Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
25: Hurry
~*~
"Kenshin," Kaoru tugged on his sleeve anxiously, like a
little child seeking attention, "Hurry up! We're going to be late!"
He smiled at her, because she was smiling despite her small fears. "It's all
right. We have plenty of time."
"Iie!" she disagreed. "We have to hurry!"
Hurry. Go faster. Fast, but silent. Noise is unnecessary.
Faster. Silent.
Deadly.
Noise can get a man killed.
Go faster.
"Hurry up! Move it!" his voice seemed silent in his own
ear over the roar of his surroundings, but the men nearby caught his words and
hesitantly followed. He had never been one to lead a group, but Katsura had
given him a duty, and he would perform it until his release from service.
The men he commanded were not very good at following orders, sometimes. "I
said hurry," he growled sharply, not to scare them, but to make them understand.
Haste was a priority. They had to get out of there.
The enemies they faced had guns with them; guns, and by the gods he
could have sworn he had seen a cannon as well, and they were armed with nothing
but swords, and they had to regroup with the others before they were noticed by
the Shogunate's warriors, before their enemies realized that they were alone and
isolated and perfect targets.
'The cannon I may be able to take down,' he calculated the
distance hurriedly, as his men shuffled past - quickly - 'But only if
I were alone. I can't take that risk... leaving them could result in their
deaths.'
'I won't be responsible for that. It will not happen.'
'But only if we go faster...'
The sounds of gunshots were growing closer, the speed of their assailants
catching him off guard for a moment. He waved a hand for the men to keep moving,
faster, faster, he'll catch up in a moment, he's going to take down the scout
before their position is betrayed, and the man is dead, his body falling
headless to the ground, blood staining his katana, and the men have stopped to
watch, those idiots, keep moving, faster, faster...
The cannon went off.
He felt his blood thrumming wetly in his ears when he landed, unable to get
his feet underneath him, instead curling his body to regulate the impact. His
katana was closeby, still in the sheath, its hilt bloody, the tsuba somehow torn
apart. He reached for it, rolling away as another body fell where he had lay,
and regret filled his eyes as he recognized the figure beside him as one of his
own. He looked back to the forest outskirts, his cat-quick eyes seeking any
living man. Most of them were down, a few scrambling to their feet, blood oozing
out of the shrapnel wounds they had taken. He shouted an order, waving for them
to continue moving, to grab their living comrades and run for the main group.
'If I were alone...'
They hesitated, and he cursed, rushing towards them, shoving the katana
through his hakama ties. He shot past them, winding a path through the maze of
trees, slowing down only so the survivors could catch up. They were straggling
behind, and they were slow, so damn slow, and they would all be dead in a
moment if they didn't hurry, there was a cannon for kami's sake, didn't
they understand, they were dead, all dead, if they didn't move quickly...
'If I were alone...'
Another man stumbled, and before the others reached out to help him up, he
grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him to his feet, his free arm curving
around the man's body and dragging him forward, ignoring the groans and
protests. There was no time for gentleness, no time for compassion, only enough
time to run and barely survive, and they had to hurry now, they had to
get out now, or time would run out, and what did pain mean if you were
dead?
His head snapped alert at the sound of a familiar voice, somehow rising above
the gunshots. Takasugi-san was there, his sword raised, and his men were
charging, their voices a great roar, like the wave of the ocean crashing against
the rocks, and they were a wave as they collided with the Shogun's
warriors, weapons raised and slashing, carving a way towards the commanders,
creating a great, violent distraction.
He kept moving, calling for the others to join the fighting or seek refuge
behind those who could, then he handed his burden to another and charged,
unsheathing his sword and raising his own voice to the wind, in challenge, in
anger, in sorrow for the men who had died under his command, and the men who
were going to die as soon as he reached them.
'If I were alone...'
'... it would be so much faster...'
'... a hitokiri... always works alone...'
"Kenshin, hurry!" Her voice was so insistent, so urgent,
that he really could not hold back his smile. The smile made her pout a little,
as if he were laughing at a joke made at her expense, and it went by her
unappreciated. "Mou!"
"It's all right," he repeated, his voice gentle and
soothing, "We're not going to be late, so there's no reason to rush. Let's slow
down and enjoy the wind."
"The wind?" she repeated, puzzled. He often made strange
requests, but sometimes she had to question him.
He chuckled, giving her a brief nod. "Aa. The wind... it is so calm today. I
feel as if nothing could be swept away by it; the world could remain in place
forever, and no one could force it to move. I like to follow the wind's example,
sometimes."
She frowned at him for a long moment, her eyes turning impatiently to the
sun. Finally she sighed, and took his hand instead of his sleeve, moving to walk
beside him and match his slow, easy pace. "Okay," she said quietly, "We'll
follow the wind then."
"Arigato," he murmured into her ear. She merely smiled,
squeezing his hand in her own, and they walked on, the sun setting slowly -
slowly - at their backs.
~*~
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