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Against a Sea of Troubles: Chapter 5 - Friendship

by Haku Baikou ::: 09.Jan.2004

Noriya finished tying the line and climbed out of his boat onto the pier.  He wasn’t sure what he was doing here, at dock, in town.  He hadn’t had any specific plans when he’d left his house.  Just a vague notion of going somewhere else where he could be alone and think for a while.  But after stewing over dark thoughts that made him more and more depressed, he’d decided that perhaps solitude wasn’t what he sought after all.  And so he’d ended up here, in town center at the harbor.  

Now that he was here, though, he had no idea what he wanted to do.  Go to the inn for a warm cup of sake and some soba noodles?  Or visit the small temple for meditation? 

He decided on dinner, pragmatic man that he was. 

It had been months since he’d gone to the inn.  Council had him so busy these days, it was rare for him to have some time off like he’d had in the last few days.  He wondered when the next call from Takaharu-san would come, when young Etsuo would once again come knocking at his door during some ungodly hour in the night, hurrying him along so that some important document could be drafted.  It made Noriya want to yawn just thinking about it.

He hoped this lull in town activity would last.  He needed the next few days with Battousai to be as free of other obligations as possible.  Fumiko had been generous in granting three days, considering she was holding off her long-awaited revenge merely on her faith in Noriya’s word.  But even so, three days was not much time.  Not much time at all. 

The sound of a scuffle in an alleyway behind him interrupted his musings and made him pause. 

He heard harshly whispered voices in a fierce, explosive exchange.  Then the rough, thudding contact of fists on skin.  A quick gasp.  Angry mutterings.  And a moment later, the unmistakable hiss of steel being drawn. 

It wasn’t any of his damned business, Noriya thought, resisting scholarly curiosity.  It had been decades since he held a sword.  And only a very confident warrior or a very foolish one would rush into unknown danger alone and unarmed.  Noriya was neither of these.

He was about to continue on his way when he heard the sound of footsteps running and one of the combatants calling out:  “Akira!  Akira, you idiot!”

Etsuo’s voice, Noriya realized in surprise.  Young Etsuo’s voice, raised in anger.  Something Noriya had never heard before. 

He hesitated only a brief moment before he strode quickly back toward the alleyway where he found an uncharacteristically disgruntled Etsuo trying to catch his breath.  The young man’s back was against the wall and his hands were on his thighs, supporting himself.  He was winded, but seemed uninjured as far as Noriya could tell.  There was no one else in the alleyway.  No sign of any fight.

The only odd thing Noriya could notice was the fact that young Etsuo was carrying a set of swords. 

“You all right, boy?” he asked, deciding not to comment on the weapons.

The young man tensed for a moment, then relaxed when he saw who it was. 

“Sato-san!  Hai, I’m fine.  Quite all right.  Did we cause a disturbance?  I hope not.”

“I heard you call out.  Did someone attack you two?  Where’s Akira?  Should we go after him?” 

Noriya didn’t know young Akira very well.  But he did know that Akira, unlike Etsuo, was a hot-headed and stubborn young man, full of dreams of glory.  Noriya wouldn’t have put it past the young fool to go running off after their assailants in the hopes of catching them. 

“Iya, iya, Sato-san,” Etsuo said in disgust.  “No attack.  It was just the two of us here.”

Etsuo pushed off against the wall and began pacing back and forth in obvious consternation.

“Akira pulled his sword on me, Noriya,” said the young man, shaking his head, eyes wide.  “I can’t believe he did that.  That bastard!  We’ve been friends since we were little, Sato-san.  Kami-sama, he just drew his sword on me!  You don’t draw a sword against a friend!”

Reassured that the only wounded thing here was Etsuo’s pride and nothing else, Noriya relaxed a little and took the young man by the arm. 

“I’m going to the inn.  You look like you could use a drink.”

Noriya waited patiently as Etsuo hesitated, looking down the alley as if trying to decide whether or not to chase after his friend.  Etsuo shook his head, then, and dusted his hands off on his hakama.  Straightening his clothes until they looked presentable again, he fell into step beside Noriya, and the two of them headed for the inn.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” Etsuo muttered, calmer now.  It took a lot to get the young man upset.  But it didn’t take much at all to calm him down again.  Etsuo was simply like that: slow to anger, quick to forgive.  It was partly why Noriya was so fond of the young idiot. 

Noriya shrugged.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two fight before.”

Etsuo’s mouth quirked in thought.  “Akira’s been acting like an ass since we rescued the two survivors from that ship,” said the young man.  “I really think the glory’s gone to his head.” 

Etsuo looked at Noriya.  “We re-saved a couple of wet and tired merchants who’d already been saved by someone else, Sato-san.  That’s all.  Not like we did anything particularly impressive.  But a few words of praise from the council, and Shinzawa Miyoko blushing behind her fan as we walk by, and Akira suddenly thinks we’re a couple of heroes.”

“Saving someone from the rocky shore isn’t easy,” said Noriya, trying to cheer his glum young friend.  “It has its risks.”

“Hai, I suppose.”  Etsuo turned to him, his eyes earnest.  “But Akira wasn’t even the one who did it, Sato-san.  I had to go in myself.  Akira ca—“

He cut himself off, suddenly looking ashamed and somewhat embarrassed.

“What?” asked Noriya, genuinely curious now.

Etsuo sighed.  “He can’t even swim, Noriya.  Don’t tell anyone, eh?  That would kill him.” 

Noriya managed not to smile in amusement.  “I swear it.”

“I don’t know how you can live by the sea all your life and still not know how to swim,” Etsuo muttered, as they reached the inn and found themselves a table. 

Noriya politely hid his smile behind crossed hands as Etsuo fumbled with his swords, trying to sit without having them bash into the chairs and patrons behind him.  He didn’t entirely succeed.

“Since when did you start carrying those around?” asked the old scribe once the young man had made his apologies to those around him and finally settled down.

Etsuo glanced up, his face flushing red.  “What, the swords?  Since yesterday.  I’m still not quite used to them.”

“I can see that.”

“Oi, no need to rub it in now, Sato-san,” said Etsuo, scratching his head, his face flushing even deeper.  “Takaharu-san suggested we start carrying them.”

“Trouble brewing?” asked Noriya.

“Hai,” said the young man, and then broke off momentarily while the innkeeper’s wife brought a tray of sake.  “The brigands on the coastal road are acting up again.”

Noriya frowned.  “Which ones?  The former Ishin Shishi fighters or—“

“Hai, the Ishin Shishi deserters.  That’s the group.”

“I thought they went north,” said Noriya. 

“They did.  But they’re back.  At least, Takaharu-san believes so.  He hasn’t any proof yet, but traders and merchants have been attacked off the road again lately.  And council’s afraid the attacks are going to get worse.”

“They’re sure of this?” asked Noriya, frowning.  It was the first he’d heard of such news.

“Not yet,” admitted Etsuo, “Which is why they haven’t announced anything to the public just yet.  You’ll probably be hearing about it soon enough.  I’m sure Takaharu-san’s going to have plenty of work for a scribe soon.”

“I see,” said Noriya, not at all happy with the news.

“Anyway, they called for volunteers to form up a temporary guard.”

“And Akira decided you two ought to join up,” Noriya concluded.

Etsuo looked distinctly embarrassed.  “Council promised that anyone who signed up would be taught how to use a sword.  Akira said it was the perfect opportunity.”

Noriya looked long and hard at the young man across from him.  Akira, he could understand.  But how Etsuo agreed to be dragged into this was concerning.  The boy didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body.  “Etsuo, lad.  I mean no disrespect, but do you even know how to hold that thing?”

“Well, not yet.”  Despite his embarrassment, Etsuo’s chin lifted.  “But I’m a fast learner, Sato-san.”

Noriya lifted his eyebrows, but said no more.  He wanted to tell the boy to be careful.  Or better yet, to put away the ridiculous swords.  They didn’t suit him. 

But one didn’t say that to a young man.  Young men had their pride.

“Anyway, what are you doing in town, Noriya?  It’s strange seeing you here, seeing as you almost never come by anymore unless I drag you to come write something for us.”  It was obvious the boy was desperately trying to change the subject. 

Noriya decided to humor him for the moment.  “Eh, just trying to forget a lousy day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hideo clutched his belly and doubled over, laughing so hard he’d stopped making any sound and was now shaking and wheezing helplessly, unable to inhale.

Battousai looked at him, still very serious.  Perhaps slightly perplexed. 

“And Afterwards… Afterwards, it took us an hour to get his hakama out of that tree,” continued Hideo when he recovered his breath.  “And Noriya, the poor bastard, heh, wouldn’t touch sake again for a year after that.  A full year!” 

Hideo broke off into helpless fits of laughter again, nearly falling over on the mat.  That story never failed to amuse him no matter how many times he told it.  And it never failed to make any of his listeners double over as well. 

He took a shaky breath and sighed.  Even when he wasn’t tipsy on sake, he loved a good laugh.  He looked at Battousai, and his drink-soaked brain was smugly satisfied to see that even the hitokiri wasn’t immune to this particular tale. 

Battousai was smiling.  Granted, it was only the tiniest hint of one, at the corners of his mouth, barely detectable to one who wasn’t looking closely for it.  But a genuine smile it was, thought Hideo, rather amazed that he’d been able to do that to the hitokiri only an hour after he’d caught the boy crying. 

Even more amazing, he had to admit, was the change in his own comfort level with the boy.  He’d started the afternoon off quaking in fear, and here he was, only a few hours later, feeding him miso soup and telling embarrassing stories about Noriya that Noriya would most definitely not approve of had he been present.  (Served the old bastard right for leaving Hideo here to babysit, he thought with a little smirk.) 

Of course, the sake Hideo had ingested probably helped facilitate his current easy-going mood….

“I believe I may have had a little too much to drink,” Hideo admitted magnanimously.

“Aa,” was the hitokiri’s politic response. 

“Can’t blame me though,” Hideo said thoughtfully, “You made me nervous.”

“I have that effect on people,” said Battousai.  And after a moment’s hesitation:  “It’s not intentional.”

Hideo arched an eyebrow.  It was one of the longest speeches the boy had made yet. 

“Well, I may have overreacted a bit,” Hideo offered.  And since he’d made a fool of himself already, he plowed onward:  “Hell, if there’s anything I’ve learned over the years…it’s that I trust Noriya’s judgment more than I trust my own.  And Noriya seems to think you’re a decent enough man, despite what they say about you.”

“Sato-san could be wrong about me.”

Hideo blinked and suppressed a stray hiccough. 

 “Not damned likely,” he replied.  “Not when it comes to judging people.  If Noriya sees goodness in someone, then it’s sure to be there.”

Battousai didn’t say anything, but his doubt was clear.

Hideo squinted, suddenly wanting very much to explain something to the hitokiri.  He wasn’t sure why this was so important, or why he was suddenly almost angry, but it had to be said, and he had to make the assassin understand. 

“You may find this difficult to believe, but I wasn’t exactly the most respectable of citizens when I was a young man, Battousai.  Everyone thought I’d end up a criminal or dead in a ditch somewhere.  It’s true.”  He nodded for emphasis.  “And I probably would have.  But Noriya thought me worth befriending when no one else did.  He kept me out of trouble, and I’m forever grateful for that.  He’s a true friend, Noriya is.  And if he says you’re an honorable man, then I won’t question it, even if my own heart tells me you’re not to be trusted.”

He looked at the hitokiri across from him and wondered if he was getting his point across successfully.  “So do you see what I’m saying, Battousai?  On Noriya’s word alone, I’m sitting here talking with you.  Weaponless.  Even though my instincts are screaming for me to arm myself to the teeth, to run like hell out of here because, after all, I’m sitting in the same room as Hitokiri Battousai himself.”

His eyes widened as realization struck, as he became fully aware of what he had just confessed, and to whom he had just confessed it.  “What the hell did I just say?” he muttered to himself in growing horror.

He looked quickly over at Battousai, but the hitokiri didn’t seem offended or angry. 

Hideo sighed in relief, and vowed—not for the first time—never to drink so much sake again.

“You really trust your friend,” Battousai said in quiet wonder.

Hideo shrugged.  “That’s what friends do.”

Battousai was staring at him intently.  The assassin’s face, as always, was difficult to read, but Hideo thought he saw the unhappiness returning, an echo of that same look of regret and longing that had suffused the assassin’s face when his eyes had been filled with tears earlier in the evening.  The hitokiri’s golden eyes were dry now, but it really didn’t make a difference.  The sorrow was still there. 

For some reason, it made Hideo incredibly sad now, to see the boy like this, when before, he had only felt surprise and shock. 

“Oi, was it something I said?” he ventured.

Battousai shook his head.  “I’m a little tired,” was his response.

Hideo decided he definitely would be laying off the sake for a while.  It made him too damned emotional, and he was sure he was saying things tonight that he’d sorely regret tomorrow. 

“That’s understandable.  You’ve had a long day—“ 

He broke off, as the hitokiri tensed suddenly. 

Himura frowned, his eerie golden eyes losing focus as if he were concentrating on something far away.  It was uncanny, the assassin’s sudden strange behavior. 

“Someone’s coming,” said the assassin.

Huh?  “It’s probably Noriya—“

“I don’t think it’s Sato-san.”  Battousai frowned.

Hideo got up quickly and looked out the window.  He could see the faint glow of lanterns in the darkness at the top of the cliff trail. 

“Shit,” he hissed.  Whoever they were, they were still too far away to hear.  How Battousai knew they were coming was something Hideo was not sure he wanted to know.  He could feel his hair stand on end.  Didn’t matter how much sake he’d consumed that evening.  He suddenly felt cold. 

“We can’t let them see you,” he said, suddenly feeling more than adequately sober.

Battousai nodded. 

“I’ll stay here at the house,” continued Hideo.

He could tell Battousai didn’t approve.

“They’ll have seen the light from the house,” he explained.  “If on one’s here, and it’s someone from the council, they’ll end up questioning Noriya.  I need to stay.”

“And if they’re not from the council?” asked the hitokiri.

Hideo shuddered.  He didn’t really want to think about that.  The cliff trail was fairly safe nowadays, but in months past, there had been bandits and brigands who roamed the countryside, killing indiscriminately and without remorse.  Hideo had no intention of leaving this world just quite yet. 

“Then there’s not much either of us could do, unless you think you’re up to fighting right now.”  And with the hitokiri still unsteady with his sword arm bandaged tightly to his chest, Hideo seriously doubted they’d stand a chance.  “Do you think you could walk a few dozen yards by yourself?” he asked. 

“I think so.”

“They’ll see you if you take a torch.  Can you see well enough in the dark without—What am I saying?  You’re Battousai.  Of course you can move in the dark.” 

Was it the sake that was making him babble?  Or was it nerves?

He rummaged quickly through Noriya’s shelves and took one of the scribe’s old gi  as well as the thickest blanket he could find.  “You’ve seen the tide pools where Isamu was playing earlier?  Out that window.  You’ve seen them, yes?”

“Hai,” said the assassin as Hideo helped him stand.  He helped Battousai put on the gi which was, of course, too large.  At least it didn’t drag on the ground, he saw with relief.  The last thing they needed was for Battousai to trip himself out there.

“Beyond them, in the cliff side, there’s a small cave.”  He handed the assassin the blanket.  “The entrance is low.  You’ll have to crawl to get in, but inside, it’s big enough for three or four men.  You think you can crawl in one-armed?”

“I’ve no choice,” said Battousai as he went a little unsteadily to the door. 

“Good luck,” said Hideo.  And a crazy thought struck him before the assassin went out:  “Oi, take this!” 

He took the assassin’s sakabattou out from a loose floorboard under Noriya’s futon where they had hidden it days before.  Hideo couldn’t believe what he was doing, and he had to force himself to move quickly before he thought better of the idea.  He held the sword out to Battousai.  “Just in case.  Take it.  Before I change my mind.”

The assassin’s eyes widened when he saw the weapon.  “I thought… I thought it was lost in the sea.”

“Well, obviously, it wasn’t.”

Battousai slowly reached for the weapon.

“You won’t try to escape,” said Hideo, before he let the hitokiri take it. 

“You have my word,” murmured the hitokiri as he wrapped the sword in the blanket and tucked both under his good arm.  The eerie golden eyes regarded the greengrocer a moment before the assassin nodded briefly and slipped out into the darkness.

Hideo took a deep breath, then sat down to wait for the visitors.  Whoever it was, they would be here soon. 

He tried to behave as if it were just another ordinary night.  He hoped it was a convincing act.

For once, he truly hoped it was that daft idiot Etsuo. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Etsuo sneezed. 

“It’s dark out,” he stated the obvious, as he glanced out the window. 

“I should be getting back home,” said Noriya, as he finished the last of his soba noodles.  “Hideo’s staying at my place, going through my sake supply, no doubt, since his own is long gone.  Better get back before it’s all gone.  Again.”

“Oh, maybe he’ll see Akira, then.” 

“Eh?  How so?”

Etsuo sighed.  “Oh, he’s off to find Battousai.  He’ll most likely stop by at your place along the way.”

Noriya froze.  Almost choked on his food. 

He set his chopsticks down and looked at Etsuo.  It took all of his self control to ask, as if only in passing interest:  “Battousai?”

“Hai.  Akira’s a fool.  I told him as much.”

“Etsuo,” Noriya said slowly, resisting the compulsion to grab the young man by the neck and shake the truth out of him.  “What exactly did you and Akira fight about this afternoon?  And what, exactly, has your friend gone and done?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” the young man sighed.  “Look, Sato-san, it’s a fool’s obsession.  You know the two survivors Akira and I rescued?   You know how they said a redheaded gaijin rescued them?  Well, one of them was fevered, but after he started to recover, he mentioned that he thought the man had a scar on his face.”

“A cross-shaped scar?”

“He didn’t know,” said Etsuo with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “He wasn’t sure, he said.  But then Akira started to wonder, and he asked them if they remembered what color the man’s eyes were.  And they said they weren’t sure.  But they thought the eyes were strange in some way.  They just didn’t remember why.”

“So Akira thinks it was Battousai.”

“He only hopes it was,” Etsuo snorted.  “The idiot.  Sure.  It would make perfect sense for the infamous Hitokiri Battousai to be skulking about in our little town.  And rescuing shogunate supporters, no less.” 

Etsuo grabbed his swords and carefully stood up, successfully avoiding the surrounding chairs this time. 

“Anyway, Akira’s got this crackpot theory that their savior was Battousai, and that Battousai didn’t die.  Everyone knows the hitokiri’s an immortal demon, right?  Of course.  So he’s hiding around in town somewhere, Akira thinks.  And Akira believes that Battousai is the one raiding the merchants on the coastal road, not the brigands.  So he’s taken it upon himself to go look for the assassin and bring him into the council.  Be the hero again.  Damned fool.” 

Etsuo sighed in emphatic frustration and crossed his arms, warming up to his rant. 

“Have you ever heard of such a hare-brained theory, Sato-san?  And even if it were true, what does that idiot think he’ll do with Battousai once he finds him?  Does he think Hitokiri Battousai is just going to surrender peacefully and come along with him to be presented to council? Kami-sama, that idiot.”

“It does sound pretty far-fetched,” said Noriya calmly, while his heart pounded like a hammer against his ribcage.

“It does, doesn’t it?  I told him he was a fool.  He got angry and questioned my loyalties to the town.  He dared to question me about my loyalties!  Next thing you know, we’re throwing punches in the alleyway.  And he pulls his damned sword on me.”  Etsuo made a visible effort to calm himself.  “That’s when he left.  He said he’d take a few friends with him.  He ought to pass by your house, Sato-san.  Perhaps Morimoto-san will talk some sense into him.”

“Hideo?  He might,” said Noriya, as he too stood up from the table. 

“Thanks for dinner, Sato-san.  You’ll have to allow me to return the favor someday soon,” said Etsuo as they paid for the food and then made their way out to the street.

“You’re welcome, my boy.”  Noriya smiled, hoping the strain didn’t show.  These necessary courtesies were driving him mad.  He waved in what he hoped was a relaxed, friendly manner, as Etsuo took his leave and turned and headed up the street toward home.

Noriya began to walk down toward the docks, glancing behind himself and watching Etsuo’s retreating form.  And when the boy finally rounded a corner, Noriya let his breath out in relief.  And ran like hell toward his boat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trip back was a blur.  He rowed like a madman and made it home in what was surely record time.  His heart pounded, and his palms sweated, and his brain played horrific scenarios of Akira and his friends catching Hideo and Battousai by surprise, and what would be the result of such a discovery.  All the versions he played out in his mind ended up in a bloody death for someone.  Akira slain by Battousai.  Battousai slain by Akira.  Or worse. 

Noriya wished his brain would stop tormenting him.

His house was in sight.  The lights were on, but he couldn’t see if anything was happening.  He beached the boat, not bothering to tie it, and sprinted the last few yards home. 

He heard angry shouting as he approached his door.  He slowed to a walk with an effort, and went inside.

Hideo and Akira were glaring at each other, with two of Akira’s friends standing behind him, looking sullen.  They all started at his arrival, tense and high strung to the last man. 

But Battousai was nowhere in sight, Noriya saw with relief. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” asked Noriya.

“I was just telling the kid what an idiot he is,” said Hideo.  He shook his head and arched an eyebrow, the perfect picture of wry amusement.  “You’re going to love this, Noriya.  Akira-san here, has been going around to the neighbors, asking everyone if they’ve seen Hitokiri Battousai.”

“Eh?”

“Yes, that was my reaction too.  Apparently, Hitokiri Battousai has been hiding out around these parts, drinking sake with the locals and fishing in his spare time—“

“I didn’t say that!”  Akira glared indignantly.  “You’re making light of a serious situation, Morimoto-san.”

“Am I?”  Hideo rolled his eyes.

“Akira,” Noriya interrupted the exchanged before it became heated again.  “What is going on here?  What makes you think Battousai’s hiding around here?”

“It’s a hunch, Sato-san.  Remember the survivors Etsuo and I found?  They mentioned their rescuer had red hair, a scar on his face, and strange eyes.  That sound familiar to you?”

“I thought their rescuer was a gaijin, Akira.”

“Who spoke perfect Japanese, Sato-san.  It sounds exactly like Battousai, doesn’t it?” asked Akira.  “I don’t think I’m crazy.”

“Iya, just stupid,” said Hideo.

“Hideo.”  Noriya frowned.  Enough was enough.  “No, Akira, it’s not crazy.  But it’s not very likely either.”

He put an arm about the young man and began steering him toward the door.  “Look, it’s late.  If you and Hideo want to argue some more, be my guest.  But not here, and not now.  I’m tired.  I’m going to sleep.  And I’ll thank you all if you leave my house and take your debate elsewhere.” 

That said, he had Akira out the door with a last friendly push on the shoulders.  “Of course,” said Akira with a slight look of guilt about him as if he’d just realized the hour and how rude he was being by arguing with Hideo in Noriya’s house while Noriya himself wasn’t even home.  “I apologize if I was rude, Morimoto-san.  But still, Battousai could be hiding around these parts.  I’d be careful if I were you.”

With that, Akira took his friends and left.  Noriya watched the young men walking up the cliffside from the doorway, turning to Hideo only when the boys were gone from sight. 

He looked questioningly at the greengrocer.

“He’s hiding in the cave,” answered Hideo.

“Kami-sama, Hideo.  He’ll freeze.”  Noriya grabbed a lantern and headed toward the cave.

“I left him a blanket.  He’ll be fine.”  Hideo joined him.

“Himura-san,” Noriya set the lantern down and crawled through the entrance.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.  The lantern by the entrance cast a dim light, only enough to make out shadows.  “Himura-san?”

Noriya felt a sudden urge to back away when a pair of eerie golden eyes slowly opened.  Glowing.  Disembodied in the darkness.  He suddenly understood the fear men talked about when they spoke of their memories of the hitokiri’s frightening eyes.

“Gomen, Sato-san,” came the assassin’s soft voice.  “I think I fell asleep.”

Noriya brought the lantern into the cave, and the eyes looked less demonic as the boy’s face came into view.

Himura looked exhausted, but otherwise seemed all right.  He was seated quietly with his back against the rock wall, blanket wrapped about him. 

And his sword in his lap. 

Noriya glanced up in surprise at Hideo as they helped the young man out.  He would never have imagined Hideo to allow the boy to have the weapon.

“I should leave,” Himura was saying, eyes glazed, his words slightly slurred from fatigue.  “Tonight.  I can’t stay here.  I have to go.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Noriya said to the lad, supporting him as he stumbled back to the house, careful of his arm.  The boy was barely able to make it back to the house, let alone anywhere beyond it.  “You’ve got several days worth of medicines and food to pay for, Battousai.  You think I’m just going to let you out of here without reimbursing me?”

The assassin’s tired eyes widened, then looked downwards in apology.

“He’s kidding, Himura.  It’s a joke,” said Hideo.

“Kami-sama, I’m not that stingy,” Noriya sighed. 

As they reached the house, and got Himura settled comfortably on his futon, Noriya finally allowed himself to relax after what seemed an eternity of anxiety.  He allowed Hideo to deal with the assassin’s dressing changes, content to sit and massage his temples, trying to ease the headache that had sneaked up on him unawares. 

“Kid’s worn out,” said Hideo as he came eventually to sit across from Noriya, two cups of sake in hand. 

“I see you returned his sword to him,” Noriya commented.

“Do you object?”

“Iya.”

Hideo scowled.  “Today was absolute hell, you know.  You owe me,” he said as he handed one of the cups to Noriya. 

“You’re a good man, Hideo.”

“Feh.  Shut up and think of a good toast.”

Noriya smiled tiredly and raised his glass to the greengrocer.  “To everlasting friendship.”

Hideo smiled wryly.  “Everlasting friendship,” he agreed.  “But don’t get too comfortable, you old coot.  You still owe me.”