Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Tanabata Jasmine ❯ Discoveries ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The usual disclaimer, of course - Rurouni Kenshin and associated characters aren't mine, and I'm just living the philosophy `imitation is a form of flattery' … I couldn't possibly compete with Watsuki, and I'm not about to start.

Tanabata Jasmine Chapter 9

Delays were inevitable, he supposed. If Kaoru hadn't injured her ankle, he might have done this straight away, but no; some vestige of the gentleman still lurked in Sagara Sanosuke's heart. In any case, abandoning an injured woman on the side of the road a few minutes away from an ambush site probably wasn't the best idea.

He had compromised by dropping her off at Oguni Clinic. Predictably, Kenshin was nowhere to be seen. He asked Megumi to treat Kaoru's ankle and take her home. He made excuses for his departure - told them he was going to spread the word with his friends, get the search under way - and ducked out the door, conveniently leaving all explanations to Kaoru.

He hadn't lied. He would go to the gambling houses once he was done with his other, more important errand.

Nearly two hours after his first visit, Sano thumped yet again on the door of the cottage.

In the end, it wasn't the coincidence of the duel that had decided him to return. It was the merchant's broken nose. To Sano, it didn't make sense. According to the merchant, Kenshin had given him that injury - but in a `friendly' match using shinai, why would someone with such expert skill as the redhead break his opponent's nose? He couldn't believe it was an accident. If Kenshin had deliberately hurt the merchant, there was far more going on than a mere honour duel.

Yet again, nobody was answering the door. He thumped again, hard enough to rattle the door on its hinges. “Oi! Open up! I wanna talk to you.”

Silence.

He counted to five, snarled a curse and curled his foot back. A moment later, the door crashed inward, revealing a cluttered interior that made Sano's own residence look clean by comparison.

He stood in the doorway, eyes adjusting to the gloom within. The merchant wasn't here, which was a disappointment. Then again, he wasn't a regular vendor in Tokyo. Did the man actually live in this junk pile? There was a futon in the corner, bare of any blankets, and a makeshift table a few feet ahead of him. Despite the scattered debris of timber and tipped over boxes, there was no sign of personal belongings. The merchant had left. Probably, he'd run off the moment he and Kaoru had been out of sight. That was as good a sign of guilt as any.

Sano had missed him.

Swearing, he kicked the table into the far wall with enough force to break the planking in half. Hands in pockets, he nudged the nearest box with his foot, sending it sprawling, and pushed a path across the floor. If he was very lucky, the merchant might've been foolish enough to leave something behind.

If not … well, at least he got to take his temper out on the dubious furnishings.

He was impressed with Kaoru's reaction to the whole business. After her brief moment of panic at the ambush site, her quiet determination to find Kenshin, even protect Kenshin, was astounding. He'd mentioned listing the rurouni with the police as a missing person, and her answer was well spoken: I think we should, but I don't think we should rely on them. I, for one, don't intend to sit here and just wait for someone else to try and fix things.

Comparing the Kaoru of this morning with the self-pitying woman who had cried when Kenshin left for Kyoto had been disconcerting, to say the least.

Kyoto. An image flared to life in his mind. Kenshin, gi torn to shreds by the Guren Kaina, falling like a rag doll as the sakabatou dropped from his grasp. The explosion had all but snuffed the life out of him. Sano had, in fact, thought that his best friend was dead. At the time it had filled him with a sense of the unreal. It was a moment that would forever stay burned in his mind, the point in time that he had come to realise that no matter how good Kenshin was, he was not invincible.

The memory was hurting, now. Sano was trying to avoid thinking of the second, nastier possibility - that this was not a kidnapping. That Kenshin was dead at the hands of his enemies, and the most he could hope to turn up from searching was his corpse in a ditch somewhere. It was a thought that he had refrained from sharing with Kaoru, but nevertheless - the number of people from Kenshin's past who just wanted him dead was frankly terrifying in circumstances like this.

He shook his head, and rapped his knuckles briefly against his forehead in self reprimand. “Baka,” he muttered. “No body, no proof. Keep looking.” His foot found another obstacle, and he lifted his foot to kick it out of the way.

And paused. And instead, crouched down beside the tofu bucket and lifted it in curious hands. One bucket looked like another, really, but …

What man would abandon his home with nothing but a tofu bucket?

… This one did seem awfully familiar.

He turned it over, examining the sides, and saw the blood stain. Dried blood, but not particularly old, and spattered in droplets across the rim. He stared at it for a moment, and his mind almost made an audible clicking sound. It could be Kenshin's blood, but somehow he doubted it. The thought that occurred was amusing enough to make him laugh out loud. The merchant had told the truth about his injury, but it certainly hadn't occurred during a shinai duel.

His laughter faded quickly. Unfortunately, the tofu bucket changed nothing. Certainly, it confirmed the merchant was a lying snake, but it told him nothing of where Kenshin was now. On the other hand, a man with that much bruising on his face was going to be very easy to find—

His head snapped up as he heard quiet footsteps outside, and stretched back up to his full height with his discovery still in hand, just as a figure stepped into the open doorway, indistinct in the light.

“Maa, maa,” came the smooth tenor. “I had a feeling you might return here. Did I leave anything behind?”

Sanosuke offered the merchant his best fighter's grin. “So tell me, flower-seller. What the fuck have you done with my friend?”

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All in all, Yahiko reflected, it probably wasn't the best idea to abuse Kaoru upon her return to the dojo. Limping slightly, supported by Megumi, she had entered in pallid calm, bade him sit down, and quietly told him of the discoveries she and Sano had made.

He knew as soon as he said it that the words weren't fair, but Kenshin's disappearance was hard to take. He yelled at her. “And you go and get yourself injured in some stupid accident? How're you gonna help find Kenshin if you're useless to us?”

“Yahiko!” Megumi snapped, shock plainly evident on her features. “You have no right!”

That was a first, Megumi defending Kaoru. The oddity in itself was enough to give Yahiko pause; Kaoru's already pale face blanching to white stopped him in his tracks with shame.

“K-Kaoru … I mean …” I'm worried as hell, and I don't want you to be hurt. The words wouldn't come.

“Don't worry about it, Yahiko,” Kaoru said flatly, staring past him at the wall. “I know what you meant.”

Megumi rested a hand on the other woman's shoulder and offered Yahiko a soft smile. “It's tough news to take, but there are still things we can do. Ken-san's a missing person - if we inform the police, they can start looking for him, and they might turn up something more.” Unspoken, a tacit invitation to get out of the dojo and let the air clear between them.

He nodded. “I'll go do it.”

“Arigatou.”

And so he left, sprinting for the police station, berating himself for childish words spoken too quickly.

The officer on duty had taken his statement and informed him the police would do everything they could, which in Yahiko's estimation wasn't much. Almost, he wished that Saitou was still alive. He would be far more effective than the bureaucracy of Tokyo's police department. If Saitou knew Kenshin had gone missing, he'd turn over every rock he could to find the Battousai. He couldn't pick a fight with a dead man, after all.

Yahiko firmly shied away from the idea of a dead rurouni, and wandered further into the streets of Tokyo. He had the vague notion of finding Sanosuke, who according to Megumi was rousing his buddies up to look for Kenshin. It would be even better, he thought, if I ran into some bad guy with Kenshin over his shoulder. Despite himself, he grinned at the absurd picture this presented, turned a corner and promptly ran into a short-cloaked figure far larger than him.

A hand reached down and grabbed him by his gi. He bristled for a moment, before realizing the hand was stopping him from falling on his butt in the street. He steadied himself, then brushed the hand away. “Arigatou, but I'm okay now.”

“You should watch where you're going.” Yahiko craned his neck to look at the speaker. The man was taller than Sanosuke, and well muscled, dark hair long enough to brush his shoulders. His face was heavyset and inscrutable as he peered down at the boy.

“You ran into me,” he retorted. “You shouldn't be so clumsy, knocking down kids in the street.”

The man gave a ghost of a smile, and stepped back half a pace. “You shouldn't pick fights with opponents you can't beat, boy,” he said. “Keep that in mind. Another man would take offence at your words.”

Yahiko opened his mouth to retort, and stopped cold, frozen in place as the man stepped around him and continued on his way.

He'd been close enough to get a glimpse of what the man had been wearing underneath the cloak. The fact that it was a sword was enough to snare his attention, considering the sword-ban. But the sheath …

He stood there another moment, mind working overtime, hands working into fists. Then abruptly, he turned on his heel and slipped after his mark, silent as a ghost.

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Kaoru-lovers, don't fret - I'm not writing her out of the story with a sprained ankle. It's only twisted, and she'll still have plenty to do.

Chibi Rouyakan: Thanks for the review! ^_^

::leaves more pocky for Teh BakaBokken:: And you! Quit poking me!

Hehe.