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Broken Pieces: Chapter 15 - battling pawns

by linay

Pawns living and dying,

We play the game.

From above, they formed the three points of a triangle: two warriors and one woman, entwined together in battle. From above, two grim pairs of eyes watched, waiting to see what their plot would unfold.

Both opponents stood, barely panting, at either end of the rooftop, their weapons drawn and ready. The apex of their triangle, Kaoru, was leaning against the railing, a horrified hand hovering over her gaping mouth. Her earlier anguished cry had elicited nothing from Kenshin and Aoshi but the hard and emotionless expressions of seasoned fighters.

Neither man spoke a word, as no words could hold meaning in their battle of wills. Instead, their spirits spoke through violence.

Aoshi, his icy blue eyes unreadable, stood straight with his twin blades gripped tightly in either hand. He studied his opponent thoughtfully, noting how heavy his breathing was becoming. Battousai, who stood with equal rigidity, held only his short sword in one hand. Through his thick red locks, the thinnest layer of sweat began to shine across his forehead. Forgotten was the sunshine, the green campus, the looming brick building. Forgotten were their already numerous wounds. Forgotten even was the young woman watching them. Their minds rose above all these in order to assess the other and attack mercilessly.

Aoshi flipped his twin swords into a backhand grip. “You were stronger then,” he commented coldly, “But now I have the advantage.”

Kenshin remained silent, his lips pinched together and his fingers wrapped tightly around his absurdly short sword. Despite his skill, with only the short sword he knew that Aoshi, with two blades, did indeed have the advantage. His amber eyes flicked briefly to Kaoru, who was staring at him, an expression of terror painted on her face.

“Weak.” Came the whisper.

Kenshin barely leaped out of the way of Aoshi’s blade. In the brief instant he had checked on Kaoru, Aoshi had jumped forward with lethal force. Kenshin skidded to a stop, frowning at his carelessness.

“Has she bewitched you into sloth?” Aoshi asked, his voice near taunting.

“Don’t use such fancy and unnecessary words!” Kenshin cried, rushing forward violently.

Their metal clashed fiercely with unrelenting force. To Kaoru, it seemed that the shadows of their blades tore into her own flesh. Torn between the two, she discovered between gasps of terror that she wished for neither one to win. For victory required one to die. Though she was originally attached to Aoshi, she found that she could not wish death upon Kenshin.

Aoshi had captured her from Kanryuu.

Kenshin had captured her from Hiko.

Though both were captors, neither was hateful. Aoshi had once been a calm presence and a faithful companion. Kenshin had become…

Kaoru’s stricken blue eyes filled with tears, watching captor fight captor and guardian battle guardian.

With both hands on the hilt of his sword, Kenshin twisted in midair and swung the sword around in a deadly jab. Aoshi caught the blade between his own. Sparks flew as the blades grated against one another. Kenshin threw his foot into Aoshi’s midsection and flipped out of the trap, landing a few feet away. He rose instantly, his short blade pulled back into a starting position.

“I won’t let you have her,” he growled.

“It almost sounds personal,” Aoshi replied coldly.

“It obviously is for you.”

“All the more reason for me to win!”

Neither known to hesitate, they both shot forward simultaneously, clashing again violently. The sharp ring of metal screamed in Kaoru’s ears, forcing her to drop to her knees. She watched, through her tears, as the two men attempted to kill one another.

She watched Battousai weave through Aoshi’s intricate swings, attempting to get close enough to use the short blade. Kaoru stifled a cry as Battousai stepped between Aoshi’s swings and prepared to plunge his sword into the other’s stomach. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind as she anticipated the result. First fear, then uncertainty. Aoshi had been her protector long before Kenshin. For years he had shadowed her, shielding her from death. Her loyalty to him ran deep, so much so that she had once before risked her life to protect him from Battousai. Kaoru certainly feared for his life as she watched Battousai’s sword plunging towards Aoshi’s midsection. However, she could not wholeheartedly wish for his victory over Battousai either.

Instants before death, Aoshi swivelled out of the sword’s path. Kaoru’s breathing stopped as she saw Aoshi whirl around, bringing one sword down in a deadly arc towards Kenshin’s unguarded neck. Again, fear and uncertainty filled the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She could not call Kenshin her friend and yet she was having trouble viewing him as an enemy. With surprise, she felt her heart leap into her throat from the fear that he would be killed. Though his death would mean release from Katsura’s political schemes, Kaoru could not find any desire within herself to see him dead.

Battousai twisted sharply and brought his blade up horizontally, blocking the swing. Aoshi bore down on Battousai’s sword with one hand and readied the other for another strike. But Battousai pulled back swiftly, the sound of grating metal screeching. Torn, Kaoru watched with wide, tearful eyes, unable to wish for either to win or lose. Each attack was a possible death, each parry was a stay of execution.

Battousai’s blade was swift and unreadable, piercing through Aoshi’s most carefully built defence positions. He ducked and leaped and circled with perfect rhythm, attempting to close in on Aoshi’s vulnerable spots.

His hands had been gentle, pulling her wrists free of the tightly wound rope. As the blackness of pain overtook her, Aoshi had gently carried her from her prison and brought her into the light of Takani Medical Centre.

Aoshi’s steps were measured, precise and exact as he slowly gained on Battousai, using the whirlwind speed of his twin blades to push Kenshin back.

Through the black haze of smoke and dirty leers, he had emerged and come to her pleading arms. In the nightmare of the Sakura Tea House, Kenshin had lifted her to her feet and shielded her from harm.

Battousai’s short blade slid along the length of Aoshi’s sword, aiming to pierce his skull.

Aoshi’s tall form loomed in front of her as his hand tightly grasped hers, pulling her through dark alleys and away from Kanryu’s torture.

Ducking under Battousai’s lunge, Aoshi swung the other blade in a low, backhanded slash toward his opponent’s lower body.

The feel of Kenshin’s chest against her back as he pulled her into himself, standing with her against the taunts of her classmates.

Battousai leapt clear of Aoshi’s swing. Spinning around, he aimed to cleave Aoshi from hip to shoulder.

The sound of Aoshi’s desperate cry as he hurtled himself at an assassin in order to save her life.

Also pivoting, Aoshi’s steel met Battousai’s in a low clash of blades. With lightning speed, he jabbed his second sword at Battousai’s chest.

The smell of soap and cedar as Kenshin rubbed her skin with a washcloth, cleansing her.

Kaoru fell forward onto her hands, her tears like raindrops on the cement.

In response, Kenshin also lunged forward with lightning speed, stopping on a dime and twisting his sword so that it wound about Aoshi’s blade. The twist broke Aoshi’s grip for only a moment but it was enough. One of his swords flew from his hand, spinning away on the ground.

Kaoru looked up to see one of Aoshi’s swords slide to a stop a few metres in front of her. Their voices came to her ears.

“Battousai, you cannot win.”

“Don’t bother with your useless talk.”

“It is your struggle that is useless. I know you are weak with only that short sword.”

“You will not take her.”

“I will indeed take her from you, shadow killer. Your corpse will rot and your soul descend into hell today.”

“That is yet to be seen.”

Again, the violent ring of steel against steel. And before her eyes, the bright shine of a discarded blade.

“What do you think she will do?”

Katsura glanced briefly at Hiko. “I cannot say for sure.”

“You seem to be very uncertain for someone with everything riding on the outcome of this fight,” Hiko snorted.

“I am sure neither of our men will die today,” Katsura said softly, his eyes riveted to the battle beneath them.

“They look pretty intent of killing each other,” Hiko commented dryly.

“She won’t let them.”

Hiko turned incredulous eyes on his own boss. “You have that much faith in such a small girl?”

“Such a small girl with such large ideals,” Katsura mused aloud, “The key in our plan for atonement.”

Kaoru brushed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. Raising herself onto shaky legs, she watched the intense faces of the men fighting for her possession with clear eyes. Opposites and yet frighteningly similar in battle. She watched as they both grit their teeth, lunging and sidestepping in their dance of steel. If left to battle, one would certainly die by the other’s hand. She summoned all her courage into a long intake of breath, the choice made. Her mouth opened and she poured her soul into sound.

A heart-wrenching scream erupted, enough to shatter the eardrums. “Stop!”

Still deeply engaged in swordplay, Battousai’s eyes immediately whipped around toward the sound of her screamed command, plea, agony. For an instant, he pulled back and tried to discern the source of her pain. An instant was too much. In that one moment of inattention, Aoshi pushed forward. Too late, Battousai twisted out of the way. Aoshi’s cold blade tore through Kenshin’s left shoulder. Battousai gasped, fighting for consciousness, as the burning metal pulled back through his flesh, exiting his body. Forcing down the pain and struggling for alertness, Kenshin knocked the next strike away with his sword. Grasping his bleeding shoulder, he staggered backwards and collapsed to his knees, using his sword to support his weight.

“It ends, Battousai.” The cold, icy words left Aoshi’s tight lips as he launched himself into a final lunge.

On my honour, I will not try to escape Kenshin.

The sudden, unanticipated ring of clashing metal surprised both men.

“Kamiya-san!” Aoshi breathed unbelievingly. From above their crossed swords, Kaoru’s determined blue eyes met Aoshi’s.

Holding the hilt of his lost sword with both hands, Kaoru was pushing back his attack. For a moment the blades staggered together from the pressure. Then, with flying sparks, the blades slid apart as both pulled out of the locked position. Kaoru let the momentum carry her as she swung around full circle. Their swords locked again in a violent clash, this time with Kaoru blocking horizontally.

“Kamiya-san,” Aoshi growled as their blades grated against each other, “You are blocking me from my goal.”

“And what is your goal, Aoshi-san?” Kaoru asked through tight lips, her eyes flashing. She twisted his sword away from hers and stepped back into a defensive stance, her sword in front of her.

“To protect you,” her former bodyguard answered, also stepping back but crouching into an attack position.

“Is fighting me a form of protection, Aoshi-san?”

“I must kill that man,” he stated in return, his voice flat.

“I can’t let you,” came Kaoru’s simply reply.

“You cannot stop me.”

“You’ll have to attack me, Aoshi-san,” she whispered softly.

“Kamiya-san, you are skilled with a sword,” Aoshi’s voice was low and quiet, “However, you would not draw my blood.”

“But,” Kaoru replied, her eyes set, “I will not let you kill him either.”

Aoshi straightened from his crouch, letting his sword hang at his side. He took a few, slow steps toward Kaoru, his eyes focused on hers.

“How will you defend him, then?” he asked, his voice low and intense.

Kaoru tensed but did not waver. Reaching out an arm, Aoshi pressed his open palm lightly onto the edge of the blade and slowly began to push forward. Just when the razor edge would have split his skin, Kaoru let the sword be pushed back ever so slightly. Aoshi continued to push and Kaoru continued to relent, until the blunt edge of the sword was nearly pressing against her shoulder. He slid his hand down lightly and let it rest over hers on the hilt of his sword.

“Give me the sword,” he said, his voice low but commanding, “And let me complete my mission.”

Kaoru’s hands gripped the hilt more tightly. “Your mission to kill him?”

“Ah,” Aoshi affirmed.

“I can’t,” Kaoru sighed softly, relinquishing her hold on his sword and taking a long step back. She held her arms out wide, her face set stubbornly.

“I can leap over you,” Aoshi informed her, now with a sword ready in each hand, “Make it easier on yourself, Kamiya-san, and get out of the way. This must be done.”

Kaoru suddenly spun on her heel and leapt toward Kenshin’s prone, panting form. She threw her arms around Kenshin’s neck and shoulders, covering him with her body. With one cheek pasted to his caked hair, Kaoru defiantly faced Aoshi’s stricken expression.

“I won’t let you,” she breathed softly.

“Kamiya-san,” Aoshi commanded steadily, “Get away from him!”

Kaoru swallowed and shook her head, her blue eyes wide.

“Get away,” Kenshin bit out, intentionally harsh.

Kaoru ignored him, choosing instead to press herself closer.

From within the cage of her arms, Kenshin’s eyes shone like those of a caged tiger. He ached to break free of her hold and fight his battle. However, the risk of her being hit in error grew greater by the second. He glared out at Aoshi, whose mouth had become a grim line.

Kaoru watched Aoshi’s shocked expression change to one of impassive severity. A moist layer of tears filmed over her blue eyes as she anticipated his next words.

“Why him?” Aoshi bit out, “Kamiya-san, why do you choose him?”

Her promise to Katsura seemed a grossly inadequate explanation in light of the hurt that she knew lay under his unreadable façade. In response, she could only close her eyes and shake her head apologetically.

“It’s over,” Katsura announced, still gazing at the figures below, “Make the call, Seijuro.”

Hiko flipped out a cell phone, dialling a familiar number. Below, with almost absurd banality, the ninja flipped one sword back into its sheath to warily answer his ringing phone.

“Get out of there,” Hiko stated shortly into the phone.

Raising an eyebrow, he watched from above as Aoshi’s head suddenly whipped around, his keen eyes obviously searching for the watcher.

“Why?” Aoshi’s voice buzzed back into Hiko’s ear.

“Because those are your orders, you idiot,” Hiko retorted.

“And Kamiya-san?”

“Leave her.”

Hiko and Katsura watched as Aoshi flipped the cell phone closed, nearly crushing it in his palm. The tiny figure below cleaned and secured his other long sword before concealing it beneath his beige overcoat. For a few still moments, the three resembled tiny figurines in a diorama, representing a scene in some tragic drama. Then Aoshi’s figure retreated backward swiftly, disappearing into the staircase silently with only a flick of his beige coat.

“Send the doctor.”

Katsura turned to his comrade, Hiko Seijuro, and nodded. Simultaneously, they departed from the window, each already aware of the next stage in their plot.

The singing of the bees, the sting of the sun on sweat and the crisp relief of a swift breeze; these comforts were completely overlooked as Kaoru pulled slowly away from Kenshin and rested on her knees in front of him. Still unmoving, Kenshin’s catlike eyes watched her. From his stony demeanour, Kaoru knew not to expect any gentleness or approval. Ignoring the way his eyes surveyed her every move, Kaoru slowly pulled off her loafers and neatly set them at her side. Unceremoniously, though not ungracefully, she pulled off her long knee socks, one by one. Leaning toward Kenshin, who was still using his sword as an upright support, Kaoru carefully grasped the opening of the knee sock with both hands and pulled it against the raw razor edge of Kenshin’s sword. The sock split neatly into two long pieces of blue, elastic material.

“What do you think you are doing?” Kenshin voice. Cold, hard, demanding.

Kaoru declined to answer. Instead, she repeated the same procedure with her other new sock. She gathered her socks, now in four long strips, and edged nearer to the assassin.

“Aren’t you going to put away your sword?” She asked, as if it were a normal thing to say.

In response, Kenshin’s eyes hardened and his knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword. Kaoru sighed, still edging even nearer with one placating palm outstretched. She reached for the collar of his trench coat. He flinched back abruptly. Another sigh.

“Are you going to bleed to death on this rooftop?”

“Why did you get in the way?” Kenshin’s voice was icy.

“I didn’t want anyone to die.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Kaoru’s eyes shot up, blazing. She grabbed the collar of his coat suddenly. “It didn’t look like you were about to beat him, you know? What’s with your attitude?”

“What is that to you, little girl?” Kenshin spat, glaring back, “It was none of your business.”

“How can you,” Kaoru snapped, “Be so ungrateful?”

“Ungrateful?” he snarled back, “A snip of a girl tries to defend me and I’m ungrateful? What good could a child like you do for me?”

“You jerk!” Kaoru yelled, her face contorting angrily as she pushed his shoulder away from her violently.

Just as suddenly, Kaoru’s hands flew to her mouth. Kenshin’s eyes narrowed furiously as he sucked the pain in through his teeth. The stupid, stupid girl.

“I,” she stuttered apologetically, “I am SO -”

“Sorry?” he cut in, his voice like steel, “You should’ve just stayed out of it then, little girl.”

The girl instantly looked down at her knees.

“I just wanted…” Her voice was small.

“What?” His voice was sharp.

She bowed her head even further, clasping her hands together until her knuckles were white. Her shoulders began to shake.

“Sorry.” Kaoru’s voice was tiny and soft, “I really am.”

He could only see the roots of her hair, her face completely hidden by thick bangs. From the slight shuddering of her shoulders, however, Kenshin could tell that the girl was crying. Frustration mounted slowly.

“Listen, girl-” he began impatiently.

“So I’m back to ‘girl’ again, am I?” Kaoru said softly, without looking up.

Kenshin stared at her, mouth agape. Kaoru shook her head, trying to discreetly brush the tears from her eyes. Slowly, she reached out again for his collar.

“What are you doing?” Kenshin asked sharply.

“Taking off your coat.” Her tone was clipped and impersonal.

“Why?”

“Your wound.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

After quickly cleaning and sheathing his blade, Kenshin shrugged off his coat while Kaoru waited, watching silently. He pulled his black shirt off, ignoring the stabbing pain that his shoulder dealt him. He heard, however, Kaoru’s hiss of disbelief as she laid eyes on the stab wound. Kenshin watched as she sprung into action as if dressing wounds was something she did everyday. She lifted his left arm and let his forearm rest on her own shoulder. One by one, the girl wound each piece of her ripped socks around his shoulder, covering the wound tightly. Using the giant safety pin from her black, pleated school skirt, she fastened the improvised bandage.

“You seem to have done this many times,” Kenshin noted blandly as Kaoru drew away again.

“Not bad for a snip of a girl?” she replied, smirking only slightly.

“Not terrible,” he commented dryly, slowly pulling his shirt over his head.

Kaoru, by impulse, reached out to help him tug the garment down gently over his chest. She held out the arm of his overcoat. Kenshin looked up at her sharply but Kaoru was already guiding his arm through the sleeve gently.

“Why did you get in the way?” He asked again calmly.

“I didn’t want anyone to die,” Kaoru repeated.

“Him?”

“Or you.” She was looking down again.

“Kaoru.”

She looked up.

“Your skill at dressing wounds is adequate.” It was the closest thing she’d get to an apology from him.

“Thank you,” she answered with a slight smile.

Kenshin pushed himself to his feet slowly, Kaoru rushing to help him up by the elbow.

He looked away into the already diminishing sun. “You couldn’t have stopped me like you stopped him,” he said quietly, the edge gone from his tone.

“I know.” Her voice was also quiet. And a little resigned.

“Ieyasu-sama, we couldn’t get any information out of the woman.”

Ieyasu Tokugawa, the man who held Bakufu’s strings, stared down at the limp, mangled body of a beautiful woman.

“She protected them?” A sigh.

“She wouldn’t tell us a single thing.”

“So,” Tokugawa said quietly, “We still don’t know what Choshu is up to.”

“No sir. There’s no dirt on Katsura or Takasugi to speak of.”

“But you think they’re planning something?”

“Yes sir.”

Another long, drawn out sigh.

“Find out who does their dirty work,” Tokugawa ordered, “Then, find me a spy.”

Kenshin walked surprisingly quickly for someone who had just received a stab wound to the shoulder. Kaoru skipped to keep up. As they neared the door to his apartment, Kenshin suddenly slowed. Just as they reached the door, he stopped abruptly and grabbed Kaoru’s arm before she could go further. Shooting her a meaningful glare, Kenshin pushed her behind him and reached for his short sword, nudging the already unlocked door open a crack.

The assassin moved to stand directly in front of the door. Suddenly, he sent the door flying with a violent kick, flicking the blade from its sheath with a flick of his thumb.

“Show yourself!” he demanded.

A tall, feminine figure rose from the couch in the half-light.

“Welcome back, Himura.”

Kaoru’s head suddenly bobbed into the light of the open doorway. Her eyes were wide with shock as she peered into the room.

“Megumi-san!”