Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

Tanabata Jasmine: Chapter 20 - Interrogation

by Nekotsuki ::: 17.Oct.2004

“So let me get this straight...”

Sanosuke peered at the merchant, dangling limply from his tight-fisted grip, with an almost horrified fascination.

“...You’re the bastard who managed to kidnap the best swordsman in all of Japan ... and you run into me, and you faint? Oi!” He shook the smaller man back and forth like a ragdoll. “Wake up! I’ve got something I wanna say to you!”

There was no response. Sano shook him again, and cursed. “I can’t believe this. No way Kenshin got taken by someone so weak.”

“Shock.”

“What?”

Aoshi finished sheathing his kodachi before he looked up, staring at the merchant analytically. “His wrist is broken and two of his men are dead. Senzo Karanai is no warrior. He pays others to fight for him.” He gave a quiet shrug. “Shock.”

“Most I’ve heard you say all day,” Sano muttered. Predictably, there was no response. Aoshi merely inclined his head slightly and spun on his heel, heading back to the front room. Sano sighed, and shifted Senzo’s weight across his shoulder, trailing along behind.

It had been a very long day. The weather was ridiculously hot, and what had he been doing since morning? Sitting on a damn roof and playing spot-the-henchman for the taciturn Aoshi. They needn’t have bothered wasting the entire day doing so; Aki and Hiro had come skulking through the gate at sunset – and while they clearly took pains to make sure they weren’t being followed on the road, they never once had the sense to look up. Just as well, considering; Sagara Sanosuke wasn’t a man used to sneaking around on roof tops.

He still wasn’t sure how Aoshi knew they were coming to Kyoto. The former Okashira had been tight-lipped on the subject. Had, in fact, said almost nothing to Sanosuke at all during the day, even after they’d begun their stealthy trailing of Senzo’s men.Except for the word wait, when the two men had entered Senzo’s home, and it became abundantly clear that Aoshi and Sano weren’t the only two people interested in the merchant’s welfare, as others emerged from the shadows. And when the door had been kicked in, they’d separated – Aoshi to interrupt the fighting and try to preserve the life of the man with the information they needed, and Sano to make sure the merchant couldn’t run.

A surprisingly effective plan, even if it did irritate Sano no end that they’d had to save Senzo’s life. As far as he was concerned, the merchant certainly didn’t deserve the assistance ... but they’d had little choice. If Senzo had died, their search for Kenshin would be back to square one.

Something I’m thinking these idiots were counting on. He stepped carefully over the body of a stranger, sprawled across the threshold of the door to the hallway, and rounded the corner into the front room. Aoshi was down on one knee by the blood-spattered wall, turning a throwing star carefully over in his fingers. Sano winced as he looked over the carnage. Five men down. At least three of them were unmistakably dead.

“The other guy knew who you were,” he said thoughtfully.

Aoshi glanced at him, and stood, tossing the shuriken lightly onto the table before turning for the door in silence.

“You know who they were?”

The other man paused briefly, and then nodded once.

---------

“This is the guy who ran off with Himura?”

Misao shook her head in skepticism, dabbing blood away from Aoshi’s cheek with a clean cloth. How he just sat there patiently and let her pamper the cut on his face with such enthusiasm, Sano would never know. He gave a shrug.

“It’s him.”

She gave a snort. “I don’t know what Himura was thinking, losing to something like that. I mean, look at his face! Does this look like the sort of guy who’d run circles around the legendary Battousai?”

“Appearances can be deceiving, Misao,” Okina said with amusement, arriving in the room with a covered tray and closing the shoji behind him. “You of all people should know that.”

“Besides,” Sano added, “Kenshin gave this guy at least half of those bruises. Wouldn’t be surprised if the other half came from him as well.” He grinned. “But I’ll be sure to tell him how much faith you had in him, ne?”

They were all here. Kaoru stood with her hands on Yahiko’s shoulders, staring at their unwilling guest thoughtfully. Aoshi, being tended (or attacked, depending on which way you looked at it) by Misao in the corner.

Sano crouched down to look the merchant in the face. Senzo was awake, now, sitting carefully against the wall and cradling his wrist. None too happy about the circumstances he found himself in, but Sano didn’t give a damn.

“So, I’m sure you’re aware we just saved your life,” he said casually. “And even if you hadn’t drugged our friend, that means you owe us. Wanna pay up?”

“I always pay my debts, if I can,” the merchant replied, voice worn. His eyes flicked from person to person, measuringly. “And I do appreciate the time you took away from sneaking after my men to assist me. Perhaps you could be more specific as to what you want?”

Nervous the man might be, but his tongue was still sharp. Sano scowled at him. “You know damn well what we want. Where’s Kenshin?”

“I cannot say.” Senzo gave a crooked smile. “Alas, the last time I saw Himura-san, he was breaking a chair over my head in an attempt to escape my company. He was at least partially successful. I haven’t seen him since.”

“He escaped?” Kaoru’s question was immediate and hopeful. Senzo opened his mouth to answer her, caught the dark glare on Sano’s face, and apparently thought better of his original words. He swallowed, and tried again.

“It was a valiant attempt, I’m told. He was taken into custody by another, and thus he was no longer my responsibility.”

“Where’s Kenshin?” Sano repeated.

“I don’t know.”

“You were hired to abduct Himura Battousai,” Aoshi interjected, flatly. “Your employer would not have paid you the full fee on such a dangerous contract beforehand. Where did you collect your money?”

Sano caught a flicker in the merchant’s eyes. Fear? Stubbornness?

“Senzo-san.” Okina, now, moving to stand beside Sano’s crouched form. “I don’t see why you refuse to tell us. Did not your employer send assassins after you this evening? Why do you protect him?”

“My employer would not try to kill me,” Senzo snapped. “He considers himself an honourable man.”

“Right.” Sano grinned, sourly. “And he hired you to what, drug and kidnap a guy? That’s real honourable, flower-seller. So if he didn’t, who did?”

“How should I know?” he protested. “I never saw those people before in my life!”

“Fair enough.” Sano glanced at Aoshi, who gave a careful nod. “So then, does the name Shishio Makoto mean anything to you?”

Senzo flinched.

“Because the guys who attacked you used to work for him. You know who they’d be working for now?”

“...Hai.” The merchant looked down at his swollen wrist, then took a deep breath, smiling bitterly. “Yamato Dayu.”

“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” Sano drawled. “He try to kill you to shut your mouth? Who is this guy?”

“A man who thinks I’ve made too many mistakes, I’m sure,” Senzo murmured. He looked up again. “He’s a police officer in Osaka, although his true allegiance is obviously elsewhere.”

“...police officer?” Kaoru echoed, an odd tone to her voice. “What did he look like?”

Senzo gave her a knowing look. “Ran into him, did you? Brown hair, grey eyes? A little taller than me?”

“That’s gotta be him ...” Yahiko said in disbelief. Sano turned to look at him sharply, and the kid shrugged. “While you were off getting lunch, we spoke to a cop.”

“He told us the police in Osaka were still looking for you,” Kaoru said steadily, eyes on the merchant. “And that there had been no sign of you making port.’

Senzo smiled pleasantly. “Well, dear lady, I can assure you he lied. He does have a career to protect, after all. You should count yourself lucky that misleading you was all he did—“

He broke off, white-faced, as Sano’s fist slammed into the wall beside his head.

“We’re not interested in whether you think she’s lucky,” he snarled. “If this Yamato guy isn’t the one who hired you, what’s he have to do with Kenshin?”

“Who knows?” Senzo waved a hand in exasperation. “Revenge for Shishio, perhaps? I don’t ask these things. I do know that he hates your Himura-san with a passion. And considering Yamato is the one who prevented his escape and brought him to Kyoto, you should be more interested in letting me finish what I have to say. The man is a ruthless killer.” He nodded to Kaoru. “I’ve no doubt that if you had attempted to visit the Osaka station after talking with him, you wouldn’t be standing here now.”“That’s debatable,” Sano muttered.

“He has more support than you realise,” Senzo countered, and shifted an accusing gaze to Aoshi. “You should have killed those men when you had the chance. They’ll go back to him to report failure.”

“That is your problem,” Aoshi said, coolly.

“And yours,” he shot back. “He’ll go to the man who hired me and convince him to have Himura-san moved. Then nothing I tell you will be of any help.”

“So you do know where he is, then?” Okina’s voice was mild.

Senzo shut his mouth with a snap.

“Spit it out, merchant,” Sano demanded. “Before I lose my temper.”

---------

In the end, he told them.

It wasn’t Sano’s threats of violence that drew the information from him. Rather, when Okina set the tray he had been carrying down on the table and gravely asked Misao to escort Kaoru and Yahiko from the room, the merchant’s imagination had apparently carried him places he did not want to go. Particularly when the old man had removed the covering from the tray with a solemn gesture and finished his request with the words, women and children should not see this.

Sano had no idea whether Okina had been bluffing or not; thankfully, he didn’t have to find out. Before the old man had even touched the contents of the tray, Senzo had given them a name. It was all they needed, as it turned out.

“Bayushi Mitsuharu.” Aoshi was drawing his gloves on as Okina spoke. Senzo had been forcibly escorted from the room. “He lives here in Kyoto. A wealthy man who carries a fair influence in certain circles. He’s withdrawn from the public eye in the past six months. It is believed that he is ill.”

“You know where this guy lives, then?” Yahiko asked eagerly.

Okina smiled cheerfully at the boy. “Of course.”

Beside him, Kaoru uttered a small sound of relief. Sano grinned, slapping a hand on her shoulder. “Then all we have to do is punch in a few heads and take Kenshin back, right?”

“Wrong.” They turned to look at Aoshi in confusion. “You should stay here. This is a job better suited to the Oniwabanshu.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Sano practically snarled. “These guys have been screwing us around since Tokyo, and they have our friend, and you want us to stay out of it? Like hell.”

“You’re not thinking it through,” Aoshi said quietly. “Bayushi is a wealthy man. His estate is large. We don’t know where he will be keeping Battousai, and we still don’t know what he wants. If we attack at the front gates, what will he do? Run? Will he take Battousai with him? Use him as a hostage? Kill him?

“According to the merchant, he tried to escape and was stopped by Yamato Dayu. In his own words, a ruthless killer who hates Battousai with a passion.” His eyes flicked to Kaoru briefly, before turning back to Sano. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “He may not be in a position to defend himself from any of these possibilities.”

In other words, too badly hurt. Or drugged out of his mind. Sano winced at the possibilities, although a small part of him was mildly amused at Aoshi’s phrasing. It was almost as if the man was trying to be ... tactful.

“Aoshi is right,” Okina mused. “It is better for the Oniwabanshu to try and locate him quietly. We can take him from the premises before anyone is the wiser.”

“You don’t know that,” Kaoru said, face pale. Sano had no doubt she was well aware of what Aoshi had tried not to say. “None of us is useless, and you might need the extra numbers.”

Aoshi turned to stare at her, eyes settling deliberately on the bruise, still fading from her cheek.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” she said furiously, jabbing a finger up at his chest. “You can’t stop us from going. I have to give him back his sword.”

“Kaoru-san...” Misao’s voice was almost a squeak.

There was a long silence, drawn out in surreal fashion for those watching the unlikely pair try to stare each other down.

Eventually, it was Kaoru that looked away from that piercing gaze, frustration etched clearly on her features. Sano wondered uneasily if she was going to cry.

“We’ll split into two groups,” Aoshi said, mildly. Kaoru’s head shot back up. “Give us time to find Battousai. If need be, you can cause a distraction at the gates.”