From: WildWyrick@aol.com Sorry about the last post. I forgot to format! Hope this is formatted better! Hi, folks! Sorry I've been absent from both writing and commenting much for a while. I hadn't planned for this chapter to be as long as it turned out to be- fics have such a way of growing! Please excuse the self-referential flashback to "The Art of War". I hadn't planned to include one, but it seemed to work. I tried to incorporate it in such a way that everything still makes sense even if you haven't read that fic. Anyway, here's the usual quick summary. Hope you enjoy! Elizabeth **In the last chapter Kenshin, Kaoru, and Saitoh were taken prisoner by Russian sailors and were marched to a deserted fishing village the sailors had turned into a base. Kaoru and Saitoh were then transported to a Russian gunboat lying just off shore. Kenshin was left behind with the sailors, tied up and hanging from the ceiling of a lodge that had been used to store food. The Russian sergeant is convinced Kenshin is a spy, and tries to make him confess by threatening him with a game of Russian roulette.** Those Days Are Written On My Heart * A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki Part 5: Walking the Third Path "Now, are you going to tell me what you and your companions are up to, or are we going to play?" The sergeant paced in front of Kenshin, brandishing the heavy revolver. "I don't have patience with spies." "You're mistaken." Kenshin shook his head, his eyes following the Russian's progress back and forth across the floor of the lodge. "We're not spies." An image of Kaoru rose in his mind, but he pushed it aside resolutely. "Why would a woman be with us if we were?" "Women can be spies. Sometimes they make the best kind." "We are not spies," Kenshin repeated. His voice was steady, determined, but he felt a hard knot forming in his stomach. The Russian seemed to have answers for everything, and the truth sounded too bizarre to be believed. But still he had to try. Kaoru was waiting for him. "We're ordinary people, and strange as it may seem to you--" "Ordinary people who were flying through the air in a balloon near our base? Ordinary people with swords?" The sergeant stopped in front of Kenshin, sizing him up. "I'm not a fool. Your eyes betray your words. I don't see an ordinary man in them." "Do you really see a spy, either?" For a moment the Russian was at a loss. Then he gave a short laugh. "I see a quick-tongued boy, a little weasel who lives by cunning. But you won't worm your way out of this! You can act brave and lie as much as you want, but your flesh is like anyone else's." "I know that," Kenshin said quietly, "but I also know the truth, which is more than you do at this moment. We're not--" He was silenced by a stinging slap across the face. "Enough!" the sergeant barked. "I don't want to hear any more denials, only confessions. Why are you making it so hard on yourself? When your master is interrogated on the 'Nayezdnik' he will tell us everything he knows. Once he confesses, what mercy do you think you will receive for your stubbornness?" Slowly, deliberately, he cocked the revolver as he moved to Kenshin's side. "I'm giving you a choice." Kenshin felt the cold steel of the barrel against his temple. "Confess you are a spy and tell me what you know, or gamble your life in this game of roulette!" Kenshin closed his eyes, his mind racing. He knew the Russian was waiting for him to speak but making a false confession, even to buy himself time, was unthinkable. It was not, however, the dishonor of such an action alone that forestalled him. To confess would be to betray Saitoh and Kaoru. It was impossible to implicate himself without dragging them down as well. As long as he remained silent, they still had a chance to convince their captors of their innocence. Perhaps the officers of the 'Nayezdnik' would be more reasonable than these sailors. Yet he couldn't afford to die, either. He had made a promise to Kaoru. She was waiting for him. And she had kissed him. Kaoru had kissed him. Kenshin swallowed hard at the thought, furious at the tears he suddenly felt behind his eyelids. He could feel the Russian shift impatiently beside him, but still he could not decide. Even if he was lucky and the firing chamber of the revolver was empty the first time, what of the second? And the third? His death might be delayed, but the end result was certain: if he played against the Russian, he would lose. He clenched his fists in frustration, wincing as the rope cut into his wrists. There had to be another way. There was always another way. Opening his eyes he looked up at his hands, red and swollen in their bonds. And then a small smile, too swift for his captor to notice, flickered across Kenshin's lips. # He was twelve years old when he stumbled upon the secret of the third path, but at the time it meant less to him than a sword. Kenshin carried the katana he had won from Hiko proudly, displaying it to everyone. The real prize seemed far less exciting in comparison. It was the old samurai at the sake shop, Hara, who made him realize what he had discovered. His eyes lit with pride when Kenshin entered wearing Hiko's katana. But he quickly grew impatient when the boy continued to marvel over his unexpected victory. "A shiny sword is only outward glory, rich as that may be! Don't you know what all this means?" "Oro?" "Himura-san, why do you think you won? Why were you able to break your master's grip and gain the right to carry that sword?" "Well," the boy admitted, "it wasn't easy for me to think of a plan. Even after you encouraged me, for a long time I still couldn't find a way to win, because Hiko is so strong. I felt..." he paused, searching for the right word, "powerless, helpless against such an opponent. But then..." "Yes?" Hara was watching him expectantly. "Go on." "But then," Kenshin cleared his throat, "I remembered a time when I really was powerless, not just thinking I was." He frowned at the memory. "It seemed to me the only way to win when you're weak is to change the rules, to alter the game. So I found a way to fight Hiko that didn't require strength, and that evened the odds between us." "You discovered the third path," Hara said with satisfaction. "What?" "Listen, Himura-san. I'm going to tell you something many men who strut around calling themselves great warriors don't know: a battle is just a series of choices, nothing more. Attack or defend? Retreat or stand your ground? Will you use this assault or that one?" He cast a piercing glance at the boy. "Are you paying attention?" "Hai!" "Good. Now, most people accept the choices they are given without question. One option seems better than the other, so they choose it and do the best they can. But sometimes you are given a choice that is no choice, where both paths before you lead to defeat and despair. It is at these moments that a truly great warrior puts aside fear and looks for the third path." "The third path...?" Hara nodded. "It is the shadow road, a path that opens in your mind when every other way seems hopeless. If you can find it and tread it steadfastly, it will lead you to victory." "But what if there is no 'third path'? What if there is nothing to find?" "There is always another way for those with eyes to see." Hara sighed. "Your master gave you a choice, didn't he? Break his grip by pitting your strength against his, or relinquish the sword. I know Hiko. He expected you to lose the sword and gain some muscle in the process." Hara smiled thinly. "But you, Himura-san, are strangely wise for your years. I suspected that might prove to be the case. You chose to walk the third path, to fight your own way. That is why you won." "But... surely Hiko knows about this 'third path' thing?" "Of course he does. Don't be arrogant! He just didn't think you would discover this truth so soon. But he will not underestimate you again, so don't expect another such victory!" Hara fell silent, studying the boy's thoughtful countenance. When he spoke again it was more gently. "Remember, Himura-san: the scavenger eats the meat it finds in its path, but the hunter seeks his prey. Do not accept the choices others give you. They are traps for the weak-hearted. Walk the third path, even if you are all alone! It is the road to unexpected victory." # "Well? Do you talk or do we play?" The sergeant pressed the barrel of the revolver more firmly against Kenshin's temple. Kenshin's unwavering gaze was now focused straight ahead. He felt hope stirring deep within him, but he gave no outward sign of its presence. His face was expressionless, a mask of indifference. "I suppose we play. I won't waste any more words on a coward." The words were spoken with icy contempt. "What?" The Russian grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Kenshin's head back, stretching his throat so that it was impossible to turn his head and see his captor. Kenshin stared up at the hook he was hanging from, at his swollen hands, at the dusty wooden ceiling above. "Only a coward would kill a man without looking him in the eye." The Russian released Kenshin's hair abruptly and moved in front of him. Kenshin lowered his head slowly, only to find the sergeant's strong hand at his throat. "You want me to look at you, then? Fine." The hand tightened, cutting off air. Kenshin hung limply, his eyes never leaving the sergeant's face. It was becoming difficult to breathe, but he forced himself to stay still, not to struggle. "I could squeeze the life out of you this way, but it would be too easy. A coward! Arrogant words, but soon you'll be begging for my mercy!" He released Kenshin's throat and stepped back, considering. One of the other sailors shouted a suggestion that seemed to please him. Moving forward again, the Russian stood directly in front of Kenshin and pressed the revolver against his prisoner's knee. "I've changed my mind about shooting you in the head. Sergei has pointed out that playing for smaller stakes makes the fun last so much longer." He grinned at Kenshin. "Do you know what will happen if there is a bullet in the firing chamber? Your kneecap will shatter into a hundred pieces. You'll be a cripple forever, even if you do decide to start talking and I let you live." Kenshin made no reply but he watched his captor closely, his breathing shallow and controlled. After a moment the sergeant shrugged. "I guess now we'll find out if you're a lucky man, or just a stupid one." And he pulled the trigger. When the gun went off there was a deafening explosion, so loud it drowned out every other sound in the lodge, even Kenshin's cry. # "What was that?" "It sounded like a gunshot." Sanosuke broke into a run, sprinting down the beach with Yahiko at his heels. The street fighter was flying, moving with incredible dexterity along the rocky ground, his white shirt billowing behind him. Then, without warning, he suddenly flung himself down. Yahiko had no time to stop. He fell in a tangle of arms and legs on top of Sano. "Hey!" "Shh." The man's hand closed over Yahiko's mouth. "Shut up and look over there." They had rounded a bend and a cove lay before them. They stared down at the hidden bay, at the iron-hulled sloop that lay in its protected waters. "What the...?" Yahiko's astonished exclamation was muffled by Sano's hand. "We have to stay down and get to that line of trees, or we'll be seen," Sano hissed. He began crawling up the beach, moving with a stealthy grace. Yahiko followed more clumsily. He looked behind them, then tugged Sano's sleeve. "Sano?" "Shh!" "But..." "What?" Sano whirled on him. His irritated expression faded as soon as he realized what was bothering the boy, only to be replaced by one of dismay. "Now, where did he go...?" Sano quickly scanned the beach in all directions, cursing. Kitsune was nowhere to be seen. # Kenshin was surprised there was actually a bullet in the firing chamber of the revolver. It was bad luck, and against the odds. The instant the Russian's finger tightened on the trigger he gave a battle-yell and kicked with all his strength, sending the revolver flying out of his captor's hand. He pushed off against the sergeant's body with both feet, swinging backwards through the air. The momentum was enough to propel him off the hook as he swung forward once again. He flew through the air, landing on top of his captor. Even though the Russian's body broke Kenshin's fall, the landing still sent pain coursing through him. He rolled away, trying to protect his cracked ribs, conscious of the other sailors pressing forward. He only had a moment before they would be on top of him. Pushing the pain aside, he tried to stand on his good ankle, but he had no strength in his left leg. He stared down at it, realizing for the first time he had just been shot. His kick had prevented his knee from being shattered, but the bullet had grazed him as it passed, opening a long gash in his thigh. As he tried to struggle to his feet, he felt one of the sailor's hands close on the front of his gi, lifting him off the ground. Kenshin swung his bound hands, clubbing the Russian on the side of the head. The man toppled, releasing him. The impact of the blow loosened the rope, and Kenshin wriggled his hands free, flinging the knotted coil into the nearest sailor's face. There was a rifle propped against the wall. Kenshin lunged for it, only to fall jarringly on his stomach when the sailor he had just knocked to the floor grabbed his ankle. He kicked the man in the face, and crawled forward, reaching the rifle just in time. A blade fell through the air toward his back. Kenshin rolled over, blocking it with the rifle. Another sailor stood above him, his cutlass embedded in the wooden stock. Twisting the rifle, Kenshin wrenched the blade out of the man's hands. He tore it free and cast the gun aside. Slowly, he pushed himself along the floor toward the wall, the cutlass held up protectively. He had a sword. It was a strange shape and length, but the pommel fit reassuringly into his hand. He was wounded, cornered, exhausted, but he had a blade. Things could definitely be worse. Gritting his teeth, Kenshin forced himself to his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall, his hand pressed against his thigh. Blood oozed between his fingers. Too much blood. He shook his head to clear it, his eyes narrowing as they focused on the door of the lodge. Some of his adversaries stood in front of it, blocking his escape. Others clustered around him, just beyond the reach of his blade. They could afford to wait, but he could not. With a yell Kenshin leapt forward, striking the closest man with the flat of his blade. Another sailor rushed in and caught his wrist, hoping to wrest the cutlass from him. He knocked the man aside and lunged for the door on unsteady legs. He had almost reached it when he caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye. The sergeant was on his feet again, revolver in hand. Kenshin tried to dodge his blow, but it was too late. The gun crashed into his face, knocking him to the floor. He lay there in a heap, gasping. One of the sailors stepped forward and pried the cutlass from his numb fingers. He could see nothing but a haze of light and shadow, could feel nothing but a sea of pain. For a terrifying moment Kenshin was afraid he had been blinded. Then he began to discern shapes again, could see the sergeant standing above him, his back to the door. It was only a few short steps away, but it might as well have been miles. As Kenshin watched him, the man began to load the revolver, slowly and deliberately placing a bullet in each chamber. Then he cocked the gun and aimed it at Kenshin's head. "You're clever," the Russian said, "but the game is over and you have lost." "Nothing... is over." Kenshin tensed, ready to dodge, but he knew his chances were poor. But it was point-blank range and he was moving far too slowly. He wondered if Kaoru would forgive him for breaking his promise, if she would understand how hard he had tried to keep it. At least she had kissed him. At least he had that. The sergeant's finger tightened on the trigger.. # --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Campaign 2000 is here! http://www.onelist.com Discuss your thoughts; get informed at ONElist. See our homepage. ------------------------------------------------------------------------