[FFML] [fic][rk][cont] Rurouni Yahiko Chapter 14: Madness at the Mansion

[Chester Castañeda]

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

Akahori will do everything he can to take into account every last
contingency and eventuality, but will he be able to do so against a
powerful cult leader from his shrouded past?


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Chapter 14: Madness at the Mansion

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"If that's the case, then I must be the former type. It's not that I'm
claiming myself to be great or anything, but I'm no vanguard like you,
Akahori-kun," Inoue remarked as he grabbed hold of the confounded
Kuroda's shoulders to both restrain and reassure him. "I believe that
greatness can be achieved with the combined and concerted efforts of my
peers as well as myself. The power of the multitude isn't necessarily an
affront against people who are individually great."

"An admirable stance, but I find it rather naive," Akahori observed
bluntly. "Your position is unbecomingly infantile for someone who's
experienced the death of the old Japan and the birth of the new one. You
should know better, Inoue-kun; idealism and reality does not mesh."

"Fair enough," Inoue assented, but afterwards dared, "What about you,
Akahori? How naive are you as well, thinking that the path you've chosen
will lead you to success? You've made a lot of enemies because of your
schemes as well as your recklessness. Just how great can you become if
the whole world is against you?"

Akahori unclenched his hands, stood up, and stretched his gangly arms
across his table. "In my not-so-humble opinion, facing against the whole
world is the very definition of greatness." At that point, the Oyakata
declared, "I thank you two for your time and presence. Alas, I believe
that this mockery of a meeting has come to a close. My bodyguard will
escort you both to your carriages."

"Good-bye, Akahori. Take good care of yourself, old friend," Inoue bid
his farewell as he bowed, while Kuroda could only manage a curt nod
while slightly bending over. They exited the room with Soujiro a few
minutes later.

Akahori strode to the balcony of the estate, breathing in the fresh
alpine air. "Just how unpredictable will everything get? Will you be
able to surprise me yet again?" he whispered to the chortling mountain
breeze.


===


Later in the afternoon, after the trio realized that they were too far
away to buy meat buns for the Togakudan (which Yahiko suspected as a
wild goose chase that the spy troop used to get rid of Minoe,
especially after the pirate-garbed non-pirate confessed that he needed
to cross the outer fringes of Nagano to find that type of food), they
returned to the mansion and spent their time discussing the Battousai
Group's impending assassination of Akahori.

Somehow, the discussion shifted from the details behind the announced
hit to just how powerful this Battousai Group was. Yahiko himself was
fairly sure that any warrior from the Ten Swords or Enishi's Six
Comrades would've "kicked the asses of those posers from here to
Saturday, and twice on Sunday". He would've said so himself had Gan not
used the exact same wording to describe how the Shinsengumi would've
humiliated the religious terrorist upstarts instead.

Grumbling at his own defensiveness, the childish part of Yahiko's mind
that screeched, "Kenshin can win against anybody if he's properly
motivated, even Hiko Seijuro XIII!" made him inquire, "By the way, did
Amakusa _really_ kill a thousand men within a month or two at his own
hometown? I've heard an acquaintance of mine tell me tales of certain
swordsmen killing fifty soldiers in two hours, but a whole army in
little over a month or two sounds kind of dubious. And retarded."

Minoe slowly looked up into the late afternoon skies, his uncovered eye
darting left and right in seeming meditation before the swirling cumulus
unveiled the brilliance of the setting sun, which made him wince and
cover his face with a cupped hand. "That's a gross oversimplification,
Yahiko-chi. No one man could kill a thousand soldiers by himself.
Especially during 1878, when the use of guns became more rampant than
the use of the katana."

The boy with spiky hair let out a relieved-sounding chortle. "Ah, of
course. Silly me. In real life, guns are better than swords." Not that
Yahiko would know any better, what with him and the rest of Kenshin's
company constantly battling fighters of varying competence who insist on
dueling the old-fashioned, bakumatsu-approved way.

>From there, Minoe's svelte form froze and bent over, his body shaking
for some reason.

"Patches?" Gan ventured as he reached out his hand towards the trembling
man-child, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled. "What's the
matter?"

"AMAKUSA SHOGO-SAMA HAS BEEN MADE INTO A SCAPEGOAT BY THOSE MEIJI
GOVERNMENT SCUM! That's why they blamed him for the deaths of over a
thousand soldiers and policemen. They might as well say he killed all
two thousand with the way they made him solely responsible for the
fiasco that happened in Shimabara!"

A dog howled in the distance.

Yahiko--the closest one to Minoe and his batty screech that could've
summoned "Kitsune-chi" and friends, the dead, and the devil--winced
back a tear, uttered, "Holy fucking shit," in a strained voice, keeled
over, and writhed on the ground. 'So this was what happened to Enishi
after Kenshin helped tear apart his eardrum with a supersonic sword-
sheathing technique!'

Gan turned his head to the side and slapped one of his ears repeatedly
as though there were water stuck in his other ear, shook his noggin
as if to clear it, and wondered when the whistling sound he kept on
hearing would stop. "So this Amakusa Kumamoto person was framed by our
esteemed Meiji Government, I'm assuming? I can't say I'm surprised."

"That's exactly right! Shogo-sama...!" Minoe squeaked because his
earlier shrillness had taken a toll on his vocal cords.

"...Sama?" the recovering Yahiko repeated, picking his throbbing ear
with his pinky finger to make sure he was hearing Minoe right.

"...Chi. Amakusa-chi," Minoe corrected himself, clearing his
strained throat and mumbling something about being overcome by his
emotions. "_He_, like many other people screwed over by the Choshu and
Satsuma Clans after they took over the nation's seat of power, was
merely protecting the interests of his fellow Christian brethren. He
wasn't some army-killing terrorist who'd slice you up at the drop of a
hat a la the Hitokiri Battousai or the Shidai Nikuya of the Bakumatsu.
If he hadn't survived the sudden government attack on Shimabara back in
1878, he would've died a Christian martyr."

"By the way, are you disappointed about the fact that your hero is
nothing more than a fraud and an urban legend, Patches?" Gan
interjected with the bluntness of the steel bat that he usually carried
because he felt the need to set the record straight.

"Er, I'm not saying that Amakusa-chi isn't a terrorist _right now_ or
anything like that. I'm just... disillusioned with the government. In
fact, I myself would've joined the Freedom and People's Rights Movement
if I weren't part of the Togakudan," came Minoe's wishy-washy take on
the subject.

"Yeah, yeah. So would I. The government sucks, and that's not exactly
groundbreaking news. Politics in general just frizzes my hair because
it's nothing more than a pissing contest on who could delay decisions
the longest," Yahiko addressed with a flat tone, his posture drooped as
he paced around while observing the dried leaves and twigs crunch and
crackle underneath his sandals like kindling inside a furnace.

An uninvited vision of his overworked and frazzled widow of a mother
getting manhandled by a leering Gasuke entered Yahiko's mind before he
altogether pushed the spine-tingling memory into the darkest depths of
his subconscious.

Gulping down the feeling of wetness in his oral and nasal passages,
Yahiko emphasized, "I'm not a big fan of the Meiji Government. In fact,
based on the many experiences that my friends and I had, I'd probably
side with the Battousai Group or the Jiyu Minken Udo if given the
chance. However, I have no sympathy for terrorists or extremists.
Amakusa's actions are doing his people more harm than good."

Gan put his plate-wide hands on Minoe's shoulder and gently patted it.
"Sorry, Patches, but I'm siding with Yoshi-boy on this one. I mean, with
all due respect to this Kumamoto guy, he's brought the government's
wrath upon himself and his followers. Killing off officials working for
an administration that essentially helped lift the ban against his
religion by ousting the anti-Christian shogunate in the first place is a
stupid idea!"

The bandanna-wearing mountain of muscle and fat trudged across the
otherwise deserted lawn in wide arcs, kicking off dust, dirt, rock, and
foliage as he went about his tirade. "I'm guessing the people he killed
must have been former bakufu officials. Nevertheless, terrorism is not
the way to advertise his religion to the new government as something
worth embracing or tolerating. He probably set back Christianity in
Japan to Tokugawa-Era persecution for what he has done."

Yahiko's eyebrows shot up as he blinked and stared at the raving Gan
with a gaping mouth. 'Wow. That actually made sense. I was expecting
something else, specifically bullshit.'

Gan did a low whistle as he continued his diatribe. "You know what,
Patches? For an obvious admirer of Amakusa Shogo, it's weird how you're
practically working for the Meiji Government. You're as much of a
walking contradiction as Yoshi-boy over here. You're both forced to do
stuff you don't want by people you don't like because you value 'saving
face' and 'virtues' too much. You're all being hypocritical, though."

Yahiko gave Gan a dirty look as he regained his vertical base and
trailed behind his two acquaintances. "And you're full of yourself, Gan.
What gave you that idea?"

Gan shrugged as he counted on one hand his reasons. "For one thing, you
support to the point of infatuation that Ishin Shishi hitokiri. That
doesn't necessarily mean you're Pro-Choshu or Pro-Satsuma, but an
argument over your bias could be made. For another thing, you're
applying as a bodyguard for one of the politicians supporting the
government you hate. Granted, he's not from either of the dominant
parties I just mentioned, but he's not exactly rebelling against them
either. One more thing, you're quite Anti-Shinsengumi, which to me
translates that you're very Pro-Royalist. The only thing about you that
doesn't scream 'Ishin Shishi nuthugger' is that you say you aren't.
Isn't that the epitome of being hypocritical, or at least
contradictory?"

Yahiko choked back two chuckles that sounded more like emphysema as his
blood traveled straight to his swelling, reddening head. "Oh, you got me
all figured out, Gan. You're as insightful as always. The visual of me
hugging ball sacks is quite classy as well."

Minoe yanked his head away from his Sanbaka cohorts, his mouth shrunken
into a thin, quivering line as he wrapped his bandaged arms around
himself. "It's not that I'm condoning Amakusa-chi's assassinations or
whatnot, but you both need to realize that we're being governed by an
oligarchy that's more concerned with gathering more power, prestige, and
money for its members than fighting for the rights of its citizens."

The Rambunctious Gan cocked his pointer finger back in order to deliver
his cunning riposte when his posture just as quickly deflated like a
popped balloon. "Er, what's an oligarchy?"

Yahiko didn't _really_ like the taste of decomposing plants, but his
body couldn't help itself as it fell face-first in utter aggravation.
Even the obstinate Minoe appeared rather disheveled by the Inconsistent
Gan's sudden bout of ignorance. "It means we're presently being ruled by
rich, elite politicians, Gan-chi."

"Oh. Right." Gan put his thumbs over his obi, tapped his exposed fingers
on his wide thighs, and whistled a short tune. "So, you were saying? Or
is it my turn to talk now?"

Thanks to Gan's smooth segue, the Sanbaka forgot what they were arguing
about. Subsequently, they let out a collective sigh as they sat down on
the grassy, prickly lawn and stared at the golden-brown sky. The fiery
heavens matched the dying exquisiteness of the autumnal earth. The
warmth of the afternoon sun burned with a passion that left the three
comrades wistful and pensive.

The season of death and decay wasn't supposed to appear this glorious.
Idealism wasn't supposed to look so naive and foolish. Pragmatism wasn't
supposed to look harsh and ugly. A lot of things tended to contradict
what they were supposed to be, the Three Stooges reckoned.

"Did you already talk to somebody else about the Battousai Group,
Yahiko-chi?" Minoe inquired in a hushed tone, his gut feeling already
providing him his answer before the sixteen-year-old samurai successor
confirmed his suspicions.

Not a single one of Yahiko's facial muscles moved except for those
attached to his mouth and cheeks. "Yeah, I did. The Oyakata we met late
last midnight in the Shinshu Cockpits was Akahori Tetsuo himself--the
man that the Battousai Group wants to kill. I even had Mister Sakaguchi
confirm everything that the slimy politician told me, and it all checked
out. But if what you say is true, then they must've had some 'creative'
interpretations of the event."

"Okay." Minoe bit his lip and pouted in a way that neither Yahiko nor
any other man could ever duplicate. "Even though I can see why Oyakata-
dono-chi would lie about the Shimabara incident, I'm surprised that
Sakaguchi-chi believed the same thing. Or rather, maybe he has a good
reason to do so? I can't tell. I've only met him just yesterday."

"I'm surprised you called Officer Daddy, 'Sakaguchi-chi'. You may be an
effeminate weirdo, but at least you're dedicated to your quirks." Gan
shifted and stirred around the pile of leaves underneath him, unmindful
of the dirt, muck, and bacteria that his nineteenth century mind
couldn't possibly fathom but should've for the sake of his own health.

"I've never been involved in any actual war, Minoe, but to tell you the
truth, it'd be a mistake for you to think that a conflict has good guys
and bad guys; that you're right and everyone else against you is wrong,
misguided, or lying. That's oversimplifying things. Both sides will
always think themselves to be the right side, but only history and our
descendants can judge years from now who truly is right.'"

Minoe turned his head towards Yahiko as he let the boy's words sink in,
his face shadowed against the sunset, his silhouette highlighted by a
thin line of light that reached all the way to the wisps of disheveled
fake hair on his wig.

Yahiko scratched his cheek, smacked his dry mouth to moisturize it, and
coughed. "Or something like that; all I'm saying is that might doesn't
necessarily make right. It only proves that the guy who prevailed wanted
the win a bit more than his opponent did. That's all. But that shouldn't
stop anyone from fighting for what he or she thinks is right either."

"I don't quite understand what you're trying to say, Yahiko-chi,"
admitted Minoe with a shrug of his not-so-broad shoulders. "Can you
please elaborate?"

Yahiko cleared his throat. "Look. For all intents and purposes, the
government appears like the bad guys to you, but to them, they'll never
think of themselves that way. Even if they're your own personal
villains, they'll always think of themselves as the heroes. Also, let's
face it, maybe _we're_ somebody else's villains. So you shouldn't paint
things as black and white, because life doesn't work that way."

"Wow. Did you come up with that all by yourself, Yoshi-boy?" the
Garrulous Gan mocked with shiny octopus lips and beady eyes. Minoe's and
Yahiko's respective neck hairs shot straight up as they both turned blue
at the insulting sight before them.

"N-No, a good friend of mine told me that a long time ago."

"That figures. You couldn't have thought up that philosophical mumbo-
jumbo by yourself, what with your simpleminded, gung-ho 'I want to be
stronger and beat up all the bad guys!' shtick."

In three blinks--or perhaps winks--of Minoe's exposed eye, Yahiko
sprayed Gan's face with crushed and crumpled foliage, Gan put Yahiko in
a headlock before rubbing the boy's skull raw with vibrating knuckles,
and Yahiko _at long last_ gave Gan a taste of his 1878-vintage "Wrath at
the End of the Era" crotch kick.

"My so-called shtick is certainly better than your unoriginal 'I'm a
gluttonous drunkard who stalks women and gambles a lot!' one, so you
should talk," Yahiko rebutted in triumph as he shoved a thumbs-down sign
at the moaning, groaning, and butt-wiggling Gan.

"So what's my shtick, guys?" Minoe queried, sitting up and pointing to
himself with expectant glee.

"Er, the 'Better left unsaid' shtick?" was what Gan wanted to quip, but
he ultimately decided against it because his quota of "one Minoe pout
per day" had already been filled. Besides, he reckoned that his
presently falsetto voice would just ruin the intended effect of his
wisecrack.

"Okay, have we learned anything from this discussion?" came Yahiko's
rhetorical question.

However, since it was doubtful that any of the three had studied that
particular figure of speech, Minoe submitted in due course, "Yeah!
Yahiko-chi is a fanatic of Hitokiri Battousai, Gan-chi is a fanatic of
the Shinsengumi, and I'm a fanatic of Amakusa Shogo! We're all fanboys!"

Yahiko's facial expression and body language demonstrated exhaustion
beyond peer and an unwillingness to mime any sort of coherent response
to Minoe's typical nonsense. "Then we really haven't learned anything
at all."

"How about we call our merry men, 'The Fanboys', then? Or is that name
already taken or something?" Gan piped up, his one-track mind stuck in a
garden path long abandoned by his two cohorts.

"A rock and a hard place, Gan," Yahiko intimated, referring to how Gan
had managed to come up with a group name that was worse than "The Three
Stooges".

"'A Rock and a Hard Place', eh? So where does Minoe fit in that group
name?"

"...I give up."

"I told you that 'Sanbaka' is the perfect name for us!" Minoe
interposed.

"The tragic part of that sentence is its accuracy," the browbeaten
Yahiko noted as he put on his frayed kabuto that served as his white
flag of defeat.


===


The forest of yellow green, brown, and white engulfed Rin, blurs of
Nagano's mountain peaks just ahead of her at an unfathomable distance.
How far were they? Where was she? What exactly prompted her to jump
out of a moving vehicle? Carelessness or lack of concern?

She couldn't have stood out more if she set herself on fire. Within the
confined space of a wagon, her mere words and gestures made a
difference. Here, painting-like visions of autumnal grace surrounded her
yet held an empty flatness she couldn't properly perceive, consuming her
in vibrant, untouchable hues devoid of any discernable profiles.

Nothing she reached for fell within her grasp. The objects that managed
to touch her did so inadvertently, appearing in the middle of an
ungraspable nothingness that lacked the feeling of form and shape.

Regardless of her uncertainty, she traipsed further into the woods,
showering her feet with splashes of crisp foliage sprinkling behind her
in fountains of apricot and tan, her shawl floating in watery air, her
creamy skin and purple kimono enabling her to blend in with the white
trunks and branches of the prefecture's native birch trees and blooming
alpine plants.

If she only stood still, then she'd be camouflaged by the unending
nature surrounding her. However, doing so would also mean that she'd
have no choice but be left in the shadows... shadows that filled her
with a subconscious dread she'd rather not delve into.

Night terrors of being torn apart from the inside out while hearing a
disjointed cacophony of sweet nothings--a flash fire of love and hatred
prickling into the side of her slim neck--blazed before Rin's silvery
eyes, but her mind blanked out at the last second before she could make
sense of it all.

She wanted no part of such dreams; however, if she actually moved
towards the light, pain and suffering awaited her instead. A
contemptuous voice reverberated inside the milk-haired girl's mind,
singing parodied nursery rhymes and taunts that compelled her to gulp
her heart down and restrain it from exiting her body altogether.

She opened her mouth, gasping for air, shuddering as something built up
inside her throat--she fought against that feeling, _raged_ against it,
grasping at plants that weren't there for support.

Stop. Relax. Wait.

Before she knew it, her body backpedaled into the shade of spindled
birches.

Where was she?

She took out her glasses and put them on to cover the glare of the
unforgiving sun.

She hated the sun. Or rather, she hated what it entailed. After all, she
never showed any particular partiality towards the night, the moon, and
the stars either. The shadows petrified her as well. In truth, if people
could survive without the sun--and if she weren't so afraid of the
dark--then she would be satisfied living in a world of darkness.

She hated the sun in a way she didn't quite understand--after all, she
felt perfectly fine around the warm glow of a streetlamp or candle--
which made her realize early on that she had an unreasoning aversion to
something that was otherwise mundane to everybody else.

She hated how the sun made her feel, because she couldn't leave any of
the different mansions that she, her father, and their army of servants
occupied unless Akahori's business prompted them to move. That ball of
fire in the sky brought tears in her eyes without depressing her in the
least. It also caused her to draw her room's curtains and hide into the
shadows she feared, where she could barely see a thing.

She hated how the sun compelled her to stay in a place where coldness
became comfort up until the prickly heat behind her neck signaled the
beginning of her nightmares. She was the moon, running away from the sun
as it chased after her for an eternity. Of course, that wasn't really
how the phenomenon of dawn and twilight worked, but that was how the sun
seemed to her; a relentless stalker that would never give her a minute
of tranquility during her waking hours, pushing her into a situation she
never wanted to be in from the very start.

If the sunlight elicited her irrational hatred and the darkness
triggered her illogical fear, then where was she supposed to go? This
was her personal cross that she had to bear. However, someone else also
shared her burden, but he wasn't even aware of the fact that he belonged
to neither the darkness nor the light. She'd do her best to educate him
about the shade of gray where light and darkness met one of these days.

She longed for the comforting warmth of a lamp or a candle, where she
could enjoy both the light and the shadows for once. She longed for
light that engulfed her but left her untouched and unscarred. She pined
for shadows that kept her safe and free from any harm. Alas, reality
forbade her to have the comforts that everyone else took for granted.

She told barely any of the people around her about that particular quirk
of hers. She never came clean to them because these superstitious fools
would probably equate her hatred of light and fear of darkness to
wickedness, demon worship, and death harbingering than mere
predisposition--not that she needed to anyway, what with the whispers of
"vampire" behind her back. That was preposterous, of course; who'd ever
heard of a ghoul that was scared of the shadows?

She also hated the fact that her physical limitations and idiosyncrasies
left her completely at the mercy of one of the Battousai Group's
mercenaries, or perhaps even the very leader of the cult himself who was
known to do personal assassinations of government officials when called
for.

On that note, the identity of the cavalier coachman that'd brought her
to Nagano intrigued her somewhat. Thing was, she'd overheard from her
father that every member of the Battousai Group was a Hitokiri Battousai
in his own right, and only a few of their identities have been exposed
to the Meiji Government.

With that in mind, even if she could see normally and walk out into the
sun without any protection of some sort, she probably wouldn't be able
to get really far anyway. Unless their decision of using the Battousai
name was just for show, then she was virtually trapped like a blind
white mouse in some sort of jungle labyrinth.

But she already knew that, and she didn't particularly care. If she did,
then she wouldn't have bothered humoring her kidnapper from the get go.
She wasn't quite sure which one of the Battousais he was, but she had a
few plausible theories.

Soon afterwards, beneath the shade of the trees and the sunny plains
that lay onwards, the nebulous silhouette of green and white before
her took the shape of a gangly man who walked with a steady gait. His
full, rich mane flowed behind him with the regalia of a royal cape.

"I won't hurt you," the alleged Hitokiri Battousai reassured as he moved
into Rin's full view. He still wore his coachman gear, but this time he
brandished a curious crystal ball on his right hand and a sheathed,
black-colored sword on his belt strap. "Come quietly. It'll be over
soon."

"I've heard that line before; too many times, actually," Rin confessed
with a gentle toss of her hair and a squint of her metallic eyes. "Tell
me, Mister Battousai; how far are you willing to go to kill my father?"


===


Outside the entrance of Jusanro Tani's former mansion outside Shinshu,
Minoe mumbled something to Yahiko's ear from out of the blue.

Yahiko jumped about two feet away from the uncomfortably close Minoe.
"Er, I didn't quite catch what you said," the boy gulped as he scratched
the side of his nose.

"Have you ever wished to be someone else, Yahiko-chi?" Minoe asked, his
eyes hidden by his fake bangs. However, the earnestness of his voice
remained loud and clear.

Yahiko put his hands on his waist and did a once-over on Minoe. "Why
would you even ask a question like that?"

"No particular reason," came Minoe's unfazed reply.

It took Yahiko all of two seconds to come up with, "No. Call me
egotistical or whatever, but I've never really wanted to be anything
else other than myself.

"I see." Minoe nodded several times before turning his back on his two
listless comrades and looking at the chilly and slightly cloudy moonlit
sky.

Yahiko rethought his answer. "I've always wanted to be stronger than I
was before; that is, better than how I was when I was ten years old. I
used to be so weak and helpless that my old hag of a master had to
comfort me by saying that I'm the 'Strongest Ten Year Old in Japan'. It
was pretty depressing."

Both Minoe and the eavesdropping Gan guffawed at Yahiko's "joke", but
their mirth promptly died as soon as they saw the spiky-haired boy's
half-lidded poker face. "See what I mean?"

"So did you ever become stronger than your past self? What would your
past self have told your present self now?" Minoe prodded while Gan
inflated his cheeks in withdrawn laughter.

"AHAHAHAHA! Strongest ten year old in Japan! That's like saying you're
the tallest midget or the fastest turtle; the lowered standards make
you the winner by default!" came Gan's outburst.

"Are you done now?" Yahiko inquired with a growl and pulsating veins on
his head.

Gan scratched his buttocks and readjusted his pants. "Not really. I'll
be over the tree laughing my ass off if you need me."

"All right. Where were we? Oh yeah." Yahiko scratched his chin and
smacked his lips noisily. "To tell you the truth, Minoe, I don't think
I'm there yet in terms of strength. I'm not sure I'll ever be, but I'll
try my best to get to his level."

Minoe tilted his head to the side. "'His' level?"

"Kamiya Kenshin's level--or Himura Kenshin. Or Battousai. The vagabond.
Whatever he calls himself now." The image of Kenshin's retreating back
filled Yahiko's mind once more: a vision that he'd burned into his
retinas forever. "The strength of the Kenshin I looked up to is not just
the strength of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. It's the strength to keep on
living bearing heartfelt pain and agony that's worse than death. Now, in
the true meaning of the word, I want to be strong."

Minoe sighed and closed his one exposed eye. "I know what you mean.
Amakusa-chi is a charismatic rebel that I can't help but look up to as
well, even though I could never achieve his level of strength either."

"Since we're playing twenty questions here, what about you? Why are you
part of the Togakudan anyway, Minoe?" Yahiko needled, figuring that
tonight was as good a night as any to know more about the strange and
mysterious eye-patched weirdo that had been following them for nearly
two days now.

Minoe's eye darted to the side as his mouth formed a tight-lipped,
withdrawn expression. "I'm not sure what either of your circumstances
are, but the revolution has been tough on me. Farmers and peasants had
always had it tough even before the Bakumatsu no Douran, but the
situation became downright degrading once the government increased taxes
and gave the poor debts that they couldn't possibly pay. You've all
heard the same story before, I suppose. I've allowed myself to be the
runt of the Togakudan pack because with them, I could at least earn
enough to eat."

Yahiko cleared his throat as he waved his head to and fro for a possible
exit from the awkward state of affairs; alas, he found none. "I-I'm
sorry to hear that. I really am." He also regretted prying into Minoe's
personal business, but had enough prudence to keep that statement to
himself as he cursed Gan's big mouth inwardly.

Regrettably, discretion was a foreign concept to the Tactless Gan as he
returned to the fray and added his two yen's worth in the conversation.
"I hear you, buddy. We poor people need to stick together. These city
folk have no idea how hard life can be, what with their fancy carriages,
deep wells, and dense population."

"Hey, stop talking out of your ass! I've been through some rough times
too, you know! Do I look like a rich kid to you guys? Come on," Yahiko
blurted out while at the same time wishing he could kick himself for
even bothering to engage in this discussion. "My dad died when I was
little, and my mom was forced into debt by the yakuza before she
herself died. I... I'm doing a lot better now than before, but I'm no
spoiled brat who doesn't know what's it like to starve for days or
weeks on end."

"Wow. Awkward," Gan declared as he huddled and squirmed. "Uh, well, I
learned the Drunken Fist quite quickly because of all the severe and
traumatizing beatings my drunkard father gave me as a child."

"...Really?" Yahiko murmured after a crow cawed, a cicada sang a solo
concert, and a tumbleweed tumbled across the road. Both he and Minoe
had gaped-mouth expressions of horror worthy of famine victims.

"No, not really; it's just that your stories totally make my story
about my longtime crush who blew me off in Kyoto sound really lame."
Gan helplessly shrugged before he was just-as-helplessly whacked upside
the head with a blunt, cloth-wrapped sword. A brawl ensued.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT! WE WERE HAVING A SERIOUS CONVERSATION HERE!"

In a little while, Minoe tittered so much that his wig and eye patch
almost fell off, which served as Yahiko and Gan's cue to knock off their
roughhousing of each other. "Maybe I should have joined the Sanbaka
instead of the Togakudan; even though you two probably don't pay half as
well, the membership will be worth it for the laughs."

Tempted as Gan and Yahiko were to "initiate" Minoe into their "team"
after that inadvertent "Three Stooges" crack, they let their so-called
comrade's running gag slide for the time being, happy that the nimbus of
gloom from their past memories had come to pass.

"Going back to what we were talking about, you do know the reason behind
the revolt in Chichibu, right?" Yahiko asked Minoe with a straight face,
his smile still present but his intonation a lot lower and flatter than
before.

"From what I can gather from the newspapers, it's about the tax
increases and land reform. A lot of the farmers--me and my family
included--had their lands confiscated because they couldn't keep up with
the higher taxes and the changing times. I understand the good
intentions of the government, but many people were bankrupted by debts
they couldn't pay back even after several lifetimes of hard work thanks
to low wages."

Minoe barked out what appeared to be a repressed and bitter chuckle.
"I've been orphaned because of this new age. I was taken under the wing
of a courtesan in the Red Light District, where I posed as her son; she
was the only family I'd ever known, and she took good care of me until
her death."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Yahiko couldn't help but repeat, and Gan
couldn't help but chorus. Just then, the young boy bowed his head as
the word "courtesan" echoed inside it; he subsequently tried his best to
forget seeing the appearance of shame and misery his mother had after he
caught her and the yakuza assassin Gasuke together in the Red Light
District. He knew that she did what she did to support them both, and
it tore his heart apart to see her mortification firsthand.

"Ah, I'm sorry too! I said those terrible, embarrassing things out loud,
didn't I?" Minoe bobbed his head like an apologetic chicken eating
birdfeed. "I seem to forget myself and what I say at times! My
apologies!"

"No, no. Don't be sorry. I was the one who brought the subject up."
Yahiko patted the remorseful Minoe on the shoulder and bowed in seeming
cadence with the eccentric young man's own submissive actions.

"Yeah, he's the insensitive dumbass here," the Hypocritical Gan quipped
before he got pelted by rocks by an obscenity-spewing Yahiko and a
mischievous, teasing Minoe.

A sudden announcement from behind the trio interrupted their bonding
and merrymaking time. "Minoe-chan, Akahori's meeting is about to start!
Hehehe," a speckled-nose Togakudan companion of Minoe's proclaimed in a
mocking, child-like manner. Fortunately, the eye-patched man-child
seemed for the most part too clueless or carefree to mind the
patronizing treatment.

"I don't know about you two, but attendance from Togakudan members is
mandatory for this particular meeting. By the way, don't you two need to
meet with Akahori-dono-chi first and confirm your attendance? Anyway,
I'll see you in a bit, Yahiko-chi, Gan-chi," Minoe disclosed before he
got choked on the neck by a one-armed, clothesline hug from a squatting
Gan.

"What're you talking about, Patches? We're going together!" the square-
jawed Gan grinned in such a way that it took up half of the space on his
face. "Isn't that right, Yoshi-boy?"

"I don't understand why you're coming along, but at the very least, the
Oyakata actually invited me to the 'party'." Yahiko extricated a gasping
and relieved Minoe from Gan's chokehold and motioned the both of them
towards the manor. "Shall we?"

Gan sat up, rolled his imaginary sleeves, and asked, "By the way, do you
want me to punch that Raiden clown for you, Minoe? I didn't get the
opportunity earlier because I kind of wanted to make amends with your
spy troop first, but seeing that they're all total assholes, I'm
willing to at least smash his face in." However, Minoe shook his head at
Gan in a "Don't mind sempai" manner.

"Here we go," Minoe mentioned as he followed the milling policemen and
hired bodyguards to the open mansion doors and went inside the estate
with Yahiko and Gan in tow.


===


"Today is an important day, my dear friends," Tetsuo Akahori orated
just as Yahiko and the others entered the crowded ballroom hall of
Tani's repossessed mansion. The three were soon blocked by another trio
of Gan-sized officers. The Oyakata took the untimely interruption to
catch his breath, clear his throat, and nod to let the Sanbaka in.

"You have been summoned here several weeks ago in an attempt to make you
assemble together; unfortunately, this came about during a momentous
event in civil unrest, which compelled those in authority whom I asked
for this favor to give you the choice of either handling the Chichibu
affair or the rising coup d'etat of the rebel formerly known as Amakusa
Shiro. I realize that this was an unmilitary and subversive move that
spat right in the face of the order and discipline that the newly formed
Japanese Imperial Army or the Kiheitai before it embodied.

"However, the good sense of the army cannot cover all bases, and though
our country is in a state of emergency of sorts because of the discord
unleashed by the dissatisfied masses, I still thank each and every one
of you for volunteering for this mission today. If you're wondering why
your superiors deemed this assignment important enough to supplant the
damage control of last month's riot, then I shall give you an answer for
your queries. You all deserve an explanation, at the very least.

"Gentlemen, I believe that it's only natural for me to tell you about my
observations and demonstrate upon what grounds I've used to make my case
concerning the importance of quelling the brewing rebellion of the
previously defeated yet still dangerous Amakusa faction. Yes, we've
metaphorically crushed the Christian rebels of Nagasaki before.
However, I must take note that it came at the price of many soldiers and
members of the National Police.

"They were your husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, families, lovers,
and friends--they were lives lost that could never come back. I'm fully
aware that for many of you, justice and vengeance are your primary
motivating factors. Conversely, even though our esteemed government is
quick to advertise the quelled Modern Shimabara Rebellion to the public
as one of its best military achievements since the Boshin War and the
Satsuma Rebellion, I who masterminded the later parts of the operation
would be the first to admit of how Pyrrhic and hollow a victory it truly
was.

"I am also conscious of the mixed feelings you may have concerning the
timing of this whole event. I know how betrayed you felt when the
government painted the Shimabara uprising as some sort of minor revolt
that the Japanese Imperial Army immediately quelled. The war we've
waged back then is a secret one, and it's in fact being waged up to the
present! You may not trust those in power as much as you used to, or you
may even want to side with the rebels who've just been captured back in
Chichibu. Nationwide moral is low, the treaties we've been forced into
by foreign lands remain unfair and unreasonable, and our economy is at
a seesawing stage at the present.

"No, succeeding in this undertaking won't magically solve all your
problems with the state, but it does present a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity to take hold of your destinies and embrace a secure, safe,
and happy future. In line with your own honor and dignity as protectors
and upholders of the law and the Empire's best interests, this is your
chance to preemptively stop a tragedy from ever developing.

"You don't have to lose any of your loved ones any longer; it's your
duty to do so, but it's also a responsibility that you cannot and should
not let pass. As one of those who first embarked in the common cause of
safeguarding our country from the cannibalistic rust of outdated ideals
and preparing it for a global future, I am here to implore you to help
me finish what we've started.

"If my actions so far have not convinced you of my loyalty to you and to
the unfinished business we've entered six years past back in Shimabara,
my declaration tonight would be equally unconvincing and shallow. Yes,
I'm asking you to kill the leader of the crazed insurgents who caused
you so much grief and misery. I don't claim to be a martyr who'll act as
bait for your revenge. It's also okay for you to not give a damn about
my life. Think of me as cowardly. Think of me as a faithful friend of
the army. It doesn't matter.

"What I offer now is closure. I've witnessed your distresses, and I've
furthered your cause and calls for justice. The time has come for you to
enact that justice unto your own hands for whatever cause you may have,
whether it's for your duty to your country, for the sake of unleashing
vengeance to those who've wronged you, or for the honor of enacting
true, lasting change in a preventive yet inglorious manner.

"I've listed all of the names of the warriors who've heroically
sacrificed themselves back in Shimabara, and asked their distraught next
of kin or comrades if any of them wanted to join me in this quest to
stop Amakusa's reign of terror. Many refused, seeking peace, and that's
okay with me. There are about forty of you who've gathered here just
after another revolt of sorts to bring about justice to the people that
our government would rather forget. I thank you for your bravery and the
strength that you'll lend me tonight."

No hearty rounds of applause or polite clapping reverberated across
the large ballroom sporting staircases on either side of it that lead to
a magnificent balcony of sorts where Akahori delivered his speech.
However, the buzz and murmur of assent from most of the policemen and
bodyguards gathered made it clear that popular opinion swayed towards
the politician's favor.

"I'll get straight to the point. The person--no, the people responsible
for those of you who've suffered six years worth of hell are coming here
tonight, which gives you the opportunity to achieve the closure,
justice, and vengeance that you so long for. By helping me capture or
even kill Amakusa Shogo and his supposed Battousai Group, you'll be able
to give meaning and merit to the events of the Shimabara Rebellion that
the Meiji hanbatsu and history has chosen to forget."

Yahiko crossed his arms and blew a stray strand of his hair off of his
forehead. He'd gotten separated from both the Suffocating Gan and the
eccentric Minoe in order to get a better vantage point for Akahori's
lengthy sermon.

'Humph. Will you look at that? The Oyakata sure has a way with words
when it comes to furthering his agenda, unlike that fat pig Tani and his
fatter sumo wrestler for a nephew who both had the subtlety of an
oncoming freight train. This Akahori guy is also different from Minister
Yamagata, who kept on going 'Himura this' or 'Himura that' whenever he
had a problem to solve, as though he's incapable of actually doing his
job. I have no idea how good of a leader Akahori is, but he can
certainly talk the talk.'

The boy scratched his chin as he narrowed his eyes. 'I'm getting a whole
lot of rumors, feedback, and whatnot from this Amakusa fellow and his
Battousai impersonation shtick. I wonder what drove him to impersonate
Kenshin from the get go, though. In any case, will he live up to the
hype? Or is he nothing but a hype job and the real, legitimate threat
dwells among his fanatical followers instead? That's what I want to
know.'

"Yahiko-kun?" a voice from behind the Son of Tokyo Samurai asked.

Yahiko turned around and recognized two more people he knew of inside
the spacious room. Kosaburo Shinichi of the Tokyo Police District smiled
and waved at him alongside the asshole that Kenshin fought way back when
in 1878, oddly enough. 'Hey, it's Kosaburo and the what's-his-face
corrupt Satsuma policeman guy whom Kenshin wrung and laundered like a
dishcloth. Small world.'

"It's good to see you again, Yahiko-kun!" Kosaburo nodded his head in
greeting and then lightly slapped the shoulder of his young kendo master
for good measure. "I was wondering where you went last month, what with
Kaoru-san saying you were in a training trip of some sort, but here you
are now! We kind of missed you back home."

"Hey, Kosaburo. I didn't know you were part of this farce," Yahiko
griped with the enthusiasm of an undertaker. He then beckoned his older
student with a "come hither" curl of his index finger as he pantomimed
the act of whispering something urgent via his cupped hand over his
mouth and shifty eyes. Kosaburo leaned forward and bought the boy's act
hook, line, and sinker.

"DON'T CALL ME YAHIKO-KUN! CALL ME MASTER YAHIKO!"

Predictable as the events had been, the shout still blindsided Kosaburo
like an out-of-control, six-horse carriage. "Ow. Aw, c-come on, Yahiko-
shihan! I can't call you that _here_! You'll embarrass me in front of
the guys!"

"You're embarrassing us right now, Kosaburo!" A tall, lean man with a
cactus bristle of hair over his chin growled as he pushed his
subordinate aside and faced the defiant Adjutant Master. "Hey. I
remember you. You're the _real_ Battousai's kid sidekick, aren't you?"

Yahiko's face remained neutral as he puffed his chest outward in
challenge of the uncouth person in front of him. "May I help you?"

The man sneered and chuckled as he rubbed his stubbly chin. "You don't
remember who I am, do you?"

Yahiko raised an eyebrow, tilted his head down, and looked at "what's-
his-face" from beneath his brow ridges. "Should I?"

"I am the person who fought the Battousai to a standstill," the officer
hissed.

Yahiko wiped the older cop's spittle from his face. "You're a liar."

"Then you do know me!" The snarling police officer attempted to grab
Yahiko's collar and pull him close, but came up short as the boy
sidestepped his advance in barely a second.

"I know that I can count the people who can fight Kenshin to a
standstill on one hand," Yahiko retorted.

The officer harrumphed. "I'm Ujiki Mitsuru of the Jigen School. I was
the captain of the Satsuma Branch of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, but
I was demoted because of Himura Battousai's connections to Yamagata.
Fortunately, I was able to rise from the ranks, and..."

"Yeah. Okay. Here you are now. That's nice." Yahiko would've left this
exchange at that had he not felt the need to correct Ujiki. "Uh, Kenshin
married Kaoru and is part of the Kamiya family now, so he's been 'Kamiya
Kenshin' instead of 'Himura Kenshin' for five years already." He also
wanted to correct Akahori and Soujiro's referral to Kenshin as 'Himura',
but this was the first time he ever got the opportunity to do so.

He stepped aside Ujiki's path and went straight for Kosaburo. "Who the
heck's manning the Kamiya Dojo? Kaoru's too busy with Kenji to be a
full-time instructor, you know."

"Well, since you, Yutaro-shihan, and even little Outa had left, I
figured that I might as well join this skirmish. I've been here for
three weeks now."

Yahiko blinked. "Three weeks, eh? That's... really interesting."

Unnerved by Yahiko's dismissive attitude, Ujiki taunted, "I've heard
Battousai has become a cripple now, giving up his sword for the sake of
getting a family. Serves him right; a murderer like him deserves nothing
less than--"

"Complete that sentence, and you'll be breathing through your neck,"
Yahiko dared, taking a hold of his wrapped-up sword.

"Oh-ho. You dare assault an officer of the law? Bring it on, kid. And
you, Kosaburo! How dare you intermingle with the friend of a murderer
like Battousai!"

Kosaburo protested, "But Captain Ujiki, he's my kendo instructor! Sure,
he's a lot younger than me, but I'm still the only one keeping you
abreast about what's going on with Mister Kamiya!"

Just then, Akahori put his gloved hands together, rubbed them hard three
times, and then used them to clap loudly and catch everyone's attention.
"In any event, let's now move on to tonight's mission. Everybody, form
five lines and group each other according to the place or faction you
belong to. Afterwards, introduce yourselves to each other by group. From
there, I'll debrief your designated leaders regarding your battle
stations and individual tasks. Myojin Yahiko and friend, you can stand
at the back of the Togakudan line if you still want to join in on our
operation. The policemen from Tokyo will start the ceremonies."

Ujiki harrumphed, turned his back on Yahiko, did a sidelong glace, and
spat, "You were lucky we were interrupted. I have other things to do."

Yahiko rolled his eyes and turned his back at almost the same time as
Kenshin's past victim. "Whatever. I have nothing more to say to you
anyway."

Torn between two superiors, Kosaburo yelped, "Wait up, Captain!" at
Ujiki.

Yahiko left in a huff to join the only other pair of individuals he
could identify aside from Ujiki and the browbeaten Kosaburo. However, he
could only locate Minoe; Gan had disappeared into the crowd as well. 'I
hope that lummox doesn't start a fight with the Togakudan or something.'

"Minoe, come here," Raedo beckoned with a grunt. "Bring your 'friends'
with you. Akahori-sama orders it so."

"What is this, elementary school?" Yahiko muttered the same sentiment a
lot of the officers and spies gathered in the ballroom shared.


===


Next: An expected visitor.

The Four Butchers or the Shidai Nikuya included the man whom
Kenshin was modeled after: Kawakami Gensai, the girly yet deadly
hitokiri; a gratuitous but appropriate mention, methinks.
Moreover, in the manga, Yahiko and Ujiki (the policeman who got
owned by Kenshin with a single sword strike) never met.

Moreover, the long, drawn-out speech Akahori made is based on the
one George Washington delivered on March 15, 1783 to stop the
Continental Army from creating an insurgence. I believe it's quite
the appropriate sermon to use given the context.

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others)
are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and Sony. This
disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted material that
are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very
poor.

Wala na akong masabi,
Abdiel