[kenshinfanfics] Romancing the Wolf (prologue) draft

This is the prologue to my version of the courtship between Saitoh
Hajime and the woman who eventually became his wife, Tokio.  There
really was a historical Tokio, but this story is set in my own
ALTERNATE REALITY universe which I've called "The Nightwitch Tales" --
think of it as Rurouni Kenshin mixed with various supernatural and
paranormal elements.  Other stories in this alternate reality are:
        "Night Visitor"
        "All in the Family"
        "That Which Lingers"

WARNING:  Historical accuracy?  BAH!

As always, C&C is greatly appreciated!   ^_^

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    ROMANCING THE WOLF:  A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic (by MadamHydra)
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        Prologue: On the Hunt
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Disclaimer
    All rights and privileges to Rurouni Kenshin belong to Nobuhiro
Watsuki, Shuiesha, Sony Music Entertainment, and associated parties.
The characters of these series are used WITHOUT permission for the
purpose of entertainment only.  This work of fiction is not meant for
sale or profit.  Original portion of the fiction included here is
considered to be the sole property and copyrighted to the author.

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Text Conventions
    (  ) are character thoughts
       * ----- * ----- * marks the start and end of flashbacks
    [ ] denote visual or time notes

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[Tokyo, Meiji year 4]

    Saitoh Hajime lurked in the shadowy alleyway, patiently waiting...
but he was used to it.  Three years had passed since he assumed his
new identity as assistant police inspector, Fujita Goro, but nothing
had really changed.  He still hunted in the dark, murky shadows.

    (Where is that fool?  He was supposed to meet me a half hour ago.)

    Saitoh took a deep drag on his cigarette.  His informant was
carrying a list describing payoffs to numerous corrupt police
officials and the proof of such payoffs.  Naturally, those officials
were desperate to get a hold of those documents, either to destroy
them or to use them to blackmail the other people on the same list.

    He watched a thin, nervous man wandering down the street in his
direction.  The dull green patch on his clothes identified him as the
long-awaited informant.  The man kept glancing anxiously behind him as
he made his way toward Saitoh.

    Suddenly, during one of his glances backward, the man froze, a
look of terror on his face.  The informant then bolted, running right
past the arranged meeting place -- and Saitoh -- in his panic.  Just a
few seconds later, two shabbily dressed men also ran by in hot
pursuit.

    His path momentarily blocked by the people leisurely milling about
in the street, Saitoh swore silently as he dropped and ground out his
cigarette.  He was alone... the information deemed too sensitive...
the possibility of leaks too great.  But it seemed that all his
superiors' efforts at secrecy had been totally useless.

    (Of course there's been a leak.  There's too much at stake....),
thought Saitoh as he rudely forced his way through the crowds and took
off after the two thugs.
 
    The documents in question was very special.  Some police officials
were generally known to be corrupt, ready to strike an deal for the
right price.  But the men on this particular list had reputations of
being incorruptible... and they were willing to kill to keep those
reputations.

    The four men charged down the street, weaving among the shoppers,
shoving them aside,... whatever it took to keep moving.  The informant
glanced behind him once too often and crashed into a young woman who
had been busily chatting with her companion.  Packages flew everywhere
as both the young woman and the informant went sprawling.  He
scrambled to his feet and continued his flight, the thugs on his
heels.  The young lady was left sitting in the middle of the street,
slightly stunned.

    As Saitoh ran by her, he happened to glance at her face.  He
didn't pause or stop, but the image of her face lingered oddly in his
mind as he continued the chase.

-----------------------------------
 
    (The fool's panicking,) Saitoh thought irritably.  When the
informant had started ducking into narrow side streets and alleyways
in a frantic effort to lose his pursuers, it was inevitable that the
man would eventually be caught in a dead-end.
 
    Three blocks later, Saitoh's predictions were confirmed.  The thin
informant lay facedown in the dirt amid a growing puddle of blood.
Like a starving dog, one of the thugs was tearing at the man's
clothes, undoubtedly searching for the list.  The second hoodlum was
standing guard at the mouth of the alleyway.

    In a silent rush, Saitoh was on the second thug.  He slashed low,
hamstringing him.  He wanted the man alive for interrogation.
However, his scream of pain gave the first thug just enough warning.
Before Saitoh could reach him, the man ran for his life.

    Silently cursing, Saitoh stopped to hastily check the informant's
body.  No list.  He rose to his feet and set off after the remaining
attacker.

    Even with the headstart he received, the man could not lose
Saitoh, who was as swift and persistent as his nickname, the Mibu's
Wolf.  After a few more blocks, Saitoh had his prey cornered.

    "What do you want!?" the man blurted.

    "The list.  And the name of the man who hired you."  Saitoh give
him a brief, bone-chilling smile.
 
    "I can't!  I don't have it!"
 
    "Oh?  You killed him, didn't you?"
 
    "Yeah, but the guy didn't have it on him!  I swear!  I looked!"
 
    Saitoh shrugged.  "We'll see.  The name of your employer, then."
 
    The thug turned even paler and babbled, "NO!  I can't tell you
that!  He have me killed!"

    The only response to the man's begging and pleading was the rasp
of a drawn katana.

    "Okay, okay!  It was Noda!"
 
    Saitoh's eyes narrowed.  "Police subchief Noda?"
 
    "I'm not sure.  It was a fat guy, bald, and a pointed beard."
 
    (A fair description of Noda, indeed.)  Saitoh watched the shaking
man.  It seemed strange that Noda, certainly no fool, would entrust
such an important mission to a common street criminal.

    "And what were you supposed to do with the list afterward?"
 
    "We were supposed to go to the shrine at... URK!!!"  A razor sharp
shuriken abruptly buried itself deep into the man's forehead.  Saitoh
spun around, sword raised as the now dead thug twitched once, then
collapsed into a boneless heap.

    Saitoh's eyes scanned the area but found no trace of the assassin.
 After a few moments, he walked over to the dead man and searched the
body.  Again, no list.

    An eerie, sourceless voice demanded, "Where is it?"

    Saitoh caught a flicker of motion and casually batted away a
flurry of shurikens flung in his direction.  He waited a little
longer, but no further attacks came.

    Sheathing his sword, he lit another cigarette and headed back to
the informant's body.  Saitoh was in no particular hurry.  He had a
very good idea of what he would find.  Several minutes later, he was
standing over the body of the second thug.  Like the first attacker,
the second man had been killed by an expertly thrown shuriken.  The
informant's body appeared to have been moved since he left it.

    (Clever man, Noda.  He used the two common street criminals to
hide the real pursuer... a true assassin.)  Saitoh then frowned.  (The
informant didn't have the list.)

    He prodded the dead body of the second thug with his booted foot,
(This man was never close enough to get his hands on it.  The other
attacker was in my view at all times during the chase.  He didn't have
time to hide it and there was no one he could have given it to.  The
assassin doesn't appear to have it, otherwise, he wouldn't be asking
me for it.)

    (So... where is that list?)

    The prize in question wasn't a mere sheet of paper, but rather a
bundle of documents... evidence against every one of the so-called
incorruptible officials.  It wasn't large, but it still made a
noticeable....

    "....package," Saitoh muttered aloud, remembering the image of
packages and bundles being scattered all over the street.  It was just
possible that the list and the associated documents could have gotten
mixed with those packages, either deliberately or by accident.  Then
he remembered the owner of those packages -- the young woman who had
been knocked to the ground -- and her strangely familiar face.

    The image of the young woman immediately brought back memories of
Kyoto,...

    ....of a chilly spring season with abnormally heavy rains,...
    ....of a fierce battle with a red-haired man on a bridge,...
    ....of a bone-jarring drop into near-freezing floodwaters,...
    ....of sinking into cold, liquid darkness,...

    ....of darkness,...

    Then there were more memories... the sudden feel of damp, but
solid earth under his fingers,... and the pale figure of a beautiful
young woman looking down at him.

    ....a woman called Tokio....
 
-----------------------------------
(end of prologue)

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Like that was a big surprise, right?    ^_^;
 
Tentatively scheduled for part 1:
    Memories from Kyoto - a meeting beside floodwaters

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