It’s been a while since I’ve updated…. Sooo sorry :D

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Chapter 8: Shishio’s Plot

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Kaoru led Kenshin to a one room storage area. She opened the door and handed off a bundle. The futon was rather small, most likely meant for a young adult, possibly a student.

He went inside and sat the bundle down, only to turn around to see Kaoru prepare to shut the door. He stopped her, "Miss Kaoru," he called out.

Kaoru stopped and turned back, closing the door behind her. "What do you need?" She asked.

"It's really nothing," He genuinely smiled. "I just couldn't help but to notice you are looking a bit sad."

"I'm just concerned about Battousai, wondering if he's planning another robbery tonight."

"Please, don't go out tonight." Kenshin replied.

"I was planning on it and nothing you say or do can stop me." Kaoru turned to walk out the door.

"Would your father wish you to risk your life," Kenshin sternly said. "Would he wish you to die for such a poor reason as protecting a name? This Battousai is not the real one, the man you search for uses his left hand."

"It's not a poor reason... Even if he is not the Battousai." She slammed the door and locked it from the outside. "What do you know?" She stopped off, clutching her wooden sword.

Kenshin pushed at the door, realizing it was locked; he needed to find another way out. He looked toward the ceiling, where he noticed a sky light. With a leap, hiten-mitsurugi style, he went through the open hatch and landed upon the roof.

Kaoru shut the shoji door; Makoto was in the room across the way. He said nothing, but even she knew that he was not a sleep. He knew she was leaving to chase after the so-called Battousai, but he didn't concern himself to stop her. It was mostly because he knew her, she wouldn't find him.

Kaoru made it to the gate and crept out onto the quiet street leading to the city. It was only a short stroll, but it was frightening at night.

The street lamps flickered like eerie torches aligning cave walls. The buildings were solid masses, no lights except those that lit up inns and taverns.

A drunken man shuffled along the walk way, stumbling from lamp post to post until he came to an Inn. He entered the building and disappeared inside.

Kaoru clutched her wooden sword and turned down the side street leading to the row houses. There were few lights to guide the way; those lights were from the tiny residences.

The hair on the back of her neck rose, as if she were being watched by unseen forces. Another man caught her eyes, forcing her to turn his way. He laid a large weapon down, a zanbattou, allowing it to slide into his apartment. He shut the sliding door.

The rooster headed man walked down the street, heading for the main route. He passed her and stopped. "You know, this side of town is rather dangerous to be alone."

"I'll be fine," Kaoru replied, showing off her wooden stick.

His cheeks were rather pink from drinking sake, Kaoru shrugged; he wouldn't remember her in the morning.

"Hey Mr.," Kaoru replied. "You shouldn't be walking alone either. The Battousai is out."

"Well then," The Rooster-haired man replied. "I can't let a pretty woman such as your self be out alone, can I." Kaoru blushed. It was the first time someone complimented her looks, even if it was a drunkard; he was still a very handsome drunkard. He was tall with pointy feathery hair, deep chocolate eyes that sparkle with a child-like mischievous. His muscles well defined, especially that bare six pack abs he proudly flashed to the world. Even with his looks and honorable nature, the wanderer had her attention.

The wanderer, Kaoru thought. He was short, but that long red hair was wild and set his amethyst eyes ablaze. He was passionate, she could tell by that look in his eyes. But there was a sense of naivety in him, a person whose innocence been tainted as a child. Even with that knowledge, Kenshin was a beautiful soul in her eyes.

"Don't tell me you are out hunting Battousai," The stranger asked.

"What if I am?" Kaoru replied. "It's not your concern."

"Suit your self,” The man replied. "I'm off to buy some sake."

Before Kaoru could realize, she was once again alone in the middle of the street. She raced for home and the comfort of her dojo.

Kenshin gave up his search, deciding on to do some sleuthing at a bar at the far end of the city. There he found a rather drunk man who knew the Battousai personally, or so he said with a slur.

"I (hic) one of his (hic) students," He laughed. "If you can (hic) believe that. He said he's gonna burn the Kamiya dojo tonight."

Kenshin took off like a bolt toward the Kamiya dojo. When he arrived at the main gate, men were wandering around and strangely enough, Makoto was peering out his window watching them. When he saw Kenshin enter his point of view, he quickly moved back. Kenshin noticed, but he didn't have time to care.

There was a scream, forcing Kenshin's attention to the dojo. His heart raised into his throat, he was later than he would have liked. Kenshin came around the corner, several men were walking by an open dojo door and light was pouring out.

"I knew it was you," Kaoru mewed. "Gohei..." Her voice came like a bird chirp; shallow, fluttery and dry.

"Now, I will end the Kamiya style with you." Gohei pulled out his left-hand sword and began to walk toward her. Kaoru waited, holding the wooden sword in both hands, prepared to defend her life.

Just as Gohei was bringing the sword down, close to Kaoru’s throat, a cut that would surely end her life, Kaoru closed her eyes and waited for the finishing blow. It was like she given up, the fear consuming her until it froze her in place. She had been like that since she was small; he was the boogieman that invaded her nightmares.

There was a sharp clash and when her eyes reopened, Makoto was in front of her, defending her life. He struggled with Gohei, pushing the gargantuan man back. Gohei charged again, this time with a thrust. Makoto turned; pulling his blade up until it was at Gohei's abdomen, slicing into his ribcage. The man fell back, where he slid down the side wall, leaving a thick, blackened blood trail down the wood.

Makoto turned back to Kaoru. "Forget what you saw, my love." He softly kissed her on the forehead, but it didn't comfort her. "Go back to your room and get some sleep. The traveler and I can take care of this."

Kaoru lifted her eyes and noticed the wanderer standing in the doorway. She was catatonic, barely able to squeak a word.

"Miss Kaoru," Kenshin politely spoke. "Do what Mr. Shishio says. We can take care of this mess."

A few moments later, a police officer came into the room. "Mr. Shishio, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but we were told that the Battousai was here."

Makoto looked directly at Kenshin, "This man was not the Battousai, just another liar." He stepped out of the way and allowed the officer to see the body. "As you can see, it's a case of self defense; he tried to kill my fiancée."

"Is that what happened?" The officer looked toward Kenshin.

"Yes," Kenshin replied.

"Please, can you take Kaoru to her room?" Shishio asked. He looked toward Kenshin, his stare as cold as ice. The words rolled seamlessly off his lips, the words soured like lemon and vinegar in a single concoction.

Kenshin sensed Makoto's displeasure, even before the incident, he knew Makoto wanted him gone. There was something wrong and he just couldn't put a finger to it. He knew Makoto, his name was familiar. They had met once; it came to him in rapid flashes of light, images and sound. Makoto had been his successor during the revolution. He was the assassin they chose to replace him. Last he heard, Makoto had died, but that was obviously untrue. The man was standing, talking to the police about the incident. He was telling his side of the story like he was the dutiful husband, protecting his wife and property.

There was something behind the façade; he was hiding some dark secret that Kenshin could feel deep in his own tarnished soul. But there was a difference between him and Makoto. He knew as long as he atoned for the deaths he caused, the tarnish could be polished away, but not completely. Makoto would never be forgiven by any god or those people, because the killer still lurked inside his mind, the man still craved blood. Sometimes he wondered if he could ever be forgiven by the dead, the people he hurt and kami (god). It was a question he asked himself every day and probably ask upon his death bed.

Kaoru walked behind Kenshin, about two and a half feet back, putting space between their bodies like he were the plague sent by god to destroy her. Kenshin lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

"How can I guard you if you are behind me?" He asked and then stepped to one side, until she was standing next to him.

"You looked like you were thinking," Kaoru answered. "I thought I would disturb you if I were walking with you."

"Makoto doesn't give you a long enough leash, that he does not." Kenshin replied.

"He's never hurt me," Kaoru answered. "He acts like any good man should."

Kenshin remained silent, but for only a moment. "You never said what type of business he is in?" He phrased it as a question and made it sound like a demand.

"As far as I know, he deals with imports."

"Imports," Kenshin said in thought. "Maybe he's gotten involved with the Yakuza."

"What are you thinking about now?" Kaoru demanded.

"It's nothing to worry over." The red headed wanderer replied. "I think you should go get some rest and we can talk some more in the morning." He hesitantly smiled and ushered her inside.

Gohei opened his eyes and looked down at his wound, it was painful, seeping a lot of blood. He stood up and pushed his way out of the room, making his way passed the police officer, pushing him on top of Makoto. His left hand hurt just as bad, it been sliced at the wrist, rendering his hand useless.

One of his men made it far enough down the road, literally unnoticed by the police, Makoto and Kenshin. Gohei caught up, words breathless upon his lips, he was able to say 'Help me' with a dry throaty moan.

His accomplice looked back at him, eager to help him out. He took off his jacket and pushed it against the wound at his side, and then they disappeared into the night.

By the time Makoto and the officer made it into the alley, Gohei and the man were gone.

"Dammit!" Makoto cursed. He looked toward the officer, "This is your fault.”

"You're not going to tell my superiors are you?" He panicked.

"You better believe I am," Makoto answered.

"Goro is going to kill me," He said.

Makoto laughed, "That's your problem not mine."

A fear cross the smaller man's eyes, the type of look that graces over a man’s’ face just before being executed. The officer backed away, "Since no one was killed, I'll file my report to my superiors by tomorrow afternoon." He gave a bow, bending mid waist, but not taking his eyes off Makoto. "Good night, Mister Shishio."

After the officer left, he looked over his shoulder, returning his sights toward the path Kenshin and Kaoru went. He followed.

As Makoto arrived at the house, Kenshin exit. They looked at each other as they passed. "Battousai," Makoto said a low lull barely audible.

Kenshin heard it, realizing Makoto remembered their shared past.

Kenshin stopped, "Did they clean up your mess?"

"Yes and no," Makoto answered. "The man lives, yet there is a terrible mess in the dojo."

"Where is he?" Kenshin asked.

"He got up and ran off." Makoto answered.

"What happened? Did you lose your instinct to kill?" Kenshin asked. His face cringed like he could taste the blood on the air.

"Not at all," Makoto answered. "Unlike you, I will never trade my ideals. A man slayer is a man slayer until the day he dies."

Those words, that single phrase froze Kenshin to the ground. A man slayer is a man slayer until the day he dies. It was kind of a code among the samurai, those who killed and loved the taste of blood on their tongues; they loved the feel of the sticky stains on their hands and the crimson metal of their swords. Men such as Makoto never change. It was hard to believe that a man like Kaoru's father been involved with a man like Makoto.

Kenshin went back to the storage room, he would not be able to sleep, but he was grateful for the shelter.

During the night, Makoto slipped from his room and headed into the city. He stopped at a seedy bar near the edge of town, where he met up with his Taku and Satojima Houji.

Makoto sipped his sake as did the other two men. The room was dark, keeping them well concealed in the tavern corner. No one noticed they were there. Houji lifted his sake cup, “To our prosperous futures. To Lord Shishio and his ambitions.”

The three men saluted with their cups, agreeing to the motion.

“We do have one small problem,” Makoto started.

“What is that?” Taku asked.

“Gohei Hiruma,” Makoto answered. “He seems to have a grudge against Kaoru.”

“Do you want me to take care of Mr. Hiruma?” Taku asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” Makoto answered. “It seems the real Battousai is in town and staying Kaoru’s dojo.”

“That’s bad,” Houji replied. “Where are we going to hide the shipment?”

“Do you love Kaoru?” Taku asked.

“She is mine, that is all that counts.” Makoto replied.

“What about Yumi?” Taku said. “Does she know about Kaoru?”

Makoto smiled. “Two slaves, but if I die and go to hell, Yumi will be at my side.” He held his sake glass and swirled the slightly tinted liquid around. “Kaoru is like a prize, something I won, and in the end, after she is dead, I have a place to hide my ‘imports’.”

“And when you marry her, you get to fuck a virgin,” Houji replied with a sinful laugh.

“Her faithfulness deserves something,” Makoto replied with a grin. “Maybe I will wait a week after our wedding before I kill her, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t suffer.”

“Why not let her live?” Taku said. He was starting to pale from the thought, he never cared for slaughtering women. “As you said, she is faithful, truly faithful, more so than Yumi. Maybe you should let your Geisha go.”

“It would only save me money,” Makoto said. “But you are right, I can’t keep two women, they tend to learn all your secrets.”

“Taku is right, if you hold up your marriage to Kamiya Kaoru, it would be an even better front.” Houji replied. He cleaned the last of the sake from his glass and poured another cup. “Yumi will be sad, but she’s a whore, she will get over it.”

Makoto smirked, “Yes, she is but a whore, the best in the business.”

Houji leaned forward, his eyes flickering, “You can always train that Kamiya woman how to do you right.”

Makoto snickered and leaned back in his chair with a happy grin; thoughts of long black hair stroking his body, making him feel hard inside. “I could learn to… love her.” He started to laugh, evilly laugh as if he told a joke. “Maybe I should go home and give her a few lessons before I leave tomorrow?”

“What about the Battousai?” Houji said. “He’s become some do-gooder, if he finds out what you are planning, he’s going to try and stop you.”

“Let him try,” Makoto replied. “If he does, I’ll put an end to him with these hands of mine.”

Houji raised his sake glass, “Lord Shishio, the greatest swordsman to ever live.” The men all began to laugh, pour more drinks, and talk about their new money making venture, and their plans for nation wide conquest.