Chapter 3: Under the Blood Moon

*Do-ryu-sen*!

Dirt and small stones exploded into the air, a deadly barrage that was, nonetheless, a mere feint for the true attack. As Kenshin had intended, his opponent brought both hands upward to shield his face, his weapon now uselessly high. He burst forward, streaking in through the screen of dirt, his katana slamming into the saya and flashing again, faster than ever, straight out. At the same time, he lowered his speeding form and twisted his body violently, turning the straight draw into a spiraling slash, cutting from the legs up. Shrieking wind spun dry leaves into a frenzy as the very air was sliced apart with the fury of the attack.

There was a sharp ripping sound as his blade caught the trailing edge of Okita's haori. Somehow, his opponent managed to fling himself aside, away from the curve of his blade. Landing on one hand, Okita Souji rolled himself further away and snapped his katana up ready to defend. Gritting his teeth, Kenshin forced himself to lunge forward. *The best defense is offense.* He could not afford to give the other man the offensive, or risked a repeat of their last encounter.

Slash, step, thrust. Dodge, turn, slash.

He was distantly aware of his body struggling to meet the demands of his will, and slowly losing. His heartbeat pounded raggedly, a noise in the background that meant nothing. He saw only his opponent, Okita Souji, his entire being focused on this adversary and nothing else. He did not know how long it had been, time was meaningless in the adrenaline-drenched dream world they fought in. At the back of his mind, a part of him still remembered his mission, but right now, there was only the deadly dance of steel and muscles, the razor-edge where oblivion waited for the slightest slip on either side.

He barely blocked Okita Souji's next attack, his trembling hands faltering under the powerful overhand blow. A flash of instinct made him jump backward, his left hand reacting faster than thought to smash aside the blade-tip thrusting for his stomach, his katana swinging out to drive his opponent back. Okita Souji backed out of reach, then closed in again.

Parry, jump back, slash. Side-step, lunge, strike.

His prey was fast, experienced, and in better condition than he was. The reminder from their last encounter burned him with the sweat of his exertion. It was bleeding the strength out of him, slowing him down. Soon, Okita Souji would get through to him. And all the while, he was watching for the telltale sign of the move that had given him his wound. He remembered the speed of the pinpoints of light, turning into a slash that opened his side. Whether or not his abused body had enough left to carry him through...

A part of him did not care; the rest of him howled for his enemy's blood.

***

The Shinsengumi headquarters was brightly-lit, but much too quiet. The only signs of life came from the small guard's stand on the front gate of the big building. There were only ten of them, half of them prowling the inside of the building. The five outside were disgruntled at having their Third Troop left behind to guard an empty building. After giving enough time to ensure the Hitokiri Battousai would not know of their involvement before hand, the First Troop had slipped off to support their captain to kill or capture the Hitokiri Battousai.

To add insult to injury, their vice-captain had just led ten of their remaining number to handle a skirmish near the British Embassy. The report indicated it as possibly involving the Ishin Shishi rebels, which made it important enough to investigate. To assuage their disappointment, they were playing a rowdy game of dice. Gambling was illegal, but who was going to see and report them?

As it was, there was one person who saw their gambling, but reporting to their superior was the last thing on the person's mind. The dark shape flowed into the shadows shed by the trees in the narrow strip of courtyard, and swiftly disappeared around a corner of the building. The five guards continued their game, blissfully unaware of the intruder.

***

"HYAAAAH ! !" Himura Battousai swung his katana in a vicious downward arc. Okita leapt backward and immediately swept a horizontal slash. Sparks flew as Battousai parried the blow and, using the momentum of the block turned his body in a half circle that placed him behind Okita. In the same motion, he swung his katana in powerful arc to the Captain's back. If it had connected solidly, Okita's body would have been cut in half.

But the Shinsengumi Captain had seen this move before. The moment he saw Battousai's body turning, he lunged forward as far as he could. Still, the end of the katana sliced into his lower back painfully and he staggered, grimacing with pain. But it served to crystallize his thoughts, and he turned the stagger into several quick steps to open the distance before whirling around.

Battousai was racing for him, but this time Okita did not let him take the offensive. He lowered his body for better balance and centered himself. From the corner of one eye, he saw his broken saya lying nearby. Without thinking, he kicked one half towards his enemy. The Battousai's katana flashed as he almost contemptuously swept the projectile aside. But that instance of diversion was enough. Okita's sword was angled horizontally as he leaned forward then exploded into motion.

One.

His right hand was a blur as he thrust straight for Battousai's throat. The other man's eyes had widened the moment he had leveled his katana, and that slight warning was the only thing saving him as he threw his body to the left and ducked. His katana angled up front to block but encountered air as Okita's next thrust sped towards the other man's right shoulder.

Two.

The Battousai's balance was still off from his desperate dodge. Okita's sword nicked him on the shoulder but in that split-second he managed to turn his blade slightly to block the thrust, twisting and trying to side-step out of the way. Okita's eyes blazed with determination as he put all his speed behind the final thrust. His arm disappeared from view.

Three.

Okita's katana plunged into Battousai's left shoulder. Before the other man could react, Okita turned the thrust into a powerful side slash, opening a long deep gash along the Battousai's shoulder and upper arm. Blood burst forth from the wound as his opponent's back hit a tree trunk marking the end of the clearing. The broken saya he had swept aside clattered unnoticed on the ground behind the combatants.

**Sankyoku Ittai Rouga Mekkyaku**

Okita saw the younger man ignore his heavily-bleeding wound and grip his katana two-handed, body tensing in preparation. Left, right, or up? His answer came as Battousai launched himself into the air, blade angled vertically down to pierce his head. Okita side-stepped the attack with less than an inch to spare, the sharp wind from the blade's passing hurting his face. He barely noticed the close miss, the next attack was coming.

From his lower position, his opponent's katana swept outward to cut off his knees. As he met Battousai's coldly burning eyes, he gritted his teeth and leapt forward. He saw realization flickered in the other man's eyes, saw him starting to turn his body, but Okita didn't give him the chance. Shouting hoarsely, he smashed his knee as hard as he could against his opponent's right side. His injured side.

A choked cry escaped from Battousai as the force of the blow sent him rolling to the ground. But before he fell out of reach, a last desperate twist of his wrist turned his blade to continue in its arc. Cold steel bit deeply into Okita's left thigh. With a pained gasp, Okita swayed and almost fell. Looking down, he saw a large gaping wound just above the back of his knee, bleeding profusely. Cramping pain shot up his entire left leg, but thankfully the blade did not cut into tendons. A cold shudder went up his spine. Another inch lower and that leg would have been disabled for life.

The Battousai had not yet risen from the ground but Okita was not sure his injured leg would support an attack. Instead, he stood there gulping some much-needed breath.

Himura Battousai had been pressing his attacks like a demon possessed, and it was taking its toll on both of them. From here, he could see his opponent's chest rising and falling in ragged breathing. The sound of his own pounding heart was loud in his ears, drowning all other sounds. He was covered in sweat, and his muscles ached with strain and fatigue. Aside from his leg, the chest and back wounds also throbbed painfully and it all conspired to sap his strength.

But the thing that shook him the most was the dull constricting pain in his chest, how his lungs seemed to struggle harder to fill with air than they had been a year ago.

He dismissed the fear with a stern mental scolding. This was no time to divide his attention with such trivial worry, or he might get his head handed to him by the assassin in front of him.

But the Battousai was wounded too. The shoulder wound was deep and the cut he had given him four days ago must not had time to heal properly. The kick he gave him should have re-opened the wound. As he watched, his opponent slowly dragged himself from the ground. He noticed with grim satisfaction that he was hunched around his right side, his left hand pressed against the wound. The black cloth prevented him from seeing if the wound was bleeding, but the man was obviously in pain.

***

Kenshin's world was centered around the wound in his right side, the wound that filled his entire body and mind with searing pain. The left palm pressed against it was wet with blood, soaking into the dark fabric of his gi, and more was seeping out. He could barely move that arm, the wide slash wound across his shoulder and upper arm burning with agony. The effort to stand up almost wrenched a scream from him, but he bit into his lower lip hard to contain it. The wind felt cold against his fevered flesh. Lifting a red-tinted vision, he saw Okita Souji standing a few yards from him.

He seemed to be favoring his left leg, so he did injure him there. But he had felt the bite and knew it was not enough to cripple the captain. He cursed silently - if his aim had held true, Okita would be as good as dead. Injured or not, Hitokiri Battousai could still take out a half-crippled man. But now, he was the one in danger. From the way his wounds were bleeding, he did not know how much time he had left before he would collapse from blood loss. Hell, Okita Souji would kill him long before that.

Time to toss the dice. And pray that it all went according to plan.

Taking a few deep breaths, he deliberately straightened up, ignoring the shrieking pain from his side. Keeping his left hand pressed there, he addressed his Shinsengumi rival with a voice that sounded reasonably normal. The captain would never know how much it cost him.

"I suppose this is the time when you call in your men."

The young captain raised his eyebrows in an innocent gesture. "Men?" he inquired mildly.

Kenshin fought a flutter of cold fear that rippled through his heart. More than his death, he feared that his mission would not succeed. Shut up, he cursed himself. He is lying.

He evenly said, "I mean those Shinsengumi First Troop that were hiding in the forest, waiting for your command to come out."

Okita Souji was silent for a while, gazing at him with an expressionless look so unfamiliar to his normally open face.

"How did you know?" he finally asked in his usual mild tone. "They are very well trained and you should have been too busy to notice their arrival."

Kenshin simply retorted, "Does it matter? Are you going to call them in or not?"

Souji silently scrutinized him again, before raising his left hand and made a sharp beckoning gesture. In an instant, the forest half surrounding the grass clearing came alive with twenty men clad in black garbs more reminiscent to ninja than Shinsengumi, all of them armed and ready.

***

The office that was located beside Okita Souji's room was bigger than the Captain's, with the same long windows facing the courtyard outside. Suddenly, the door swung open smoothly, without a sound. A dark shadow swiftly flowed in and shut the door just as quietly. A slight fiddling with the lock yield a soft click barely heard in the total silence. Only then did the shadow glide in towards the far wall, where a large stark calligraphy of the kanji 'Makoto' hung. The faint moonlight from the windows illuminated the figure, a slim tall form, androgynous in the night-black garb of an omnitsu. Gloved fingers ran along the edge of the simple wooden frame, looking for something. Suddenly they stopped.

For a moment, nothing happened, then the calligraphy smoothly swung away from the frame on its left side. Behind the canvas, a bulky steel safe was embedded into the wall. The omnitsu examined the metal tumbler set into the center of the safe carefully for a while, before pulling out wires and other esoteric equipment from his sleeves, and setting to work.

***

Watching the men stepped out of the woods, Kenshin dryly addressed Okita, "I thought I asked for a duel. If I wanted an audience, I would not have chosen such a remote location."

The members of Shinsengumi First Troop clutched their weapons tighter and eyed the former Ishin Shishi executioner warily, waiting for an order from their Captain to charge their enemy.

Okita smiled that same gentle smile and mildly answered Kenshin, "We are both samurai and we have our honors. But before that, I am Shinsengumi and you are Ishin Shishi. The responsibility to something greater than myself outweighs my own honor."

Resting the tip of his katana on the ground in front of him, he continued, "Should the situation be different, should neither of us owe our loyalty to such opposite forces, I would be honored to fight against such a skilled opponent in a duel. Even if I lose my life, I will have no regrets. " He smiled a bit sadly, "But, as it is ... Hitokiri Battousai is a powerful asset to the Ishin Shishi. And we who are in charge of preserving the safety of Kyoto must do whatever needs to be done to protect it. For whatever it is worth, I am sorry, Himura-san."

Kenshin regarded his opponent silently, the amber fire that had burned in his eyes during their entire fight losing some of its intensity. He quietly replied, "No need to apologize, Okita Souji. I understand perfectly."

Okita knotted his brow at that answer, his unease growing. The other man was much too calm. "Himura-san," he said softly, " I asked before and I will ask again. How did you know of my men's coming?" As his eyes met the Kenshin's now calm gaze, unafraid and far too composed to be a man possessed by revenge, his eyes suddenly widened. “Masaka... " He breathed, staring at the other man, "you...?"

Kenshin continued to hold his incredulous gaze for an instant, then he suddenly whirled around and broke into a mad dash for the far side of the clearing. He could hear the shouts that erupted behind him, but he ignored them, concentrating only on the uneven path. The pain in his side burst to full-blown agony. His left hand spasmed around it in a death grip, the fingers starting to go numb. He could taste blood where he had bitten through his lip, but he ignored it all. There was only one thing his mind concentrated on: the cliff.

***

The lock combination clicked softly and the thick steel door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Underneath the mask, a smile of professional pride spread across tense lips. The omnitsu quickly riffled through the folders of documents stacked inside, occasionally stopping to leaf through a few pages. He stopped when he found a folder containing personnel files. With just the faint illumination from the moon outside, he began to flip through the pages. Finishing in remarkably short time, he shoved the folder back into the safe and was searching through the pile when the faintest of sound outside the door froze him to the spot.

With a loud crash, the door to the office was kicked open. Standing silhouetted in the doorway was the tall frame of Saitou Hajime, his naked blade gleaming in his right hand.

***

His breath was coming in ragged bursts, his whole world had long since narrowed down into two things, his destination and the pain. He could barely feel the warmth of the blood covering his nerveless fingers. The open wound on his side had drenched his entire right side, and each jolting step sent a wave of fiery agony all over him. His legs were beginning to falter. But that did not matter now, he could see his target. Just a few more steps, climb the incline, just a few more steps... It became his litany, until he could hear the sound of water roaring meters below the cliff.

He instinctively stopped when he reached the jagged edge, the chasm yawning below him dark even to his keen eyesight. The moonlight could not reach into the narrow chasm and the river below was almost invisible, even though he could hear it.

Loud shouts and clanging weaponry signaled the arrival of the Shinsengumi. He staggered sideways to watch them as they stopped a few feet from him. Okita Souji was in the lead despite his wounded leg. White-faced and panting, he called out to him, "Give it up, Himura Battousai. There is no way out for you."

No way out? The man that stood on the edge of the cliff peeled his left hand away from his wounded side to grip his saya. Okita's eyes widened at the sight of the red-washed hand. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, the young samurai gave a little flick to his katana to clean it and calmly sheathed it.

The rest of the troop relaxed marginally at that, but Souji tensed, half expecting the Battousai to drop into his Battou-jutsu stance. He barely opened his mouth to warn his men when Himura Battousai's expressionless face broke into a smile for the first time, his cold eyes flashing with a manic mirth. Without another word, he spun around and leapt into the dark abyss below.

***

"Well, well. Look who's come to play in the wolf's den," the Shinsengumi captain smirked. He dropped into a low crouch and his naked blade was lifted level with his eyes, pointing slightly downward - the Gatotsu stance. "Step away from that safe," he ordered coldly, the smugness replaced with chilling menace, like the shadow of death.

A hundred possibilities spun through the intruder's mind, but there was only one course left. Just as Saitou Hajime dashed towards him, his long legs eating the distance between them with inhuman speed, the intruder's left wrist made a small flicking motion. Three small, thumb-sized black balls shot from the wrist into the safe. Upon impact, they exploded into small fireballs with a loud bang. In the confined space of the safe, fierce tongues of flame consumed the papers inside immediately.

The omnitsu did not wait to see the hazard he had caused. As soon as the little projectiles left his hand, he grabbed a nearby chair, threw it in Saitou's path, and somersaulted backward. Saitou Hajime did not slow down. The force of his strike smashed the chair into pieces, the blade piercing through to stab into the intruder's chest.

Cloth ripped in one long shallow tear as the somersault motion deflected the tip down the body, the backward momentum further reducing the impact of the attack. Landing on both palms, the omnitsu propelled himself further back, booted feet crashing into the tall windows and leading the rest of the body out of the building. He fell the two-stories down and landed rolling. Without stopping, the lithe figure bounded up the trees in the courtyard and flitted above the tall perimeter fence. The guards running out of the duty station had no chance whatsoever of catching him.

Saitou Hajime stood in front of the broken window, his face expressionless. He examined the tip of his katana, which was dripping a few droplets of blood. Then he looked at the fire still burning merrily in the safe, consuming top-secret documents of the Shinsengumi. His fists tightened.

The men below jumped back in shock as the rest of the window frame crashed to the ground, narrowly missing them.

***

Okita Souji stood stunned at the edge of the cliff. His men had surged forward the moment Hitokiri Battousai had leapt off the edge of the cliff, apparently to his death. But no amount of peering could break through the darkness of the river canyon.

His vice-captain approached him hesitantly, "Gumi-chou, what do we do now?"

The question snapped Okita back to reality. And with that came the last conversation with his enemy. "We are going back," he snapped. "I'm sure that Hitokiri Battousai was only a diversion, to lure us away from headquarters. It may already be too late, but we have to go anyway."

The other man nodded with wide eyes. Gritting his teeth, Okita turned around and prepared himself for a painful journey home.

***

The cold snapped him back to his rational mind. For a moment, water weighed him down all around, the strong current tumbling him. He completely lost his orientation and felt the first stirrings of panic. Just when he felt his lungs were about to burst, his flailing hand broke into air, and he pushed himself in that direction. When his head broke the surface, he gasped in sweet lungfuls of air, then sputtered as a wave slapped him on the face. He coughed out the water and concentrated on staying afloat.

The rocky sides of the narrow canyon swept past with frightening speed. By some miracle, his katana and wakizashi were still on his waist. He forced his stiff left hand to clutch at them, ignoring the voice that berated him for being a fool. He refused to lose his swords.

But he was not going to be able to stay afloat much longer either. The side wound that was forgotten in the sudden danger of drowning was starting to make its presence known again. The impact with the river surface and immersion in cold water was not helping. Where is that blasted rope? It was supposed to be near a fallen tree trunk, fifty meters from here. If they messed up in informing him, I'm going to kill them. If I survive.

Just as he swallowed another mouthful of river water, he could make out the dim outline of a large shape leaning halfway across the river, a meter above the surface. There! Mustering all the remaining strength in his body, he braced himself. As the current swept him below the tree trunk, he raised his free right hand into the air. Something thin slapped his arm hard just below the wrist. Grabbing at it desperately, he found his fingers wrapped around two thick twine ropes, strung horizontal across the river. Using the leverage, he pulled his head out of the churning water, but was too weak to do anything else.

"Hah, there you are!! I've been waiting for ages!" a cheerful bellow sounded above him and a pair of strong arms reached down to grab him by his arms and gi. He was pulled out of the water as if he weighed little more than a child and placed on the broad surface of the tree trunk. Lying on his back and gulping deep breaths, he found himself face-to-face with the widely-grinning face of his colleague.

"Kyosuke, " he coughed.

Kyosuke's grin grew even wider, if that was possible. "Maa, maa. You look like a drowned rat, Himura. " And with that the other man roared with laughter.

Kenshin winced at the volume and tried to get up - he did feel like a drowned rat -, when a savage pain blossomed from his side. With a weak cry, he fell back again, his left arm refusing to support him. He had lost all sensations from it.

Kyosuke stopped laughing and peered at him worriedly, "Oi, Himura, what's the matter? You hurt? Let me have a look." He started to pull at the soaked clothing.

"Don't..." Kenshin gasped at him before Kyosuke's hand accidentally pressed into his wound. The burst of agony that followed dimmed his sight and soon darkness enveloped him completely.

***

Notes :

BIG CREDIT ^__^

1. "Sankyoku Ittai Rouga Mekkyaku" = translates as "Three-in-one Annihilation of the Fang of the Wolf". Waiii! Serizawa Kamo-san, arigatou!! He was kind enough to explain the basic moves to me and let me borrow this name. Yep, this is HIS brain-child ^_^. And yes, it is based on Okita's true style ^^. The 'Sankyoku' consists of 3 strikes to the throat and both shoulders, all in one movement. The thrust can be turned into a horizontal slash, called 'hiratsuki' - a hallmark of Tennen Rishin Ryuu. In my version at least, Okita had the choice of when to turn the thrust into a slash, and when not to.

2. Okita Souji's style was the Tennen Rishin Style, the same as Kondou Isami and Hijikata Toshizou. And for those who notice the similarity to Saitou's Gatotsu - remember Saitou saying to Kenshin in their first duel, that his Gatotsu's horizontal slash was inspired from Hijikata's style, which is the same school as Okita's ^_^. One main difference between Okita's and Saitou's is that one relies more on speed, the other more on strength. (Of course, Saitou's true style was the left-hand single thrust, so...)

On to Chapter 4 : New Sparks in the Tinder

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