Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Tanabata Jasmine ❯ A Meeting ( Chapter 28 )

Well…

 

 

Here we are. A final story chapter, long delayed by random life events, hefty writer's block, and sheer unwillingness to finish the story. Just as well I have other projects to move onto, ne? I hope you've enjoyed it thoroughly, and hopefully the ending is to your taste as well.

 

 

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all associated characters do not belong to me. The plot is largely mine, though…

 

 

::sniffle::

 

 

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Tanabata Jasmine Chapter 28

 

 

For ten minutes, she'd been sitting on the engawa in the sunlight and watching Misao flitter around like a panicked bird. Kaoru sipped her tea, enjoyed the morning warmth and entertained herself with counting how many times the small feet would thunder past as the self-named Okashira checked yet another room. It was amusing, she thought, that someone trained in the art of ninjutsu could fail to grasp what was obvious to everyone else.

 

 

On the fourth time round, she took pity. “Misao-chan? Aoshi left early this morning. He went with Kenshin to the station.”

 

 

Misao skidded to a halt, with a frustrated look on her face so petulant that Kaoru briefly felt sorry for the object of her affections. “What? Why didn't he say anything?”

 

 

“You were still sleeping,” Kaoru said, offering her a cheerful smile carefully stripped of all amusement. “I'm sure he didn't want to wake you.”

 

 

But Kenshin had woken her; rapped softly at the door to get her attention, and told her with a smile that they would return in the afternoon. Sensitive to the amount of worry she'd gone through on his behalf, he was making sure she knew exactly where he would be. She appreciated the thought, even as she felt slightly guilty for his added concern.

 

 

“Well, I suppose Himura had to see the police anyway.” Misao dropped grumpily to sit beside her. “I wonder why Aoshi-sama went without me?”

 

 

“Maybe he thought you'd be bored,” Kaoru said absently. “You know, Kenshin only has to give them a statement. They'll probably come home after that. It's not that exciting.”

 

 

Not entirely true; she knew that given the opportunity to talk to Bayushi, Kenshin would spend much of the day attempting to find a more peaceful resolution between them. The rurouni had recovered well over the past few days with bed rest, even if that rest occasionally had to be enforced; now that he was up to it, they would be returning to Tokyo tomorrow. Today would be his only real chance.

 

 

It wasn't like Aoshi to go with him just for the sake of company. Kaoru assumed that he had business of his own to tend to that didn't involve Misao. She took another sip of her tea, and kept her thoughts on the matter to herself.

 

 

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He found himself to be surprisingly complacent about his incarceration. When he considered the events that led him to be placed under arrest, he could only conclude that he had nobody to blame but himself. Certainly, he was guilty of kidnapping. He had been a little frightened when the police accused him of being an accessory to treason, but it was a charge they eventually dropped, to his immense relief. Bayushi had apparently been arrested himself and informed them of the full situation.

 

 

He supposed that should function as a lesson to him to question the motivations of his employers before taking on a contract. Of course, that was providing he ever set foot outside of a jail cell again. He had the feeling that his success in kidnapping the legendary Battousai was only going to work against him in that regard.

 

 

Senzo Karanai stretched out on the small bench, gazing up at the ceiling of his cell with a rueful smile. It was truly a shame. The notoriety that he'd have garnered in certain circles for his final contract would have been excellent for business. And now? Even if he managed to regain his freedom, he would be lucky to make a living if he returned to merely selling his silks.

 

 

He'd been here just over a week, curled in a plain-walled cell that he far preferred over the one night of hospitality with Shinomori's group. Granted, their treatment was nothing to complain about - one of the staff there had even set his wrist for him - but their silence and accusing looks had unnerved him after a while. Far better that he deal with the professional distance and curiosity of the police here; they weren't personal friends of the rurouni, after all.

 

 

And he was still here, for reasons unexplained. So he lay on his back and hummed tunelessly to pass the time, staring at the darkness above him while he waited for something to change.

 

 

Eventually it did, in the form of the small partition in the door rattling open, and the quiet tones of the officer on duty.

 

 

“You have a visitor.”

 

 

Senzo blinked. Out of all possibilities, that one was the most unexpected. The ninja had no call to see him again - they'd made it quite clear they wanted nothing more to do with him at all - and Yoshida was hardly going to waltz into the station to wish him well. Before he could question the man further, the partition slammed shut and he heard the sound of the key in the lock. The door's opening sent a wash of brightness across the room. Unaccustomed in the dim cell, he shielded his eyes against the light as he sat up.

 

 

A moment later, the door clicked shut. Senzo let his hand drop away, peering at the small figure standing quietly across the room as his vision adjusted to the gloom once more.

 

 

His visitor had suffered injury recently, judging by the awkward hang of the dark gi he wore over the sling on his right arm. Senzo took a sharp breath of realization and shied back against the wall before he could stop himself, noting the sword - the sword he'd given to Yoshida, the one that he'd told the idiot to keep away from this man - tied securely at the man's waist. He willed himself to calm; of all the reasons Himura Kenshin could be visiting him, surely it wouldn't be for the opportunity to beat him senseless inside a prison cell.

 

 

Black eyes met narrowed violet, studying the merchant with level calm as the silence stretched between them.

 

 

Eventually, Kenshin spoke, speech soft in the dim light, edged with faint mockery. "I would assume by your reaction, then, that you no longer find me endearing?”

 

 

Senzo gulped. He had said that, hadn't he? “Gomen nasai, Himura-san. It was a particularly rude thing to say, I agree, but I wasn't trying to be offens—“

 

 

“I am not here for you to try and apologise to me, Senzo,” Kenshin said steadily. “Least of all over something that hardly matters, given your other transgressions.”

 

 

The rurouni seemed polite enough; hardly the attitude he'd expect from a man prepared to draw a sword and batter him about the head and shoulders with the blunt edge. Senzo gave a faint smile, the words rolling off his tongue with an echo of his usual dry humour. “Ah, good that we can get straight to the point then, isn't it? Naturally, if I can assist you in any way I am at your service.”

 

 

“Yoshida Koujiro.”

 

 

And again, he was surprised. Senzo tilted his head, considering the man before him with puzzlement. Yoshida had hardly touched him. Why…? “I'm afraid I can't help you there,” he said aloud in careful tones. “I have no idea where he is. I've already informed the police of that.”

 

 

“I am aware of this.”

 

 

“Then…” He trailed off, perplexed. The claim was honest. Yoshida was bright; given the mess that must have greeted the man when he returned on the evening of the attack, he would have retreated into safety past Senzo's ability to find him in order to draw his own conclusions. Until Yoshida discovered for himself who had attacked and murdered his men, he would not risk showing his face to anyone.

 

 

Kenshin met his confusion with a patient look, soft words clarifying his enquiry. “I want to know if he is the type of man who carries a grudge.”

 

 

Ah. Given the nature of his question, Senzo studied him with sharp eyes, and this time noted the subtle tension in the rurouni's stance, from the set of his shoulders to the careful curl of his fingers around the edge of his sleeve. Kenshin did not want to be here; would not be, if he didn't apparently require Senzo's opinion. Curious. Surely, he's not nervous?

 

 

Whatever the reason, if Kenshin could hardly stand being in the same room with him, then Senzo's safety was almost certainly intact. He relaxed. “You know about his fight with the woman and the boy then, I assume. I'm surprised they bothered you with it.”

 

 

”That's not your concern.” Kenshin's voice was sharp. “Answer my question.”

 

 

By the faint edge to the rurouni's voice, Senzo would be willing to bet money that Kenshin hadn't found out the details from either of the combatants involved. He gave a faint smile, his sense of humour fully restored. “Well, I understand that you would be worried. As I owe you a debt, I will answer you this honestly: no. Yoshida is not the type to bear a grudge over an injury.”

 

 

Kenshin's gaze softened. “I see.”

 

 

“However…” Senzo gave an apologetic shrug as the other man shot him a narrow look. “He is the type to address anything he perceives to be a slight. From my understanding of the situation, I believe he feels quite humiliated. I assume from that manly glare of yours it was the woman who struck him?”

 

 

The words were out before he could think to control his tongue. Any remaining softness in Kenshin's expression was gone in an instant, eyes catlike in the gloom. Senzo's attempted apology stammered into silence under the intensity of that violet gaze. He cursed himself for idiocy; insulting the hitokiri Battousai and implying a threat to those under his protection in the same breath wasn't one of his better ideas.

 

 

Yet Kenshin didn't seem minded to retaliate. To the merchant's surprise, the rurouni merely turned on his heel after a moment and lifted his hand to rap against the door, signaling for the guard.

 

 

That was it?

 

 

Senzo stared; surely, after all he'd done, there was more to be said? He watched in bewilderment as quiet words were exchanged through the partition, and the door was unlocked once more. It was only as the guard pushed it open to allow Kenshin to leave that he found his voice.

 

 

“Wait!”

 

 

Kenshin paused to glance back at him, framed by the brightness of the corridor beyond.

 

 

“Himura-san…” Senzo hesitated, searching for the right words. He was hardly sure why he'd stopped the rurouni in the first place - but somehow, with the surprising abruptness of the man's visit, he found he couldn't let Kenshin go. At least, not without an attempt to justify his actions.

 

 

“It was never personal,” he said at last.

 

 

“I know,” Kenshin replied softly.

 

 

“Ah.” Another response that he hadn't expected. He wasn't sure what to say next. “Well, I'm glad,” he ventured after another moment, hesitant smile resurfacing. “After all, business is business. Had I known what Bayushi-san wanted with you—“

 

 

“You would still have sold me to him.”

 

 

With the glare of the light behind him, Kenshin's expression was unreadable, his face cast into shadow. His words were calm enough; nevertheless, Senzo felt the smallest chill of warning prick along his spine. He shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

 

 

“After all, business is business.”

 

 

“Well…” Senzo trailed off at the mocking words, peering at his hands uncertainly. “That is true, but—“

 

 

“I wonder,” Kenshin said in quiet tones, “If you will ever begin to fathom how much I despise you.”

 

 

Senzo stared in disbelief. Despise--? He gave a nervous laugh. “Come now, isn't that going a bit far? After all, I am not Yamato. Between that man and Bayushi-san, I'm quite relieved to see that you survived the experience.”

 

 

Kenshin said nothing, standing in the doorway with absolute stillness. Senzo knew he was being studied. He was almost glad he couldn't see the look on Kenshin's face, or those accusing eyes. But Kenshin hadn't turned and left; seemed quite content to listen to what he had to say. It gave him encouragement to continue. “I didn't lie to you about my own feelings on the matter. I would like to think that if we'd met under other circumstances, we could have quite enjoyed each other's—“

 

 

“We would never have been friends, Senzo.”

 

 

“But—”

 

 

“Ever.”

 

 

He shut his mouth, swallowing with sudden difficulty at the flat venom in Kenshin's voice.

 

 

“Listen to yourself,” the rurouni continued tiredly. ”Despite your apparent liking for me and concern for my welfare, what mattered to you was the money. Is that not so?”

 

 

“It's hardly as if I knew what Bayushi wanted with you!”

 

 

“Did you stop to ask? Would you have changed your plans if you did?”

 

 

And listening carefully to the edged, velvet way in which Kenshin delivered his words, Senzo had his answer. Of course the rurouni wasn't nervous about being here. Wary of a caged merchant whose tricks were already known? Unlikely. It wasn't dread that had him wanting to leave so quickly.

 

 

It was contempt.

 

 

Senzo looked away.

 

 

“As yet, I have no quarrel with Bayushi's grudge with me,” Kenshin continued. “And Yamato … was a spiteful man, but he at least acted out of a desire to avenge a man he highly revered. This is a motivation I can respect. You?” His soft, condemning voice sharpened with cool fury. “You sold me. Just like you have sold others in the past, I'd imagine.”

 

 

“Himura-san…” He stopped. Really, there was nothing he could say.

 

 

After a moment, Kenshin spoke again, voice calm and stripped of inflection. “There are words for people who sell human beings.”

 

 

“I'm—“ Senzo shot his head up, staring in disbelief as the rurouni finally moved, turning away. “You're accusing me of—“

 

 

“Should you regain your freedom,” Kenshin said in an undertone, “You would do well never to visit Tokyo again.”

 

 

“Himura—“

 

 

The door clicked shut, taking the bright light and his visitor with it.

 

 

He stared at the door for a very long time, listening to the muted sounds of the corridor long after Kenshin's sure footsteps had faded away. Then he leaned back to stretch along the bench again, gazing up at the ceiling once more. His smile was absent, humour gone; in the dark of his cell, Senzo Karanai tried to fight off the unfamiliar feeling of guilt.

 

 

He sighed. And laughed quietly, though there was no amusement to it.

 

 

Shame, really.

 

 

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He hadn't actually been there to see Senzo, to begin with. The police had requested a statement, and he was there to give it. He'd hoped for a last chance to see Bayushi; a vain hope of finding a way to settle things between them without bloodshed. If Kenshin was able to leave for home knowing the older man was more at peace with their shared history, he could at least come out of this whole ordeal with a sense of resolution.

 

 

It was unfortunate that things hadn't turned out that way, but not unexpected. If his farewell to the officer on duty had seemed slightly strained, nobody had commented on it. He smiled faintly and informed them he was returning to Tokyo the next day, and stepped back into the street with a quiet sigh of relief. The summer weather was beautiful. After so long forced to stay indoors, he relished the feel of the sunlight through the thin material of his gi.

 

 

He paused briefly in the street as Aoshi detached himself from a shadowed doorway nearby, then continued on as the taller man fell into step beside him. It seemed odd to be walking through the streets of Kyoto with this man, particularly given Aoshi's history with him and his reclusive behaviour of late. Yet this morning, Aoshi had calmly stated his intention to accompany Kenshin to the station. Apparently he had business there of his own; Kenshin chose not to pry. Best, he thought wryly, to leave that to Misao-dono.

 

 

“How did it go?”

 

 

Kenshin smiled faintly. “Bayushi-san does not wish to speak with me.”

 

 

An understatement. Bayushi had refused to see him. Any change of heart the older man had undergone in regards to his treasonous allegiance with Yamato did not extend to Kenshin himself, regardless of whatever role the rurouni may have played in Bayushi's decision. Nothing had changed between them; more than a decade of frustrated and bitter grief would not be solved with any amount of words. Truly, Kenshin had expected no less.

 

 

You owe me a death.

 

 

At the very end of life, Bayushi would still be cursing his name. He wouldn't be the only one; there were likely many others in Japan who wished for Battousai's death just as much. Kenshin would never be able to change that; had come to terms with that knowledge long ago.

 

 

But it never gets any easier, does it?

 

 

They moved on, taking the streets at a slow pace on their way back to the Aoiya. His shoulder still ached, and he moved carefully to compensate for it, Aoshi matching his step without a word of complaint. It would be weeks before he would be able to use his right arm freely; weeks, too, before Kaoru stopped watching him with concern in her eyes, almost as if she was afraid he would vanish if she didn't keep her eyes on him. It was an expression he wasn't used to seeing on others, and it warmed him almost as much as it touched him with guilt.

 

 

Thankfully, her fears would fade over time - and it wasn't as if he would have to go through this again. Senzo's drugged sake was a one-shot trick that he wasn't likely to forget soon, and the merchant was jailed in any case, as was Bayushi. As for Yamato …

 

 

He had his suspicions about Yamato; particularly when he considered Aoshi's visit to the station this morning.

 

 

Kenshin smiled idly as they walked, moving carefully to avoid others on the street. Surrounded by the bustle of market goers at noon, his next words were quiet enough - mild enough - that the only person capable of hearing him was the tall man next to him.

 

 

“I assume Yamato won't be back?”

 

 

Aoshi glanced at him sharply for a brief moment, before returning his gaze to the street ahead. Kenshin walked beside him comfortably, waiting patiently for an answer, nodding a greeting to the family passing him by.

 

 

Aoshi was silent for a long time before answering, his words soft. “Yamato … has been dealt with by the police.”

 

 

Kenshin inclined his head briefly in response, his pace never wavering. It wasn't something he'd wished on the man, despite his malice; but given Yamato's treasonous intentions so soon after Shishio's attempts at revolution, he knew it had only been a matter of time before the officer met his end one way or another. As far as Kenshin was aware, Yamato hadn't been arrested. Had he been quietly killed in an alley somewhere? I wonder, he thought suddenly, just who it was that killed him? It was a question he decided not to ask.

 

 

“Do you regret it?” Aoshi asked, unexpectedly.

 

 

He blinked at that, and gave careful thought before answering. “In some small way, I suppose. It is always a shame when the only way to deal with a man like Yamato is execution.” His voice was low. “There are other things that I regret more.”

 

 

“You shouldn't.” Kenshin glanced up at him curiously as Aoshi continued. “Bayushi Mitsuharu spent more than ten years in an impotent attempt to avenge the death of his son. For him to come to any resolution without violence, after such a length of time, would be impossible.” He paused, and then added quietly, “He did not come away from his encounter with you unchanged.”

 

 

“Aa,” Kenshin admitted. “He broke ties with Yamato. That is something to be thankful for.”

 

 

“More than that.”

 

 

More? Kenshin drew to a stop, glancing across the street at the cheerful woman on the other side. A merchant, selling her wares in an array of glorious blue and violet. [Author ID1: at Wed Apr 20 00:22:00 2005 ]

Flowers. “Aoshi—“

 

 

“He called you by name.”

 

 

He was confused for a moment. Bayushi had named him from the beginning, hadn't he? From his very first announcement of his intentions. I want you dead, Battousai. But then— Battousai wasn't his name, was it? A label, a description in one word that befitted his reputation as a merciless killer. He'd heard the name spat in anger from any number of people who came looking for his head, and he would hear it again in the future.

 

 

Bayushi had called him Himura, at the end. Certainly, Bayushi's anger with him, his need for vengeance, had not abated in the slightest. And yet … something had obviously changed.

 

 

You do a fine job of twisting perceptions, he said—

 

 

I've tired of this now, Himura.

 

 

He thought he understood, and with that understanding came a measure of sadness. Bayushi had given him that offering of respect, at the end, an admission that there was far more to Kenshin than his years as a hitokiri in the Bakumatsu. And then ordered him killed, because he could not step away from his desire for vengeance.

 

 

Does it make a difference?

 

 

Kenshin smiled.

 

 

“Misao-dono told me,” he said, “that when you came to the estate, you were holding back.”

 

 

Aoshi hesitated, before giving a careful nod. “Aa.”

 

 

Kenshin let out a breath, his gaze still on the flower-seller.

 

 

His kidnapping had begun with Senzo's flowers. For Tanabata, for Kaoru; a mark of his care for her, even if he chose to keep his distance. Instead, he had never come home - and certainly, he hadn't managed to bring home his intended gift.

 

 

Kaoru had brought the sakabatou from Tokyo.

 

 

His hand settled easily down on the hilt. She'd carried his sword across the country, and belted it at her own waist when she scaled the walls of Bayushi's estate with the intended purpose of bringing it back to his hand. She had even, according to Misao, challenged Aoshi for the right to do so.

 

 

He knew what that meant, far beyond the simple act of bringing a valued possession back to him. Kenshin's smile widened. Senzo's flowers were a work of art. But in the end…

 

 

In the end, he suspected she would prefer the real thing.

 

 

“Arigatou,” he said quietly to Aoshi. “For everything.”

 

 

And then he crossed the street.

 

 

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-Fin-

 

 

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…

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…

 

 

So, there you have it…it took me a lot longer than I thought it would to get to this point, considering when I began I was updating every other day. Of course, as I kept going (and got less shy) everything took so much longer.

 

I really hope you enjoyed it, guys. I was incredibly happy when I managed to struggle to the end of this chapter - it's HARD to finish these things - and a bit sad, too… so I really hope it passes muster.

 

Now.

 

I'll be uploading one more chapter after this, although the story is done with. It's the extended omake and author's notes - I really want the fun of parodying the entire story, after all … but if you have any questions you want answered, now's the time to ask them. I'll answer everything in the next update - if you're confused as to why Aoshi behaved the way he did, or how Kenshin knew about Yoshida (and Yoshida, I'll be explaining further as well), or even what the deal with the ninja attack way back at Ch 17 was … ::snicker:: …or any other thing, I'll gladly explain anything I can. Naturally, you can avoid the next one entirely if you want to. [I've already uploaded Chapter 29 at fanfiction.net, but I'm willing to answer more questions from the mediaminer crew if you have them. ^_^]

 

Thank you to all those who reviewed, particularly the FFARG reviewers and of course Bakachuu. I'd be more eloquent, but currently I'm suffering from some serious neck strain and want to just go and lie down…

 

 

Next chapter: …. Oh. ::bursts into tears::

 

… Well, next update, my thank yous, explanations, and mad attempts to make you giggle. It's eminently skippable, so if you see another TJ post come up in your alerts and aren't interested, then just don't click the link. XD

 

For the rest of you who don't look at the next update - thank you all so very much for reading! And just this once, if you've never reviewed before - do it now! Because I want to see who's been reading, dammit!

 

I'm going to miss this story.

 

-exeunt-