke of would become reality. Perhaps, since then, this one has watched her. Her lively spirit, her growing confidence, her infinite kindness. When she was captured by Jin-e and she broke free from his hold, the first thing she said was that she was alright. And at that time, this one thought he never wanted to look away from her.”

Oh. So, it was since then. “…Kaoru’s only had eyes for you as well, even after you had to leave.”

Himura cleared his throat. “To say goodbye to her was difficult enough; embracing her was only selfishness on this one’s part.” Wait, he had embraced her? But he was still talking before Koshijiro could request a pause. “And when she came to Kyoto, this one was angry and relieved, but now, this one realizes those weren’t half feelings. At the root, they were the same emotion. And along with it, there was fear. Of unworthiness for her, of rejection by her, but most of all, for her safety. This one swears it will not happen again. Never.”

“I believe you.” Koshijiro murmured.

Himura’s eyes lit, accepting, and he continued. “Until now, this one didn’t realize how starved he was, until meeting Kaoru-dono. Every day was full of warmth and kindness. Within this one’s heart,” His hand lifted to clasp his chest. “Kaoru-dono has ignited a flame, and that flame has only grown, with every person who has crossed our path. Kamiya-dono, this one would like to walk together with her, to return home, and to see her smile, always. This one loves Kaoru-dono.” He said it easily, with only the slightest hint of color on his face.

It definitely was infectious, because Koshijiro felt warm as he held up his hand to stop Himura from divulging further. “I appreciate your forthrightness. Kaoru will too, when she’s here and safe with us.”

“Yes.” He softly agreed.

Then, the ship abruptly quieted, no longer speeding towards the island but progressing with caution. Hayashi was directing the men with a hushed voice, and he headed for Koshijiro.

“We’ll reach the island in ninety minutes, so we’re changing pace. The winds are favorable, but this fog won’t last, so we’ll be visible sooner than we’d like.”

“Understood. Where do you want us to be?”

Following orders, the eight of them gathered at the bow. The two other ships drifted apart, preparing to flank. Then, on the horizon, a spot gradually grew larger, and dark green treetops encircled a portion that appeared to be a cove. Along the sheer cliffsides, the white shapes of seagulls rode the air currents. This was the island.

“The ship’s turning.” Saito noted, gaze narrowing. A second later, the motion became discernible; the vessel was pulling ninety degrees. “Why?”

The answer came from the young Lieutenant Ehara, putting away a telescope. “There are underwater mines ahead. It’s too dangerous for us to advance, so we’ll anchor and deploy the rowboats.”

“We’ll take the first one. Let’s go.”

Fortunately, they all fit, the oars seized by Sagara and Saito. As they were lowered into the ocean, Yahiko asked. “How are we going to get through?”

“Leave it to me!” Makimachi planted one knee down, unsheathing her daggers. “Like a kingfisher’s beak, I’ll pierce the mines and clear a path.”

“Thank you, Misao-dono.” Himura smiled. He was tucked into the rear of the boat, the sakabato’s hilt resting on his shoulder. Collectively, they had agreed to take care of every obstacle and opponent, so he would reserve his energy for fighting Yukishiro.

“You got it!” She began to mutter to herself. “Sixty-one and a half meters, thirty degrees to the right…thirty-two?”

“It is as we practiced.” Shinomori stood behind her. “Misao, your gaze should be on the changes in the waves.”

“R-right! So, it should be…twenty-nine point seven degrees!”

“Good.”

And with that approval, her dagger flew, disappearing into a foaming crest. A second later, a muffled blast followed, the explosion contained to a high spray of water. She tossed a pleased grin to them. “See that? Now, full speed ahead!”

Koshijiro’s heart jumped to his throat, with the rise and fall of the little boat. Salty droplets misted across his face, but his attention didn’t waver from the island. Successive splashes kicked up as Makimachi forged a straight line to the cove; if Yukishiro was maintaining any surveillance, they had to be visible. But there were no additional gunfire or cannon shots from the approaching trees, and the broad expanse of golden sand was empty. In the shallow water, the oars were no longer needed, and they trudged into the low surf.

They had landed.

***

The sunlight was warm, but it would soon become oppressive, and the dense foliage was even less promising. The twisting branches and evergreen needles were foreboding, though Shinomori shook his head. “No hidden men in the shadows. Still, they could be deeper within.”

“Should we charge in, or do we think more traps are waiting for us?” Sagara cast a glance to Himura.

“No, we will wait here. Enishi could have made our journey much more difficult; just like this one, he wants to settle this once and for all. It is likely he sees us now. However, if he has not come down in fifteen minutes, we will enter by force.”

Takani had brought her Western timepiece and she angled the glass surface to the rest of them. Still, ten minutes had never passed so slowly. The naval ships had anchored, following Makimachi’s tactic of disarming the mines, albeit with their own marksmen. The distant detonations faded in the background, as Saito snapped his head up.

“Get ready.”

Emerging from the trees, a small group stepped into the daylight. Four bulky men, with near identical features, surrounded a thin man, whose half-lidded eyes swept over them in cruel anticipation. They were all dressed in Chinese clothes, and they halted simultaneously.

“Ah, those are the people who attacked us! They chased us as soon as we were out of Kyoto!” Makimachi hissed.

“The man in the middle wasn’t one of them.” Shinomori clarified. “And he doesn’t seem to be Yukishiro.”

Saito ventured. “It’s likely this is Yukishiro’s second, Woo Heishin. From our sources, he’s less of a fighter, more of a manager. If he’s here, either he was abandoned by Yukishiro or sensed defeat and came out to surrender.”

The speculation wasn’t delivered subtly, and Woo obviously heard, grinding his teeth. His Japanese carried a slight accent. “How rude, as well as incorrect. The leader has thrown our organization to the sharks, so you can consider me as his replacement. As such, I’ve come to clean up loose ends.”

“So, it’s out of spite. You may think you’re clever, but you’re acting like a child, begging for attention.” Saito goaded.

“I don’t have the time to waste on you! Battousai, stop hiding behind your lackeys!”

“They are not; they are my friends.” Himura evenly replied. “And this one can say the same to you. This one only intends to fight Enishi.”

“And if you wish to replace Yukishiro as leader, you’ll have to accurately assess your opponents’ strength.” Shinomori intoned. “Otherwise, there is no hope for the organization.”

“Fine. If you want to die here, so be it!” He shouted, and the other men sprung into action. Koshijiro placed himself in front of Himura, but there was no need. The quartet spun in a tight circle, backs to each other, and gave ugly grins to their opponents. Saito, Sagara, Shinomori, and Yahiko. Woo taunted. “My bodyguards have mastered weapons to rival the gods. One kill for each of them! Battousai, you can watch the slaughter, while you cower behind the women and cripple.”

Takani pressed her lips together. “And you cower behind your guards. It’s no wonder then, that you’re number two.”

“I think we can take him down, right, Megumi?” Makimachi slammed her knuckles into her palm. “To the Oniwabanshuu commander and a trained female doctor, he’d be like a paper doll. And for insulting you, Kamiya-san, a nice dummy for your one-handed moves.”

However, Koshijiro was only partly listening. His priority lay beyond this beach, and with the enemy’s arrival, he noticed the path they used. It was barely visible amidst the sand and gnarled roots, but small pebbles were carefully spaced, delineating the borders. Around that tree, up the slope. He took three steps left, to gain better perspective. And there, hidden by the climbing branches, was a pointed roof of stone tiles. He frowned.

If that’s their base, they didn’t take the shortest distance. However, if Yukishiro has been here for some time, he had to create a faster route, in case of an urgent matter. Then, the exit point would have to be…

An opening, wide enough for a single person, stood out. Once Koshijiro noticed, he could not unsee it. But what if it was a trick or there was more danger awaiting? He vaguely registered the others discussing the weapons, how the four men had realized the capabilities of their allies. At Yahiko’s name, he turned his head. “Yahiko may not have fought against a staff user, but he’s proven that he can hold his own.” And if something happened, he would join.

As for the other three, he had faith in them, though they certainly didn’t need it. Saito’s opponent seemed to rely more on his own perception than the longsword in his grasp, and while he was able to inflict a gash upon the assistant chief, the latter’s ferocity assured victory. Truly, his belief in his own way of justice was his strength. Shinomori’s was an interesting challenge, copying the dual sword attacks. Nevertheless, imitations could never withstand centuries of Oniwaban tradition, and Shinomori’s unexpected use of close combat maneuvers sealed the mimic’s loss. Meanwhile, punches were dealt back and forth between Sagara and the third guard, blood splattering onto the sand. But the final blow was Sagara’s, with both hands, left over right. A new modification, which worked perfectly. And Woo was nervously fidgeting.

Yahiko was the last one remaining, although it was apparent why. The staff wasn’t its true form, as it separated into six links. It whipped towards Yahiko, striking him in the stomach and forcing him to stagger back. He was trying Hadome but it would not work…in its usual approach.

“Yahiko, remember: the intention of the succession technique!” Koshijiro exclaimed.

“…yeah! And don’t worry, that was my last mistake. For Kamiya Kasshin, and Kaoru, I’ll win!” He straightened and adjusted his stance. Neutral, just as Kaoru had in the Maekawa dojo in what felt like a lifetime ago. And he waited for the right moment. The hilt rose to meet the end joint, locking the weapon in place as a staff. It took immense effort, his arms trembling, but Yahiko was hanging on. He had caught the mace.

“That hint was excellent, Kamiya-dono.” Himura remarked. “Yahiko realized that he had to hold the mace’s tip in place. Now, his enemy can neither attack nor withdraw, without becoming vulnerable. Understanding the purpose of the succession technique was key…and he learned from you, who demonstrated Hizadome to us.”

“Yes. I’m glad.” He exhaled. He watched with pride as the boy advanced, snapping the wooden links with force.

With the four guards incapacitated, Woo spun around, attempting to run for the safety of the trees. However, he was stopped by a fist emerging from the shade. Yukishiro Enishi had reappeared, a displeased look on his face. But…there was another silhouette, at the point of the hidden route.

Blood pulsed in Koshijiro’s ears. His daughter was frowning, slipping off her geta. Had she snuck away from Yukishiro? He hadn’t noticed, focused on beating his former partner into submission. Koshijiro seized his opportunity. He tossed one shinai into the woods, the thud timed with Woo’s body crumpling. He didn’t dare look to confirm, he could only desperately hope she retrieved her weapon. Most of the others were turned away, demanding Kaoru’s return. Himura was unaffected by his brother-in-law’s irate mood, and his gaze fixed upon Koshijiro. He stared a moment too long, through Koshijiro and swiftly aside. He dipped his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then, he walked forward.

“Enishi. Let this be over. If you still wish to fight this one, we may continue.”

But he didn’t touch the bait. “Not yet. First, someone has to witness your final breath.” And he whipped around.

Kaoru was closer, acting as if she was lagging behind and became tangled in the underbrush. Neither the shinai nor her shoeless feet were visible. “It’s because you walk too fast! And now, I’m stuck-”

“Forget it. Stay there; if you take one step past the treeline, I’ll kill you.” Yukishiro threatened.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she bent at the waist. However, she relaxed when Himura spoke up.

“It’s alright, Kaoru-dono.” He smiled reassuringly. “Please, wait for this one. It is this one’s battle to finish, and it will be over soon.”

“…okay. I believe in you.” A breeze caressed her hair, and her lips trembled. Her hands wrapped around herself, as if to hold back from running over. “Everyone…don’t worry about me!”

Koshijiro definitely couldn’t promise that much. It was agony, burning under the hot sun with her presence only a few strides away. Instead, he had to watch Himura silently draw the sakabato. Yukishiro unsheathed his tachi, the golden tassels falling. And the memory of that hellish night surfaced in his mind. After he headbutted Yukishiro, the man never attacked him again; his injuries had only been from Gein’s shadow weapons. Why? Yukishiro was physically robust, and a young man like him could have recovered easily…

While the four guards stumbled to the unconscious Woo and Takani summoned their friends for triage, Koshijiro turned to Himura. “Yukishiro’s senses.” He voiced the thought aloud. “Somehow, when I struck his head with mine in the dojo, it was a serious blow. Perhaps, he didn’t attack afterwards because he wasn’t confident in his perception. That is all I have to offer, unfortunately.”

“It is more than enough, Kamiya-dono. Thank you.” Himura regarded Yukishiro, silently assessing. Then, with a steady breath, he continued on.

The rhythmic crash of waves was uncomfortably loud, as the men faced each other. Then, Yukishiro dove into a crouch, launching into a recognizable attack. Himura dodged, the tachi slicing into the tree behind, and he leapt, firing off the rapid nine strikes. Metal collided against metal; they both flew back, the sand whirling. Both had used their signature moves at the start, and yet, it was another draw.

“Doesn’t Enishi look faster than before?” Takani whispered.

“He really wants to kill Kenshin now. That has to be the difference.” Sagara replied in kind. “But Kenshin’s willpower is stronger too.”

At this, Koshijiro glanced at his daughter. She was worriedly staring at Himura, obviously wondering if he had found his answer. Yes, he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. Yukishiro had already risen to his feet, as had Himura.

The white-haired man sneered. “Your speed is slightly greater than mine, and my strength is slightly greater than yours. Our skills are equal, but let’s see how you do with height.”

And then, they were airborne. Himura was markedly higher, yet Yukishiro made a surprising double jump. The tachi cut Himura’s shoulder, blood scattering as he landed first. That placed him in perfect position for an upward attack, which struck true to Yukishiro’s midsection. However, he wasn’t fazed, and in the next instant, they were rushing each other on the sand. The sakabato thrust forward, but Yukishiro’s arm flew, and Himura was knocked against a tree.

“Are you giving up already? Get up!” Yukishiro roared.

“…This one does not need you to say that. This one understands the answer to atone for everything, so there will be no surrender.”

“No, accept your punishment!” His sword swung heavily, and Himura avoided a critical blow, rolling out of the way. “Murder can only be repaid with death! You know deep down, that there are two options. Be slowly killed by me, or as a good samurai does immediately, kill yourself.”

The words were brimming with malice, the darkest desire of Yukishiro’s warped soul. And yet, Himura staggered to his feet.

“Still, you’re not giving up. Are you that afraid of dying?!”

“No, death does not frighten this one. But you are wrong, Enishi.” Himura’s expression was somber. “From the pit of despair, this one had to think about many things. Life, death, crime, punishment…and as this one was guided through reflection, there is a single truth that has been demonstrated, again and again. To protect everyone in this one’s path, to help those who are suffering…to see smiling faces. Yes, it is why this one became a hitokiri, and the weight of the victims’ deaths is this one’s sin to bear. But this one will never cease to bring happiness, to absolutely fight for a better world.” He lifted his sakabato, and despite his injuries, he possessed the aura of a dragon. “With ‘sword’ and ‘heart’, this one will persevere! That is this one’s reason, the vow to live on!”

A genuine and valiant answer, that could only have been stated by Himura. Koshijiro couldn’t suppress a smile. Nearby, Takani wiped her eyes, and Saito gave a grunt of approval.

“Just like Kenshin.” Sagara drawled, while Shinomori muttered.

“In some ways, it may be harsher than death.” That earned a good-natured protest from Makimachi.

“But he can do it!”

“Definitely!” Yahiko agreed, jumping from one foot to the other.

And Kaoru was gazing at Himura with the same light in her eyes, as she did at his bedside in Kyoto. Deep, unwavering love.

The moment was shattered by Yukishiro. “Do you think that will make my sister forgive you?”

“This one is not sure, but while thinking of the words, she finally smiled in return. Enishi…is she smiling for you now?”

He was taken aback at the question. It was fleeting, almost obscured by the glasses, but for a fraction, the man was gone and an apprehensive boy lurched. Then, Yukishiro snapped. His teeth ground together, his voice building to a scream. “Die, die, die! I’ll slam you down into hell!” The cords of his body drew taut, the veins bulging…but they didn’t appear normal, strangely colorless. And he seemed to be much faster, as he veered around Himura, blade aimed for the throat. Himura was forced to parry with the hilt, sweat beading on his scarred cheek.

“Those have to be nerves.” Takani slowly said, eyes wide. “I can’t think of another explanation.”

“But how can they be so huge?” Sagara was in disbelief.

Yahiko wondered. “Was he training to the limit, to increase his reaction time?”

Saito spoke around his cigarette, the smoke enveloping his features. “That wouldn’t be an easy task, and not to the extent they could become that prominent.”

“A biological abnormality, perhaps.” Shinomori suggested. “Something he was born with.”

The discussion didn’t escape Yukishiro. “Not at all. This was given to me by my beloved sister. Every day without her, my mind remained active, fueling my nerves. My frenzied nerves! After fifteen years-ugh!” He was abruptly cut off…by Himura lightly bumping his head against Yukishiro’s chin.

He fell for the same move twice! Koshijiro tried very hard not to laugh. And…good for Himura-san.

Himura was able to break free, disengaging, and Yukishiro was angrier than ever. He took off into a high jump, intent on forcing Himura in another midair battle. However, he didn’t, instead sprinting and drawing the sakabato in an unusually narrow arc. His forearm was lightly grazed, as Yukishiro was inevitably pulled by gravity, and he sheathed the reverse blade forcefully.

“Ouch!” Makimachi winced. “Sorry, that was a super high-pitched noise.” Shinomori also frowned, tilting his head.

And it affected Yukishiro, who remained curled on the crimson-tinted beach. Blood trickled out of his ear, and he was struggling to regain his bearings. “What…what did you do?”

“When the hilt contacts the sheath, it produces a sonic howl to stun the eardrum.” Himura replied. “In your case, it affected you much more, traveling through your sensitive nerves.”

Koshijiro quickly understood. “The sheathing was to target Yukishiro’s equilibrium.”

“Exactly!” Takani murmured. “That sound would have reached his inner ear, and he’s highly vulnerable to any kind of stimulus.” It was why a mild tap was an excellent distraction and a headbutt was incapacitating.

“He sacrificed defensive protection.” Sagara folded his arms. “So, Kenshin has a strong chance of defeating him with Hiten Mitsurugi.”

The balance was now in Himura’s favor, and he gently said. “You can barely stand, Enishi.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Suddenly, his fist smashed his ear. He writhed in severe pain, his entire body convulsing as he brought the tachi down. In a miss. He was losing control. “So what? I don’t need balance or hearing to kill you! I don’t need anything, other than the power to kill you! You already took the only thing I ever wanted to protect!” It happened again, except the boy wasn’t apprehensive. He was lost, and completely alone. The wailing of the seagulls eerily drifted overhead, as the group collectively stared at him.

Himura closed his eyes in acknowledgement, then opened them again. “Yes, that is true. It cannot be undone. So, this one will face you head on.” He didn’t touch Yukishiro, patiently waiting for him to get up.

This time, the atmosphere was of finality. Half of Yukishiro’s face was smeared with blood, which he ignored as he asked. “You said my sister smiled at you. What about now?”

“No, that was the last time. This one no longer sees her.” He relayed this without sadness or frustration, despite Yukishiro’s blatant surprise. “Not even her shadow or her voice remain, but that is alright. For this one’s friends, and the most important person, this one can take a firm step forward.”

Yukishiro’s grip tightened on his weapon. “You’re lying. She’ll smile when you’re dead. Let’s go!”

And Himura stepped with his left foot. He soared, accelerating at a speed they’d never witnessed before. Koshijiro caught his expression, free of doubt and singularly focused on what was ahead. A flawless execution of Hiten Mitsurugi’s succession technique. In Himura’s proximity, Yukishiro was unable to resist the amount of force left in his wake, and his center was shifted. His eyes were bulging in anguish. Then, the blow was delivered. The tachi snapped, golden tassels flying, and Yukishiro’s arm crunched, bending at an unnatural angle. Slivered cracks crept into the lenses of his glasses.

Himura landed, standing upright with the remaining energy he had. He managed to speak between heavy breaths. “Not…yet…”

Indeed, Yukishiro hadn’t fallen yet. The loss of his weapon didn’t dissuade him. He clutched his broken arm, seething. “Battousai!”

And then, a shot fired. Immediately, they all ducked. Woo was awake, and twin pistols were in his quivering hands. Himura stumbled, his sleeve darkening. It didn’t appear he was hit in a vital spot, but there was no cover on the open beach. Woo aimed squarely at him, finger on the trigger.

“No!” Kaoru’s voice rang out, as she darted to the man. Then, her arms lifted-

Crack!

Woo stumbled backwards, stunned. Kaoru struck again, her shinai colliding with his head. Neither of them was at full strength, but she had the advantage of surprise. Her next attack was to disarm him, and his pistol fell out of his grip. Her third attack, a thrust to his solar plexus, caused him to crumple onto the sand. A warm wind blew through as she retreated towards Himura, glancing back at the rest of them.

“Is everyone okay?”

Someone shouted, perhaps multiple voices. Woo was scrambling up again, but Kaoru only took a few steps towards him, before he was bowled over. White hair glinted in the sunlight, as Yukishiro thrashed his own second in command. Woo’s features became a gory mess, and a sickly feeling rose in Koshijiro, mixed with the memories of dead men.

A hand blocked Yukishiro’s fist, his jaw slackening. Himura gasped for air, though he would not budge. “You will kill this man, Enishi. No more. Whoever it may be, as long as they are within this one’s sight, no one will die! And if you continue, you will lose Tomoe’s smile forever.” His words finally reached Yukishiro, and the man relented, expression blank. Himura walked past him, a sentence that was nearly lost in the sound of the tide. “Thank you for protecting Kaoru-dono.”

Then, Yukishiro dropped to his knees. “No…! The one I wanted to protect was…the one I really wanted…” The boy was weeping, fifteen years’ worth of sorrow. “Curse you. Curse you!”

By now, Hayashi and his sailors had arrived in their rowboats. The lackeys were rounded up, hands and legs manacled. As for Yukishiro himself, he was surrounded by a cluster of uniforms, doubly secured. A sad and pitiful man, but a criminal who needed to pay for what he’d done.

And Koshijiro breathed. He turned to see Himura smiling, tripping on his own toes. Kaoru was there to catch him, and for a few seconds, they held each other. It was very low, but Himura was saying something? Kaoru drew back a little, startled yet not upset. His hands remained on her waist.

…That amount of time was acceptable. Koshijiro had to clear his throat. “Kaoru.”

“…Otou-san!” She cried and threw her arms around him. He held on tight, throat burning as his chin rested on the top of her head. Her scent was unfamiliar and she felt thinner, but she was alive.

“Are you alright, Kaoru?”

“I’m fine.” Her reply was choked. “A little hungry, but I’m so happy to see you. Otou-san?” She looked at him and tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed. “You’re crying?”

He had been maintaining a steady veneer of composure, ever since they discovered the body was a fake. Now, that mask had crumbled and he couldn’t suppress himself any longer. His blurry vision obscured everything, and he covered his face with his hand. A deep sob escaped through his clenched teeth.

Kaoru rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay. Otou-san, it’s okay.”

“Kaooruuu!” Yahiko’s voice grew louder in intensity as he approached and he tackled them, wailing. “We’re here! We made it!” And then, he dissolved into crying too.

Himura returned, clasping the back of Yahiko’s head as the boy drew him in. “Thank you.”

Then, Makimachi wriggled her way through, declaring. “See? We won! Oh, I’m so happy…” Shinomori was right behind her, with a flicker of a smile.

“We’re such wrecks.” Takani hiccupped, as she entered the hug too.

A heavy palm patted between Koshijiro’s shoulder blades. “Come on, old man. We gotta be tough.” But Sagara was sniffling, and the aroma of tobacco smoke wasn’t far.

Finally, Koshijiro mustered the energy to regain his voice. Blinking the blurriness away, he said to his daughter. “Let’s get you home.”

It was a daze, transporting off the island. Kaoru was tucked between Koshijiro and Himura, and remained so, all the way to the main ship. A resounding cheer went up as she boarded, the mission accomplished. Takani was adamant on using a room below deck, to assess their injuries.

“Really, I’m okay.” Kaoru insisted once they filed into the cramped room. “I cooked for myself using their limited supplies, and that’s nothing new.”

Takani scrutinized her. “What are those marks on your neck?” Small, red-violet bruises encircled her throat. They were about the same size as a person’s fingertips.

Her hand reached up to them, her face suddenly stricken. “Oh. Um, while I was in the mansion, I thought I could take Enishi hostage and try to escape. But he grabbed me and tried to strangle me. He didn’t though, he can’t kill any woman around my age because of Tomoe-san’s memory. Other than that, he didn’t touch me.” She hastily added.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive! I was mostly confined to a little room, I had to figure out the different paths to the beach. I still think I could’ve taken the weekly supply ship if I made it out, but you all beat its arrival. Enishi claimed there wasn’t a ransom; still, I don’t know why else he would’ve kidnapped me.”

Yahiko blurted the truth. “We thought you were dead.”

“Dead?” Kaoru repeated, and her confusion was apparent as she looked at their faces. “But…why would you think that? I’m here.”

“There was a body.” Takani answered. “A girl, similar in age, who was made to resemble you. With a…” Her voice broke as she recovered. “With a katana through the heart and a bloody cross on one cheek.”

Kaoru recoiled. “You…you all saw? You must have…oh. And then…” She trailed off, at a loss for words. Long minutes passed. “Did she die because of me?”

“We don’t know that.” Koshijiro interjected. “And it’s not your fault. None of it is. The only ones to blame are those vile men.”

“They made you think I was dead.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. She turned to Himura, taking his hand. “Kenshin, you thought…”

“Yes. This one was unable to protect you and despaired. Kamiya-dono guided this one, through the memories we’ve made in Tokyo and Kyoto and back.” He smiled at Koshijiro.

Awkwardly, he said. “It felt like a purifying rite, but I’m glad it led you to your reasoning and to your victory.” Then, he knelt and pressed his forehead to the creaking boards. “Thank you, Himura-san. I can’t thank you enough for saving my daughter.”

“Please, Kamiya-dono, you don’t have to perform that bow!”

“Thank you, Yahiko, Sagara-san, and Takani-san. Thank you, Makimachi-san, Shinomori-san, and Assistant Chief Inspector.”

Kaoru spoke up, her voice suddenly close. “Everyone, thank you for rescuing me. I’ll never forget how hard you worked.” And she expressed the same depth of gratitude, joining Koshijiro.

Immediately, he lifted his head. “No, Kaoru, get off the floor.”

“You did first, so I will once you’re done!”

“…You’re being stubborn.”

“Geez, I wonder where I get it from!” And then, the whole room was laughing. Their wounds were tended to, covered in salve and bandages; rations and canteens were passed around. The three Naval ships cut across the blue ocean, sparkling under billowing white clouds. They were headed home. At long last, the nightmare had ended.

#rurouni kenshin #kenkao #at arm's length #posting before i go on vacation :D

10 notes · View notes

tact-and-impulse · 2 years

Text

At Arm’s Length Chapter 21

The screams were acknowledged, though I just started work and survived my mandated 2 weeks of consecutive night shifts. But at last, the foreshadowing from Chapter 4 comes into play! Already updated on FF.net and AO3

Only a Nightmare

Even though he had both of his arms, one was enough to cradle his baby daughter. Bright eyes stared up at his face, as he walked back and forth. It was a typical occurrence, when she cried in the middle of the night. But unlike the other times, he did not want her to sleep. He rarely saw her awake during the day.

Kaoru smiled, oblivious.

A flash of lightning, and it became a sunlit morning. Kaoru was pulling herself to her feet, not quite accustomed to doing so yet and using the table for support. She beamed as she recognized him. “Otou!”

Ah, he remembered this. “Yes, Otou is here.” His throat ached, it was the first time she’d ever called him her father. “Otou is here. Good job, Kaoru.”

Her knees buckled under her, and she fell with a sound of surprise. Her plush arms reached upwards, wanting to be held. He obliged, her little face brushing his own in a butterfly-light touch.

“Otou.” She happily repeated. “Otou, Otou!”

“Yes. It’s alright, Kaoru. You’re safe.” Safe and healthy and without worry. He kissed her forehead, and she smelled sweet.

Then, she was a young girl, her ribbon almost larger than her ponytail. She swung her shinai, performing a kata in the dojo. She finished and twirled in place, before running up to him. “I did it!”

“Yes, you did. Excellent, Kaoru.” He patted her head, and her expression broke into a happy grin, her little fingers tightening on the shinai. Pride and joy surged within him. She was growing up fast, she’d be ready to teach before he knew it. He had to add her name to the row of placards, and his vision moved to the other end, where the school’s name was displayed.

Why did he turn away?

When he looked back, he saw her blood-soaked body against the wall, her face vacant. She did not move, no matter how many times he called her name. That was how he woke, not with a scream or a jolt, but slowly, agonizingly, with tears running down his face. His daughter was dead.

Oh, gods. He retched, and only sour water came up, burning his throat. It should have been him, he’d give anything to switch places with Kaoru.

His hand rose to the bandaged side of his head, where the second dagger had grazed. And his left shoulder throbbed with fresh pain, now that he opened his eyes. Staying in his futon was tempting, but he had to check on the others. All he was aware of was that Saito had left at midnight, taking Kujiranami into formal custody. By now, the station had to know what happened.

Somehow, he managed to stumble into the hallway. Morning had never been so quiet in this house. Each step was heavy, and he didn’t hear any others. He halted at the sight of the table. There were still six cushions. He tore his gaze away, only to fix upon the altar. His mother’s portrait, and Kyoko’s somber expression. The fragrant incense.

I have to make room-

Nausea swept over him again and he barely made it outside before retching again. He spat up clear liquid, his stomach tightening. Then, he collapsed, holding onto the porch’s edge.

Kaoru was gone. All that remained was emptiness. What could possibly be done, now that the worst had happened? In this repressive heat, the funeral would have to be today. Another plot, besides Kyoko’s. And how could he possibly face her gravestone? He’d broken the final promise he swore to her, when she was dying in the hospital. He failed to protect their little girl.

There was no page Kyoko had written, for the possibility that he’d outlive Kaoru.

“Kamiya-san!” Takani’s voice was hoarse, and with some struggle, he spotted her hurrying in his direction. “I was about to check on you. How’s your head?”

“I would rather have lost it.” He bitterly answered.

She closed her eyes. “I know. I know, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. All I can tell you is that your wounds are clean, but that doesn’t matter right now.” She paused, bringing her trembling fingers to her lips. A choked whimper escaped her, a remnant from a recent bout of sobbing. “I’ll give you something to help you sleep-”

“Let me see my daughter.”

“…Yes. Yes, of course.” She led him to the smallest room in the house, that had been primarily used for storage. “I’ll be out here, if you need me.” Carefully, the door closed, leaving Koshijiro alone with the body.

The air was stifling. He stepped closer, ignoring the fresh tears blurring his vision.

From the door, she looked asleep, as if he could call out to her and she would turn over, grumbling for five more minutes. But she never slept with the blanket only up to her waist, and he couldn’t hear her breathe at all. Someone, most likely Takani, had let her hair down. She had already been prepared for burial, dressed in a white kimono that was wrapped right over left. A bandage had been placed on her cheek, to hide the cuts that mirrored a particular cross-shaped scar.

When he stopped at her side, he blinked and frowned. He vigorously wiped his eyes, but…something nagged him. He couldn’t quite place it. He was unsettled by his daughter’s frozen visage, yet there was more to it. Was it rigor mortis that slightly distorted her face? That didn’t make sense. Still, his gut was insisting something was off.

He touched her forehead, then her eyes to ensure they were closed. Carefully, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and like everywhere else, the cool skin was perfectly smooth. And that was completely wrong.

This isn’t Kaoru.

The realization struck him, and with great effort, he looked closer at the body. His hand encircled her upper arm; years of kenjutsu should have given it definition and while the flesh was full, it felt strange under his grip. Not quite like muscle built over years of hard work. His fingers found the base of her ponytail next, moving the hair aside to find the natural part. That had to be a unique way to identify a person, right? He couldn’t manage it on his own, he would have to ask one of the others. But he was becoming surer and surer, that this body was a completely different person.

Then, where was his daughter?

That opened an entirely new line of thought, and it was not pleasant. He pushed it aside, heart in his throat, as he exited. Takani was blowing her nose into a handkerchief, and her red eyes met him. “Are you fin-”

“Please, wake up Yahiko.” He needed everyone right now, he wasn’t sure they were being watched.

Takani swallowed. “Alright. To say goodbye?”

“…Yes.” And this will be the first time I will lie regarding this matter.

She dropped her head, overcome by a wave of tears as she walked on. He made for the kitchen, where Sagara was loudly using his breakfast utensils. When Koshijiro entered, it was clear that despite the noise, not much of anything had been eaten. “Sagara-san, I want all of us together one last time. Can you help me find Himura-san?”

He was disintegrating a piece of tofu with his chopsticks, and his jaw clenched. “Yeah, sure. I think he’s in his room. Megumi brought him some tea, like an hour ago.” He pushed the bowl aside, grimacing.

They approached Himura’s bedroom, and Koshijiro knocked. “Himura-san?” No answer. He knocked again and pressed his ear to the door. No sounds of stirring either.

“Look, I’ll just go in.” Sagara sighed, slid the door open, and marched past the threshold. “Kenshin? Kenshin?” The futon was mussed, the tea left standing. Sagara searched the closet, growing pale and wide-eyed. “He’s not here!”

Oh, no. He ordered. “Check the rest of the house, I’ll look outside.”

“You got it. Kenshin, you bastard…”

A quick scan of the foyer. Nothing. He opened the door, the noise inaudible amidst the racket Sagara was causing. To his relief, Himura was slowly walking towards the gate, in a daze. He had not tied his hair, the bright red spilling down his back.

“Himura-san?”

The man slowly turned. He looked wrecked. His expression was slack and his gaze empty. He hadn’t changed clothes since the battle, and blood stained the front of his gi, spotting along the sleeves. His figure was frail, like the wind could sweep him away at any moment. Chains locked the sakabato in its sheath.

He was trying to disappear.

Koshijiro broke into a run, shouting. “Sagara-san, come help!” And Himura must have been too exhausted to escape, because in the next instant, Koshijiro brought them both to the ground. He rolled, taking most of the impact to shield Himura, and pain rocketed up the left half of his body. His shoulder was excruciating. But Himura wasn’t going anywhere.

“Himura-san,” He fought to catch his breath. “I apologize if I hurt you, but we will not let you go.”

There was no reaction, not even a sign of discomfort. Koshijiro kept hold of him, as the house stirred in commotion. Takani and Yahiko had definitely heard his shout.

Then, Sagara arrived, pulling Himura up and roaring. “You idiot! How could you? How could you try and leave us?”

Like a cloth doll, Himura shook with the motions.

“Don’t hurt him!” Yahiko shakily protested. Then, he noticed the chains and looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “…Kenshin?”

Takani briskly separated Sagara and Himura. “Just stop! We’re all devastated, this isn’t the time to fight. And Kamiya-san might have reopened his shoulder wound. Ken-san, what were you doing?”

And at that moment, there was a flash of color at the ruined wall. They huddled in a protective circle around Himura, but there was no need. Dark circles were under Makimachi’s eyes and her braid was half undone, yet she summoned the energy to sprint the final stretch. And behind her, Shinomori followed, his kodachi drawn.

“We’re so sorry!” Makimachi gasped, nearly tripping over her own feet. A cloth sack was slung across her back, and she took it off, reaching inside. “Aoshi-sama and I haven’t slept for a minute at all, but we’re here! We have the book that Kaoru asked for!”

No one spoke, the irony too scathing. Shinomori stepped forward with a grimace. “We’ve been fending off constant ambushes since leaving the Aoiya, but we believed you could hold your own. What happened?”

“Where’s Kaoru?” Makimachi’s hold on the book tightened. A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “She couldn’t have slept in, right?”

Takani surrendered, covering her face with her hands as she attempted to speak. “We tried but…it’s too late.”

“Everyone,” Koshijiro had to take charge. He was aware now that time was of the essence; his daughter had to be alive and she was still in the clutches of those dangerous men. Each minute, they were getting further away. “We need to go inside. To that room.”

“Not Kenshin too!” Sagara objected and Takani agreed.

“Kamiya-san, he’s fragile. Please don’t make him.”

“I will if I have to!” His voice was sharp with agitation. “Kaoru…” He trailed off, unsure of how safe it was to reveal this. Were they being watched?

“Hurting Kenshin won’t bring her back.” Yahiko spoke up, and the unevenness in his words was painful to hear.

Koshijiro slumped. “All of you, please. I won’t ask any more of you, I promise.”

For a long minute, it was utterly stagnant. Then, Shinomori nudged a pale Makimachi, and silently, the group returned to the place where the corpse rested. Makimachi swayed on her feet, and Yahiko fixed his gaze on a different corner, but they were all together. Once the door closed, Koshijiro exhaled.

“I’m sorry.”

“Now, you’re sorry?” Takani shook her head, incredulous. “Sanosuke, take Ken-san-”

“This isn’t Kaoru.”

Shocked silence filled the room. Sagara glared at him. “Old man, what the hell are you talking about?”

He took a moment to swallow and repeated. “This isn’t Kaoru. Kaoru should have a raised scar behind her ear, and it isn’t there. Here, look.” He bent back the cartilage, to confirm the lack of stitching from long ago. Takani peered closer.

“I don’t see anything, but it could have faded.”

“It wouldn’t have. She even said she could still feel it yesterday.” Yesterday, before the nightmare of ‘heaven’s judgment’. But perhaps…perhaps it was only a nightmare.

“I don’t understand.” Her eyes roamed over the body again, this time searching with greater intensity. “I know Kaoru, I know what she looks like. I was so sure…” She trailed off, before looking squarely at Koshijiro. “But you’re her father. You would know.”

“I had a feeling something was wrong. I wanted to check how her hair parts, I thought that would be a more decisive way to identify her.”

“But whoever did this,” Sagara bit out. “They could have found out. It’s not that hard since Jou-chan’s short, and maybe, they had a high vantage point to spy on us.”

Some life had returned to Yahiko, and he scratched his head in thought. “How long have they been spying on us? Probably weeks…”

“Aoshi-sama, what are you thinking about?” Makimachi’s voice wavered. “You look like you know something.”

“I’m not sure.” His expression was grave. “Not yet. First, who came to the dojo last night?”

The story was relayed in pieces, as they tried to converge their perspectives of Jinchuu. The only one who didn’t speak was Himura. He blankly stared at the floor, hands limp at his sides. Makimachi fidgeted and bit her lip repeatedly, full of questions but wanting to wait. Shinomori only interjected for a few clarifications and at the end, he nodded at the body.

“It does look like Kamiya Kaoru, to the smallest details. Except for one.”

“It’s a humiliating memory. But I can assure you, I haven’t shared it with anyone until now.” And Koshijiro leaned against the wall, summoning forth the bittersweet past.

***

He had wanted to distract Kaoru, in the wake of Kyoko’s death. Remembering how his father took him to the river after his mother’s departure, he thought it wasn’t a terrible idea. For good measure, he bought two fishing rods. He hadn’t fished at all since he was Kaoru’s age, and she never had, but…maybe, this was an opportunity for them to try together.

They headed to the river, just as the sun was clearing the horizon. The thick clouds above were pale gray, lightening with every minute. Instinctively, his daughter’s hand slipped into his. She yawned, shaking her head. It was earlier than their usual waking time, but in this subdued morning, the fish wouldn’t be scared away.

The water was gently lapping at the banks, the ground spongy under their feet. Koshijiro stopped at an open area, where it was comfortable to sit while they waited. He readied the larger of the two fishing rods and threw the line. A splash followed, sending ripples upon the surface. Was it really that simple? “I suppose that’s it. It’s been a long time since your grandfather and I went fishing.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“I don’t remember what kinds, because I fell asleep. But your grandfather caught three.”

“Maybe, we’ll have three more today.” Kaoru gave a little smile that quickly faltered. That number could no longer describe their household.

He swallowed the rising grief, passing the other fishing rod to her. “Can you copy what I did?”

“Yeah, I can do it. It’s easy.” Her arms came down in a forceful swing, the line gleaming. And crimson blurred through the air. The hook was darkly wet, as it landed in the grass. Kaoru blinked, and when she turned her head, blood trickled down her neck.

Horror struck Koshijiro, and he tore the fishing rod out of her grip. “Kaoru!” He took out his handkerchief and pressed it to her skin, but blood continued to slide over his fingers. He examined higher, lifting her hair, and found the laceration behind her ear. It was lucky that the cartilage wasn’t cut, but with the gushing blood, he couldn’t tell how deep the wound was. He pressed the cloth over it, his own heartbeat pounding.

Her bottom lip quivered. “Otou-san?”

“We’re going home.”

And then, she began to cry. “Sorry…I’m sorry, Otou-san.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who should apologize. Here, hold it tightly.” He made sure she was applying pressure before carrying her.

He ran for the house, and in no time at all, they were in the courtyard. He drew up water from the well, soaking a clean rag. Meanwhile, Kaoru was trying to rein in her sobs, curling up on the porch. She’d been hurt because he was careless. He cursed himself over and over, as he searched for bandages, the strongest sake, and the remnants of Kyoko’s medicines.

When he returned to Kaoru, the kerchief was stained brown. He gingerly pulled the fabric away, and immediately, crimson welled up. It had to be deep, if it was still bleeding. His heart sank. “Perhaps, we should go to the hospital-”

“No!” Kaoru fervently refused. She twisted away from him, her voice breaking in distress. “I don’t want to go there! Th-that’s where Okaa-san…Okaa-san!” The sentence ended in a wail, and he had to bite his own tongue.

Kyoko, what should I do? He despairingly thought. “Kaoru, let me clean it. I need to see how bad it is.”

The fight left her, but she shuddered as she laid on her side. He used the fresh rag, careful not to open the wound further, and had to pause twice to hold pressure. The bleeding slowed to an ooze, which was a relief. The wound was deeper towards the bottom, where the hook had initially entered, but no bone or broken vessels. However, the tissue was gaping, and he wasn’t confident it would heal properly.

Unless…

“Kaoru,” He slowly said. “I need to find a few more things. Wait a little longer.”

His hands shook during the search, only calming when he retrieved what he was looking for. Instructions from the past echoed in his mind. He doused everything in the sake first, to cleanse all of the items before they could touch his daughter’s skin. The dry cracks on his own hands stung too. The sun was beaming in earnest, drying the needle and black thread quickly. But the alcohol on the wound was the worst part. Kaoru placed her fist in her mouth, muffling her scream of pain. Koshijiro chanted apologies, promising it’d be over soon. The burn might have numbed her, because when he began, she didn’t flinch. Neither of them spoke. Perspiration beaded on his temples and hairline. And then, it was done.

Three tiny knots, evenly spaced as if they were sitting next to each other. He hoped that would be enough.

Exhausted from the ordeal, they spent the rest of the day at home. When he changed her bandage, he made sure the stitches were in place. A dark crust remained, but no bleeding. His mother might have approved. In the days after, he kept a close eye, telling Kaoru that it was looking better. At the end of the week, she complained that the thread itched and the knots were severed. She’d healed well, but there would always be a reminder.

“Otou-san, I don’t want to hear any more!” Kaoru finally snapped during the dressing change, after he tried to express his remorse again. “I’m all better now because of you, so I don’t care if there’s a scar. And it was an accident, Okaa-san wouldn’t be mad either.”

“I won’t feel at ease until it’s sealed over completely.”

She hugged him around the waist. “It’s fine, Otou-san. Geez. But, you know what? I’m happy you did three stitches. One for me, one for you, and one for Okaa-san. That’ll last longer than three fish.”

“…Yes, it will.”

The guilt dulled to a twinge whenever he checked behind her ear. And by the time the wound disappeared, leaving a raised pale line, he realized that he’d never purchased bait.

***

“Huh. That’s kind of a cute story.” Makimachi remarked. “So, this scar was only known to the two of you?”

“That’s right.”

“Then, it would have escaped Gein’s notice.” Shinomori lifted his head, his gaze glittering. “In our circles, Gein has a reputation as a puppet master. He’s frequently hired for his work with corpses. It would not be a stretch of the imagination, that Enishi hired him to disguise another body as Kaoru-san, to make you believe the worst. However, I must confirm it for myself.” He grasped the hilts of his kodachi, striding towards the still form.

Koshijiro caught on to his intention and rapidly ushered the others out of the room. None of them needed to witness the dissection. Takani gripped her forearms, her nails digging into her purple sleeves. “If Yukishiro Enishi disguised this body as hers, where could she be? How can we begin…”

“We’ll have to hunt them down and make them pay tenfold. Right, Kenshin?” Sagara glanced towards him. But Himura didn’t respond.

Makimachi flexed her hands, her bangs lowered over her eyes. “I hope Kaoru’s alive. I really hope so.”

Shinomori emerged within minutes, holding a bundle of unfamiliar rope. “This was in the body, or rather, the puppet. What should we do now?” He looked to Himura. Still no reaction from him.

The pause stretched and Koshijiro said at last. “No one else should know. As long as those men have Kaoru, her life is at risk. Until we can rescue her, everyone must believe the body is hers. Whoever this girl is, we will bury her. I don’t mind giving her a space in the family plot. However, she’ll be buried as Kamiya Kaoru. We can have a brief wake, but people can’t linger for too long. The funeral has to be today.”

“Today.” Takani echoed. “I’ll make sure she’s ready by noon.”

And then, there was the matter of funeral arrangements. Koshijiro took upon the dreaded task, trudging to the necessary people. The Buddhist priest, the cemetery workers, the coffin builders. He went to the Maekawa residence last and was greeted by the students, assisting with their teacher’s move. He hoped he looked weary as he pressed his forehead to the ground, in request for those able to carry his daughter to her final resting place. Instantaneously, chaos erupted. The students demanded details, and it was enough to wake Maekawa himself. He swore loudly, stumbling out of bed, and was utterly disheveled when he arrived at the door.

“Is this true? What do you mean, Kaoru is dead?” Behind him, Sachi hovered, stunned and mute.

“The attacks on the city…we were the next target. Kaoru is gone.” He had thought hard about what to say and decided that less was more.

Maekawa urged him to stay and talk, but Koshijiro refused. He had to return to the house; he was concerned about everyone, especially Himura. They could not take their eyes off him for a single moment. “The wake will be at the Kamiya dojo, starting at noon.” And he had to turn away, without looking back. The last thing he heard was a chorus of volunteering.

He had just turned the last corner for the dojo, and uttered a low curse. Tae and Tsubame were walking ahead, slowing as they saw the destruction. He broke into a run and was about to call out when Yahiko appeared, bracing his hands on what was left of the gate.

“Don’t come in!”

“Yahiko? What’s wrong?” Tae frowned, and then, she noticed Koshijiro. “Kamiya-san? You’re both injured. Is everyone else alright?”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak yet and only shook his head.

In apprehension, she drew a breath. “Kaoru?”

“Sekihara-san, she’s no longer with us.” The lie stung under his breastbone, more so than anticipated. This was going to be an incredibly long day.

A cry escaped her, hands lifting to her mouth. “What?!”

Tsubame’s face drained of color, and she desperately grasped Yahiko’s sleeve. “No…! Yahiko-kun, please, please tell us…”

He dropped his gaze and clenched his teeth. “Enishi got his revenge. That’s what. We failed.” In a way, he was right.

However, the girl collapsed in a dead faint. Yahiko reached for her, vigorously shaking her shoulder. “Hey, Tsubame! Oh, crap…”

Tae was openly weeping now, trying to support her. “I n-need to take her home. Or to the clinic? And Kaoru! No…”

“What’s going on?” Fortunately, Sagara appeared. “I’ll get the fox out here. Old man, can you watch Kenshin?” His expression was drawn taut; it was the most stressed he’d ever been.

“I can look after him.” After a moment’s hesitation, he told Tae. “The wake will be at noon, and we’re holding the funeral right after. Will we see you then?”

“Yes, of course. I…I’m so sorry. I can help out, let me know what to do-”

“If you can, please spread the word. That’s all we ask.” Once she nodded, he shuffled into the house with Sagara.

It was too quiet, as if the shadows of night remained. Even Sagara kept his voice down as he called the doctor to the front. Takani marched over, giving a cursory nod. “Our guests are keeping watch by the trees. Ken-san is in his room. He still hasn’t eaten. And now, Tsubame-chan…” She rubbed her eyes.

The pair left Koshijiro, and slowly, he proceeded towards Himura’s door. He knocked out of courtesy, opening anyway. His initial observation was that nothing had been cleaned at all since the frantic search. A tray of onigiri and tea was in one corner, perfectly untouched. Secondly, Himura was slumped against the wall, the chained sakabato in his arms. Takani and Sagara must have helped him change; his hair was loosely tied and he was sitting on blankets, though the pillow had fallen aside. The shadows were strongest here, an all-consuming heaviness that pulled at one’s very breath.

Koshijiro settled by the threshold, clearing his throat. “I realized where you were planning to go. It’s not the official name, but the station refers to the neighborhood as ‘Rakuninmura’. We’ve found informants there among the outcasts, and we know it as a place for those who’ve lost their way.”

Himura’s eyes moved sluggishly to him, and for the first time today, he seemed to acknowledge reality. He stared at Koshijiro. No words yet.

“But Rakuninmura is for people who have no one else. You have us, and we are worried about you.” Koshijiro couldn’t help wincing. He truly was inept at talking about emotions. “It wasn’t your fault. The ones to blame are Yukishiro Enishi and his followers. We’ll start investigating, searching for Kaoru.”

A pause, that extended to an uncomfortable awkwardness.

“In hindsight, the clues were there. The costume of human skin, Gein’s suspicious activities in the slums, the intense security around the Yokohama mansion. But we could not fathom that this was their plan. It was…unconscionable.” He trailed off.

Nothing was working. What could be done, to spur Himura into action? Sagara spoke of revenge, yet it didn’t motivate him at all. Even after the revelation that the body was a fake, why was he in the depths of despair? Koshijiro stared at Himura’s hands, clutching the hilt in a rigid paralysis, and how his knuckles jutted under dry skin.

First, he needs nourishment. Koshijiro stood and pulled the tray towards Himura. “You don’t have to talk. We can handle the funeral today and the investigation will follow afterwards. However, you must try to keep something down, even if you don’t have an appetite. That is what Kaoru taught me.”

Whether it was the plan or his daughter’s name, Koshijiro didn’t know. But as if it was scraped out of him, Himura exhaled a single question. “…why?”

Koshijiro frowned. What did he mean? “We can figure that out later, and only if you have the strength to think.” He grabbed the cup, raising it to Himura’s mouth. “I won’t force feed you, but in this heat, you need to drink.”

His arm was beginning to pinch with exertion, when the red bangs fell forward. Himura quietly sipped and Koshijiro forgot entirely about his own fatigue, until he was certain that the younger man had finished the tepid tea. With that accomplished, he ventured. “Are you hungry enough to try the onigiri?”

However, Himura tucked into himself, bringing the sakabato closer. Koshijiro was at a loss, other than to keep silent company and wait for the others to come home. After some minutes, he noticed that Himura’s breathing had slowed, into a state of deep sleep. Koshijiro found the nearest blanket on the floor, draping it over him before pressing his back to the wall.

Footsteps approached, and Makimachi peered in. “Hello? Just checking in. Any updates?”

Koshijiro nodded at the tray. “He drank all of his tea, but he isn’t eating yet.”

“That’s great though!” She looked curiously at Koshijiro. “What did you say to him?”

“I was mostly speaking to myself.”

She raised her eyebrows, but before she could question further, an unfamiliar voice called out. The coffin had arrived. Makimachi took over in Koshijiro’s stead, so he could request a few minutes in the room. Perfectly understandable, and he was granted a parent’s right to one final goodbye.

He knelt, clasping the dead girl’s cold hand before murmuring. “I don’t know who you were, but you must have had a family. Today, I’ll act in their place and properly send you off, so that you can pass on peacefully. Forgive us for the deception we’re about to carry out, and for the harm we’ve already done. May your soul find comfort, in that you will protect another. When this is over, you will have your own gravestone.” It was the last kindness she could receive, and the very least they could do.

When he emerged, everyone was together again. Yahiko looked to Koshijiro. “Tsubame will be alright, she’s going to rest before the…the wake. I’m Kaoru’s first student, so what do you need me to do?”

“Since she was your teacher, you’ll lead the procession with me.”

“Oh. Okay.” He hadn’t expected that and hesitated, but only for a moment. More firmly, he repeated. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“And we’ll watch from the sidelines!” Makimachi said. “Aoshi-sama and I are going to maintain surveillance the whole time, to see if Gein or anyone else shady appears. Like those four identical guys we escaped from on the road, or the Chinese laborers who were total distractions once we got to Tokyo or-”

“Misao and I will also protect the corpse, if we are called.” Shinomori intoned.

Of course, Himura was in no shape to attend, but he couldn’t stay in the house alone. Sagara volunteered to stay behind with him. “He’s not going to leave again.” The young man declared. “I’ll make sure of it. Besides, I’d be no good at the funeral. I’m too angry to be a mourner.”

“But I can play the part. I’ve cried plenty already.” Takani let out a hoarse sound, too bitter for a laugh. “So…it’s time.”

The Oniwabanshuu melted into the foliage, while Koshijiro led Yahiko and Takani to the temple. He had not been there since his departure for Satsuma, to pray for Kaoru’s safety in his absence. And now, the reality of failure caused his left shoulder to ache anew.

Oh. He almost tripped on the steps and outwardly blamed it on the flaring pain, but his mind was working incessantly, lit by a new flame.

***

The temple was quickly crowded. Koshijiro had to resort to a standard greeting for each person who passed through. Tae and Tsubame returned with the other girls from the Akabeko in tow, and they all wept profusely. Maekawa brought his wife and students, and word had spread to the other dojos, because Ishii barged in, squeezing Koshijiro into a comforting bear-like embrace. Many kenjutsu students expressed their grief, with blotchy faces and cracking voices. The neighborhood children, the townswomen who were permanent fixtures in the market, and even the carpenter came to pay respects. So many people, who loved Kaoru.

He really felt bad at hiding the truth.

“Kaoru-nee!” His heart sank at the familiar voices of Dr. Gensai’s granddaughters, and throat tight, he braced himself. Ayame and Suzume were screaming, wriggling out of their parents’ arms to rush to the coffin. The chrysanthemums in their hands were already wilting. “Kaoru-nee, wake up!”

He dragged his feet over, and somehow, he managed to ask. “Are those flowers for her?”

They only nodded, rubbing away tears as they offered the little bouquets. Yellow petals fluttered onto the stone tiles.

“Thank you. I’m sure she’ll love to have them with her.” And he meant it.

“I couldn’t believe what Takani-san told me.” Dr. Gensai was relying on his cane for support, looking as if he hadn’t slept at all. “It’s unimaginable…” His son and daughter-in-law murmured their condolences, glancing at their daughters in pained sympathy.

Then, Yahiko grabbed Koshijiro’s sleeve. “Saito’s here.”

A gap appeared in the mob of people, making way for the assistant chief. The stench of tobacco was thick, chokingly so when Saito approached. His gaze rested upon the corpse’s face for a second before landing on Koshijiro. “We’re interrogating the one we have. There’s nothing for you to do at the station. When we extract information, you’ll be made aware.”

“Mm.” In what he hoped was a natural gesture, he shook Saito’s hand, pressing a folded note to his palm. He had written the message earlier, that they knew the body was not Kaoru’s and they didn’t know who was watching. The transfer was only acknowledged with an intensified stare, and Saito shoved both hands in his pockets.

“My wife wants to stop by and assist.”

“Later, in the afternoon. We would appreciate it.”

“Battousai isn’t here?”

“He is still recovering.” At least, that was honest. “Please, don’t disturb him.”

“I don’t have the time. I’m returning to the station.” He pivoted, frowning. “Yukishiro Enishi will be dealt with immediately.”

And Koshijiro had to deal with the consolatory offerings. The chrysanthemums were just the beginning; more flowers adorned the sides of the coffin. Roses, jasmine, sunflowers. Others had brought confections or the last of the ripe summer fruits and vegetables, which he did his best to refuse. The cash was the worst, and he had to turn aside, feeling nauseated. Takani intervened with a firm tone. “Kaoru would not want money. She’d tell you to keep it for yourselves and live well.”

Chief Uramura was among the last to arrive, bringing his family. His daughter in particular was very pale and Koshijiro caught a muffled apology when she bowed to the coffin. The chief helplessly repeated. “If we’d arrested the culprit, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The gong resounded, to hush everyone. The temple priest bore a placid expression, as he stepped forward. The sermon echoed against the walls, asking for forgiveness of sin and reincarnation into a better life. Then, the coffin lid cast shadow over Kaoru’s likeness and was sealed shut. Someone young, perhaps Tsubame, sobbed.

Four young men lifted the box, and Koshijiro was first to follow them out of the temple. Yahiko strode beside him, and his role was to carry the plaque for a posthumous name, to prevent calling the deceased back. Well, such a name hadn’t stuck with Koshijiro and it certainly wouldn’t with Kaoru, but for this girl, they would call her Reijo until proven otherwise.

For the entire walk, a chorus of grief rose on the wind. Wailing, stricken laments, and lines of prayers became an indistinguishable tide of noise. This was the sound of mourning, for a cherished life cut too short. If she could witness how many tears were shed, she’d cry too.

When they arrived at the Kamiya family plot, the ground had already been dug in preparation. The coffin was gently lowered into the pit and Koshijiro remained stoic. Was the enemy seeing this? Were they aware of how much admiration and respect she’d earned? Did they enjoy the suffering they caused? He tossed an overflowing handful of earth onto the lid, and the shovels began to move. Gradually, the wooden box was completely obscured.

Kamiya Kaoru was buried.

***

They weren’t home again for another two hours; they had to be the last ones to leave the grave. Shinomori and Makimachi had taken point by the stone walls, affirming that they hadn’t noticed anyone out of place. And there was one more person waiting.

Saito had the courtesy to smoke outside the house. “You just missed Tokio, but she already made use of your kitchen.” He tapped the ash off his cigarette. “The police are dedicating all resources towards tracking Yukishiro Enishi.”

It was an obvious statement but Koshijiro understood. With regards to Kaoru, there would be no extra aid. “Is it the low manpower? If so, I can-”

“You should take your absence from work. An emotional father would only be a hindrance.”

“Hey!” Yahiko sharply protested. “We came back from the funeral, and Kamiya-san still offered anyway. And what are we? We can help.”

“No. I’ve already had to train one man, and even he couldn’t escape injury.”

Koshijiro could have kicked himself for forgetting. “Sawagejo-san was hurt?”

“I received the telegram this morning. The mansion’s entrance was rigged with explosives. The others had mild wounds, though he took the brunt of the blast. He’s awake, though he’ll remain in the hospital for another week. But he was successful. The basement was intact and we ransacked everything. Plenty of evidence like that costume and the tools used to make them. Their time must have run out, because our culprits didn’t clean up.”

How revolting. “So, you knew at the temple.”

Saito shrugged. “You’d figured it out as well.” Again, he was being obtuse. “Now that we’re on the same page, I can continue my work.”

“And your work doesn’t involve finding anyone other than Yukishiro?” Takani purposefully asked.

“My job is to slay evil.” He walked past Koshijiro and in a mutter, he added. “Yours is to protect life. Isn’t that right, creator of Kamiya Kasshin?”

“Yes, it is. Send Sawagejo-san my thanks and that I hope he recovers soon.”

Tokio’s cooking granted them a late lunch, and they ate hurriedly, without any conversation. Yahiko volunteered to watch Himura, which relieved Sagara. The latter made a great deal of noise as he left, brimming with pent-up energy. He didn’t relay where he was going.

Koshijiro took his tea on the porch, unable to taste it. He maintained a vigilant eye on the treeline for unnatural movement or sound. Then, someone settled at the other end, the floorboards creaking.

Shinomori had brought his own cup, and the steam curled under his face. Suddenly, he spoke first. “Gein has pride in his craft, in the way an artisan does.” At Koshijiro’s glance, he clarified. “There is no one nearby. As I was saying, Gein is obsessed with his corpses. This…Reijo, as you’ve named her, was nearly perfect. He wouldn’t want it to decompose.”

“Then, are you suggesting to watch over the grave?”

“Yes, and to lay a trap. If you are willing, I will inform Misao.”

“If it doesn’t damage the plots of my parents and wife, I have no issue.”

He nodded. “…Himura will not see the grave.”

“It is doubtful, considering how stressed he is. His current state is nothing like we’ve seen before.” Koshijiro quietly said.

“I’m surprised he didn’t revert to the persona of the Battousai. I thought he would, and after bringing Kaoru-san back, he would return to wandering.”

“Himura-san’s inner struggle is slightly different than what you are thinking. And I believe you were thinking of how you would have reacted.”

Shinomori actually cracked a smile. A small one, but still a smile. “Fair enough.”

“You seem to have recovered even more, since we last left you.”

“Have I?” He paused, reflecting. “Misao has been...persistent. That part of her hasn’t changed at all.”

With the tea finished, they went searching for her. She was in the main hallway, staring at the displayed paintings with a degree of curiosity. Hearing their footsteps, she tilted her head in their direction. “Hey, welcome back.”

Shinomori dropped to one knee, his head bowed. “Okashira.”

“Eh? What? Me?” Makimachi rapidly looked around, then pointed to herself. She blushed. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m requesting to lay a trap at the grave of Kamiya Kaoru. Most likely, Gein will retrieve the body after nightfall. If we catch him, we can obtain information and end his crimes forever.”

“Permission granted.” She didn’t hesitate. “As long as you do one more thing. Come back, or I’ll chase you down.”

“Understood.” As Shinomori stood again, Koshijiro thought he saw another slight smile on his face, but in the next instant, his expression was stoic once more.

It was good that Shinomori left before a wave of visitors arrived. Everyone meant well, bringing their condolences and more food than they could possibly eat for dinner. The gate was repaired in the shortest amount of time possible, thanks to the sheer number of helping hands. But the sky was a dark violet, the close of twilight, when the last person waved goodbye.

And Koshijiro caught the sound of footsteps in the dojo. Through the broken doors, he peered inside. It was scrubbed clean, he realized, free of blood. Yahiko halted mid-swing, then straightened to attention with the shinai futilely hidden behind his back. Perspiration glittered on his temples and cheeks.

“Kamiya-san! Um, I cleaned up in here.”

“I can see that. Thank you.” He removed his shoes and stepped inside. To his relief, it felt natural as always, not tainted by the attack. “Were you practicing?”

He slowly replied. “I have to.”

“Kaoru would be proud of you. You’ve come a long way from your first days with us, you’re immensely more diligent and responsible.”

“Well, in those days, I didn’t want to be a student of Kamiya Kasshin.” Yahiko was mortified. “And I’m sorry for what I said. But ever since I met Kenshin, I wanted to be strong like him. And now…” He really did idolize Himura, and his posture slackened.

“He’s very troubled at the moment.”

“Yeah. It’s hard to watch him. Before I left his room, I said I’d practice.” His gaze lifted, burning with determination. “I promised I’d learn from Kaoru, and even if she’s not here, I’m still the only student of the Kamiya dojo. I won’t get discouraged. I’ll keep moving forward, with the sword that protects. Protecting people is why Kenshin is strong. When he’s better and we rescue Kaoru, I’ll be ready.”

It was an ambitious and innocent goal. Completely fitting. Koshijiro placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Your words have reassured me.”

“Huh?”

“When I came home from Satsuma, Kaoru was alone. All of the other students had abandoned the school. But even if you didn’t join out of interest, you’ve grown to accept the ideals. You’ve stayed and learned and excelled.” Koshijiro locked eyes with him. “And you are the future of Kamiya Kasshin.”

Yahiko didn’t shy away. He seemed to rise at the affirmation. Someday, he’d lead a full class of his own, and Koshijiro hoped to see it. “Then, I’ll do my best.”

“Good. But it’s getting late and we’ll eat soon. You can start again at your usual time tomorrow.”

“Aw, fine.”

After months of lively company, it was actually strange, to have only four people at the dinner table. Sagara had returned late, reeking of sake and barely reacting to the updates they provided. The ordeal of waiting was taking its toll. And when Makimachi switched in for Takani to monitor Himura, Koshijiro glimpsed his silhouette, exactly in the same place as before.

***

The first time Koshijiro woke in the middle of the night, it was to the noise of a door closing. The likely explanation was that someone was using the outhouse. But given the events they’d endured, Koshijiro couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to check. Intuition carried his feet to the front door, which audibly creaked as he gazed out.

In a familiar picture, Sagara was crouched in the yard, under the moonlight. However, he was in the midst of tying a cloth sack, and a bundled bedroll was resting on his shoulder. He startled. “Guess you caught me, old man.” A forced laugh escaped him.

“I believe so. Would you like to share what you’re doing?”

His knees jittered, and at last, he said. “I can’t stay. I hate waiting for the trap to spring, waiting for new intel, waiting around and doing nothing! I’m not that patient, I’ve always known when to cool my head and this is it.”

“Sagara-san…”

“And there’s something else.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Looking at everyone else and you, well, I remembered my family. They probably don’t care, but I just…I can’t stop thinking about them. How they’d react if they believed I was dead, if they’d act like any of us right now, stupid shit like that.”

“It isn’t stupid at all. Do you want to visit them?” Koshijiro asked, and Sagara immediately snapped his head up.

“Look, I don’t know. Maybe, it’s too late. It’s been ten years.”

“If they truly care about you, time will not matter. I think it’d be valuable to make your peace with them. And if they still reject you, we’ll be here.”

Sagara’s mouth twisted, not quite a grimace or a smile. “Thanks. I think if I say goodbye to the others, they’ll pin me down and throw me in with Kenshin.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them.”

“Thanks, old man.” He managed a small smile of gratitude. Then, he brushed himself off and wryly gave a two-fingered salute. “I’ll be back when I can pull myself together. See ya.”

“Safe travels.”

And the fighter walked unflinchingly into the darkness. He’d clear his head and if he found closure with his family, he’d reunite with them as a freer man. Koshijiro was sure of it.

The second time his sleep was interrupted, it was the coldest hour before dawn. A low vibration underneath, and he thought: earthquake. He immediately rolled out of his futon, his hand pressed to the chilled floor, but the sensation was gone. There wasn’t another, as he waited until his fingertips were numb. Not an earthquake then, so what was it?

He made his way outside, searching for any disruptions. The horizon glowed a pale orange, yet the sky had not changed otherwise. The faint smell of smoke reached him. That fire was…in the direction of the cemetery.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” The murmur was too close and he looked to his side. Makimachi yawned. “It’s not a tremor, right? Oh, whoa!” She shook off the drowsiness and gasped.

“I’m going to the cemetery. Could you wake the others?” During his question, the bells were ringing in the distance.

“Y-yes. And I’ll join you after! Aoshi-sama.” The last was whispered, as she backtracked and hurried through the halls.

Koshijiro threw on a spare haori, and headed for the blaze. As he ran closer, it became apparent that the flames were concentrated in the woods behind the cemetery. The fire brigade had extinguished most of it already, leaving ash and embers. A number of trees were felled; amidst the scorch marks, deeper slashes cut across bark. Signs of a struggle.

The firefighters exclaimed. A burned corpse had been found. Koshijiro approached with trepidation, but the remains were obviously an old man’s. There wasn’t much left to discern, other than a wrinkled visage, jaws gaping in agony.

“Shinomori-san!” Koshijiro called out. “Where are you?”

Rustling drew his attention. A tree trunk shifted, and a shadow emerged from the ground. Shinomori had a minor wound on his cheekbone, soot smearing his clothing. But he was alive. Koshijiro offered his hand, helping him up.

“So, it was you after all.” A familiar voice drawled. The police had arrived to investigate and Saito surveyed the destroyed forest. “We found Gein’s mask. How ironic, for him to end up as scarcely more than the skull.”

Shinomori coughed. “Gein said their group had a hideout on the west bank of the Arakawa. In the lowest level of the Heishin Products Company building. We should go.”

“Agreed.” Saito nodded. “That’s for the police to handle.”

Something clicked in Koshijiro’s memory. “Arakawa? That was a place on the supply route from the map Sawagejo-san retrieved. No, not completely a supply route. An escape route. There were other locations. What if-”

Saito interjected. “I understand you’re eager to pursue your daughter’s murderer, Kamiya. But you’re still on leave.”

Koshijiro clenched his teeth. It was frustrating, but Gein wasn’t the only lackey. “Then, I expect to be updated on what you find in the hideout. And thank you for uncovering that information, Shinomori-san. Was the explosion your trap?”

“No. That was due to Gein’s explosive materials. I set them off though, I was willing to take him down.”

“…Then, you-”

“I didn’t swear a pacifist vow like Himura. I have a duty to fulfill, but I have no interest in dying. I dug pits like this one, for if I had to take cover. It wasn’t a difficult choice.” His dark eyes were resolute. “Besides, there are people waiting for me to return.”

As if on cue, Makimachi’s entrance was flawlessly timed. “Aoshi-sama!” She slid down an ashy slope, almost losing her balance. She ducked under Shinomori’s free arm, supporting him. “Are you okay? Kamiya-san and I thought it was an earthquake, then we saw the fire, and I was so worried! Come on, let’s have Megumi look at you.” She led him away, fussing over his injuries.

Koshijiro glanced at Saito, who waved dismissively. “I can tell what you’re thinking. Yes, the route was blocked but for supply ships. A smaller fishing vessel may have escaped notice, although that narrows the range of locations. Regardless, we don’t have the manpower or equipment if we sailed today.”

“What if I could ask for aid?”

“From who? The navy?”

“I have a friend who is a naval secretary. He could pull some strings.”

Saito had been sarcastic but he blinked at Koshijiro’s casual admission. He recovered, clearing his throat. “In that case, go ahead.”

Koshijiro bowed his head, before taking the detour into town. He sent a quick telegram to Hayashi, requesting for anyone available on short notice. Without a destination, the objective was hard to explain at the moment, but the communication was initiated. Then, he returned home.

The aromas of grilling fish and steaming rice were filling the air. Takani was preparing breakfast and upon seeing Koshijiro, she said. “Shinomori-san’s fine. He’s sitting with Ken-san now. I told Misao to wake up Yahiko, while the rooster-head’s already disappeared somewhere.”

“Ah. About that…”

Her expression contorted upon hearing the story. “I see. Well, I hope he finds what he’s looking for.” But her tone lacked its usual incisiveness. “Honestly, with how close he is to Ken-san, I don’t hold it against him. It really is difficult.”

Makimachi shuffled in, with a full bucket of well water. “Yahiko’s washing his face. He wants to start practice too, Kamiya-san.” She rummaged about, asking where the tea leaves were. While waiting for the water to boil, she counted off her fingers. “In summary, Inui, Otowa, and Yatsume are in jail. Kujiranami is in custody. And with Gein dead…”

“How do you feel about that, Kamiya-san?” Takani stared at him.

“Shinomori-san obtained our next lead, and I am very grateful.”

“Well, that’s not what I was asking. Even if it was the enemy, a life was still taken.”

He inhaled, counted to three. Slowly, he let the breath out. “I don’t have any excuses. It is regrettable, but time cannot be rewound. If Gein had been arrested, he could have informed us on who else could have been his victims, if only to give their families closure. Although, I’m not sure if he would have remained in prison long enough to be punished.”

Makimachi nodded. “True, true. He would’ve either escaped or been an easy target.”

“But I can’t forgive the men who used my daughter as a sacrifice for revenge. And if they have harmed her in any way…” The possibilities were ugly and terrible. His stomach lurched, his mind resisting further rumination. “I am scared for her.”

“So am I.” Takani had set down her cooking utensils. Her hands wrapped around herself, her gaze darkening. “We need to act fast.”

“We can do it.” Makimachi opted for a brave front. “It’s been two days, but we’ve come this far already.”

“And there’s still so much left.” She dourly replied.

Koshijiro felt like he had to write a list, but there was one thing that nobody had managed to crack yet: Himura’s condition. Inwardly, Koshijiro hesitated. It had to be a careful approach, and it certainly wasn’t natural to him. However, he had to overcome the worry. Walking to the altar, he faced Kyoko’s picture. If it was any other scenario, he’d ask for her guidance. Not this time. She had to watch over their girl.

Kaoru’s survival was a relief, but what was happening to her now? Was she wounded? Did she know they were desperately searching for her? How was she coping?

Stay strong, Kaoru. He fervently thought, hoping somehow, his wish would be carried to his daughter. We’re going to bring you home!

#rurouni kenshin #at arm's length #kenkao #hey this was 21 pages and it's chapter 21

4 notes · View notes