Revised June 14, 2993
Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X
Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works
Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment
All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me)
were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for
publication or sale.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A Meiji Murder
by Chiruken
~1880~
I have half an hour to decide how to tell Kaoru about my sudden
entrance into a profession in law enforcement.
I don’t know how to even bring up the subject in an inoffensive
way. I look away from my bowl of rice
and watch her carefully. She’s already
in a foul mood this morning it seems.
No matter what I say, it’s probably going to result with me on the
painful end of a bokken.
Kami-sama, how do I get myself into these messes? “Um…Kaoru-dono…” I begin hesitantly then
allow the words to trail off as my mind draws a blank. I can’t think of a suitable way to broach
this sensitive subject.
“What is it, Kenshin?”
She pauses with her hashi raised partway to her mouth, sapphire
blue eyes intent on my own, curiosity and a hit of worry revealed in their
depths.
“I’ll be starting a…um…job this evening, that I will.” I groan inwardly. Nothing quite like just blurting it out, Himura. Smooth, real smooth.
“I beg your pardon? Did
you just say you’re starting a job tonight?”
I nod slowly and offer her a bright smile, my usual cheerful rurouni
standby. “Why didn’t you tell me you
were looking for a job? What’ll you be
doing then? And why are you working at
night?” Her eyes widen and her hashi
clatter onto the floor. “Masaka! Kenshin, you can’t! Think of all those years as a rurouni…think
of all the regrets! Please, Kenshin,
don’t go back to being an assassin!”
“An…assassin?” I feel my
eyes go round in amazement. “Is that
what you believe? You think I’m
returning to the life of…hitokiri?” I
never would have thought she’d assume something like that.
“Well aren’t you? That is
what you were trying to say, isn’t it?”
I had no idea that she had such little faith in me. Somehow, I always thought that she believed
in me…no matter what the situation. I’m
a little hurt by this lack in trust she seems to be displaying
“No, Kaoru-dono, that isn’t what I was saying, that it is
not.” I sigh and set my bowl aside, my
appetite gone. “I’ve accepted the
position of Assistant Inspector in the Keishichou, that I have.”
“A…police officer?” There
is definite relief in her expression, which means she truly did believe I was
returning to the life I’d left behind all those years ago at the end of the
revolution.
“Y-you’re gonna be a…cop?!”
Up until now, Yahiko has remained silent throughout the exchange between
Kaoru and myself, but his incredulous shout leaves no doubt as to whether he
was paying attention or not. “You’re
kiddin’, right?” I shake my head and
offer him a reassuring smile. “Kenshin,
it’s dangerous bein’ a cop.” I refrain
from pointing out that as things are now my life is dangerous and adding
a uniform isn’t going to change things.
“Why Kenshin? You never
mentioned an interest in such things before, so why now?”
“It seemed the right thing to do, Kaoru-dono, that it did.” I can’t very well tell her the truth behind
this, not if I want her to speak to me again.
Kaoru would never forgive me if I implied this sudden interest in a
career in law enforcement was merely a way for me to help bring in money. She’s too proud to admit she needs help for
anything. Kaoru seems to believe it is
her mission in life to try to carry all responsibilities on her slender
shoulders. I wish she’d willingly let
those who care about her help with this burden.
“Wait a minute…you said you’re gonna be the Assistant Inspector,
right?” I nod in agreement, watching as
the boy’s frown deepens to a scowl.
“Doesn’t that mean you’ll be workin’ with Saito?” There’s a definite note of suspicion in his
narrowed eyes.
“Saito?” Kaoru leans
forward, her fist slamming onto the chabudai with enough force I jump
despite myself as the dishes rattle in their places. “Have you completely lost your mind? That delinquent cop is a lunatic. Have you already forgotten what he did to you? In case you have, I haven’t. He almost killed you, Kenshin!” Her voice is rising with her growing anxiety
and also contains a hint of accusation in her tone.
“But Kaoru-dono…” I fall silent at her furious glare. At least she isn’t throwing things…yet. It never fails to amaze me how someone as
sweet and kind as Kaoru usually is could have such a nasty and violent
temper. I’d like to say it’s part of
her charm, but since I’m usually on the receiving end of her anger, I just find
it painful. One look at the expression
in her flashing eyes and I begin to think that maybe I should start running now
before actually does start flinging objects at my head.
“Why would you agree to work with that man after everything he
did to you…and us? He almost killed
Sanosuke and ruined my wall and floor.
He held Yahiko, Megumi and I hostage and then he tried to kill you
before dragging you to Kyoto. He almost
got you killed in Kyoto, Kenshin. What
makes you think he can be trusted now?
What if he tries to kill you again?
What’ll you do then? Revert back
into Battousai again? What happens if
you can’t come out of it this time?”
She has valid concerns, even if they are misplaced. “You have nothing to worry about,
Kaoru-dono, that you do not. Neither
Saito nor I have any intentions of continuing that duel. I promise you, Kaoru-dono, I’ll never again
become hitokiri known as Battousai. I
don’t have to, not now, not after shishou risked his life to teach me
the Ama-Kakeru-Ryu-No-Hirameki.”
“You’ve already made up
your mind so no amount of reasoning will change it. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but if it’s something you
feel you want to do, I won’t try to stop you.
I don’t like it, but it’s your decision.” Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes suspiciously. That was too easy. I wonder why she gave up the argument so quickly.
“Kuso! I’m gonna
be late! Tae asked me to come early
today. Gotta go.” Yahiko jumps to his feet and hurries to the
shouji. “Be careful, Kenshin, all
right? Saito’s dangerous.” I smile as he slams the shouji shut. Yahiko is wise beyond his years, but he
really doesn’t have anything to worry about.
Saito is dangerous…but only if I let my guard down and I’m
certainly not foolish enough to do that.
“All right, Kenshin. I
want the real reason why you’re doing this.” I smile innocently and spread my hands in a noncommittal
gesture. I knew it. It had been too easy. “Don’t give me that look. I want the truth.” I look away with a shrug.
“You’re doing this because you think you have to help me financially,
right?” I blink in surprise but resist
the urge to answer. She sighs and
shakes her head. “I admit the extra
money would be nice, but not if you’re placing your life at risk to earn
it. You’re more important to me than a
new water bucket, you know.”
I shift uneasily under her steady gaze. I’m not comfortable with this turn in our conversation. Kaoru doesn’t usually discuss her feelings
with me. It isn’t that I don’t know she
cares for me, it’s just that I’m not particularly comfortable discussing matters
as intimate as this. I look down at the
surface of the chabudai…anywhere but into the entrancing blue of her eyes. “I didn’t realize the water bucket was in
need of replacement, that I did not.”
“You’re missing the point I’m
trying to make. All I’m saying is I
don’t want you to feel it necessary to place yourself in dangerous situations
out of some foolish sense of duty. Do
what you want, Kenshin, but not because you feel obligated.” She places the bowls on the tray and stands,
lifting it with her. “Come on…I’ll help
with the dishes. I don’t have to teach
today.” I stand slowly and frown as she
carries the tray to the kitchen. I wish
she would’ve told me she didn’t have to teach today. I wouldn’t have blurted out my career plans quite so…bluntly…if I
would’ve known I had more time to prepare a proper explanation.
***
Once the dishes are
washed and stored away again in their respective places, I step outside and
look around the deserted yard of the doujou thoughtfully. The laundry I washed before breakfast won’t
be dry yet and Yahiko swept the yard before his morning training. The garden is planted and I watered it after
doing the laundry. Nothing else needs
immediate attention. I shrug and step
off the engawa, heading for the bathhouse.
I have some free time to myself, so I may as well take care of some
details now…namely an alteration in my appearance. I have no wish to experience a repeat of yesterday’s embarrassing
stares.
An hour later, I emerge from the bathhouse into the bright sunlight. I certainly hope this helps to avoid
humiliating occurrences of mistaken gender.
I should probably check the uniform Saito gave me to make certain it’ll
fit. There are definite disadvantages
to being smaller than average. I frown
thoughtfully as I cross the yard. I
never really dwelled on it before, but I suppose others would see my lack in
height as a hindrance. Somehow, I’ve
always thought of it as more of an asset.
I’m smaller, therefore quicker.
I can also get into places other, larger men can’t. I shake my head with a grin. In my mind, that amounts to more than
adequate compensation.
I slide the shouji open and step into my room out of the
bright sunlight. I blink as my eyes
slowly adjust to the dim interior. I
doubt Saito overlooked my size when he arranged for my uniform, but it’s better
to be certain. Who knows if his sense
of humor took a turn towards the devious?
It would be just like him to give me a uniform that’s too big and expect
me to make the alterations before my shift tonight.
A short time later, I tug on the jacket’s hem and study the
cuffs. It isn’t too bad of a fit. I’m impressed. I frown at my sakabatou and purse my lips thoughtfully. How am I supposed to carry it without a
proper obi? I study the uniform
belt for a moment. Well…if it works for
Saito…I tuck the saya through the belt and grimace in discomfort. This doesn’t seem right to me. Maybe if I wore it a little looser I’d be
able to carry the sakabatou and still be able to breathe.
I pause in the act of loosening the belt and tilt my head to the
side curiously as I sense an approaching ki.
I think it’s Saito, but there’s something odd about his ki. I frown and quickly finish loosening the
belt. I reach for the boots and step
towards the shouji, pausing for a moment to admire the glossy black
surface. There’s something very
appealing about the highly polished surface of these western-style boots. I shake myself out of my reverie and smile a
little at my fanciful thoughts.
“Kenshin!” I slide the shouji
open and smile at Kaoru. She blinks in
surprise and stares at my uniform for a moment then gasps when her eyes focus
on my recent haircut. “Um…Saito wants
to see you.”
“Thank you, Kaoru-dono.”
I wait for her to move so I can step outside, but she only continues to
stare at me. “Kaoru-dono?” She’s still staring at me. I sigh inwardly. It can’t be all that bad.
I admit that I may not have as steady a hand as those professional
westerners who’s sole duty is to cut hair, but from what I saw in the mirror it
would pass. Though not as short as it
probably should’ve been, I am quite pleased with the results.
She blinks and shakes her head with a light blush staining her
cheeks a soft pink. “Sorry.” She steps back quickly, eyes still focused
on my short hair. “He’s in the front
yard.”
I nod and sit on the edge of the engawa. “I wonder what he wants.” I look up at her as I struggle to pull the
first boot on. This is going to take
some getting used to I think. “Did he
say why he’s here?” I reach for the
second boot and wince when my sakabatou twists into my side uncomfortably. There has to be a better way of doing
things…there just has to be.
“No, he didn’t. He just
demanded to see you in that superior tone of his. Arrogant jerk.” I suppress
a grin when she glares in his general direction. “I hope he doesn’t come around often. I can’t like that man.”
“Now, now Kaoru-dono, there’s no need to be upset, that there is
not.” I stand slowly, readjusting the
saya thrust through my belt so it doesn’t poke me in the side. “It’s inevitable that Saito comes here now
that we’re working together. Maybe with
a little effort we can come to some arrangement where we can all get along.”
“I doubt it.” She folds
her arms over her chest, a familiar stubborn tilt to her chin. “If he stops calling me names maybe things
could be different.”
I have to admit that she has a valid complaint, but I doubt Saito
will agree to cooperate. I shrug and
head for the front yard where he’s waiting.
“Stranger things have happened, Kaoru-dono, that they have.”
I turn the corner but before I can ask what he’s doing here, he
steps forward, a grim expression tightening his features. “Good.
You’re in uniform. Let’s go.”
“Go? Go where?” I scowl at his back as he strides across the
yard to the front gate. “Wait a minute,
Saito. Where are we going?”
“An investigation, ahou.
What else?” I ignore the insult
and study how he’s wearing his katana.
His katana appears to be hanging with the edge downwards from his
belt…his saya is suspended it seems.
I’m never going to achieve that…I’m missing equipment needed for
suspending the saya. I make a quick
adjustment, however, and sigh in relief.
Much better. At least it isn’t
uncomfortable anymore. I’ll have to
look into finding a scabbard much like Saito’s if I want to carry my sakabatou
with any amount of ease.
I turn to Kaoru with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Kaoru-dono, that I am. I’m not certain how long I’ll be and I
didn’t get a chance to fold the laundry yet.”
She sighs and steps closer, a
worried frown puckering her brows, blue eyes shadowed with concern. “That’s all right, Kenshin. I’ll take care of it. Be careful.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to my cheek in a light
caress, and turns, dashing inside, out of sight.
I stare after her in surprise and raise a hand, pressing my
fingers to my cheek, the feel of her warm caress lingering. “If you’re finished dawdling, we’re still
expected, Battousai.”
I turn slowly, eyes narrowed in irritation, and scowl up at
him. “Don’t call me that.” I’m not surprised when he ignores my
displeasure.
He reaches inside his uniform jacket, withdrawing a folded sheet
of paper. He holds it out to me with an
infuriating smirk. “A special
dispensation allowing you to carry a katana.
It would be an embarrassment to the Keishichou if the Assistant
Inspector were to be arrested for the illegal bearing of arms.”
“I imagine it would be at that.”
I take the paper and tuck it inside my own jacket, not bothering to read
it. If Saito says it’s a special
dispensation, then it is. He wouldn’t
lie about something like that. “What
are we investigating?” I hurry to keep
up with his long strides. This is one
of those rare moments that I actually do feel hindered by my lack in
height. I hate trying to walk with
taller people.
“The murder of Akagawa Souseki, assistant to the Minister of
Finance.”
“Oh…” I frown thoughtfully and
glance at him from the corner of my eyes.
“Would this murder be connected to the other four that have been
mentioned in the newspapers?”
He scowls at me and snorts
derisively. “We won’t know that until
we begin the investigation, ahou.”
“Stop calling me an ahou, Saito.
There’s nothing wrong with my intelligence. It was an honest question, that it was.” And I’m supposed to work with him? I think I may have to become accustomed to
being aggravated on a frequent basis.
“Stop asking stupid questions
and walk faster.” I grit my teeth in
irritation but lengthen my strides.
Insufferable. Arrogant. Puffed up with self-importance… Oh yes, I
can see how this alliance is going to be unpleasant. I should’ve remembered the other times we worked together before
I agreed to do it again.
***
The overpowering scent of
blood assails my senses before we even enter the building. I feel my stomach heave, and then settle as
I purposely close my mind to the horror rising up within me. I ignore the stirrings of my other self…the
side I thought myself rid of for good after the completion of my training when
my shishou risked his life to teach me the succession technique of the Hiten
Mitsurugi Ryuu…the side of me most familiar with death…the hitokiri of the
revolution. This is something I didn't
anticipate. I hope it doesn't prove to
be problematic. I have no wish to ever
return to the coldness I’d felt back then.
"Inspector Fujita…thank kami-sama you're here." I pull my mind away from my inner turmoil
and focus instead on the pale officer addressing Saito with desperate urgency
colouring his tone, determined to ignore the uncertainty and fear the stirrings
create deep within myself. "It's a
real mess in there, Sir."
"Explain." I
glance at Saito and find his eyes on me, assessing. Of course…my ki. He
couldn't have failed to notice the abrupt shift in my ki. I wonder if he expected something like this
to happen. If he did, I wish he
would've warned me first, before we arrived here. It would’ve been nice to be prepared.
"It's just like I said, Sir. It's a real mess. You
have to see it for yourself to understand." I have a bad feeling about this.
If I can trust my judgment in this, I'd say whatever is inside has
severely rattled this officer's nerves.
I wonder what he means by mess.
Could it be that this is his first murder investigation? Somehow, I doubt that's the problem. Mess…his choice of words fills me with a
sense of foreboding.
Saito gestures for me to precede him and though I really don't
want to be the first to enter the building, I do it anyway. The moment I open the western-style door I
know we aren't dealing with just a 'normal' type of murder. Under the busy bustle and professional
detachment of the various officer's moving about is fear. Fear and horror. It's in their eyes and hushed voices. Some…if not most…of these officers are hardened veterans, their
lined faces and grim expressions attesting to this assumption. They shouldn't be disturbed by a man's death
to this extent.
Most of the activity seems to be focused around a door at the end
of a long hall. I glance over my shoulder
at Saito. "Should we…" He
nods abruptly, not allowing me to finish the question. I continue along the hall, the sickly-sweet
scent becoming stronger, overriding all other odors. As we continue down the corridor, I pause next to another door,
this one also closed. Something isn't
right. The scent of blood is much too
strong, overpowering everything else, crawling through my senses and
threatening to overwhelm me. I halt
before the closed door and frown, closing my eyes in concentration. There’s something about this door…something
tickling the edge of my awareness. A
curt tap on my shoulder brings me back to the present and I continue towards
the end of the hall, halting by the officers standing guard outside the
office. I don't want to open this
door. Something tells me I don't want
to see what's on the other side. I draw
in a shallow breath, forcing myself into cold detachment and open the door. "Well…" I step into the room and
grimace as my boots squish on the carpet.
"He was right. It is…messy." Though I’ve seen many gruesome things over
my lifetime and various forms of death from simple old age to the most vicious
of murders, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this before.
"Well?
Impressions?" I glance at
Saito to see he's studying the room with narrowed eyes.
I draw in a shallow breath, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the
stench of death and blood permeating the air in the office. "This isn't a normal murder, for one
thing." I step further into the
room as an older officer moves towards Saito, eyeing me curiously. I force all emotions to the back of my
consciousness. I can’t afford to let my
feelings get in the way of my first investigation. Looking on the scene with calm coldness, I can only describe this
scene as horribly gruesome. Brutality
of this caliber shouldn't be shocking for someone with a past such as mine,
though I have to admit the assassinations I conducted weren't quite so…messy. I hear the door open and then close. "No one saw the killer?" I direct the question to Saito without
taking my eyes off the blood-spattered room.
"No." I hear a
match being struck, followed by the acrid aroma of burning tobacco. I’m thankful to the contrasting scent. It takes my mind off the scent of so much
blood in such a confined space as this office.
"No one saw or heard anything.
The…body…was discovered by a clerk.
He's in another room being questioned."
"I doubt he'll have any helpful information." I study the room with careful detachment, my
composure returning finally. "The
killer came through the window." I
turn back to face him. He nods and
draws deeply on his cigarette, eyes moving over the room in much the same
manner mine had a moment before.
"Akagawa was killed instantly.
This…" I gesture at the room at large. "Occurred after his death."
"I agree. I can't
see someone remaining silent as he's being dismembered."
"What is the purpose behind such an act? Obviously, his death was only a small part
of this. Retribution? A warning?" I frown thoughtfully.
"Has anything been moved?"
He shakes his head silently, watching me intently. I turn away, pursing my lips in contemplation
as my eyes fall on each of the scattered remains of the victim. "Perhaps some answers lie in the
placement of the…parts." I wrinkle
my nose in distaste. I move forward and
suppress a shudder of revulsion at the squishing noise my boots make on the
blood-soaked carpet. I ignore the
stares of the other officers as I study the chopped up pieces of Akagawa
Souseki. There seems to be a lot of
blood on the floor, walls and ceiling.
I scowl at the dismembered limbs and then the walls before turning back
to Saito. "There's too much blood
for one body."
He nods and reaches over the desk, stubbing out
his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray.
I can’t say I like the smell emanating from it, but I will admit it’s
better than the alternative. "Yes,
there is." He straightens and
regards me solemnly. "However, one
body is all there is."
***
One body…or rather what’s left
of it…and enough blood for two. I
survey the walls and ceiling for a moment, ignoring the now silent officers,
feeling their eyes on my as I gingerly step around the room. Saito lights another cigarette, watching me
intently. I resist the urge to squirm
under his steady gaze. I stare at the
floor and silently count parts. I do
this twice, but still only come up with enough pieces for one person. There’s no mistake…there has to be another
body around somewhere.
I approach the open window and clear my mind of all but the
knowledge of a hitokiri. I stand
with my back to the window, visualizing Akagawa sitting in his office. My eyes fall on the chair at the desk. “He was killed here.” I point at the hole in the back of the
chair. I move into an alert stance as
if preparing for attack and hold my hands in the position needed if I were
holding a katana. I spring
forward, thrusting the imaginary katana.
“A single thrust.” I relax my
stance and turn back to Saito. “He was
dead before he knew someone was here.”
I look around, searching for the head.
I find it perched on a cabinet.
I frown and tilt my head to the side curiously. It’s like some kind of gruesome art with the
head as the central attraction. Why
would someone scatter all the other pieces of the dismembered body and then
take the time to place the head in such a careful way? I approach it slowly, studying it
carefully. “Hmm…” Without touching it,
I examine the severed head thoroughly before finally nodding decisively and
turning back to Saito. “Yes. A single thrust of a katana through the back
of the chair, through the back of his head, probably emerging from his
throat. Instant death. Virtually painless.”
Saito steps forward, drawing on his cigarette deeply. “I agree.
A fairly merciful death.”
“So why this mess?” I
gesture at the room at large.
He shrugs, moving closer to the open window and tosses his
cigarette out of it. I frown, but say
nothing. He doesn’t need me to tell him
that’s how fires are started. “As you
said before, a possible warning to others.
The question is, who?”
I turn back to the head and, ignoring my revulsion, lean
closer. Something seems a little odd
about this head. I look around quickly
and reach for a pen from the desk. I
push my distaste aside and grasp the blood-covered pen before turning back to
Akagawa’s head. I lean forward again,
inserting the pen into the gaping mouth.
“Hmm…”
Saito steps closer, scowling down at me. “What are you doing?” The other officers are also moving a little
closer, as if morbidly fascinated by my actions.
I move the pen around and frown thoughtfully. I reach up with a grimace of disgust and
poke a finger inside, ignoring several gasps of outrage behind me. “No tongue.” I step back and look around for something to wipe my hands on.
“Was that really necessary, Himura?” Saito looks more amused than censuring.
I nod and take the cloth a young officer holds out with a
grateful smile. “Yes, it was,
Inspector. Unless I overlooked it,
Akagawa’s tongue has been removed from the scene of his death.”
He leans closer, lowering his voice for my ears alone. “You’ve shocked the junior officers, Battousai.” He straightens and moves away from me,
staring at the floor and the grisly objects strewn around the room. “It’s difficult to be certain, but your
assumption may be correct. We won’t
know until everything has be categorized, but it does appear that the tongue is
missing.” I hope he doesn’t want me to
do the categorizing of body parts. I’m
already beginning to feel a little ill.
The stench of death is slipping past my careful detachment. I think I need to get some fresh air before
I am physically ill. That
wouldn’t be a very good first impression for these junior officers to have of
their new Assistant Inspector.
“Tanaka.”
The officer who gave me the cloth steps forward. “Sir?”
“See to it that the pieces are gathered and identified.” The young man, Tanaka, swallows audibly, but
nods sharply. “When it’s done, report
to me.”
“Yes, Sir.” He turns away
and gestures for his colleagues to approach him.
Saito motions to the door and I nod gratefully. “We will be in the next room, Tanaka.” I follow him from the bloody room and heave
a relieved sigh when the door closes behind us on the ghastly scene of carnage.
**To Be Continued…**
Definitions:
bokken: a wooden practice sword
hashi: chopsticks
masaka: No! Impossible! It can’t be!
chabudai: low eating table
shishou: master; teacher
kuso: 1. feces. 2. Damn it! Shit!
doujou’s: place for practice or tournament [martial arts]
yukata: informal summer kimono
haori: short jacket worn over kimono
engawa: veranda
Kaoru-dono: Miss Kaoru, archaic formal term of address, now obsolete
Meiji Era: 1868-1912
hitokiri: manslayer; literally people cutter
katana: Japanese sword
Battousai: nickname roughly meaning ‘sword-drawer’