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Tanabata Jasmine: Chapter 25 - Convergence

by Nekotsuki ::: 05.Jan.2005

He was so still after his eyes closed that for a moment she thought he’d fainted, which worried her. Misao couldn’t bear Kenshin’s weight on her own, and Aoshi would need his hands free, particularly if they had to fight their way off the grounds. She glanced sharply up to his face, drawn and pale, and decided he was still conscious. His breathing was shallow, but controlled; an attempt to keep his upper body as still as possible.

Her hands moved over him carefully, taking measure of his injuries, noting with concern the heat under her fingertips. She was relieved to find nothing life-threatening; he’d avoided getting shot. There was old blood matted in his hair, and fresh blood on his arm and smeared across his hakama. A deep wound showing signs of infection, but nothing likely to kill him any time soon. She apologized quietly to him as she worked her fingers gently through the tangled hair to find the shallow injury beneath, and received a wan smile in return, although he didn’t open his eyes. A few old cuts and some fresh bruises … nothing serious, there.

The break to his collar bone was by far the worst thing he suffered, clearly visible by the awkward angle of his shoulder and the dark, welted bruising which warned of other complications. Just how he’d managed to run across the grounds with his shoulder like that was beyond her. Misao didn’t know whether to be impressed with his determination, or horrified.

One thing she did know for certain: whoever had decided to let the break go untreatedwas going to have a small, up close and personal meeting with as many kunai as she had to spare.

That’s if Kaoru-san doesn’t get to him first.

Misao scowled. The most she could do now was brace his shoulder temporarily, enough to ease the discomfort of moving and let him keep his other arm free. She reached over to hook fingers into the gi of a downed guard – and yelped as a figure crashed out of the bushes directly to her left, sword already out and swinging for her head. Reflexes carried her backward and she pitched to the ground out of its path, biting back on a shriek as the length of metal sheared through the air a bare inch in front of her nose.

“Aoshi-samaaaa!” She rolled as the man shifted grip on his sword to lift it high above his head, and kicked his legs out from under him. “Reinforcements!”

Even as the guard fell, she could see he hadn’t been alone. Four more had arrived; two from her side, two swiftly approaching Aoshi’s battle to assist their losing allies, blades out. They weren’t the only ones; she could hear more through the tree line, on their way here. With a pang of dread, she realized – if Kenshin’s escape attempt and subsequent recapture hadn’t managed to draw them, her own scream of distraction certainly had. Every guard on the grounds would know by now that Battousai was here, in the hands of his friends … in the middle of an estate full of men who wanted him back.

Well, this is going to be fun. She struck the fallen guard as hard as she could in the face, and rounded on Kenshin with a glare, unsurprised to find that the rurouni was again attempting to rise to his feet, eyes open and fixed on the new arrivals. Misao flung out a hand to catch him by his good shoulder and pushed him back down, steadying him as he swayed. She bit her lip as his violet gaze lifted to meet hers; steady, but hazed with pain and an exhaustion so deep she began to suspect he would have to be carried from the grounds after all.

She turned to face the two men, approaching her warily. They were taking their time; trying to work out if the man behind her was still a threat, no doubt. She cursed under her breath as she considered the odds, risking a glance toward Aoshi. He was unlikely to be able to interfere with the battle this time, outnumbered as he was in his own fight.

Misao uttered something blasphemous under her breath as her hands delved into her gi for the second brace of kunai – and froze, blinking in astonishment, as the familiar and livid face of Kamiya Kaoru appeared behind her two opponents.

A moment later – as one guard began to turn, to see what Misao was staring at – the bokken swept almost viciously into the side of his neck.

---------

She wasn’t alone. Sano had caught up to her easily on her mad sprint towards the guards’ outcry, all but carrying an out-of-breath Yahiko under one arm. The announcement that Kenshin had been brought down, and the shouting that followed, had filled her with a feeling close to panic. The edge to those raised voices was enough to convince her that the men were just one step shy of being a lynch mob, and that didn’t bode well for Kenshin’s health at all.

And that fired her temper.

The fact that Misao – and by logical association, Aoshi – had clearly already joined the fray ahead, did nothing to take the edge from her anger. By the time she arrived on the scene, Kaoru was furious enough that her first strike with the bokken was brutal enough to lay the guard flat at her feet. The crack of impact was enough to draw the other man’s attention away from his first target, and he turned on her with a snarl of anger. “Bitch!”

Sano kicked him in the face with enough force to send him flying, colliding with one of Aoshi’s opponents and causing them both to sprawl to the ground.

Kaoru scowled at him, and he grinned. “What? He was rude.” He glanced back to Misao – past Misao – and took a sharp breath, before shoving her forward to the other girl as his smile suddenly vanished. “Go. I’ll help Aoshi deal with the extras.” And before she could protest, he was gone.

Why did--? She stopped on that thought. The answer was obvious. Bokken lowered to the ground, she glanced up to Misao’s stunned expression. The other girl still held her kunai balanced in one hand; she didn’t hold Kaoru’s attention for long. Her gaze swung past to the tangle of red hair, half-concealing the pale, angular features of a man she hadn’t laid eyes on for more than a week.

Kenshin.

She kept a grip on her bokken through discipline only, moving past Misao swiftly to fall to her knees at his side, lifting a hand to grasp him by the shoulder before she hesitated, thinking better of it, fingers hovering above the injury she was only now fully taking in. “Kenshin.” She spoke aloud this time, voice filled with worry, aware of soft footsteps behind her, running past Misao. Yahiko, by the sound of the short gasps as the boy fought to get his breath back after running so hard. She heard his sharp intake of shock, but paid no more attention to it as Kenshin lifted his head to stare up at her, mouth curved into a sweet and reassuring smile.

“Kaoru-dono.” His voice was faint, but warm. Even now, he was trying to ease her concern. “Please, don’t worry. I’ll be—“

“Don’t worry?” she interrupted, a hint of fury in her voice as she regarded him. “Look at you! You’re a mess! Your shoulder … you’re covered in blood and you tell me not to worry?”

“Sumanai,” he muttered quietly, closing his eyes again.

“Don’t apologise!” she snapped, aware that she was being unfair. “It’s not like it’s your fault, Kenshin! Just…” She broke off, fighting tears. Her self-control, held admirably thus far, was dangerously close to breaking under the sheer relief of seeing him again.

“It’s not that bad, Kaoru-san,” Misao said from behind her. She glanced up in time to catch the other girl smile almost gently. Next to her, Yahiko’s face was white. “Mainly it’s the shoulder. We need to brace it before we try and move him.” She glanced behind her, assessing the battle. Sano and Aoshi were effectively defending them on one side, but that didn’t change the fact that the four of them could be attacked from the other at any moment. “We’re not going to have much time. If you can bind Himura’s shoulder, I’ll stand as your defense.”

“Bad idea.” They both glanced to Yahiko as he finally found his voice. He spoke in surprisingly level tones, given the shock clearly visible on his face. “I’ll do it. You’ll need someone to hold him steady with a … break like that.”

“Yahiko…” Kaoru blinked at him.

“Don’t say I can’t do it, busu,” he challenged.

She took a breath, ignoring the insult, calm and control reasserting itself as she spoke, teacher to student. He’d fought his way here with no problems. He’d defeated Henya. The men here were far easier to deal with than the Juppongatana. “Stay on the defense and don’t chase them if they retreat.”

“I wasn’t going to!”

“I know,” she said softly, turning back to Kenshin, offering him a smile of her own as he met her gaze with troubled eyes. Misao had moved, crouching down by the body of a guard and using her kunai to slice the gi from his back for makeshift bandaging. “Keep your back directly to us at all times; that way, you can’t get taken by surprise.”

And that way, you won’t get distracted while we work.

“Hai.” There was a measure of relief in his tone as he turned away, shinai held two-handed in front of him.

Kenshin’s gaze was still troubled. She wondered briefly if he was concerned about Yahiko, and then dismissed the idea; at times, Kenshin’s faith in the boy’s skill surpassed her own. “Kenshin.” She paused for a moment, glancing to Misao, who was tearing the gi down into wide, more manageable strips. “This is only temporary – you’ll have to get this done properly as soon as we’re out of here, or—“

Or you risk permanent damage to your sword arm. She left it unsaid. Considering he’d taken this wound at the very outset of his kidnapping, she was vaguely surprised that the collarbone hadn’t attempted to mend – badly – on its own. Had he rebroken it? Had someone else deliberately broken it again for him? Her anger surged back at the thought, mouth a tight line.

“Alright.” Misao knelt on his other side, long, pale strips in hand. “Let’s try this. Gomen, Himura. This is going to hurt a little.”

---------

And it hurt. Kaoru’s hands were cool and comforting against his shoulders as she held him away from the harsh texture of the bark, while Misao worked. Vaguely he was aware of having jerked back into her grasp entirely, letting her support him as Misao began to apply the strictures of bandaging, working too swiftly to be gentle, apologizing softly each time he flinched. Kaoru said nothing; merely held him steady, the faintest tremble to her fingertips the only indication that the situation distressed her. He wondered who had given her the bruise on her cheek; a mark too faded for her to have received it this night. He thought he might ask her, later.

The urge to pass out was growing stronger now, as adrenaline faded away. He fought it stubbornly, and turned to fasten his gaze on the back of Yahiko’s gi in an attempt to maintain focus, as the boy stood fast against attack. To faint now would be unforgivable, leaving his friends with the additional burden of carrying him out. As it was, he knew they would concentrate on defending him at their own expense, because they would assume him incapable of doing so himself.

He clenched his teeth, as Misao finished tying off her makeshift bandaging across his shoulders and fashioned a rough sling. The break still seared pain across his nerves, but after his attack on Yamato and subsequent sprint, he doubted that would change soon. The dressing was tight at least, holding his shoulder back and in place and relieving some of the pressure, while the sling would give added support to the arm.

With only a few scraps of material, Misao had done a surprisingly efficient job. “Arigatou, Misao-dono.”

She grinned at him in response. His gaze slid to the thin gash on her arm, running from shoulder to elbow, and he winced inwardly. She’d been injured on his behalf. He wondered if she was the only one.

“Kenshin?”

There was worry in Kaoru’s voice, her arm slipped under his good one, holding him upright. Kenshin blinked, and realized in dismay that Misao had risen, regarding him gravely. He hadn’t seen her stand. He reined in his first impulse to curse at the lapse, and instead turned his head fractionally and gave Kaoru a smile. “I’m fine.”

She bit her lip, and he shifted focus again, gaze settling on the sword at her waist. He was confused for a moment – Kaoru had two weapons? – before his weary mind caught up and he realized he was staring at his own sakabatou. His breath caught in his throat, and he turned back to stare at her.

“Kaoru-dono? Where did—“

“Yahiko … found it in Tokyo,” she said evasively. “Kenshin – are you sure you’re all right?”

Just found it? There was clearly far more to it than that … but the notion that his sword had not been lost outside Tokyo or stolen by Senzo’s men, but rather carried here carefully by this woman, was unexpectedly touching. Rather than press her for an answer – and now wasn’t the best timing in any case – he smiled again, more genuinely. “Hai, Kaoru-dono. I’m just tired.”

“Tired, he says,” was the snorted reply, and he looked up to Sano’s wry expression as the former gangster crouched next to him, resting his lanky arms across his knees. Behind him, Aoshi could be seen, kodachi still held at the ready as he gazed intently into the trees.

Despite himself, Kenshin grinned tiredly at his friend’s cocky disbelief. “Sano.”

“Yo, Kenshin.” Sano paused, and considered him at length, eyes unreadable, before giving a rough smile in return. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

So I’ve been told. He glanced across to Aoshi, and read the intensity in his face. Something was going on. “The guards?”

Sano gave a shrug. “Last couple took off. Think they got the message? Or maybe we’ve finally run out of people to hit.”

“They’ve pulled back,” Aoshi corrected, turning on his heel to join them. “They know they’re just wasting men. That doesn’t mean they’ve given up.”

“Now’s a good time to leave, at any rate,” Sano muttered. He gave Kenshin another critical look. “Any ribs broken?”

“None. Why—“ He broke off in surprise as Sano took hold of him and stood, lifting Kenshin with care and setting him on his feet. He held the rurouni steady as he staggered, keeping him upright while he tried to get his bearings back. The sudden elevation had done horrible things to his sense of balance.

There was a pause, and then Sano spoke again with a trace of doubt. “You sure you can stand? I can carry you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sick,” Sano pointed out reasonably.

“I said I’m fine.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and he softened his next words, trying to take the defensive edge from his voice. “Arigatou, but I can walk. You’ll need your hands free.”

“It’s all right, Sanosuke.” Kaoru’s soft voice behind him, followed by the hesitant, light touch of her fingers on Kenshin’s arm. “I’ll help him, if he needs it. Kenshin’s right. If we’re attacked on the run, you’ll be needed.”

Sano’s gaze didn’t waver from Kenshin, skepticism and concern clearly written on his face. Finally, he gave a slight shrug. “If you fall, I’m picking you up. You don’t get a say.”

He couldn’t think of a single appropriate response to that. Merely stood there and blinked, as Sano gave a satisfied grunt and turned to Aoshi.

“Where to?”

“East wall,” Aoshi replied. “It’s closest.”

---------

They moved quickly despite Kenshin’s injuries, taking advantage of the brief passivity of the guards. Aoshi guided them unerringly through the trees. Yahiko and Kaoru hovered at Kenshin’s side, while Misao trailed a few steps behind, peering into the darkness cautiously, clearly expecting further attack at any moment. Good sense, really.

Sano brought up the rear. From here he could keep watch on the stubborn rurouni … and keep from him the fact that Sano’s shoulder blade was smeared in blood. The last thing he wanted right now was for Kenshin to feel guiltier than he already did. Damn fool would probably try and take his sword back, intent on wobbling it at the enemy a few times before he fell over in a dead faint.

The fact that he hadn’t asked Kaoru for the sakabatou showed he had at least some sense. Sano watched him closely, more angry about his condition than worried. If Shishio hadn’t managed to kill Kenshin, then he’d certainly survive these wounds. On the other hand, that shoulder had apparently been left untreated for almost a week and a half, and the rurouni’s skin was hot to the touch. Kenshin had to be on the way out. He looked too exhausted to be staying on his feet with anything other than sheer force of will, and even that would only take him so far. As it was, he was beginning to stagger. Sano watched as Kaoru quietly took hold of his good arm and laid it gently across her shoulders, her other arm wrapped loosely around his waist. She whispered something to him Sano couldn’t hear – probably an apology – and Kenshin merely shook his head wearily. Either he was smart enough to realize he needed the help, or he didn’t have the strength to protest.

He expected opposition to increase on their way to the edge of the estate – or at the very least, turn up to make a show of attacking them. He knew there were still men keeping tabs on them – could hear them occasionally in the trees – but they refused to make an appearance. Yet, they made it to the wall without incident. It both relieved and unnerved him. They could lift Kenshin over the wall and leave, just like that? That didn’t make sense—

And then the first gunshot rang out, an echoing crack in the night that took a chunk out of the tree bare inches from Kaoru’s head. She yelped and tumbled to the ground, dragging Kenshin with her in a graceless heapas Yahiko dropped to the grass on his own. Misao spun on her heel, kunai held in hand searching for a target. Swearing, Sano’s tackle took her off her feet just as the second shot fired, narrowly missing them both. A third and a fourth shot sounded, cracking into the wall itself.

Then there was silence.

“Riflemen,” Kenshin muttered.

Sano blinked at him, and then turned as Aoshi spoke with eerie calm on his other side, crouched by the wall just beneath the damaged stone. "Deliberate miss."

"Real helpful," Sano snarled. "So what, they just let us go to pin us here? We can still go over the wall—“

He stopped. No, they couldn’t. Aoshi or Misao might be able to go over fast enough to avoid getting shot, if they took the snipers by surprise – but the rest of them wouldn’t. They’d be sitting ducks. And that was the point, of course. It wouldn’t have been hard for the guards to work out where they were headed. The men they’d fought before hadn’t withdrawn because they’d had enough, but rather to remove themselves from the firing line.

They’d walked straight into an ambush.