[FFML] [fic][rk][cont] Rurouni Yahiko Chapter 11: The Peculiar Cocktail

[Abdiel]

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Rurouni Yahiko
A Rurouni Kenshin Continuation fic
By Chester Castañeda
chester.castaneda at gmail.com
gabriel_gabdiel at yahoo.com
http://www.fanfiction.net/~abdiel

Payback: This time, it's for real. Oh, and I hereby dub this the "true"
flashback chapter.

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Chapter 11: The Peculiar Cocktail
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Last midnight, just outside the perilous Shinshu cockpits, after the
demented horde of cockfighting fanatics had already dissipated...

"What are you doing here?" Yahiko bluntly reiterated the question
Soujiro posed to him earlier as he kept his distance from the insane and
imbalanced swordsman.

In the short time Yahiko had known Soujiro, he could never make heads or
tails out of the mysterious older boy's actions or intentions, as though
the Ten Ken was the logical extreme of the concepts of honne and tatemae.
'What lies behind your mask? An angel or a devil?'

"Well, if you really must know, I'm still at work right now... kind of,"
Soujiro explained mischievously. "The hours aren't so good, but the pay
is okay."

Yahiko's nostrils flared as he tried to interpret Soujiro's vague and
patronizing answer. In the end, he came up with an out-of-the-blue,
"You're working as a callboy or something?"

Though he didn't intend his query to appear as a joking insult at the
ex-Heaven Sword's expense, Yahiko had somehow unconsciously combined
Gan's raunchy wordplay and Minoe's non-sequiturs in his attempt to
extract more information from the superior swordsman; either that, or he
was just being an insufferable prick.

Had Soujiro been a lesser man, he would've sputtered and protested at
Yahiko's crass allegations. Fortunately, thanks to his traumatic
experiences as one of Shishio's elite army of assassins and mass
murderers... as well as his mostly unhinged mind... he possessed a
rather bizarre sense of humor.

At any rate, he chortled happily at Yahiko's jibe, much to the younger
boy's chagrin. "You're a funny guy, Yahiko-san. Fine, I give. No more
playing around. I'm here because I'm waiting for my boss. He went here
on a whim, so I acted as his escort. He should be about done with his
business by this time."

Though the information Soujiro provided was still a bit on the ambiguous
side, Yahiko now had something to work with. "Y-Your boss? Wait, your
boss has something to do with the false Battousai Group's complete
massacre, doesn't he? I mean, he has to be involved in this, o-or else
you wouldn't have bothered to snoop around the camp of those
doppelganger terrorists three weeks ago!"

Being an unapologetically lesser man than, say, the svelte and dignified
Soujiro, Yahiko sputtered, stuttered, and stammered his way throughout
his "interrogation" of the older man in embarrassing fashion. However,
he felt that his deductions were dead-on for the most part.

"I know that you killed Keisuke merely for Kyoko's sake and someone else
killed the rest of his gang, but what bothers me is why a group of lowly
criminals would call themselves the 'Battousai Group' anyway, especially
considering the public death threats that the _real_ Battousai Group has
made," the sixteen year old deduced before adding, "This smells like a
trap setup by your boss. Is it...?"

Soujiro shrugged, his features as forthcoming as when he first entered
Yahiko's line of sight earlier. "For your information, I had to mercy-
kill Keisuke-san because he was the only survivor of the false Battousai
Group's massacre." Yahiko winced at the memory of Keisuke's head rolling
on the ground like a wig-wearing watermelon. "The person or people who
attacked the entire troop actually castrated Keisuke-san for some
reason."

Yahiko didn't know that little tidbit. What an odd thing for the
Battousai-looking assassin to do to a mere copycat band of smalltime
crooks. Were they cultists of some sort? 'No, no. They were sending a
message; a message to Psycho-Kid's boss.' 

In any case, the Tokyo Samurai Descendant quickly realized that he was
getting off-topic. "So your boss set the fake Battousai Group up as a
trap of sorts to smoke the real Battousai Group out, but the genuine
article got away scot-free and left a grisly souvenir for him to boot.
What does your boss think of all this? What exactly are Akahori's
stalkers trying to say?"

"Wow. You actually figured things out. And here I thought you were
preparing to proverbially hang yourself on a noose with some of your
more dubious deductions," Soujiro candidly yet smilingly assessed.
"Well, if you really want to know what Akahori-san thinks about that
topic, then how about you ask him yourself? He's already coming this
way."

Yahiko turned and subsequently got his first non-shock of the early
morn; it was a "non-shock" because he'd already had suspicions regarding
the improbable coincidence headed towards him as his conversation with
Soujiro drew on. The man who'd just come out of the cockpits was both
the person whom Yahiko was looking for and the dignitary whom Soujiro
was guarding.

"Ah, there you are, Seta-kun. Good. It's time for us to go," the Oyakata
beckoned to Soujiro before spotting Yahiko. The bespectacled old man
then addressed the Son of Tokyo Samurai, stating, "Oh, it's you. You
came back. Well, if you're looking for Higashidani-kun, you just missed
him; he's already left for Suwa. But if you go now, you might still be
able to catch him."

"No, that's quite all right, Mister Akahori," Yahiko reassured the
Oyakata with a casual wave of his hand. "However, you yourself really
should be going back to your mansion or wherever; if Shishio Makoto's
own right-hand man couldn't catch the real Battousai Group in action,
then I'd be more worried about them if I were you. Your life is still in
peril even as we speak." Yet again, the teenager acted like a real smug
smartass after making his recent discovery.

Nonetheless, despite the sixteen year old's supposed bombshell, Tetsuo
Akahori didn't even miss a beat as he asked Soujiro, "Is he a friend of
yours, Seta-kun?" By friend, of course, he meant "former enemy that was
within your fighting caliber" or even "former fellow Juppon Gatana
member".

In turn, Soujiro giggled gaily at Akahori's loaded question. "He's
_that_ person, Akahori-san. The other prodigy I talked to you about, the
one that I fought in the East Valley's forest of bamboo groves...
Himura-san's prodigy, so to speak."

"Ah, so he is." Akahori nodded once, lowered his tinted spectacles and,
for the first time since they'd met, gave Yahiko a _real_ good look, his
scrutiny bordering on a full-body inspection with clothes on plus a 
wordless cross-examination of sorts.

What were the chances that the charge of Kenshin Kamiya (nee Himura)
himself, the original Hitokiri Battousai, was the same vindictive, foul-
mouthed, irritable, yet proud youngster he'd met just minutes ago? What
a turn of events this was! But then again, Shinshushin was a small town,
so the chances for this happening were greater than they would seem.

The middle-aged politician's eyes wandered towards the cloth-wrapped
sword that Soujiro reported to be a reverse-edged katana, which prompted
him to think, 'So Battousai's influence on the boy extended right down
to his accessories.'

Even with all of Yahiko's inborn sass, skepticism, and insolence,
Kenshin's impact on him was still quite apparent. Sticking with two
intolerably eccentric characters through thick and thin because his
sense of duty urged him to instill responsibility upon at least one of
them _and_ fighting a superior opponent for the sake of a girl's
troubled feelings were actions that had the earmarks of naive rurouni
idealism all over them, whether the boy was aware of it or not.

More importantly, something else about Yahiko intrigued Akahori. He'd
remembered overhearing the boy and his friends' backtalk about him in
the arena. Why was this significant? Well, sure, it'd be ridiculous to
attribute their "camaraderie through hatred" and "the power of
friendship against tyranny" as anything more than the asinine musings of
bitter youngsters. 

On the other hand, like a butterfly whose gentle wing flaps were able to
alter the course of a raging storm, the trio's determination to figure
out their androgynous chicken's gender led to the inauspicious downfall
of the luckless, amorous Suzaku.

Sanosuke was somehow able to strike down the infatuated and wide-open
Suzaku even though it looked downright scared to death right before the
match. Through a series of unconnected and inopportune events, the
peculiar chicken was swept up by twisting winds created from Yahiko's
petty malice, Minoe's relatively good intentions, Kamishimoemon's
boredom, Akahori's scheming, and Gan's stupidity and greed.

This was the notion of determinism in action, otherwise known as "fate",
"destiny", "karma", and "luck" to the more superstitious masses.

Just then, Akahori had an epiphany. What if he found a way to harness
probability, even random probability, to his advantage? Not exactly
control it at will, like some sort of mythological deity with magical
powers, but more of influence it by identifying the root cause of
chaos--the butterfly that averted the storm. 

It was a novel concept that the intellectuals would scoff and laugh at,
the religious would call blasphemy, and the layman would call insane,
but Akahori saw himself as way ahead of these simpletons and fools in 
terms of understanding the inner workings of nature.

As such, it was then and there that Tetsuo Akahori decided to make
Yahiko Myojin and his comrades a factor in the equation that was his
impending assassination. "Can I interest you in a little proposition,
Myojin-kun?"


***


The next morning, in the town of Nojiri, after Gan and Minoe went
straight inside the kitchen of the Sakaguchis' soba shop, the peculiar
chicken in tow...

"Okay, I'm back! What did I miss?" an out-of-breath and eye-bagged
Yahiko announced as he sashayed his way into the bustling restaurant.
From what he could see, the others had already started their mock trial
of the Great Big Idiot Gan, with Chizuru acting as judge, jury, and
executioner of the whole proceedings.

Still, she was more of a judge and executioner than the jury, what with
jury duty being nonexistent during that particular timeframe (plus, any
future attempt at incorporating jury duty into the Japanese justice
system was met with apathy and disapproval).

"YOSHI-BOY! Get your crazy-ass girlfriend away from me! Please, if you
have any sense of decency left in you at all, then you'd stop her from
harassing me or coming anywhere near _me_!" Gan pathetically pleaded as
he went on all fours and begged the Tokyo Samurai for some respite. He
was even doing that lip trembling thing that the seven-year-old Kenji
was so fond of; on him, it simply looked revolting.

"Buck up, Gan! You only reap what you sow." Yahiko bent down and patted
the groveling thug on the shoulder as the rest of the people in the room
nodded in joint agreement. Gan glared in kind at his so-called comrade's
betrayal before the latter stuck his tongue out in response. Undoubtedly,
there was no love lost between Gan and Yahiko.

"About time you came back," said the girl whom Yahiko viewed as Nagano's
Kaoru stand-in, complete with the penchant to hide her concern in such a
way that it could easily be misunderstood as irritation. Either that, or
she really was feeling annoyed at the time; one could never tell from
combative yet well-meaning girls like Kaoru Kamiya or Chizuru Raikouji.

"So? What's the plan now? Gan still owes the restaurant a hefty five
yen. I say we make Gan do manual labor or something until he pays off
all his food debts. Or until the whole police precinct that's acting as
some dumb politician's escorts goes back to work so we can have
brainless here arrested. On the other hand, he could just pay for his
crimes through some street justice; that's always a popular choice for
criminals of his ilk."

Yahiko scratched the side of his cheek ponderously at the Kaoru-look-
alike's suggestions, feeling as though she were making too big a deal of
Gan's debt dilemma.

Hell, Sanosuke Sagara (the man, the myth, the legend, and not Gan's
androgynous fowl) pulled this sort of crap all the time on Tae Sekihara
and the Akabeko, and he never suffered from _this_ sort of backlash.
Just because Gan looked like the bastard child of a warthog and a pirate
didn't mean that he should suffer more for relatively the same crime as
Sanosuke. 

Gan even started trying to make amends for his sins in his own misguided
way by attempting to resolve his gambling debt using a rooster he'd just
found to _gamble some more_. Sure, he tricked Yahiko into a betting
contest, and yes, the trouble that the big lug caused the recently
injured sixteen-year-old was not worth the effort, _and_ they were
nearly mauled by a hate-filled mob _because_ of that damned hen-cock,
not to mention the fact that Gan hit Yahiko with a large fish... "Y'know
what, Chizuru? Screw it. Let's just lynch him."

Chizuru nodded in curt affirmation as she lassoed Gan's neck with the
noose she'd just prepared.

"YOSHI-BOY!" Gan beseeched a second time to Yahiko during the moment
when the boy expected the hooligan to either make a run for it or try to
make his last stand then and there. This had the Tokyoite thinking--Gan
wasn't acting like the conceited jerk-ass punk Keisuke was when he was
alive, even though the goon could _play_ the part thanks to his thuggish
appearance.

Mostly, this monster of a man was silently accepting his punishment--
well, not silently, and definitely not willingly, but he wasn't trying
to muscle his way out of this quandary he'd created either. Yahiko just
had to at least give him credit for that.

"Okay, wait. On second thought, let's not hang him," Yahiko decided
after much deliberation--as in a _lot_ of deliberation, to Gan's
chagrin. "There's a better way of handling this situation... um,
obviously. No hanging. I was kidding earlier. Really."

Chizuru shrugged as she used the rope she had on Gan to hogtie the
enormous yet emasculated brute. "I'm way ahead of you, Yahiko. I'll just
borrow the Sakaguchi family sword 'Fuyutsuki' while we all force Gan to
disembowel himself with a kitchen knife. At least then he'll still have
his honor intact."

All the rest of the people in the room started to edge away from the
Raikouji granddaughter because of her macabre and extreme proposal, but
she didn't even seem to notice.

"No, NO! I don't what to commit genpuku!" Gan whined as he struggled
and, rather easily, broke through his binds with a simple flex of his
muscles. Chizuru recoiled in surprise.

"Seppuku, Gan-chi," Minoe calmly corrected.

"Whatever!" At that point, Gan was truly prepared to bolt, his supposed
sense of honor and shame be damned. Not that Yahiko could blame the man
for doing so--certainly not at that moment. Regardless, the Son of Tokyo
Samurai had to act fast.

"No. Just... no. Enough. I'll... I'll be the one to pay the tab," Yahiko
declared sullenly, as though he'd just lost a bet or something.

"W-What?" Gan sputtered as he did a double-take and a triple-take. He
rubbed his eyes as though he were dreaming. Yahiko Myojin--the person
who jinxed his otherwise successful food bet, the one who opposed
Sanosuke's eventual and rather successful entry into the cockpit scene
because he thought he/she/it was a hen, and the boy who kept on shooting
down each and every last idea the hooligan had ever made since the time
they met--had just bailed him out. "W-Why are you doing this?"

Through grit teeth, Yahiko elucidated, "I... l-lost our bet. You were
right about Sanosuke as far as cockfighting is concerned. If she, er,
_he_ can win a cockfight, then that makes _him_ a rooster," Apparently,
Yahiko _did_ lose a bet.

In the background, Satoru excitedly ventured, "So that makes the chicken
an Onnako, doesn't it? A rooster that looks like a hen? Guess that means
you owe me one, my Tamamo-no-Mae!"

"You're still fixated on that, dear?" Nonoko queried with a rather
girlish pout for a woman with a seventeen-year-old daughter. It was so
saccharine sweet that it compelled her husband to forget about their
debate.

Minoe tugged Satoru's sleeve to get his attention. "Actually, _this_
came fresh off Sano-chi." He handed the egg that Sanosuke laid earlier,
which made the police officer's shoulders slump in defeat.

Nonoko did a joyful jig and announced, "Guess what, darling? Looks like
I'll be the one who'll handle your paycheck for this month, thanks to
_my_ Otome prediction! Don't worry, I'll make sure to give you a big
enough allowance for your trip back to Yokohama!"

"You're still on to that, honey?" Satoru inquired with an inappropriate-
and-not-as-adorable pout that begged his wife to forget their continuing
bet through his comically inept attempt at cuteness.

Um, yeah. Uh, in your face, Yoshi-boy," Gan halfheartedly cheered once
he recovered from his shock, then grabbed the sixteen-year-old teenager
by the scruff of his shirt and whispered, "What are you playing at? I'm
not buying this sudden act of kindness one bit."

"Then don't. Jeez," Yahiko mumbled back. "I'm not doing this for you.
I'm not doing this for the Sakaguchis either. And I'm definitely not
doing this for Chizuru! I'm doing this because I have more important
things to attend to, and I don't want anymore distractions."
Unfortunately for the boy, his murmured denials weren't silent enough
for Chizuru's sharp ears to miss.

"Oh, excuse us for imposing on you, mister _freeloader_ whom we took
care of after you'd nearly gotten yourself killed," Chizuru needled,
laying down her guilt-trip upon Yahiko in thick helpings despite the
fact that it was the Sakaguchis, not her, whom the boy should be most
thankful to. "But I hardly believe that--What? Fifty, sixty sen tops--is
enough to pay for the Goober Gan's debt. As I recall, that's more than
four yen short, even if you do add your pathetic rurouni travel money
with it."

"But Yahiko-chi only betted ten sen on the championship cockfight that
Sano-chi just won! It had high odds, so it should have given him enough
money to pay for Gan-chi's tab had the crowd not... rioted... because of
the... controversial win afterwards. Hehehe," Minoe unthinkingly
mentioned, which he soon regretted after he felt a withering stare or
two pierce into the back of his head. "What's that thing they say about
hindsight?"

"You WHAT?" Chizuru exploded as she pushed the one-eyed wimp aside and
confronted an indifferent Yahiko. "Were you condoning that big galoot's
actions? My goodness, Yahiko! I expected better from you! Not only did
you take your precious time in catching this hooligan, but you also went
to a cockfight and bet good money on it! You clueless hypocrite! No
wonder you and this big goof have become bosom buddies the minute you've
caught up with each other! You should get a room together! But before
you do that, you better force your BOYFRIEND to pay his DEBT first!"

Yahiko yawned as he tried his best to keep the retort brewing inside his
throat in check. He had no time to defend his actions to either his
supposed "girlfriend" or "boyfriend"; he had more important plans and
engagements to attend to. "Fine, fine. Whatever. But with that said, I
can safely assure you that I have enough money to pay for Gan's debt and
then some." In a more resentful tone, he supplemented, "Because he's the
one who won our bet anyway. It's his money."

Gan raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm really happy with you acting so
generously and all, but I have to ask: Where did you get the money?" 

"The reason I'm late is because I went back to check on Aka--Oyakata-
dono and Kami-what's-his-face, right? Well, by the time I arrived
outside the Shinshu Market, 'God' had already left the building, but the
Oyakata was still there. Surprisingly enough, he'd already straightened
out the whole mess with the angry mob. I don't know how he did it, but
I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So when I met with him,
he personally gave me the money that I... well, _you_ won from the
championship cockfight. And so here we are."

Gan seemed to brighten up for a second before his expression turned
dour and bleary once more. "That's all well and good, but I remember how
much you bet on Sanosuke. That's ten sen, Yoshi-boy. I don't know what
the hell the odds were, but there's a slim chance that you'd win more
than five yen from your joke of a vote of confidence."

"Oh, I don't know. How does a sixty-to-one-odds payoff plus the money I
won earlier sound to you?" Yahiko rhetorically asked as he produced a
bag of coins and gave it to Nonoko as payment. "There you go, ma'am." 

The Sakaguchi Matriarch could hardly contain her glee. She'd been
blessed with enough money from her husband and from the food bandit to
weather the storm of low soba demand from their recently terrorized
village. It was a fitting New Year's Gift for her and the soba shop.
However, since it was still autumn, she couldn't tell if it was an
advanced present or a belated one! Nevertheless, this was all thanks to
Sanosuke the Otome, her personal purveyor of good fortune!

Yahiko heaved a sigh of relief as he gave the remaining one yen to Gan.
'And that's that. No more peculiar chickens, cockfights, gambling, food
debts, and whatnot. No more Chizuru and her Kaoru-ish, raccoon-like
ways. No more Minoe, his fake wig, his eye patch, and his mind-screwing
speeches. Finally, no more Gan. Just... no more Gan.' The boy was about
to make his leave when he felt someone tug his shirt. "What?"

"YOSHI-BOY!" Gan screeched merrily as he threw his arms around the
flabbergasted teenager and tackled him to the floor. "You're so good to
me, even though I did all kinds of nasty things to you! I never had a
friend like you! Come here, you foul-mouthed, spiked-haired angel! I
could kiss you! Not that I would, but I'm so happy, I'm leaving it as
an option!" stated the bulky, hairy, sweaty, and altogether scary thug
as he easily manhandled Yahiko with the gentlest of unintentional
gropes, if "gentlest" meant "most bone-crushing".

"Hey, let go, you lummox! I don't swing that way! It's still not too
late to lynch you, y'know! ARRRRGGGH!" Yahiko remonstrated while being
smothered with violent, testosterone-filled affection. As it was, he
could barely keep himself from expelling yesterday's large servings of
soba all over Gan's face in revulsion.

"Okay, since you've gotten your boyfriend to pay his debt, you can now
get yourselves a room or something," Chizuru quipped as she helped the
giddy Nonoko count her money. "Everything is okay now, Yahiko. As far as
the food debt is concerned, Gan's off the hook!"

Gan let go of Yahiko and started to make a beeline towards Chizuru.
"YAHOO! Thanks for your support, KAORI-NEE...!" Unfortunately for Gan,
instead of getting to embrace "Kaori-neechan", he instead had a whole
lot of "Kaori knee" stuck to his severely abused groin.

"Since you like naming stuff so much, how about we call that little
maneuver the 'Two Balls, One Knee Special'?" Chizuru sneered as she
disdainfully looked down on Gan's crumpled form on the floor. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in the nearby village of Suwa, a timid young boy
sneezed, then hit his palm with a closed fist as he came up with yet
another new moniker for Yahiko's "Wrath of the End of the Era" crotch
kick technique.

"W-What about me?" Minoe meekly interjected amidst the raucous
celebration. He then cowered and retreated to a nearby corner of the
room after everyone's attention became focused on him. "N-Ninpou:
Kakuremi no Jutsu..." he pathetically moaned to no avail; he wasn't able
to disappear like the stealth ninja he wished he was.

Just a little while ago, Minoe was somewhat feeling kind of low because
he had nothing significant to add to the conversation. On that same
respect, Kyoko started attending to the few customers the soba shop had,
unnoticed by everyone else. 

"What _about_ you, Patches?" Gan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes
in an intimidating fashion at Minoe's "shrinking violet" pose. "Do I
also owe you money, Patches? DO I?"

"M-Monchiron! That's the reason why I chased you and Yahiko-chi in the
first place! You ate Raedo-sempai and my other comrades' meat buns,
remember?" Minoe was nearly in tears as Gan invaded his personal space
some more until they were both talking face-to-face. "That was a whole
plate of dumplings you ruthlessly gorged upon in one sitting! Have a
heart!"

"Well, the fact that I lost my highly successful food bet because of
those tempting, scrumptious morsels is payment enough, I believe--OW!"
Gan flinched and rubbed his head gingerly after Yahiko hit him with a
short-range Ryu Tsui Sen care of the cloth-wrapped sakabatou.

"Pay the man," Yahiko demanded Gan with dead seriousness. "He helped you
take care of Sanosuke up until its big fight in his own wacky way.
Though we can all agree that the whole 'winning the championship' thing
was more of a fluke or an Act of God than anything else, Minoe deserves
better. Simply put, don't be a jerk. Pay up."

"Please, Gan-chi? The reason I chased after you all this time is because
I couldn't even come back to my group's camp, even up till now. I'm sure
I'll get my butt kicked once they see me come back empty handed! I beg
you! Can you at least pay your tab now that you have the money? I'm in
enough trouble as it is," Minoe implored yet again, which made everyone
present feel repulsed at how much of an insufferable asshole Gan was,
Gan included.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize that I've put you into so much trouble,"
Gan bawled as he used his bandanna as a handkerchief of sorts to wipe
his ironic tears and to blow his nose on. "Hell, I didn't even realize
that you were in some sort of group. To think, you could have called
upon them and had me lynched for real! Instead, you gave me the chance
to pay you back! Let me make it up to you now; how much do I owe you,
buddy?" 

"Seventy-two sen, please," Minoe informed as he thrust his waiting palms
over Gan's face.

"FUCK YOU! I'll only have twenty-eight sen left from my big win, you
one-eyed, wig-wearing imp! Like I'm going to use my stash up to--OOF!"
Gan was hit again, this time by means of Chizuru slamming the tip of a 
broomstick right into the hooligan's gut. 

"One more wrong answer, and this goes straight to your backside. And
just so you don't get any ideas, I will _make sure_ you won't enjoy the
experience. Don't try me, Gan."

"Urk. Fine, fine. Just stop hitting me, the both of you. Or any of you,
for that matter. Here you go, Patches," the Beaten-Up Gan relented as he
at last paid Minoe with his one measly yen. "I'm done here. If you'll
excuse me, I'm now off to the next district to flaunt my prizewinning
cock to the gambling public!"

"Don't go showing off that cock just yet! What about me, man?" a gruff
voice queried.

"You've got to be kidding me. Another debtor? Just who--?" Gan started,
but he was quickly startled into submission by what--or who--greeted
him.

All eyes turned towards the figure that had emerged from the entrance of
the kitchen. The wooden floorboards groaned in distress at every step of
the fifty-something newcomer as he approached the small crowd. Although
his friendly, Buddha-like face bounced in cadence with his portly frame,
the butcher knife he gripped tightly on one hand showed that he meant
serious business. Combined, Gan and the stranger cast huge shadows over
Yahiko and the others as though the pair were both grownups in the
presence of mere children. Sumo wresters took up less space than them.

Unused to looking at another person eye-to-eye, the hooligan appeared
out of sorts as he took a glance at the latest old man to grace his
presence for the last twenty-four hours. Pointing dramatically and
shouting, "YOU!" at him, Gan then tilted his head to the side and asked,
"Who the hell are you?"

Both Yahiko and the newest old guy to introduce himself to the three
stooges walloped Gan on the noggin simultaneously, but for different
reasons altogether. "Don't pretend you know the guy just to take back
what you've said a second later!" the Tokyo Samurai Descendant berated
in annoyance.

For his part, Gan merely looked at the man with a blank expression on
his face. "But I've never met this person before in my life."

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DON'T REMEMBER ME! The nerve of you! I'm the fish
vendor whom you stole a fish from, you goddamned punk!" the corpulent,
middle-aged merchant rambled, frothing in the mouth in completely
justified anger.

Gan's mouth slackened in comprehension. "That was _you_?"

"Yes, that was me! What the hell happened to my merchandise, you fat,
stinking fish thief?"

Gan sweated the way pigs didn't, despite the popular saying. "W-ell...
Hehehe. _Funny_ story..."


***


Just yesterday, inside the Shinshu Wet Market...

Gan sneered as he looked over his shoulder, but raised an eyebrow and
slowed his pace down after seeing Yahiko take his sweet time in chasing
him. He would've picked up his pace again, leave his pursuer, and go
straight to the nearest cockpit with his newly discovered moneymaking
chicken in tow had he not noticed the look of utter smugness in the
boy's face; man, did that look piss him off.

However, as his bare feet thudded on the ground in a manner that'd make
a bull wary, he felt his stomach churn. All that running he'd done so
far after enjoying a feast fit for a king was taking its toll on his
body. He couldn't keep on running much longer without risking having an
"accident" of sorts.

Knowing that Yahiko probably knew something he didn't--which was why the
brat appeared confident about catching up to him despite giving him a
head start--Gan made a beeline towards the stall of a nearby fish
vendor.

Ignoring the merchant's friendly greeting, he grabbed hold of the
biggest fish he could find and sprinted straight to the woods where his
tied-up chicken was hidden before vomiting the contents of his hefty
lunch behind a bush. He soon realized that, aside from meat buns and
soba, he had dried eel for breakfast.

From there, Gan waited for the insufferable, kabuto-wearing boy to
arrive, gripping his stolen fish tightly. If Yahiko didn't get there in
fifteen minutes or so, he'd feed the fish--well, some of it--to his
chicken later before he'd eat the rest of it for dinner. If Yahiko
_did_ get there in time...

There he was. Gan licked his lips in anticipation. So the know-it-all
Tokyoite thought that he had him figured out, huh? That he was just
another hoodlum out of a hundred or so hoodlums he was used to bullying?
Well, screw that.

To some people, what Gan did next made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
To Gan, it made perfect sense to slap Yahiko with a humongous fish,
shove the very same foodstuff into his mouth, and ram him into the
brittle wall next to them. If anything, the look of bewilderment on the
arrogant little snot's face was well worth the effort. It was this
unique kind of viewpoint that made Gan call himself "Great".


***


Back to the relative present...

"Oh yeah. Before all this Kami-sama nonsense, I used to call myself the
Great Gan. Huh," the Gan formally known as Great reminisced fondly.

"Don't talk about it like it happened seven years ago! You were calling
yourself that just yesterday, you numbskull!" Yahiko protested
earnestly. "You're also focusing on the wrong thing! You hit me on the
face with a fish you _stole_, and now karma is letting even more bad
things happen to you! It serves you right!"

"I guess you're through with your flashback, you bad cliche of a hired
goon," the over-muscled yet still unnamed fish vendor ironically scoffed
(Hint: Which of the two looked more like the bad cliche of a hired
goon--Gan or the fish vendor?). "Give me back my fish or pay for that
stolen merchandise! That was an eight kin fish, and I charge thirty sen
per kin! Do the math!"

"Er, I'm good for it..." Gan assured as he backed away from the one man
in the room that made him look downright scrawny.


***


Last night, unbeknownst to the cockfighting cohorts, the Sakaguchis and
friend, or the nameless fish merchant, the by-then rotting fish they
were having an argument over was surrounded, strangely enough, by bats.

Of course, the bats weren't eating the fish, but were instead gorging on
the large amount of flies surrounding it. There were so many insects
swarming it that it looked more like a wriggling, fish-shaped mass of
black and gray.

The Minoe-dubbed "Kitsune-chi" screed in delight at the disgusting feast
before summoning his brethren to join him into one last midnight flight
into the overcast skies, homing in on a familiar, eye-patched prey of
theirs.


***


Minoe shuddered for a moment, slightly ruffling Sanosuke's feathers as a
sudden memory of Kitsune-chi and company's predatory bat eyes, bat
claws, and batwings bubbled to the surface of his mind. On that note,
the fish vendor's upturned nose and overbite kind of resembled his
flying rat friends' features despite his jolly appearance.

However, the merchant was by-and-far more threatening because there
wasn't a hint of mercy in his eyes; all they held were murderous fury.
Then again, it would've been easier to be intimidated by the hulk of a
man had he not have a valid reason to feel such fiery wrath.

"Uh, can't I just pay in mon instead of yen? The government sucks, you
see. Down with the Meiji Government, right? Right?" Gan warily reasoned,
a dog's fake smile plastered on his face.

"Please don't tell me you're planning to give me phased-out currency,"
the fish merchant "pleaded" in a "Please don't make me hurt you,"
manner. He afterwards closed in on the trapped hooligan.

"How about me paying you back in sen? Or in rin? You'll still get the
same amount, only there are a lot more coins... and counting...
involved," came another one of Gan's attempts at swindling.

"GIVE ME MY MERCHANDISE BACK, YOU THIEF!"

So, as the fish vendor loomed over Gan like a youkai-oni hybrid from
hell, the thug pathetically bleated, "Come on! Give me a break! I
thought that was just a throwaway gag! Hitting a guy with a fish is
supposed to be funny and consequence-free! Besides, I could barely even
remember you complaining or making your presence known during my
flashback sequence! Granted, that's because I ignored you, but still! I
bet you're so unimportant in the grand scheme of things that I don't
even need to know your name!"

"Oh no, you didn't. Now you've said too much. HEAVENLY RETRIBUTION!" the
fish vendor announced as he wrenched Gan's head in a tight grapple hold.

Gan gasped for breath several times before commenting, "In retrospect,
being suffocated by beefy arms and man-stink is only slightly worse than
Kaori-neechan's unhealthy fixation on my nether regions."

"HEAVENLY RETRIBUTION!" Chizuru and the fish vendor unanimously chorused
before looking at each other in shock. 

Just then, without warning or reason, Yahiko laughed long and hard. He
couldn't quite explain it, but he found the whole state of affairs
outrageously hilarious for some reason. He didn't know if he'd gone
completely bonkers by Gan's antics or not, but the randomness of it all
just made him cackle until there were tears in his eyes and his sides
ached.

Unexpectedly, everybody else followed Yahiko's lead. Everyone started
laughing so hard that they failed to notice Chizuru try to strangle Gan
anyway despite the growing hollers. The keyword here was _tried_, as the
Raikouji Heiress couldn't bring herself to do it properly because of her
own growing mirth.

The thug thrashed around momentarily, pleading for assistance from the
others, but everybody else was sniggering too much to muster a coherent
response. Even the fish vendor began to holler for a spell. Before
long, his grip on Gan's throat eased for a second and the thug was able
to wheeze out, "All right! I'm sorry! I mean... What the hell is so
funny anyway?"

Chizuru tried to choke Gan once more, but her second attempt was far
less successful than her first one--by this time, she herself was
tittering too hard to be able to even get a proper grip around the
ruffian's neck. One look at Gan's confused, bluish face was all it took;
she completely lost it. After a short period, all of them were in
whooping bundles on the floor, rolling around in uncontainable
amusement.

At that point, Kyoko and several customers in the restaurant had to
see what was happening inside the kitchen, with the youngest Sakaguchi
smilingly inquiring, "Why is everybody laughing?"

Minoe demurely giggled, "Because Gan-chi's evil and stupid, and
everybody hates him."

From then on, somberness became a distant memory. It had transformed
into one of those epic attacks of uncontrollable mass hysteria that
lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Whenever it showed signs of
abating, one of them would breathe out, "Gan-chi", "Stupid", or "Evil",
and all of them would start howling again.

After a while, they began to draw a larger gathering from even outside
the restaurant, and sometime later, several officers out for breakfast
arrived to demand what was happening.

However, none of those originally gathered were lucid enough to answer
back, and eventually the patrolmen trudged away in stumped disbelief. In
fact, the only one inside the kitchen who wasn't laughing his or her
lungs off was a scowling, petulant Gan; his attitude, paradoxically,
aided in furthering everyone else's laughing fit.

Nothing lasted forever, though. Yahiko reeled back, grasping his abdomen
and holding back yesterday's lunch inside his throat. Soon enough, the
others were slowly able to gather their wits back before they gasped for
air in a euphoric manner.

"Wow," gasped Yahiko in the end. "Thanks, Gan. I needed a laugh."

"Asshole," Gan spat as he squatted in the corner of the room, his large,
wide back turned at everybody like a petulant child who'd just been
teased and bullied by his playmates.

"In all seriousness, I'm just about to open shop at the marketplace.
Can't I get some temporary payment from this Gan clown? Something I
could pawn at least?" the fish vendor requested. Just then, Sanosuke
flew towards his head and sat on it. But instead of getting angry, he
became intrigued by the strange livestock. "Is this his? Because I'm
willing to accept this bird as payment."

"You will NOT GET MY BABY!" Gan copy-exclaimed like he did yesterday,
when he first hit Yahiko with a big fish he stole from the very same
vendor who was presently demanding payback from him for the very same
fish. Karmic mockery ensued.

"I'll be the one to pay Gan's tab with the fish," both Yahiko and Nonoko
answered in unison, which startled not only Yahiko and Nonoko, but Gan
as well; what was it with these people who interchangeably acted like
jerks and saints at random intervals?

"I can't pay the whole tab, but I'm willing to pay part of it for Gan's
sake," Yahiko proposed, but Nonoko gently pushed the boy aside and
solicited to the vendor, "I _can_ pay the whole tab, but on one
condition: I get to keep the Otome... er, the chicken, I mean. Sorry,
Gan-san."

"Wha...?" Gan's jaw dropped in dismay. Even the seemingly nice Nonoko
Sakaguchi wanted in on his golden chicken's moneymaking ability.

"But dear, why would you do that?" Satoru asked his wife, genuinely
perplexed.

"Because we've gotten all sorts of blessings ever since that chicken had
come into our lives, honey!" Nonoko clarified primly as she gently took
hold of the chicken and let it rest on top of her bosom. "She's our
lucky charm of sorts, so paying a little over two yen for her is a
bargain."

"It's actually two yen and forty sen," the fish vendor clarified, to
which Nonoko responded by wordlessly handing her payment. Well... Okay.
As long as I get paid, then everything's settled," the large man yielded
before unceremoniously leaving for his stall in the Shinshu Market,
whistling a happy tune.

"Is this all right with you, Food Bandit-san?" Nonoko none-to-subtly
beseeched as she mustered up her best pleading pout while stroking the
chicken on her chest like a feathered and beaked baby.

Gan exhaled dolefully after much consideration. "As long as Sanosuke is
happy, then fine. You can keep him." He knew that there was no way in
hell the cockpits would allow a half-rooster, half-hen compete once word
got out of its victory against Suzaku... but damn, he could have at
least sold the chicken to a circus or something. Oh well; at least he
had a clear tab. "So how about I get a bowl of breakfast on the house?"

"Hahaha... No," Chizuru firmly vetoed, and that was that.

Minoe patted Gan's shoulder. "You may be evil and stupid, but you did
the right thing, Gan-chi. I'm proud of you," the girly man remarked with
an impressed tone. In effect, he was so impressed that he didn't mind
being on the receiving end of a Gan-type pounding afterwards.

"I hope you're all happy, damn--Hey, Yoshi-boy! Where do you think
you're going?" Gan asked after catching Yahiko sneak his way out of the
kitchen using the backdoor.

"Somewhere... else. I kind of have an appointment later in the evening.
Thanks for the laughs, though," Yahiko replied to Gan without,
surprisingly enough, any sarcasm or malice in his tone before heading
out into Nojiri's bustling, police-infested streets, his head filled to
the brim with all sorts of plans and expectations. 


***


Earlier, just beyond the violent Shinshu underground cockpits, after the
insane throng of cockfighting maniacs had disappeared...

"Ah, there you are, Seta-kun. Good. It's time for us to go," Tetsuo
Akahori summoned his cheerful bodyguard as he leisurely emerged from the
secret exit of the Shinshu cockpits. After that, in the corner of his
eye, he spotted Yahiko, which prompted him to idly note, "Oh, it's you.
You came back. Well, if you're looking for Higashidani-kun, you just
missed him; he has already left for Suwa. But if you go now, you might
still be able to catch him."

"No, that's quite all right, Mister Akahori." Yahiko waved off the
Oyakata's offhanded comment. "You yourself should really be going back
to your mansion or wherever, though. If Shishio Makoto's own right-hand
man couldn't stop the real Battousai Group in action, then I'd be really
concerned about them if I were you. Your life is still in peril even as
we speak."

As per usual, the inwardly self-satisfied Tokyo Samurai displayed the
subtlety of Commodore Perry charging through the ports of Japan with his
recent discovery of Akahori's true identity.

Despite Yahiko's announcement, the Oyakata didn't even seem in any way
fazed as he inquired, "Is he a friend of yours, Seta-kun?" By friend, he
of course meant "an old opponent who was your equal in battle" or even
"part of the now-defunct Juppon Gatana". Somehow, Akahori had a feeling
that the boy was neither.

Soujiro snickered giddily at Akahori's meaningful inquiry. "He's _that_
young man, Akahori-san. The other prodigy I talked to you about, the one
that I fought in Nojiri's bamboo grove forest... Himura-san's prodigy,
in a manner of speaking."

"Ah, so he is." For once, Akahori gave the boy whom he barely spared a
second glance to earlier an almost intrusive inspection. Yahiko and his
cohorts were an interesting bunch, but he hadn't imagined the child to
be _this_ fascinating.

Yahiko's shirt and hakama suddenly felt several degrees less comfortable
than before under Akahori's sharp scrutiny. Tugging at his collar, he
worriedly asked, "W-What is it?"

After a lengthy assessment of the current situation and circumstances,
Akahori made a, for him, spur of the moment decision and requested, "Can
I interest you in a little proposition, Myojin-kun?"

"What proposition is that, sir?" Yahiko urged the statesman; he had a
gut feeling that he already knew what Akahori was going to say next.

"Since you were able to hold your own against the Ten Ken here...
relatively speaking," Akahori gave a cursory glance at the bandages on
Yahiko's body, finally figuring out that they weren't merely for show,
"I've decided to offer you a job as one of my hired bodyguards for
tonight's... heh... largely unattended gathering." 

The Oyakata smirked at the so-far feeble turnout of his proposed meeting
with his colleagues-in-office. The gathering was supposed to be a
private one, focusing on talks in regards to the reports of a supposed
alliance between the forces of the remaining anti-government factions
still at large during the Meiji Era. But the public threats of the
recently emerged Battousai Group changed all that.

Although the Meiji Government had held up quite tenaciously after what
should have been the killing blow of Toshimichi Okubo's death and the
continuous in-fighting amongst the twenty-person oligarchy (that Akahori
was a part of, incidentally) responsible for national-level decision-
making, a long-festering rebellion-to-be was obviously not in the best
interests of the developing yet divided administration. 

The Meiji Government had its legs, but it also had rust within its ranks
so early in its barely two-decade reign. The government's wishy-washy
wariness to completely abandon the old ways and embrace new ones,
coupled with Japan's inexperience as a world nation after the previous
centuries-old isolationalist regime had ended, made the government look
weak and undecided to most of its constituents.

For example, one of the pressures that the early Meiji Government
suffered from was the division between the bureaucrats who favored some
form of representative government based on overseas models, and the
more traditional parties who favored centralized authoritarian rule. It
was all about the conservatives who wanted things the way they were
versus the liberals who kept on clamoring for change. Since time
immemorial, many regimes all over the world had gone through this type
of conflict, and the Meiji Government was no exception to this rule.

To be quite frank, merely thinking about the continuous rise and fall of
partisan politics between conservatives and liberals gave Akahori a,
pardon the pun, splitting headache.

Sure, the Boshin War was all but a memory at that point, and the Ishin
Shishi officials were able to quite deftly "micromanage" the hell out of
Makoto Shishio's uprising, indirectly assigning the retired Battousai to
do their dirty work for them. However, problems rarely ever solved
themselves, and for every predicament that did get addressed, a new
batch of hydra-headed troubles sprouted in their place.

Nevertheless, the assassination threats of the alleged Battousai Group
had turned Akahori's meeting into a farce and a sideshow, with his
fellow statesmen and underlings proving their cowardice--or perhaps
simply having enough common sense to heed their self-preservation
instinct--by making up all sorts of excuses not to be associated with
the conference as much as possible.

"Don't you have more than enough guards already? My... someone I just
met in Nojiri had her father travel all the way from Yokohama just to
guard you, you know! That, coupled with all the law enforcement you've
already taken from both Nojiri and Suwa, makes a veritable infantry of
police escorts. Don't tell me that even they aren't enough to protect
you!" Yahiko argued, rousing the Oyakata from his lengthy self-
exposition.

Soujiro perked up. "Oh, you mean Kyoko-san's father, Sakaguchi-san? He's
in town? My, my. It's like a reunion amongst the Seiryu Clan, almost,"
the ex-Juppon Gatana remarked, much to Yahiko's vexation. It was
exchanges like this that made the younger boy feel unsure about where
the enigmatic older boy's loyalties truly lay. Perhaps Soujiro did, in a
twisted sort of way, finish off Keisuke more for Kyoko's sake than for
the sake of his own psychotic tendencies.

'Wait, Seiryu? Seiryu _Clan_? What is Psycho-Kid babbling about this
time?'

Akahori waved off Yahiko's protests in the same manner Yahiko did to him
earlier on. "You shouldn't concern yourself with the number of my
guards. Several members of the Council of Elders gave them to me as
payment for the debt of honor they've incurred after taking a rain check
on our appointment. There are still some heads of state coming here, so
the security is still tight despite the turnout."

The Oyakata had actually told a half-truth; security was supposed to be
tight when the meeting was still _underway_, but now that his fellow
nobles had abandoned him because of the Battousai Group's open threats
to his life, the gathering _should_ have been called off altogether.
Nonetheless, Akahori had other plans; reckless, all-or-nothing plans
that his so-called peers heartily supported so long as they weren't
directly involved in it.

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ALL RIGHT! HUMAN LIVES SHOULDN'T BE BARTERED FOR
FAVORS!" Yahiko screamed at Akahori before closing his eyes tight and
mastering his temper. He felt so livid he could hardly see straight. A
crimson haze kept hemorrhaging into the edge of his vision. After a
while, he took a long, hard breath and opened his eyes to glower at the
Oyakata.

The sinews of Yahiko's neck muscles bulged as blood pumped into his
flustered, reddened face. "The huge number of guards you've stationed
around you and your meeting is the very reason why Nojiri was besieged
by common criminals claiming to be the Battousai Group! The sheer number
of policemen should have handled those thugs easily had they not been
busy guarding your little tea party!"


***


Next: The silence before chaos?

Before I forget, Kenshin's adoption of the Kamiya name originated
from "Tanuki to Ryuu" author ChaosBurnFlame. All rights reserved.

The fit of laughter Yahiko and company had is modeled after the
very same bout of hilarity Dhiti and friends shared in a chapter
of Angus MacSpon's epic "Sailor Moon 4200" fanfic. Seeing that
Krista Perry-Fisk's "Hearts of Ice" has ended satisfactorily, I
really do wish that Mister MacSpon follows suit. One hopes that
he can finish his lengthy magnum opus within the next decade or
so. :P

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) 
are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and Sony. Don't sue
me please, I'm very poor.

Maraming salamat po sa pagbabasa!
Abdiel