From: "Naga" Forgot to say this in chapter 5, comments and criticism are very welcome - styl, grammar, info. accuracy... Poke and kick at it as much as you like, I know these can be improved on a lot ^_^. I do need to ask if this style of writing is appropriate, or if you people'd prefer a much faster pace and less details style. And if you can, please tell me which part you liked most and which part sent you off to sleep! (not asking for much, am I? ^__^;;) Arigatou first! ================== Disclaimer : This fanfic is based on Rurouni Kenshin by Nobuhiro Watsuki. I'm not getting paid for this (I wish!) and no copyright infringement was intended. And please don't sue because I'm just a poor student. Now that that's taken care of... =================== ** is emphasis {} is thoughts This story is set in Bakumatsu 1865, a few months after Tomoe died. So it's a story of Himura Kenshin's time when he is still Hitokiri Battousai. Some possible spoilers for Revenge arc and the Tsuioku OAV. Previous chapters can be found in Miss Led's Fan-fiction page : http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Fuji/7081/Welcome.htm and Lady Amalthea's web-page T.e.a.h.o.u.s.e : http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Teahouse/6196/ (thank you both of you!) =================== The Darkest Shadows, The Brightest Lights by Naga Chapter 6 - Storm Coming --- Outskirt of Kyoto There were birds singing somewhere. He lay still for a long time listening to the soft sounds, listening to his own heavier breathing. Gradually, he became aware of more things. The rough scratchy feel of straw against his skin, the warmth of a cotton blanket covering him, a stale fishy smell in the air. His body felt heavy, not his own. Opening his eyes took some effort. Dust motes floated in the air above him, highlighted by soft golden rays of light that shone in from cracks in the thatched roof above. The dust motes danced in an intricate play of movement, stirred by gentle eddies of air too soft to be felt. His mouth felt dry and parched. {Where am I?} Instinctively he reached for his katana, beside his sword hand where he usually put it. His fingers closed on empty space. Frantic fear rose up in him. His katana never left his side, it was as much an extension of his body as his arms were. Fingers searching frantically suddenly brushed against something solid, almost out of reach, a cool smoothness very familiar to him. With a sigh of relief, he clutched the sword into his hand. Next, he needed to find out where he was. Years of living on the edge as a hitokiri, then as a guerilla fighter, had trained that reflex into his bones. Pushing the covering blanket aside, he tried to sit up and was alarmed by how weak he felt. His arms trembled and could barely support his weight. Light-headedness and dizziness assaulted his head, but he stubbornly continued to push himself up, leaning to his left. Immediately his left arm buckled under the strain, half-dumping him back to the pallet. The partially registered stiffness on his right side flared into hot pain. He gasped and went absolutely still, teeth clenched tight. After a while, the pulsing pain subsided into a bearable ache. But it had served to jolt his memory back to what had happened. {The river. Kyosuke.} {I'm alive.} There was a strange twinge somewhere deep in his heart on realizing that, but he refused to acknowledge it. He kept lying down for a while, catching his breath. He noticed someone had replaced his blood-soaked clothing with a clean yukata that fit loosely on his thin frame. Looking around, he saw that he was inside a small wooden hut with a blanket spread over a pile of straw for bed. There were only a few rough, clay-cooking implements, bare in the extreme. Once again he tried to get up. Very carefully, he pushed himself up to his knees, favoring his injured left arm. Moving slowly reduced the pain to a bearable level. Using his katana as a crutch, he supported himself to his feet, leaning on the wall. His head felt too heavy and his feet wobbled uncertainly, but they did not collapse. Careful not to move too fast, he slowly crept along the wall towards the closed wooden door. A push sent it open with a protesting creak. Outside, the late evening sun reflected brilliantly from the wide river surface, turning it a glittering crimson and gold. The hut stood on the slope of the slightly raised bank of the river, surrounded by tall grass. A well-worn path led to a small rickety dock beside the river. A few narrow fishing boats dotted the placid surface, a lone fisherman on each boat. {Kyosuke is probably in one of those boats.} The thought was barely out of his mind when a voice hollered somewhere from the side. "OY! OY, HIMURA!" A large man was waving his hands vigorously on top of the small hill. When he saw he had Kenshin's attention, he started down towards the hut. Kenshin judged the distance to the hut and decided to wait for the other man inside. On the pallet. His head was starting to spin and the glare hurt his eyes. He walked back at the same invalid pace as before, crushing his impatience firmly. Slow was far better than flat on his face in the dirt. When he attempted to sit back down, his feet simply gave way and he sprawled rather painfully on the straw. Cursing between gritted teeth, he pulled his limbs into a semblance of dignity just as Kyosuke entered the hut. Kyosuke's wide friendly face was scrunched up in a worried frown, "Hey, you're not supposed to be moving yet. The sensei who patched you up said you lost a lot of blood, you need rest." Kenshin shook his head, then stopped when it made the spinning worse. "I'm fine." His voice sounded rusty to his own ears. "How long was I out?" Kyosuke knelt beside him and lifted a cup of water sitting beside the pallet. "This is the fourth day after I fished you out of the water." Kyosuke grinned as he offered Kenshin the water. Kenshin's mind reeled. He stared at Kyosuke in shock, "FOUR DAYS?!" Then he sputtered as Kyosuke insistently fed him the water. The cool water felt incredibly wonderful to his parched mouth and he drank thirstily. "You had one hell of a fever. Your wound was infected, and you were soaked in that river water. For a while there, we were really worried." Kyosuke's eyes were somber as he scrutinized his friend. Kenshin tried not to fidget under the concerned gaze, unaccustomed to such attention. Then the moody expression disappeared from the big man's face and he was smiling his usual bright smile. "Don't worry, nothing happened. Well, not to us anyway. Kyoto was in chaos though - thanks to you we got the list of Shinsengumi and some seifu spies. Now most of them are dead or in hiding. Katsura-san said you're to rest for two to three weeks before you have to do anything. He said 'good work' to all of us." Kyosuke beamed at him. Kenshin hardly dared to believe their luck. "The mission was a complete success?" Kyosuke froze slightly, his eyes rising to the ceiling as he stammered, "Et-to..." Sighing, Kenshin resignedly said, "Tell me the whole thing Kyosuke. You're a horrible liar anyway." Kyosuke scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Maa, maa, Himura. I just didn't want to worry you. You always take things so seriously, I thought...", seeing Kenshin's glare, he hurriedly added, "aah, I thought I'd tell you the whole thing? Anyway, our part went off perfectly, but the one who was supposed to break into the safe in the Shinsengumi's headquarter was caught red-handed. By the Third troop's Captain, Saitou Hajime." Kenshin looked up in surprise, "I thought he was supposed to be in Edo?" "He came back the day before." Kyosuke hastily raised his hands to ward off Kenshin's glower, "Katsura-san thought it's best not to distract you." "Anyway, our man got the spy list, and a few other things, but he didn't get it all. He did burn all those documents before he escaped, so Katsura-san said those Shinsengumi are probably still trying to sort things out now. He said we could take advantage of that. It's not our fault," he added on seeing Kenshin's increasingly bleak face. Kenshin said nothing, his mind in dark turmoil. {After all that effort, we still didn't get the most important things. It's a good thing we finally know who the spies in our midst are, but with those other documents, we could do so much more.} His fists clenched in bitter anger. {How much is this all worth in the big picture? If this is all that I can do when I put in all my efforts, how little it all means in the end.} A hand holding a rice ball appeared before him. He started, looking up into Kyosuke's warm brown eyes. "Eat some, you haven't eaten in four days. We couldn't get anything into you." Kenshin eyed the food, nausea rising in sickening wave in his stomach. "You eat it," he murmured, turning his head away, "I'm not hungry." He felt sturdy palms on his shoulders, then Kyosuke was firmly turning him towards him. Kenshin stiffened at the flesh contact and had to stifle his ingrained reaction to push the hands away. He looked at Kyosuke's earnest brown eyes, a frown creasing his friend's thick brows. After a moment, Kyosuke sighed and bowed his head. "I'm not supposed to tell you this," he muttered softly, but his eyes were smiling when he looked back at Kenshin, "But I can see that you're just going to be miserable otherwise." Kenshin's eyes flashed, but Kyosuke spoke before he managed to open his mouth, "Our man who got into the safe managed to get quite a few useful pieces of information. Katsura-san said probably more than the Shinsengumi suspected. Among other things...remember the rebellion near Biwa Lake? Well, we found out the schedule and route of the next supply runs to the military suppressing it. He's sending a group of Shishis to intercept it, destroy it if necessary. There could be something fishy in that run, since it made it into the top-secret documents." "So you see Himura," he grinned at him, "the mission's not as bad a failure as you think. And I'm just a simple fisherman, so Katsura-san won't tell me anything. But I think he was quite pleased, so there's gotta be some nice stuff we've gotten our hands on." He pushed the rice ball into Kenshin's hand. "Now, eat." Kenshin stared at his gently smiling friend for a while, then at the food in his hand. His stomach did not rebel quite as badly as before, so he took a tentative bite. They ate their meal in silence. Later as Kyosuke bustled about tidying up their meal, Kenshin cleared his throat and said in a soft voice, "Kyosuke... arigatou." Kyosuke just grinned at him. They both knew the thanks were for more than the food or his rescue from the river. "Himura, are you tired?" Kenshin leaned back carefully against the hut's side. "I've slept enough, I think," he replied dryly. "What is it?" Kyosuke scratched his head again, "Ano... if it's not too much trouble..." Kenshin broke into a rare soft smile. "It's alright. But I'm afraid you'll have to help me bring the paper and brush." The other man scrambled hastily to his feet, wide smile on his face, "Of course, you just stay there, Himura. I'll prepare the ink for you." Kenshin watched his friend with fond amusement as the big man hurriedly fetched all the writing implements. He laid them all carefully on a low wooden box in front of Kenshin, just high enough for a convenient writing position. Kenshin propped his elbows on the box, thankful for Kyosuke's thoughtful consideration, and reached for the writing brush. "Alright, what do you want me to write then?" Kyosuke pursed his lips, brows drawn in fierce concentration, "Etto... the usual first Himura. How are you tousan, kaasan, I'm fine, don't worry. Tetsuya, Michiru, Akari, are you all healthy? How's tousan's back, is kaasan still coughing in the night, did you get the medicine I sent you..." "Slow down, Kyosuke," Kenshin interrupted with some amusement, "I can't write that fast." "Aaa, sumaan, Himura !" Kyosuke apologized sheepishly, then he grinned at Kenshin rather wistfully, "You're so clever, Himura, you can read and write. I don't know how, only our village chief knows how to. If you haven't helped me, I'd have had to pay so much to those writers in Kyoto just for one letter." Kenshin shrugged, careful not to smear the words, "Shishou taught me how to. He said that he didn't want to be embarrassed by a student who couldn't even spell 'Hiiten Mitsurugi Ryuu'." He let his mind wander as he wrote down Kyosuke's words. As usual, when thinking or talking about his shishou, there was a dull, leaden pain in his heart. For the hundredth time, he wished they had parted on better terms. If Hiko Seijurou did not stop to save him that cold night eight years ago, he would be just another nameless dead body. And he had taught him Hiiten Mitsurugi Ryuu - the best in the art of killing. Had given him one skill that saved him from being a powerless victim, one skill that he could use to make a difference to this world. And yet... It could not be helped. They believed in different things, and Kenshin grudgingly admitted both of them were stubborn to a fault. Neither of them would yield in their belief in what was the right thing to do. He wondered though, knowing what he did now, if he would have chosen the same path, given another chance. Kenshin gave a mental shake to himself. There was no point in thinking of what might-have-been. One could only go on the best they know how. But a nagging whisper persisted at the back of his mind... {no matter the cost?} Kyosuke was finishing the letter in his usual way, "...and take care of yourselves, all of you. I missed you all a lot." He hesitated a bit, then added in a rush, the words coming out in an uneven tone, "I love you all, remember that. No matter what happens, I always will. So take care and be happy. Your big brother, Kyosuke." Kenshin looked up at Kyosuke somewhat in surprise, but the older man was looking down at the floor. That addition was unusual, but if the man did not want to talk... "Done," Kenshin said aloud to Kyosuke, carefully blowing on the thin paper to dry the ink. Kyosuke looked up and beamed at him, "Domo arigatou, Himura," Whatever strange mood had prompted those last sentences was no longer present in his face. "I'd better give this to Taro-kun now, he's going to go back to our village tomorrow. He'll also help me take some of Kyoto's sweets for Tetsuya, Mitchiru and Akari, I'm sure they'll love it! A bit more of those medicines for 'kaasan, and some money for 'tousan. What, Himura?" Kenshin was shaking his head, smiling slightly at him. "You're a good man, Kyosuke. Any woman who gets to marry you will be very lucky." Kyosuke's face reddened and he laughed, slapping the back of his head, "What are saying, Himura? I'm just a poor peasant, I'm not handsome like you, and I'm not smart or good with a sword either. Women don't give me second looks like they give you, Himura." Kenshin shook his head again, replying quietly, "Don't sell yourself so short. In matters of happiness, looks and skills don't really amount to much. A dependable man with good heart is better able to bring happiness to his family." {Something that I could not do.} "Hah, arigatou-yo. Ara, Himura, are you tired?" Kenshin had leaned back against the wall, his eyes shut and brows drawn tight. His side was starting to ache badly again, even though he really did not do anything much. His muscles felt tired and heavy. "A bit." "Dame-yo, Himura. Come on, I'll help you lie down. You need rest." Kenshin did not resist Kyosuke's help. It troubled him how weak he felt and he wondered how long before he could gain back his health. He rather suspected it would be some time. After he had helped Kenshin get comfortable, Kyosuke said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I tired you out Himura. I just... I thought it's best to send my family a letter before I go. Himura, I have to leave tonight for the mission." Seeing Kenshin's questioning look, he continued, "Remember what I said about the shipment? I'll be ferrying our people down the river near the ambush point, maybe also join in the attack itself. It'll probably be three to four days before I can get back." Kenshin tried to get up, his right hand instinctively reaching for his katana, "I should..." "No," Kyosuke gently but firmly pushed Kenshin back down, "you are most definitely not joining in. You're too weak, you should know that. Don't worry, we have enough people to roll over the escort." He grinned at Kenshin, "We might not have much skill, but we have numbers. Besides, they don't know we're coming." "But I can't..." "Yes, you can. Katsura-san said you're to take leave until you're recovered. And that's an order. He knew you'd be like this, that's why he told me not to tell you. Please, don't be stubborn this time, Himura. You really need to rest." Kenshin reconsidered his condition. His first instinct was to go by his friend's side. An ambush on a military escort was chancy at best. If there was indeed something important about this particular supply, odds were it would be heavily guarded, and most probably with guns. That always left heavy casualties. He did not want Kyosuke to be one of those. That possibility had obviously occurred to Kyosuke, it explained that disturbingly worded letter. {So that's why...in case he never comes back.} But he could not protect him now. Kenshin was honest enough with himself to admit that he probably would not be able to walk to the river without falling on his face, let alone wielding a sword in a fight. He would just be a burden to the rest. Once decided, he forced himself to relax on the pallet. "That's better," Kyosuke grinned. "I've asked Mamoru-kun to bring some warm food for you everyday, his wife's a good cook. The physician is coming back in two days time to check on you. Don't move around too much or you'll tear your wounds again." Kenshin forced a small smile, "Go. Stop worrying over me like a mother hen. I'll be fine." Kyosuke laughed heartily, "Like a mother hen, am I? All right, all right, I won't say anything anymore. I swear, you are so much like him..." Kenshin blinked in surprise. "Who?" Kyosuke's smiling face was shadowed with a hint of sadness. "Iya, nandemonai..." He abruptly turned around, "I'll see you in a few days. Jaa, Himura." "Kyosuke..." The other man paused beside the door, "Aa?" "... take care." Kyosuke's warm smile lit up his whole face. "Arigatou, Himura." He stepped out of the hut. Kenshin stared at the closed door for a while. He had wanted to say - *Live*. He sighed and tried to relax. But despite his exhaustion and pain, his mind was racing around too much for him to sleep. He could not push away the worry that something might happen to Kyosuke, and he would not be there to help him. Even though he only knew Kyosuke for less than a year, he was genuinely fond of the older man. The first time he had met Kyosuke was in one of the safe houses, after one of the missions. Back in those days, Kyosuke seldom went on attacks. He worked in the background, providing supplies and equipment for the assault teams, and occasionally ferrying them on his fishing boat to wherever they needed to go. He also prepared food, help dress injuries, and basically did all the household chores for the others. He never minded doing things that many men scorn as women's work. He would simply laugh it off and say that he was used to helping his ailing mother care for the household. For whatever reason of his own, ever since they met, Kyosuke had seemed to make it his business to take care of the former hitokiri. And Kenshin had needed some caring in those first few months after Tomoe's death. He did not realize it at first, but there would always be some hot food left in the kitchen on those days when he would return to his room straight after a mission, skipping food. Kyosuke regularly knocked on the door of his room, calling for him to come and eat. Cold rebuttals and stony silence were blithely ignored, biting rejoinders to leave him alone would simply result in a tray of food left in front of his door. On those days when he went off alone and returned bone-tired from a demanding mission, medicine and bandages would be ready side by side with hot food on the table. Through it all, Kyosuke asked for nothing back from him and did not seem to expect anything either. Kenshin was still cautious about trusting anyone again after what had happened with Idzuka. But after a while, Kyosuke's apparent good will and warm heart finally succeeded in penetrating his considerable inner wall. He was not sure if he trusted Kyosuke fully, but he was still one of very few people that Kenshin called a friend, and he knew that he would not hesitate to fight to protect Kyosuke. Although he wondered how much that was worth. The gods seemed fond of playing cruel tricks on him; he was feared as one of the deadliest man alive, and after he had changed to being a bodyguard he had done a good job of protecting his fellow Ishin Shishi. But in all his life, he always failed those whom he most wished to protect... starting from his parents, Kasumi, Sakura, Akane.... and Tomoe. {Stop it, stop thinking like this again. It doesn't help, it never did, never will. Stop.} The heavy mood was smothering him, but he was helpless to escape from it. In the silence of the hut, there was nothing to disturb him, nothing to distract his thoughts from trudging down the well-worn path in his mind. {Stop.} His hand reached out and clamped around the cold hilt of his katana, pulling it in to huddle against his side. There was a certain comfort that came with the familiar presence of the sword. More and more, he found himself reluctant to part from it. It was one of the many changes he had noticed in himself in recent months. Subtle changes, but telling. Even if he did not want to know what they were telling him. The blanket was warm enough, but he still found himself shivering. A familiar soft voice murmured in his mind's ears, an image of her calm face tilted up to him - {can you sleep without a katana by your side?} Once. One night, when he rested with a pair of gentle arms encircling him, and for the first time was able to forget what he was. {Do you have anywhere that you belong to?} A savage twist in his heart made him close his eyes tightly, his body unconsciously half-curling against the rough bedding. Not anymore. Times like this, he wondered if everybody that he cared for would be touched by this curse of his, to die a violent death with him powerless to protect them. He desperately hoped that was not true. Sometimes it felt so lonely... He crushed the thought away - it had been that way almost all his life, he had learned to live with it. People did not stay. And in a time like this, death was too common. He kept most people at a safe distance away, was it to prevent himself from caring again? And from hurting when they die... The only person who had ever reached past the walls of his heart was Tomoe. She had touched his soul, and for the first time in his life he was not alone. And he had destroyed that most precious light with his own hands. He wearily drifted off into a fitful rest. A phrase he had heard once came back to haunt him to his sleep - {misfortunes dealt by the gods can be absolved, but those brought about by one's own hands are unforgivable.} *** [Go on to chap6b] ==== Naga --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- GRAB THE GATOR! FREE SOFTWARE DOES ALL THE TYPING FOR YOU! Tired of filling out forms and remembering passwords? Gator fills in forms and passwords with just one click! Comes with $50 in free coupons! Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------