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Tanabata Jasmine: Chapter 26 - Mind Games

by Nekotsuki ::: 14.Feb.2005

For a moment, Sano wondered if they could get away with just trying to run. He could fling Kenshin over one shoulder – to hell with his pride – and they could sprint alongside the stone of the wall, put a few trees between them and the riflemen. Surely they could get enough space, could buy enough time to get over the wall to safety before the guards could get a clear shot.

A fine plan, which might work if he had any idea where they were actually firing from or even how many there were. For all he knew, there could be more riflemen further along the wall – and he had the sinking feeling that the moment any of them tried to run, the guards would shoot again, and this time they wouldn't miss. Not a risk he was willing to take.

Misao was still half pinned beneath him, her elbow driving uncomfortably into his stomach. He shifted enough for the girl to wriggle free, and shifted his gaze across to the others. Aoshi was the most composed of them all, despite the fact that the last two shots had clearly been aimed at him; he stayed crouched at the base of the wall in perfect stillness, sharp eyes scanning the trees. Yahiko was on his knees, clutching his shinai with both hands as if he could somehow parry a bullet. Kaoru had dropped her bokken to the ground nearby in favour of cushioning Kenshin's fall, trying to ease the jolt to his collar bone.

The rurouni himself was half-faced away from him, tangled bangs concealing most of his face, slouched forward with his good arm still draped across Kaoru's right shoulder. There was a certain tension to his frame that made Sano narrow his eyes with suspicion. He knew exactly what Kenshin was thinking.

The silence after the gunshots lasted a full fifteen seconds.

It stretched forever.

"Misao," Aoshi said, so softly he was barely audible. "Mark."

Sanosuke was caught up in trying to work out what that was about, when they heard the first call from the trees.

"Battousai!"

Kenshin lifted his head slightly at the name, giving Sano a better look at his face. The rurouni's lips had curved upward in an expression of grim amusement. And why not? They all knew what the man was going to say next. Kaoru certainly knew, and knew what Kenshin's response would inevitably be; her fingers reached to curl around his arm, her gaze settling on Sanosuke, a stubborn look on her face that managed to be pleading at the same time.

"Bayushi-sama wishes to inform you that he has no desire for unnecessary bloodshed." The voice was clear, words carrying effortlessly through the summer night. "Surrender yourself, and you have his word that your allies may leave unchallenged. Decide quickly."

Well, that was a surprise.

Even more predictable was the response. After a brief, still moment of hesitation, Kenshin drew back from Kaoru's uncertain grip, clearly intent on standing. She caught him more firmly by the wrist, arresting his movement, voice low and urgent. "Kenshin, you can't trust that. What's to say he won't shoot us anyway?"

"Because he didn't have to give us a choice, Kaoru-dono," he replied softly.

There was truth in that, Sano realized with a start. The first volley of shots could easily have been aimed to kill them all – and there was nothing to stop them from shooting again, now. They weren't behind any cover. Far simpler, far more direct for them to retrieve one injured rurouni from a pile of corpses, and yet they'd settled for giving them a warning. There was obviously a lot more going on here than they were aware of.

And yet in the end, it didn't really matter. Hidden motivations aside, the fact remained that these people had seriously hurt Kenshin. Stood to reason that if they let him trade his own life for theirs, more of the same would occur. Sano narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Kenshin," he hissed. Kaoru was trying to plead. He'd go one better. "Just so we're clear – you make one move to give yourself up and I'll hit you so hard you won't wake up for a week."

Kenshin jerked his head up at that, violet eyes wide with surprise as he turned. Sano stared back at him with an angry grin, hands already curled into fists, watching as the redhead's face darkened in realization. "Sano—"

"Shut up and listen." Sano leaned forward, speaking in a furious whisper, bare inches away from the smaller man's face. "You honestly think that will solve anything? Sure, if you believe they'll let us go, fair enough. But do you think that after all the effort we put into finding you, we're going to just leave on your say so?"

"Sano—"

"I'm not done yet." He was being unfair. It was also the only way he could think of to get Kenshin to stay put; at least, without actually resorting to knocking him flat. "We put our lives on the line to help you out, Kenshin. Turning your back on that is just plain selfish. Why don't you stop pretending everything's your responsibility and maybe just trust—"

"Sano."

There was genuine anger laced through that flat utterance of his name. Kenshin stared him down with narrowed eyes. Maybe he'd gone too far. Kaoru was certainly looking at him as if he was mad … and yet, her hand was still firmly gripping Kenshin's wrist. A hold he was apparently incapable of breaking, which spoke volumes on how exhausted he was.

"Sano," Kenshin said again, more gently. "I trust you."

"Then don't do it," he shot back. "There are other ways to deal with this."

"Sagara is correct."

An unexpected interruption, from the most unlikely of people. Aoshi straightened from his crouch by Misao and shifted his gaze to Kenshin, unblinking. "There are other ways," he echoed, voice dropping to a faint murmur. "Will you buy time?"

The tension drained from Kenshin's shoulders at the words, a flicker of relief in his expression. "Aa," he replied simply.

Sano had the feeling he'd just missed something important. From the baffled look on Yahiko's face and the uncertain plea still visible in Kaoru's expression, he wasn't the only one. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation and then shut it, aware of the presence of unwelcome eavesdroppers.

"Kaoru-dono."

Kaoru turned her gaze away from Sano, and met Kenshin's grave look as he turned his fingers to rest lightly on the curve of her hand. His words were almost apologetic. "I would ask that you let go of my arm."

Her eyes widened. "Kenshin!"

"Let him go," Aoshi interjected quietly. His eyes flicked to Sano, of all people. "Trust works both ways."

And of all things, that sounded like a lecture. Sanosuke shot the man a withering glare and was ignored, as Aoshi lowered his gaze again to Misao, muttering something he couldn't quite catch. Dammit, he was right to stop Kenshin from handing himself over. He didn't care what problem Bayushi had with the redhead; anyone who resorted to kidnapping and assault as a way of working out their issues deserved whatever they got. And yet—

Will you buy time?

Sano blinked. And understood, as much as he was able to.

"Jou-chan," he said gruffly. "Aoshi's right. Let him up." And because he saw that Kaoru didn't understand – was too fixated on keeping Kenshin still and safe for her to do any more than stare at him with surprised betrayal – he added in a rough tone, "He has to at least talk to them. It won't go further than that."

As if on cue, the voice that had addressed them earlier rang out again with an edge of impatience. "Battousai!"

Kaoru turned back to Kenshin once more, blue eyes searching his face worriedly. For a moment, Sano thought she was going to be stubborn – couldn't blame her if she was – but her grip loosened, sliding away from his slender wrist as he smiled at her.

"Arigatou, Kaoru-dono."

He rose to his feet, then; an ascent that was surprisingly graceful, given the overriding exhaustion he suffered. Sano, watching his face carefully, saw the brief flash of vertigo, relentlessly stifled as Himura Kenshin curled his free hand into a fist, mouth twisting slightly beneath the tangled bangs as he paused to recover his equilibrium.

Then he turned, stepping away from them to give a response, voice mild. "If Bayushi-san wishes to give me his word, it is far more convincing to deliver it in person."

Two steps away from Kaoru's side, and he could see movement in the trees. The men that had followed them to the wall, he assumed. Not so many. Barely more than a handful making themselves known to him, not one of them armed with a gun. The riflemen were keeping out of sight. He considered that for a moment, and breathed a little easier at the possible implications.

Mark.

Kenshin was putting a lot of faith in that word.

He moved with a deliberate tread, stopping halfway across the distance to face the guards calmly, waiting on a reply to his challenge. The sling made moving far easier, but he was ill to begin with and the damage had already been done. It was taking a great deal of effort to keep his surroundings in focus. If the men facing him chose this moment to try and take him by force, he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight.

On the other hand, if all went well, he wouldn't have to.

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding when the guards parted to make way for a solitary, lean figure stepping out of the shadows. Bayushi was here after all, worn face pale and dispassionate under the moonlight, eyes flicking past him to Kaoru before settling on Kenshin once more.

"You have my word," he said at last. "These people can go. You will stay."

Kenshin inclined his head briefly in acknowledgment. His words were quiet. In the absolute stillness that surrounded them, they carried perfectly. "And then?"

"You know what will happen," Bayushi replied, steadily.

He gave a rueful smile at that. "Finally made up your mind?"

They stared at each other across the short distance. There was no indecision in Bayushi's gaze now; nothing more than a quiet certainty to his stance that gave Kenshin the answer to his question. He felt the faint edge of disappointment. Much as he knew it hadn't been likely, he would have far preferred to settle the older man's grudge without resorting to harsher measures … but if Sano and the others refused to leave without him, he had little choice.

He wondered how much time Aoshi would need.

"I wasn't sure about you, Battousai," Bayushi said, breaking the silence. "I admit to having second thoughts. But it appears Yamato was right to take matters into his own hands." He gave a short laugh. "You, with your broken collar bone and your fever, managing to incapacitate a man with a gun. I left you alive out of sympathy, and you prove to me that your weakness was a sham. I was a fool."

The accusation was both petulant and ridiculous. Kenshin felt the first stirrings of irritation. "I will defend my own life. Did you think I would sit there meekly and wait for an execution?"

"You told me you did not blame me for my actions," Bayushi shot back.

"I told you I couldn't blame you for attempting my death," Kenshin corrected sharply. "If you are going to hold my decision to stay alive against me, you are nothing but a child."

Way to go, Kenshin. Sano narrowed his eyes as the old man – Bayushi – shut his mouth, face whitening in anger. Real good idea - piss off the guy who controls the guns. Bayushi already wanted Kenshin dead. All he had to do was give the order, and the rurouni would be shot full of holes for that acid remark. Just what Kenshin was trying to achieve was lost on Sano; ‘buying time' surely didn't mean ‘taunt the enemy into killing you'. Either Kenshin's fever was eating away at his judgment, or the rurouni was indulging in some near-suicidal stalling tactics.

Or both. Sanosuke directed a worried glance into the trees, searching for any hint of a sniper. In which case, we're probably doomed.

"I could have them shoot you, here and now," Bayushi said coldly.

"I am sure they would be only too happy to do so." Kenshin replied. "The riflemen are Yamato's, are they not?"

"That hardly matters."

"Are you so certain you can trust him?" he asked, voice mild. "Do you know he threatened to shoot one of the guards at my door, simply because of the man's loyalty to you?"

Sano took a sharp breath. If the riflemen weren't loyal to Bayushi, Kenshin had possibly just invited a swift execution with that comment. He tensed, preparing to rise and try to tackle the rurouni out of harm's way. A gloved hand caught at his arm. Aoshi gave a minute shake of his head and mouthed something that took a moment for Sano to understand.

He knows what he's doing.

Bayushi sounded amused. "Don't bother, Battousai. I know what you're trying to do. You won't turn me against him."

"I am not trying to turn you against anyone, Bayushi-san," Kenshin said tiredly. "I am warning you."

"I don't need your warning," Bayushi retorted. "When you die, my business with Yamato will be resolved. He will have what he wants. There is no room for betrayal in our partnership. No matter what Yamato has in mind, there is nothing I can lose from this."

"I wasn't referring to betrayal."

"You speak of trust. I find it hard to believe you would be referring to anything else. And this conversation has gone on long enough."

Sano tried to jerk free from Aoshi's grip, as Bayushi raised a hand to gesture the men behind him forward. The old man had run out of patience; if they didn't do something now, they would lose Kenshin one way or another. He saw out of the corner of his eye Kaoru's hand sweep down to wrap around the hilt of her bokken, her other hand gripping the shoulder of Yahiko's gi tightly.

Kenshin took a step backward warily as the guards began their approach. Yet when he spoke, his tone was more thoughtful than nervous, speaking in a clear voice designed to carry to all present. "You place high regard on your honour, Bayushi-san. Are you prepared to lose that?"

Bayushi flung an arm out, halting the guards in their tracks. He was utterly still, eyes fixed on the redhead, an odd look on his face. Sano blinked. Score.

"… I fail to see how that is relevant," he said after a moment. "You have no idea what Yamato wants."

"It's easy to guess, once I consider what you could possibly offer him," Kenshin said, more quietly. "Financial backing. Influence. Or just a place to house his allies? He commands the tatters of an obsolete army. They follow him because he has offered them something in exchange – and considering their previous loyalty, I can only assume it is following some shred of Shishio Makoto's work."

Bayushi stared at him, surprise clearly etched on his face. "You-"

Kenshin didn't let him finish. "But Yamato knows he is no Shishio Makoto. He is not so ambitious as to try and take over Japan. Perhaps he merely plans a strike of vengeance for a dead lord? Is that close?" His words, soft to begin with, gradually sharpened with anger. "And he has come to you, a wealthy, former Shogunate supporter who has every reason to hate Battousai and the era Battousai helped to create. Because you will remove his biggest obstacle and deliver what he needs to succeed in his goals, regardless of any destruction he might leave in his wake … but you don't care about that, because in a few months, you will be dead and you won't have to see it. Tell me, Bayushi-san: what part of that is honourable?"

He had their full attention now; even Sano could pick the tension beginning to shape the atmosphere. The air fairly crackled with it. Bayushi was staring at Kenshin as if the rurouni had reached out and slapped him.

Perhaps he had, in a way. Sano didn't care much about Bayushi's reaction. He was more concerned with the men he couldn't see. Kenshin was managing to buy time, but he seemed intent on doing so by earning the animosity of everybody present. If he kept this up …

"You don't know what you're talking about," Bayushi said flatly. "You are accusing me of dishonour based on guesswork."

Kenshin tilted his head. "Am I wrong?"

… He was going to get shot. Sano didn't doubt at all that the riflemen were paying close attention to this conversation; if they hadn't already changed their aim to target Kenshin he'd be very surprised.

"It won't be like that!" Bayushi snarled. "He has no intention of involving innocents!"

"He may have told you that," Kenshin said steadily. "He may even have meant it. But I tell you this now: a man who is so set on getting his way that he will threaten his own allies with deathif he perceives that they are interfering … A man like that is not one you can trust to keep the innocent uninvolved, Bayushi-san. Yamato is ruled by malice, not discipline. He has no self control. He is little more than a selfish child playing at war."

Bayushi's face was white with fury. "That's enough."

"At best, his malice will drive him to make mistakes, and he will be arrested swiftly." Kenshin pressed on. "The authorities will easily trace his backing to you. Your name will be dragged down along with his. At worst—"

"I said that's enough!"

And finally, Sano understood what Kenshin was trying to do. Whether or not he could drive a wedge between Yamato and Bayushi was irrelevant at this point; but by trying to do so, by insulting the man that those in the trees were loyal to, he was making of himself a very tempting target to those who wanted Yamato to succeed.

And if the riflemen were aiming at Kenshin—

"Sagara." He turned to meet Aoshi's intent stare. "Be ready to move. He'll need you."

Mark.

She was terrified. Not of the riflemen, or the others threatening their group. She was the okashira of the Oniwabanshu and self-nominated title or not, she had no business being frightened of such a situation in any case.

No. Makimachi Misao was terrified by the amount of trust Aoshi was putting in her with that one word. The kunai were still clutched between her fingers, held close to her chest in an attempt to keep them safe from prying eyes. She hadn't moved from her crouched position; had barely twitched since Aoshi had begun whispering to her.

There was no room for mistakes. If she didn't succeed, she'd be sealing everybody's fate with her actions. And yet Aoshi had asked her to do this – hadn't he noticed that it was her fault the guards were on high alert to begin with?

Only four warning shots were fired. They've stayed hidden to hide their numbers, rather than threaten us directly. It can be done, Misao.

She only hoped he was right in his estimate on how many targets there were. She was inclined to believe it, if only because their fight across the grounds had probably accounted for most of Bayushi's men to begin with. If there were more than a handful of gunmen, they would surely have been fired on long before the ambush at the wall. And she trusted in Aoshi's finely honed senses as the previous okashira.

If anyone could pick out hidden targets in the dark, it was Aoshi.

Twenty degrees to your right. Thirty feet. Nestled by the exposed root.

She barely paid attention to the conversation in the background. Kenshin was buying time; she didn't need to know more than that. She tuned it out, and instead turned her attention solely to Aoshi's almost sub-vocal guidance.

Fifteen degrees right. Thirty eight feet. Standing.

Misao traced the distance with her own meager awareness. They were hidden well; she doubted anyone else here save Kenshin could have noticed them, and he was probably too exhausted to do so. She could see the bare outline of a figure, once given a precise location. Even if she'd been unable to spot them, Aoshi knew they were there. That was good enough.

Thirty five degrees left. Fifty feet. Standing.

Only two on the right, then. She sighed.

Thirty seven degrees left. Forty two feet. Crouching.

Aoshi had been correct in his estimate.

Four riflemen, loosely paired on either side of them. Misao shifted her attention to the left, nervousness giving way to concentration as she lifted the kunai, waiting for her chance. Hard targets; she would have to take out one side and then the other. If the riflemen had still been paying attention to their group, it was an attack she would never have been able to make. As it was …

... it seemed he was wildly successful in his bid to draw their attention. Kenshin could feel the murderous weight of their regard; knew that Yamato's riflemen had almost certainly turned to focus their aim on him. He wondered how long their indecision would last. Let him continue speaking and they ran the risk that Kenshin would succeed at inspiring far more than doubt in the older man – but shoot him, and they would all but confirm his words. It was an uncertain choice they faced. Their hesitation to make it was keeping him alive.

"You don't want me to continue?" He was tired and in pain, and worn further still by the simple effort of standing under Bayushi's venomous regard and arguing him down. Control was beginning to slip; his words were more scathing than he would have liked. In more ways than one, Himura Kenshin had had enough. "Are you so unsure of yourself that my words can upset you that easily? For a man who places such emphasis on honour, you've barely given thought to the consequences of your actions. Either you‘ve let your hatred for me seriously cloud your judgment, or your honour was never more than an empty concept to begin with."

"You are nothing more than a butcher who murdered his way through the revolution at the whim of others," Bayushi snarled, voice sharp in retaliation. "What would you know?"

He took a breath, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to let the comment slide. A night ago, they'd discussed the paths of vengeance and honour in near civility, despite his imprisonment. And now? Any further down this path, and we'll start calling each other names. The older man was furious, glaring at him with utter hatred; yet there was also doubt in his eyes, now. At least some of Kenshin's words were making an impact.

"Bayushi-san—"

Bayushi laughed.

It was an odd, wounded sound that startled him into silence with its sheer unexpectedness. Kenshin shifted on his feet warily, watching the older man's amusement as it inevitably gave way to coughing, hand curled over his mouth. He wasn't the only one staring; the guards at Bayushi's side looked at him with a mixture of surprise and concern.

Kenshin's attention shifted away from him. He'd heard something else, masked by the laughter – the faint, surprised cry of a man somewhere to his left, and the soft thump of his fall.

Her timing was excellent.

He fought the urge to glance to the side, and instead kept his eyes on the man in front of him, as Bayushi smiled bitterly, dropping his hands to his sides. There was a faint trace of blood smeared across his knuckle. "I understand now," he said mildly. "I am a fool. Yamato told me, and I should have listened. You do a fine job at twisting perceptions, he said. He's right. You're very good. But I've tired of this now, Himura. I brought you here to do one thing, and I've let you delay me long enough."

He raised his voice slightly, turning away from Kenshin in dismissal.

"Shoot him."

And then the world descended into chaos.

No choice. With two riflemen still at large within the trees, Bayushi's order prompted Misao to desperate and reckless measures. She screamed as she threw the second brace of kunai with all the force she could muster, in the mad hope of diverting their attention away from their original target.

"Kansatsu tobikunai!"

The kunai skimmed the distance as she regained her balance, and she knew that she had been successful; instead of a gunshot, she heard the startled yelp as her knives found their mark. She wasn't aiming for a lethal strike, but she could certainly live with inflicting a bit of pain.

Her attempt at distraction came at a price. She saw Kenshin twist to stare at her in alarm as she heard the man's snarled insult from the trees. Given Misao's advance warning, the man by the tree root had managed to take cover. She froze even as instinct screamed at her to move, that he was going to shoot. Aoshi snatched her off her feet before she could react, his own swift reflexes carrying her out of harm's way as the rifleman fired, the bullet cracking into the wall where she'd just been.

She had a brief glimpse of Kaoru and Yahiko sprinting in the opposite direction for cover; of Sanosuke, murderous look on his face, running for Kenshin before Bayushi could recover enough to realise the rurouni wasn't going to be shot. And then she was all but dropped behind the shelter of a tree, as Aoshi's eyes raked her, searching for injury.

She gave him a bright, apologetic smile. "I missed one."

"One, I can deal with," he said. "Stay here."

He was gone before she could protest, vanishing into the trees. Misao gave him a count of five before she followed.

His concern for Misao almost cost Kenshin his life. The sound of a sword unsheathing directly behind him brought his attention back to the danger at hand, and he turned to see the blade swinging toward his neck. Somewhere in the trees, he heard Kaoru scream his name.

Focus, you idiot. Kenshin barely managed to jerk out of the blade's reach, his evasion swift enough to send him stumbling in an attempt to stay upright. The guard merely smiled faintly and lunged at him again, clearly confident in gaining an easy victory. Kenshin twisted aside, and felt the tug of the blade as it narrowly missed his lower jaw and plunged instead through the thick mass of his hair, sending fiery strands drifting to the grass. He reeled as the sword sheared free, and tried to keep focus as his sense of balance nearly gave way entirely.

A fist shot past his ear and slammed brutally into the guard's face, sending him sprawling. The hand dropped to catch him by the shoulder, hauling him backwards and out of harm's way. He staggered a step before he caught himself, and turned to see the torn edges of Sano's white jacket as his friend planted himself in front of Kenshin, glaring at Bayushi's guards. They were all approaching now, fanning out into a half-circle in front of them with swords out. Bayushi himself had retreated to the darkness of the tree line behind them, expression unreadable.

Five in total. Far too many for one bare-fisted fighter to deal with alone. "Sano—"

"Shut up, Kenshin," Sano said calmly. "You can't deal with them at all, and that's a fact."

Arguing was pointless; Kenshin stepped back to give him room. Sano cracked his knuckles, tossed him a rough grin and then turned to meet the attack of two of the guards. He sidestepped the first one's thrust easily enough, snagging the man's collar and throwing him head first into a tree before attempting to deal with the other. The second man, more wary, circled to his left, keeping Sano at sword's length. A third moved to join him, clearly intent on trapping the former gangster between them.

The last two chose to avoid Sanosuke altogether. Kenshin smiled humourlessly as they skirted the edge of the brewing fight, their gaze focused on him. Keep Sano occupied while you deal with me, is that it? Bayushi was obviously taking no chances. Between Sano and Aoshi, these guards would fall like the others; an attempt to kill him before Aoshi could arrive to balance the odds was hardly surprising. At least I know Sano can take care of himself against two of them. He shifted his stance to face them side on, protective of his right side, wishing that he'd taken the sakabatou back from Kaoru. Whether or not he was capable of wielding it well, the blade would have given him some measure of defense, rather than none at all. Reliance on footwork would only take him so far, particularly given his unsteady balance.

They attacked him together, one on either side of him with swords out, intent on cutting him down between them. Short on options, Kenshin let himself fall, dropping to the grass under the arc of their blades. He swept his foot out to trip the one on his right, and clenched his teeth as the jolt of the impact with the man's shins flared the pain of his shoulder anew.

That delays one, at least. His fingers curled on grass as he fought the pull of vertigo, and he twisted around to face the other guard. The man slid to a stop and turned with a snarl, taking a step toward him with sword raised … and was nearly knocked off his feet by a small blur of yellow and green. With a fierce yell, Yahiko swung the shinai into his ribs, hard enough to send him staggering, hand clutching his side in pain.

A cold hand touched Kenshin's shoulder, and he started as Kaoru slipped an arm around him, helping him to his feet. "Gomen," she said softly. "We were late."

He shook his head silently and accepted her support to stand. There were more important things to worry about. "Where—"

"Aoshi and Misao went to deal with the last rifleman," she said, cutting him off. Her bokken was firmly held at the ready in her other hand. "They're Oniwabanshu, they'll be fine. And so will the rest of us. Stop worrying and just rest, Kenshin."

Having taken the guard by surprise, Yahiko seemed intent on battering him into submission; his next strike drove into the man's gut, sending the man to the ground in a fit of coughing. His final attack settled the fight, shinai cracking down across his opponent's head. A look of smug satisfaction flitted briefly across his face before he recovered his serious look and glanced to Kenshin.

Kenshin smiled at him tiredly. Yahiko's victory might be largely due to his initial blindsiding of the guard – but a win was still a win.

One left; the guard Kenshin had tripped, now on his feet and staring incredulously at the small boy who'd just beaten his companion into insensibility. He shifted his gaze, from Yahiko, to Kaoru with her bokken in hand, and lastly to Kenshin himself, sizing up the odds. The guard spat an angry curse and attacked, moving fast across the grass, clearly intent on making a last effort at killing him.

And then something large hit the man, hard and fast, knocking him off his feet before he could react.

It took another moment before Kenshin came to the realization that the large object in question was, in fact, an unconscious body.

"Yo, Kenshin."

Sano was still grinning, wiping a trail of blood away from his cheek. He hadn't come through his fight unscathed. "Are we done yet? Because I'd really like to go home right about now."

You and me both.

"Not quite," he murmured aloud, shifting his gaze to the man standing in the shadows.

There was still one person left to deal with.

At the moment the riflemen failed to fire on Kenshin, Bayushi knew he had lost.

Only five, he'd thought. A gross underestimation of their capabilities. As soon as the girl had removed his sole advantage with her kunai, he knew; the men he had with him would not be enough to win a battle on the ground. He tried anyway. He sent them after the redhead, hoping they would cut him down before the thug could arrive at his side – and he had failed there, too.

He should have cut Kenshin down the moment he stepped forward.

He should never have listened.

Now, he watched them as the tall one waved off their concern for his health. Blood was spattered across his white jacket, but Bayushi had been watching long enough to know his wounds weren't serious. His gaze settled on Kenshin's wan features, studying every detail. The rurouni was clearly tired, resting much of his weight across the woman's shoulder without protest. His expression reflected concern for a friend's injuries, and guilt; emotions that Bayushi would rather not witness, given his attempt to cut the man down before his sharp words could unravel his resolve further. They reflected a humanity he'd long been trying to deny existed.

And yet, Bayushi did not turn away, even as Kenshin's gaze shifted from his friend with a murmur, and fastened instead on him.

He met that flat, violet stare with a calm one of his own, not moving from his place under the leaves. He supposed a wise man might have turned and left once he knew the outcome of the fight would be unfavourable. Bayushi chose to hold his ground, rather than run. He was the one who had drawn the lines of this battle. He would stay to the end.

He had nowhere to go, in any case.

Kenshin watched him for a long moment, in the sudden silence that had fallen. His men were all defeated; the one rifleman that had evaded the knives would certainly not have evaded Shinomori Aoshi's deadly efficiency. There was no-one left.

"Bayushi-san."

The redhead's voice was as flat as his gaze, spoken in a carefully neutral tone. Kenshin slid his arm from the woman's grip to stand unaided, padding slowly across the grass toward him until he was close enough that Bayushi could see the fine sweat that beaded across his chest. His allies made no move to stop him; merely moved quietly a step behind him to stand at his back.

Bayushi had no doubt that any move from him would cause them to intervene. He could have told them their protectiveness was unnecessary. He had no intention of attacking now, not when it was pointless.

Instead, he spoke, his tone deceptively mild, before Kenshin could find the words to denounce him. "You may be right about Yamato-san, Battousai. Perhaps my desire to exact vengeance has clouded my judgment. But even should I break my alliance with him – that changes nothing where you are concerned. You owe me a death."

Kenshin said nothing. He stared at Bayushi, unblinking, as if his words hadn't mattered. There was movement in the trees; Shinomori Aoshi, stepping from the shadows, the girl a step behind him with something in her arms. After a moment, Bayushi realised she was carrying rifles.

He gave a bitter smile. His last, minor hope gone; there would be no last minute reprisals. He had well and truly lost.

"Bayushi-san," Kenshin repeated finally, voice hollow with exhaustion. "For the crime of taking your son from you, I apologise from the bottom of my heart."

The words were unexpected. Bayushi almost gaped at him, hardly believing what he'd just said. Did he think an apology was going to suffice? And as he stood there, searching for an adequate response, the rurouni turned on his heel. It was only as Kamiya Kaoru nodded at his quiet request and moved forward to help him once more that Bayushi understood: Kenshin was walking away from him.

He stared for a moment, unwilling to believe. And then his temper broke. "You think that's enough?" he snarled. "Ten years mourning his death, and you think you can solve things with an apology?"

"I think it's all you're getting, old man." Sanosuke gave him an angry smile. "Considering what you've done, I'd say you're getting a pretty good deal."

He was silent again, jaw working as he struggled to get his anger under control, watching as they moved to join Aoshi and the girl. The rifles had been dropped unceremoniously to the ground. He bit back the urge to yell at them – he would only end up coughing on the grass, wasting his chance to retaliate at all. But he couldn't find the words that would bring them back.

Instead, almost plaintively, he said, "He killed my son."

There was no response - and a few moments later, they were gone, leaving him alone with his anger in the solitary darkness of the trees.