Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Ai Yai Yai: A Modern Romantic Story ❯ God Hunter ( Chapter 4 )

God, I'm so sorry that this took so long to update!! Apparently I am going to be out of town for three weeks, starting on the 6th of July (I know, no one tells me anything!!). Because of this sudden change of plans, my summer will be unfortunately busy and therefore I have decided that it's only fair to you as the readers to post two chapters instead of one before I leave town so at least you won't have to wait too long… again, I apologize that I won't be able to update for a while, but I hope this is enough to keep you satiated for a while!!

Recap:

Tomoe, I've lost you. Now I understand the depth of your suffering, your loneliness. You were living with a pain like this. It must have been hard for you… You must have hated me; I wasn't able to protect you. But in the end, you protected me. You allowed me to live, maybe even at the cost of your life. But now are you free from your pain? I will continue to shoulder this burden. It will serve as my atonement for what I did to you. For all the people who died protecting me, and those whom I have killed. It will be difficult, but I will be all right. I have lived a hard life, but I will always remember the warmth of your love… I will... live on…

Chapter 4

 

God Hunter

 

Thank you to

Princess-in-Training, happyloveygirl,

goldenP, and Jessica_Rabbit21 for reviewing

 

-I-

Agent Sagara straightened the collar of his tuxedo, the ornately carved doors of the ballroom towering over him like an overprotective mother. Music from inside floated through the cracks of the doors, but the calming melody only served to fry his already edgy nerves. Sighing heavily, he nodded to the doorman, clearing his throat while touching a hand nonchalantly to his chest. He felt a breeze rustle his hair and he did not look up to see if the shadow that had darted over him had caught the attention of the doorman. He knew it hadn't.

The door opened slowly, as if it had not been in working order for a long time, though it made no noise whatsoever. Sagara was almost surprised when he was not hit with a faceful of dusts and cobwebs, but instead a wave of music, tinkling glasses and rich laughter. He tried to keep the scowl off his face as he surveyed the frescoed ceiling (newly refurbished), cherubs with rosy cheeks and tiny disproportionate wings that seemed to only barely keep them afloat dotted the pastel clouds. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, each glittering jewel laughing mercilessly under the fake candles that hid between them. Sagara wondered how much had been spent on the chandelier and ceiling alone, not to mention the balcony and two grand stairways, each banister held up by carved wooden vines that held tiny roses between their thorns and ornate leaves. It was sickening.

He did not let his attention stray long enough to seem like he was actually admiring anything, and he strolled over to a lonely table overshadowed by the balcony. The only light was provided by the decorative, and therefore small, candle in the center. Glancing down at his watch, he looked up again and sighed. He had weighed the possibilities of why someone this high up in the military would want to speak with him, especially seeing as how he seemed to have closer ties with many of the people on the other side of the law. He spoke quietly, as if to no one in particular, “The guards are armed. Don't try anything rash. We're not here to fight… not yet anyways.” Turning the volume down on his wire he leaned back in his chair and balanced on the two back legs, almost losing his balance as a voice floated into his hearing.

“Otou-sama will see you now,” Agent Sagara stood up quickly, jutting out a clumsy hand to stop the chair from falling. A woman sat in the once-vacant chair across from him wearing a red dress trimmed with green geometric triangles that billowed to the ground and seemed to be slipping fashionably off of her shoulders, held up only by a large purple sash and her generous bosom. Her hair was such a deep black that it almost seemed purple and her dark eyes and lipstick against her milk-white skin only made her look all the more ethereal. There was a strange coldness about her that he had only felt once before, almost ten years ago.

Shaking the amber eyes that penetrated his mind like a knife out of his head, he stood silently and followed the woman, eyes trailing after her flowing dress like a path of fresh blood. She passed through a small, unimpressive doorway that drew no attention to even the most attentive and retrieved a candelabra that had been resting in a niche just inside the door. The candles were black, and they cast only a small sphere of light onto the dark floor. Agent Sagara adjusted his tiny earpiece unconsciously, but said nothing. Their footsteps echoed eerily back to them from the darkness.

Finally the candles stopped at a door with a sliver of light beneath it. Sagara saw the woman pull something from her sleeve and heard the click of a key in a door. The dim light flooded out into the corridor, illuminating it in pale shades of grey and shadows. He placed a hand on his waist and heard the hidden gun clink softly, reassuringly. She motioned for him to go in before her, and his hairs bristled as he felt her breath on the back of his neck as he walked past. It was cold.

“Sanosuke Sagara. Age 26. Member of Covert Ops, Unit 3. Captain.” The room was filled with shadows that seemed to lazily block out the light so that the air was a hazy blur. It was filled with plush armchairs covered with crushed velvet in deep shades of maroon, their shadows melding with the walls to give the impression that the darkness went on forever. In one of these chairs sat a man, his face obscured even in such a small space. He held a sleek cigarette holder that in turn grasped to an elegant cigarette giving off a trail of smoke that swirled and twisted in a sickeningly snake-like existence. Long sleeves of what looked like an elegant coat-robe of sorts covered his hands and its high collar almost brushed his ears.

Sagara held back a growl as the man spoke again, “Impressive for someone so young,” His voice whispered, a raspy tone laced with honey, “tell me, how is it that you have gotten so far in such a short time? Is it perhaps… because of an unexpected, but suspiciously convenient death?” Sagara made to lunge, but a pair of strong delicate hands grasped onto his wrist, nails finding skin.

“It is not wise to anger those who seek to help you,” The woman spoke quietly, “God Hunter.” Sagara stopped fighting to get out of her grasp as she said this, but pulled back from her all the same. God Hunter…Sozo would have been 34 this month. He hadn't killed his brother. It wasn't his fault. And yet it had come down to one split second decision that he would hate his brother for for the rest of his life. Two lieutenants, vying for the position of unit captain, and one unsightly, unexplained death that boosted one to fortune and left the other six feet in his dust.

-II-

The troops had surrounded the hotel. There was no way he was getting out. Unit 3 had been assigned to the simple mission of retrieving him and in turn taking the fame that came with the capture of the most wanted man in the world. The Battousai was finally theirs. First and Second Lieutenants Sagara Sozo and Sagara Sanosuke prepared to lead their two nine-man battalions into the hotel through inconspicuous entrances.

“Captain,” The older Sagara urged, “Go with Second Lieutenant Sagara, I can take this mission on my own!” The Captain sighed, smiling slightly. He knew what the First Lieutenant wanted: a chance to show the old Captain how well he could replace him. It made sense too, since he was competing with a brother eight years his junior who was only a rank below him. It was almost unthinkable that a 26 year-old, not to mention a 17 year-old could rise so high, but these boys were trained, no expected, to do the impossible. He shook his head, “First Lieutenant Sagara, I'll honor your opinion because I think you can handle it. You and you're battalion will go out alone. Don't prove me wrong.” Despite the Second Lieutenant's obvious disapproval at his choice to let his older brother go alone, the Captain set out with the Second Battalion.

Upon entering the hotel, they found it deadly quiet. All of the men were on the alert for the slightest movement or sound. Nothing came. Clearing through their half of the rooms, they checked in with the other battalion to see how they were progressing. When the First Lieutenant did not respond, the Captain made the decision to find their battalion. Everyone was beginning to become nervous. Something wasn't right.

Making their way down to the main hall, Second Lieutenant Sagara felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as if someone was watching him from behind. The elevator dinged in the darkness. As it opened, the light from the elevator interior flooded out into the cold hallway and from the light came a man. His hair was red and pulled into a high ponytail to keep its length out of the wearer's amber eyes. Those eyes froze Sagara in his tracks. He heard a gun rise behind him.

“Freeze, Battousai.” The Captain ordered coldly. He would have known the man before him anywhere. Those eyes were unmistakably him. The Battousai glanced coldly at the Captain before holding something up. In the dim light cast by the elevator, it was hard to see what it was. Then, in horror, the Second Lieutenant let out a cry; the head of his brother hung by his hair in the cold hands of this killer. “Let it be a lesson for those who stand in the way of my destiny,” The Battousai's voice did not fluctuate, or show emotion at all, but the strength he resonated was warning enough.

It was all over the news for months, how the military had had the wanted killer at their fingertips, and how he had easily slipped past them, leaving ten dead including a civilian that was rumored to be connected with the Yakuza and a few political figures high up in the government. The Captain resigned, swearing that he should have quit sooner. The Second Lieutenant took his place, and life went on.

Over time Sagara Sanosuke earned the name “God Hunter” after how many of the most wanted men he and his Unit put out. The most illusive of killers though, always seemed beyond his reach. His nickname taunted him with a prize that was the only thing the doer of impossible could not make possible once more; the one God who seemed to smite his efforts like a punishment for his sad existence. And when the Battousai vanished, there was no celebrating in Unit 3.

-III-

“Undoubtedly, you have heard about the return of the Battousai.” The man ground his cigarette into an ashtray, the embers flaring before dying. When Sagara made no response, the man that Sagara assumed was named “Otou-sama” went on. “And so I have decided to send someone to…terminate him.”

“Why not one of your own?” Sagara asked suspiciously, starting to feel like he shouldn't have come to this meeting at all. The man's mouth twisted up into a smile, “Battousai was one of us. He knows how we work. We needed a fresh face.” More like someone easily replaceable… Sagara thought, but he kept his mouth shut. He thought of the moldy apartment and the overdue bills lying forgotten on the kitchen table. He needed this.

“How much does it pay?” he asked suddenly. Otou-sama chuckled softly. “¥50,000,000 and a guaranteed promotion.” Otou-sama lit another cigarette, inhaling heavily before letting the billowing smoke escape from its cage. “But that's if you bring him to me. Alive.”

“And if I accidentally kill him?”

“Just try to restrain yourself.”

-IV-

Captain Sagara Sanosuke walked out through those giant doors into the cold night. He stood there for a minute or two and savored the nervous feeling leaving his body. Feeling exhilarated and new, he knew that this was what he lived for. This time, he thought with resolution, He's not going to walk away from me. Not this time. Looking down, he sighed at the piece of paper clenched in his hands. The plane ticket read:

Departure: Tokyo International Airport, 3:45 P.M. December 23

Arrival: LAX, 8:03 P.M. December 24

Sagara Sanosuke

Flight 219, row 28, seat B.

Los Angeles? Battousai was in America? He scowled as he surveyed the plane ticket before flipping it over to see an address of sorts scrawled on the back. It was somewhere in “Little Tokyo.” He laughed at the irony. “I guess this Tokyo won't be big enough for the both of us anymore.” Looking at the plane ticket once more before slipping it into his pocket, he turned up his earpiece. “Let's move out guys, we're done here.” Flipping the “off” switch as he walked towards the van he told no one in particular, “He didn't get me a window seat…” Shaking his head, he slid the door of the van open as the door of his past began to close.

-V-

Otou-sama smiled as the door closed behind him. “Yumi, our little dog has left some things for us to clean up. Get Hoji to sweep the room, there are at least three listening devices in here.” Yumi bowed and made to go, but the man interrupted her, “And Yumi…” She raised her head, “Yes, Otou-sama?”

“Make sure to inform Soujiro that next time he kills someone, to make sure that they're all the way dead.”

“Yes, Otou-sama.”

 

Glossary

Sagara Sozo and Sagara Sanosuke-The use of the last name before the first is normally how people are referred to in Japan.

Sagara Sozo- the name of Sanosuke's captain (of the Sekihou Army) in the Rurouni Kenshin manga

¥50,000,000- approximately $500,000

Author Notes

I really hope I get a window seat on the airplane I'm flying on for six hours… ;__; meh. Anyways, I hope to be back and updating as soon as physically possible! Hang in there until then please (and review while I'm gone so I come home to a bunch of comments to spur me onwards!!!)

Question(s) from last chapter:

Does White Plum reappear? Hmm. You'll just have to keep reading now won't you?