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Descent into Madness: Chapter 9

by Conspirator

Kenshin had now been in Kyoto nearly two weeks and in that time had seen and experienced many new things, but nothing had quite prepared him for breakfast this particular morning. He had arrived at the shrine that was a safe house shortly after dawn, along with the family he had saved from assassination, and now he found himself invited to share a meal with the monks. He himself was temporarily wearing a monk’s robe, since his own clothes had needed immediate washing, and although Toshiro had said it was the smallest they had, it still puddled around his feet and hung down way past his hands. Now he watched the monks at their devotions before partaking of their spartan meal of thin soup and rice. It was all very strange, yet calming in its own way. One of the monks seemed to be quite young, perhaps in his early ‘20s, and considering the turbulent times in which they lived, Kenshin wondered what had led him to choose the path of Buddha.

When Toshiro suggested that he stay a little longer to catch up on his sleep, however, he declined. He was anxious to get back to the inn and let Iizuka know that the family he had been entrusted with was safe. Unfortunately, his clothes were not dry, and he couldn’t walk through town in an oversized monk’s robe, so Toshiro sent one of the monks out to borrow some smaller clothes from a nearby family. What the monk brought back was still ill-fitting, but it was better than nothing. The hat that came with the clothes, however, had definitely seen better days—it looked as if it had been partially eaten by a goat. All in all, Kenshin looked like a beggar, complete with his bundle of wet clothes, except that he had two swords tucked into his belt.

It was mid-morning by the time he arrived back at the inn. The few men who were around smirked at the sight of the bedraggled boy, but Kenshin just ignored them and headed for Iizuka’s room. Iizuka, however, had not yet returned, so he slowly climbed the stairs to his own room. He was starting to feel the effects of little sleep and much exertion. To his surprise, he found someone else’s belongings in a neat pile in one corner of his room. There was a note on top from Yoshida.

"We all have to double up in our rooms," the note read, "because of all the new men who are arriving. I figured if someone was going to have to room with you, it might as well be me. —Yoshida."

Kenshin let out a soft chuckle at his friend’s thoughtfulness, then went to hang up his wet clothes by the window. He was dead tired—exhausted, in fact—and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. He hadn’t used his futon in several days, having slept sitting up most times, but now he unrolled it and flopped himself down, not even bothering to change his clothes. He was out like a light.

He had intended only to take a short nap until lunchtime, but when he awoke, he noted that the sun was way over in the west—late afternoon, he guessed. He saw a tray of food sitting just inside his door (‘Okami looking out for me again,’ he smiled), but he left it for later. Instead, he quickly changed into his own clothes and ran downstairs to find Iizuka to give his report.

"Well, the sleeping beauty arises," Iizuka commented wryly as Kenshin entered his room.

"Iizuka!" yelped an embarrassed Kenshin.

"Just kidding, just kidding," Iizuka laughed, holding his hands up in mock fear. "So, I hear you got the Kaminaga family to the shrine safely."

"How did you know?" Kenshin asked in surprise.

"Oh, the monks managed to get a message to us," he answered breezily. "And Shinzu managed to get Kaminaga-san himself to safety as well. Today Kaminaga paraded himself prominently downtown by the Imperial Palace—with me and Shinzu in attendance, of course—just to let the Bakufu know they had failed. You ran into trouble, though."

"How did you know that?" Kenshin asked, once again surprised by Iizuka’s knowledge.

"Five bodies sprawled on a street," he answered bluntly.

"We had barely left the house when they came," Kenshin explained. "I managed to get the lady and her children around a corner and into a doorway. Then I took care of the men pursuing us."

"Yeah, I’ll say you did!" Iizuka laughed. "It took us awhile to beat off the squad that was attacking the main house. By the time we checked around back, all we saw was blood—the Mimiwarigumi must have gotten there first and taken away the bodies. At the time, we didn’t know if the blood was from you or from them. It was while we were downtown that we heard about the five dead men. They could tell it was just one man who killed them all, you know. So you want to know how they’re explaining what happened? They’re saying it was done by the battousai of the Ishin Shishi!"

"The what?" Kenshin asked.

"The battousai—you know, a master of battoujutsu—you! Now they’re really scared! That was some calling card you left!"

Calling card? Iizuka made it sound so casual. Five men dead, and he just thinks of it as a calling card. Strangely, though, it didn’t bother Kenshin all that much. He was becoming numb.

"So what happens now to the lady and her children?" Kenshin asked, pushing thoughts of the dead men from his mind.

"I imagine the monks will spirit them off to Chousu or something," he replied. You ought to ask Katsura—he’s expected back sometime this evening."

‘I really do feel numb,’ Kenshin thought as he left Iizuka. It wasn’t just that he felt numb about killing five men, it was that he felt numb about everything. He felt nothing—no joy, no sorrow, no happiness, no sadness—about anything. He wished he could go visit Kumiko right away to make himself feel better, but it was too late in the day for that. He wished he could wander down by the river to be comforted by its gentle sounds, but a cold, raw rain had started—a reminder that winter was not far off. Instead, he went back to his room and stared out the window as he ate what Okami had left for him on the tray.

Not long after, Yoshida came back from his day’s duties. Kenshin greeted him, but without much enthusiasm.

"Hey, hail the conquering hero and all that!" Yoshida said heartily, despite Kenshin’s seeming lack of spirit.

"Yeah, right," Kenshin responded.

"Hey, what’s wrong? Still tired? I know they rousted you out of bed pretty early this morning."

"It was a rough assignment," Kenshin replied.

"I heard," Yoshida commented as he shook the rain from his haori. "Five guys you got, huh?"

"Yes."

"They attacked you, though."

"Yes," Kenshin said. "And all I feel is numb."

"Well, Shinzu sure doesn’t feel numb," Yoshida said. "He got to save the big man, but you got all the glory, and boy, is he steamed about it!"

"Just what I need," Kenshin said glumly.

"You know what I think of that guy?" Yoshida asked. He went to his pile of belongings and pulled out a piece of paper, a brush, and an inkstone. Kenshin watched as he prepared some ink and started drawing a picture.

"I didn’t know you were an artist," Kenshin said, intrigued.

"I’m not—I do caricatures. Just watch."

As Kenshin watched, Yoshida drew a horse whose rear end was in the foreground. As Yoshida started drawing the tail, Kenshin noted that it looked like a samurai’s topknot. Then, in two deft brush strokes, Yoshida placed on the horse’s rear haunches a mustache that looked suspiciously like the trademark mustache of Shinzu Tora. Kenshin couldn’t help keeping a tiny hint of a smile from creeping onto his face.

"Ever write any haiku?" Yoshida asked.

"Not much," Kenshin answered. "Why?"

"Well, here’s the finishing touch," Yoshida winked. Then he wrote:

A samurai’s soul.

A horse’s nobility.

They meet in the end.

"I’ll never look at Shinzu Tora the same way again," Kenshin grinned. Then he broke out into his first real laughter in weeks.

At dinner, the two sat together, both having a hard time keeping a straight face every time they caught sight of Shinzu, who just glared back at them. They only managed to control themselves when Yoshida’s friend Tanaka came to sit with them part-way through the meal. Yoshida tensed up as the man sat down.

"You’re giving up Sato’s company?" Yoshida asked rather impolitely.

"Come on, Yoshida, lighten up," Tanaka said. "You know what Sato’s problem is, and I can’t say as I blame him. If your father had been killed by a…." He paused, looked at Kenshin, then reconsidered his words. "I mean, if you felt as strongly as he does….well, you know what I mean."

"So what brings you to our table, then?" Yoshida asked.

"I value your friendship, that’s all, and I wanted your young friend here to know I don’t have any bad feelings towards him myself." He bowed slightly to Kenshin, who bowed back. "But if Sato gets transferred, I plan to go with him. We’ve been buddies since we were kids, and there’s no sense splitting up now. It’s nothing personal, that’s all."

Yoshida nodded in acknowledgement. Then Tanaka left to rejoin Sato.

Kenshin’s face clouded over. "It’s not right for me to come between your friends like this," he said as he moved to get up.

Yoshida pushed him down again. "Kid, you’re not coming between us. We knew each other when we were little, sure, but I was gone six years. People change—I know I sure did. In six years, you’ll be different, too. If you’re lucky, the changes will all be for the best."

Kenshin could only hope he was right, because the changes he felt in himself after only two weeks were tearing his heart out.

Dinner was winding down when Katsura and his men arrived. Katsura strode into the dining room, and cheers erupted from the men. He was somewhat dirty and disheveled from traveling, but he still went around shaking hands and saying a few words to each and every man. Kenshin noted that he said more than a few words to Shinzu, who broke out into a wide, self-satisfied smile at what was said. Finally, Katsura made his way over to the far side of the room, where Yoshida and Kenshin were sitting. He shook hands and chatted briefly with Yoshida, then shook Kenshin’s hand. As he did, he said, "Come find me after breakfast tomorrow." Kenshin bowed in acknowledgement. Then Katsura left to iron out room assignments with Okami.

"That guy sure knows how to work the men," Yoshida said admiringly. "He’s got us eating out of the palm of his hand."

There wasn’t much to do after dinner, especially since it was still raining, so Kenshin sat and listened as some of the men entertained themselves by singing bawdy songs. ‘Some of these lyrics would make Hiko blush!’ he thought to himself as he started to nod off. A short while later, he was startled awake by a tap on the shoulder. He instinctively grabbed for his sword, but he saw that it was only Yoshida. Why was he getting so jumpy all of a sudden, he wondered? "You’ll sleep better upstairs," Yoshida pointed out, so Kenshin retired for the night.

He did not sleep soundly, however. His mind insisted on playing and replaying the events of his early-morning mission until he could no longer stand to watch himself kill the five attackers. Then the dream transformed the child he had carried on his back into an enemy, and in his dream he beheaded her. Her mother’s wails of grief sounded just like the cries he had heard when he killed the Bakufu supply chief in the man’s own house. He must have cried out in his sleep because when he awoke, shaking and drenched in sweat, Yoshida was hovering over him.

"What happened?" Yoshida asked worriedly. He looked all around the room, checking to make sure they weren’t under attack or something. "There’s no one here, everything’s ok. Calm down, kid!"

It took Kenshin a moment to realize that he was awake, that it had all been a dream. "I’m sorry," he mumbled. "I had a horrible dream…I’m sorry…I…." He clutched his head in his hands as if trying to squeeze the memory out of his brain.

Yoshida went over to his things and grabbed a small flask. He held it out to Kenshin and said, "Here, take a swig. It’s sake. It’ll help calm you down."

Kenshin took the flask gratefully and took a long sip. He felt the burning sensation as it slid down his throat, then waited as the expected warmth spread to his hands and feet. "Thanks," he said as the tension started to dissipate.

After about 15 minutes, he felt calm enough to try to sleep again, but this time he decided to sit in the corner, sword propped on his shoulder. He didn’t know what it would accomplish, but somehow he thought maybe this way he could ward off any more bad dreams. Maybe it worked, for he managed to sleep the rest of the night undisturbed.

For the first time in days, he awoke with the sun and decided to go help in the kitchen. Okami was in a frenzy. Without even an ‘Ohayou,’ she said, "Himura-chan, thank the gods you’re here!" Then she thrust two buckets into his hands and pushed him out the door to the well. When he returned with the buckets, she handed him a knife and a huge pile of fruit and vegetables to chop. Kishi and Yuka were already at work making soup and stirring the rice, while Okami raced around cooking eggs and fish and muttering under her breath about all the extra men she had to feed. Yuka, meanwhile, kept giving Kenshin looks of unabashed adoration while Kishi started trying to flirt with him again. He had to remind her more than once that he really wasn’t interested. It was driving him crazy.

Worst of all, however, was when Kishi accidently bumped into him, causing him to nick himself with the knife. It was just a tiny cut, but it caused his finger to bleed. He stopped, transfixed, as a vision of his bloodied hands from the battle earlier that morning came before his eyes. He dropped the knife and hurriedly wiped his hands on a towel, but all he could see was the vision of his bloodied hands. He wiped his hands again and again, but still the vision would not go away. Finally, he went to the washroom off the kitchen and rinsed his hands until finally the vision stopped. He went back to his chopping, but the rhythm of the work, which he used to find so relaxing, now set his nerves on edge. He really needed that visit to Kumiko to help him calm down!

Breakfast was positively claustrophobic, what with the six men Shinzu had brought with him and the ten men that came with Katsura all squeezed in with the twenty who already were living at the inn. Grunts of men eating mingled with the yelps of men being elbowed accidently as someone would pick up a teacup or reach for a bowl. Shinzu, Katsura, and Katsura’s second-in-command, Katagai, were nowhere in sight, however. Kenshin heard one of the men say something about them having a private breakfast meeting. That was fine with him—the less he saw of Shinzu, the happier he was.

When breakfast was over, he went to find Katsura, but the meeting with Shinzu was still going on, so he waited out in the courtyard. After the previous night’s rain, the morning air felt pleasingly brisk and smelled like it had been freshly cleaned. It would be a good day to go out to the meadow and practice his kata, he thought.

After about half an hour of waiting, he saw Shinzu leave the meeting room, so he went to knock at the doorway. Katsura waved him right in.

"Konnichi-wa, Katsura-san," Kenshin said, greeting him formally and bowing low.

"Himura!" Katsura said, smiling and standing to greet him. "Looks like you’ve gotten a bit taller since I was here two weeks ago!"

Kenshin stood up, somewhat flustered. He hadn’t expected any comments about his appearance, but now that Katsura mentioned it, he did notice that his hand-me-down green gi wasn’t hanging quite so much beyond his fingers as it used to. "I guess I’m growing," he managed to respond.

"And your voice has gotten a bit lower as well," Katsura noted with a knowing smile.

Well, now that he mentioned it, Kenshin realized his voice hadn’t been cracking all that much anymore. Maybe he was over the worst of it? "Um, well, my voice seems to be changing," he mumbled.

Katsura motioned for Kenshin to sit down. Then he said, "Are you handling your job all right?"

Kenshin looked at him, trying to figure out what he meant. "You mean doing my missions? Yes, I’ve managed to do them." "I know that, and I’m very pleased with the work you’ve done," Katsura said, "but are you coping all right with the aftermath?"

The aftermath? Kenshin looked down at his hands, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. How could he tell this man, the leader of the Chousu Ishin Shishi, that the aftermath was eating him up, disturbing his sleep, robbing him of all feeling? "I’m learning," he finally said in a quiet voice.

Katsura’s eyes bored into Kenshin, trying to divine what was going on in Kenshin’s mind. Kenshin, however, was too good at masking his own ki, and Katsura had trouble reading him. When Kenshin looked up briefly, however, Katsura noted a fleeting look of sadness in the boy’s eyes before they changed to a look of determination.

"I understand you’ve had a bit of a problem with Shinzu Tora," Katsura said, changing the subject." Kenshin opened his mouth to say something, but Katsura held up his hand. "You don’t have to explain yourself. One of my men saw what happened that day he challenged you, and I must say you handled yourself commendably. Shinzu’s a fine, fine swordsman—one of the best I’ve seen—and he’s from a very prominent Chousu family. He’s got a bit of an ego…" —Katsura smirked and raised his eyebrow as he said it— "…but he seems to inspire quite a bit of loyalty from many of the men. The Ishin Shishi plan to establish a presence in Edo, and I’m sending the six men he brought from Chousu plus ten men from this inn to Edo to do the job, with him in command. They leave tomorrow."

"Aah," was all Kenshin said, but inside he was jumping for joy. He just hoped Yoshida wouldn’t be one of the ten.

"Frankly, the fact that we’re ready to establish that presence so soon is entirely due to your services," Katsura continued. "Because of the work you’ve done already, things are moving along much faster than we expected. We are very pleased."

This brought to mind the question that had been bothering Kenshin ever since Shinzu’s comment about hitokiris lasting only three months.

"Katsura-san, may I ask, how long do you think you’ll need me to do this job?"

Katsura hadn’t expected a question like that; he looked pensive. Then he said, "That’s really hard to say. All war is a gamble, and we’re gambling that with what you’re doing for us, combined with continuing attacks on munitions and supply lines and Bakufu supporters, we’ll be able to destabilize the Bakufu government enough by spring that the emperor will be able to assert complete control. And that, my friend, will be the end of the Shogunate. But that’s if we’re successful and if they don’t find some way to defeat us and if we can keep some of the more radical Ishin Shishi factions from doing something stupid."

Kenshin was staring at his hands again. That was a lot of ‘ifs.’

"Believe me," Katsura said gently, "none of us enjoys the thought of sending you out to do what we’ve asked you to do. We all hope it won’t have to go on for too long. In the meantime, you’ve got a roof over your head, Okami is looking out for you—she chewed me out last night over you!—and it looks like you’re settling in pretty well. I’m leaving Katagai here as commander for awhile, so I’m sure things will calm down nicely. Keep up the good work."

"Hai," Kenshin said. "Thank you, Katsura-san." Then he bowed and left the room.

Spring. Katsura had said things might take until spring. Kenshin had thought maybe he’d have to do his job for just a few weeks, but Katsura was talking about six months! Well, he’d just have to buck up and find a way to survive until spring, that’s all.

Before the meeting, he had been trying to decide which to do first—practice his kata or visit Kumiko—but now he decided to definitely visit Kumiko first. He knew he’d enjoy his kata more with a light heart, and right now his heart felt like lead. As he left the inn to head toward Gion, Iizuka caught up with him.

"Where’re you headed?" Iizuka asked as he walked alongside Kenshin.

The last thing Kenshin wanted to tell him was Gion, so he said merely, "Just down to the river to wander a bit."

"Mind if I walk part-way with you?"

Kenshin nodded. He didn’t really want any company, but he couldn’t quite say no.

"You heard Katagai’s taking over command of our group?" Iizuka asked.

"Katsura-san told me," Kenshin said.

"Well, that’s a load off my mind, let me tell you!" Iizuka said. "Intelligence and supplies, that’s what I’m good at, not this nursemaid business to twenty guys with egos!"

"You didn’t want to be acting commander?" Kenshin asked, somewhat surprised.

"Are you kidding? I don’t want the responsibility. All I want is to get through this in one piece and on the winning side."

"What do you mean?" Kenshin asked.

"Listen, I’m the second son of a second son," Iizuka explained. "My family may be samurai, but we’re as poor as dirt. When my father goes, my brother’ll get nothing, and I’ll get less than nothing. Merchant is where the money is, and I’d be damned good at it. Ever hear of a samurai merchant, though? Of course not—can’t do it under this god-damned system! But when this war is over, I’ll be positioned just where I want to be because I’ll have fought for the winning side. Like I always say, you take what life gives you and work it to your own advantage, and that’s exactly what I intend to do."

"And what if it ends up you’ve been on the losing side?" Kenshin asked. It was possible, after all….

Iizuka snorted. "Not a chance. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m on the winning side! Well, here’s where I turn off." And with that, he gave a quick wave and disappeared down a side street.

Not exactly a very idealistic reason to fight for the Ishin Shishi, Kenshin mused, but he was probably right about taking what life gives you and working it to your own advantage. ‘I’ll have to remember that,’ he thought.

Soon he was in the Gion district, and he made his way to the back door of the inn where Kumiko lived. The burly man he had met before answered his knock.

"Ohayou gozaimasu," Kenshin said politely. "Is Kumiko-san in?"

"She’s gone," the man growled.

"When will she be back?" Kenshin asked.

"I mean she’s gone for good," the man said. "Go away."

He tried to slam the door, but Kenshin put out his hand to hold it open. "What do you mean, she’s gone for good?"

"Listen, you, some high-class samurai came by yesterday and paid big money to send her down to Osaka. She left last night."

"What?!"

"You heard me, she left last night. Now get outta here!"

"Wait!" Kenshin shouted, keeping his hand on the door. "Who did this? What if she didn’t want to go?"

"Women ain’t got no choice in these matters," the man said. "Anyway, he’s a good customer, the one with the fancy mustache. Now, leave!"

Suddenly, a small form shot through the door yelling "Nii-san!" and wrapped itself around Kenshin’s middle. It was the little five-year-old boy he had met down at the river with Kumiko. The man grabbed the boy roughly and pulled him away.

"He ain’t your nii-san, and you ain’t his kin! Now go back inside!" Then, turning to glare at Kenshin, he said, "That samurai warned us about you, too, so you’d better leave and never come back!"

"Warned you? What did he say about me?"

"You’re dangerous, that’s what he said, and we don’t want no danger here. Now get out!"

Kenshin let go of the door. A rich customer with a fancy mustache? Someone who would tell people that Kenshin was dangerous? There was only one person he could think of who fit that description, and it made his blood boil—Shinzu Tora. He could feel a rage take over him as he made his way back to the inn. He stormed into the building searching for the man, but without success. Finally, masking his anger with difficulty, he asked one of the men who had come with Shinzu from Chousu, only to be told that Shinzu had gone out and was expected back shortly.

Kenshin decided to wait for him, but not at the inn. Instead, he went down close to where the inn’s side street intersected with the main thoroughfare. There he quietly jumped onto a roof to keep watch. It seemed like an eternity, but finally he saw Shinzu approaching. He let the man turn onto the side street. Then he jumped down, catlike, behind him and in a flash grabbed the man by the arm, spun him around, pushed him up against a building, and had his sword to his throat.

"What did you do with Kumiko?" Kenshin said in a dangerous voice, his eyes glowing amber.

Shinzu was startled, but he hid it well. "Kumiko?" he laughed as he glared back at Kenshin. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Yugao—Kumiko. You know exactly who I’m talking about," Kenshin said even more dangerously.

"That whore? Really! A boy your age cavorting with women like…" Kenshin pushed the blade a little tighter against his neck. "I’m having her sent to Osaka," Shinzu croaked. "It’s for her own safety—got to save her from killers like you."

"How dare you," Kenshin growled, grabbing the front of Shinzu’s gi in his fist.

Shinzu tried to push him away, but Kenshin had him pinned in a way that prevented the much larger man from doing much of anything.

"Listen," Shinzu spat, "who do you think you are? You’re a killer, that’s all you are, and that’s all you’ll ever be. It’s up to people like me to make sure innocent people don’t associate with the likes of you."

Now Kenshin pulled even tighter on the front of Shinzu’s gi, for he realized just what the man was saying. "You," Kenshin hissed. "It was you who sent the stableboy, Shozo, off to Takasugi, wasn’t it."

"Killers can’t have friends," Shinzu said with a sneer.

"I’ll kill you," Kenshin snarled. "I’ll kill you for that!" and he made ready to carry out his threat, but Shinzu continued to sneer.

"I thought we were supposed to be on the same side," Shinzu laughed. "You said so yourself, remember?"

Kenshin stopped. What was he doing? He was just about to kill this man out of anger—what was happening to him? He removed his sword from Shinzu’s neck. Then he grabbed the man’s gi again and roughly hurled him away from the wall. Shinzu rubbed his neck and straightened his clothes.

"A killer—that’s all you’ll ever be," Shinzu laughed. Then he turned and stalked off.

Kenshin stood holding his sword, shaking with anger. What had he ever done to this man to deserve such unmitigated hatred? The man had tracked down the two people Kenshin had found who could help him cope with the realities of his deadly job, and Shinzu had sent them away. If Shinzu was trying to find a way to make sure Kenshin would only last three months as a hitokiri, he was certainly doing a good job of it.

Instinctively, Kenshin stormed off to find solace in the secluded meadow outside of town. He immediately started practicing his kata, hoping for the sense of peace and contentment he had always found in going through the prescribed moves. Now, however, every move, from the simplest to the most complex, only recalled for him each slash and thrust he had used on the missions he had been sent on thus far. He had obviously crossed some unknowable threshhold beyond which his kenjutsu was no longer a practice of joy, but one of merciless utility. He wandered over to the grove of trees and sat, his head in his hands, as despair overtook him. He had no one to turn to anymore, no one to help bring him back to life. He prayed to every god he knew—even to every god he didn’t know—that this revolution would be over quickly so he could return to his shishou and the life he once had. But he knew that could never be. He had disobeyed Hiko and dishonored his teachings. There was no going back.