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spook_me prompt is done!
And here it is, in all of its UNEDITED glory:
Satisfaction
Spook Me prompt: demon
Summary: “Something unnatural told her death was coming.” One person was forgotten about in this whole Jinchuu mess, and that person wants revenge. [fluffy KKness, old KT if you squint]
A/N: The Kenshin and Kaoru portrayed here is a tad more affectionate than you see in manga volumes 1-27, but I think Jinchuu kind of shoved their relationship along, since they were holding hands at Tomoe’s grave. I’m also using Kenshin’s dropping of his odd speech patterns in Kaoru’s presence alone as a sign of trust between them, so it’s more directly related to the plot than anything else. And I was going to write this rather like a horror story, but I couldn’t do it, so you’ll have to settle for an attempt at mildly creepy and rather contrived, I might add.
If Jinchuu takes place in August 1878, this takes place in October/November 1878. I have no idea what the weather is like in Tokyo during that part of the year, but go along with it, ‘k?
Satisfaction
Enishi wasn’t helping it.
It floated away from the half-deaf white-haired man, cursing the man’s weakness. It was a shame he was no longer the man he had been just a few weeks ago, it really was.
It folded itself into a rock on the outskirts of Tokyo to recuperate for a few days. How did that rotten bastard know how to weaken him anyway? Fucking idiot.
Bored, it watched the road in front of it. Perhaps it could find a host; even better, maybe it could find one close to Battousai. The betrayal would be so much sweeter.
“Hey, ugly!” A boy yelled as he ran to catch up to a young couple.
“Don’t you call me ugly, Yahiko-"chan!” a young woman snapped back. She was walking with a man, maybe a few years older than her, who wore faded clothing and had crimson-red hair in a low ponytail. He chuckled slightly.
“Now, now, Kaoru-dono,” he said, voice placating. “Let’s wait for Yahiko.”
She glared at him and stomped her foot. “Did you hear what he called me? I’m not as pretty as Megumi-san, but I know I’m not ugly!” A dull pink flush crossed her cheeks.
The red-haired man smiled. “This one thinks you are very beautiful, Kaoru-dono. And if we wait for Yahiko now, you can bean him here instead of at the dojo.”
The girl’s blush intensified, and the man turned to wait for Yahiko, and it knew.
It did not remember what Battousai looked like, did not remember what anyone looked like, but it remembered his ki, and that man—that man was Battousai.
It looked at the couple. The girl was a tad shorter than him, and if that was Battousai, then he was older than he looked. But that girl was just sixteen or seventeen, and she wore an older kimono, and was obviously in love with Battousai. From the warm light in his eyes as he looked back at her, he loved her as well.
That bastard! Stealing its love, and then forgetting her, just like that! For a young, silly, ungraceful, sharp-tempered whore, no less. Its hatred intensified.
It was a pity she wasn’t conducive to his needs, but the girl had a strong mind, a strong ki. Possessing her would drain him, and he wanted to be at full strength. He turned his senses to the boy. Hi ki was strong as well, but not as developed, more rebellious. It could feel that sometimes he thought he was being restrained, that he should be learning a better style, and it knew then that the boy was perfect for his needs. It could prey on those feelings to take possession.
It lurked out of the rock and slid into the boy’s mind, waiting for the exact, delicious moment that it could finally kill Battousai.
ooo
Yahiko was acting oddly.
Both Kaoru and Kenshin noticed this, and while they never talked about it, an exchanged glance over the dinner table was enough. Sometimes he was sharper, more angry; other times far more polite, but generally, always, he was considerably more aloof than he’d ever been.
“Perhaps,” Kaoru said to Kenshin, on a night that Yahiko had strangely gone to bed early, just after dinner, and Kenshin and Kaoru were doing the dishes. “Perhaps something bad happened in the fall, and he’s just depressed?”
Kenshin was as confused as she was, but the thought was not far-out. He knew that he was far less cheerful in the winter, happy-go-lucky rurouni mask or not.
“Maybe we should ask him,” Kaoru said, with unusual tact. “Sit him down and say, ‘Is something wrong, Yahiko? You’ve been acting oddly and we’re worried about you. You don’t have to tell us, but if you ever need someone to talk to we’re always here for you, okay?”
Kenshin shrugged. “It’s as good an idea as any, that it is,” he said finally. “We don’t know what’s wrong, and you are right that if we are kind but not forceful, perhaps he will tell us. Or at least feel better.” He looked at her. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, after breakfast?”
“All right.” Kaoru said, smiling. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were still full of worry. The moved down the hallway to their separate rooms, but Kenshin stopped her outside her door with a soft touch on her hand.
“It will be all right, Kaoru-dono,” he said, his voice soft, dropping his odd way of speaking, as he had begun to do in private. “Yahiko will be fine. You and I will see to it, don’t worry.”
Kaoru smiled—she liked it when he spoke seriously to her, without his stupid “this ones” and “that it ises.” “You promise?” she asked, her voice a tad coy.
He tapped her on the nose, gently. “I do,” he said, and, squeezing her hand, pushed her gently into her room. “Go to sleep, Kaoru-dono. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She murmured a faint goodnight and prepared for bed. If only he could drop that dumb ‘dono…’ she thought, and sighed. “I suppose that’s too much to ask for,” she said aloud. “Well, I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”
ooo
The night passed slowly for Yahiko, who was oddly lost in thought, angry thought. It bothered him.
He felt repressed, strangely enough. His true desire to learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu had passed, and he really was satisfied with Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, especially after he watched Kaoru beat up a gang of thugs on her own. And he knew that she was teaching him at a rapid pace that she really wasn’t comfortable with, and so she had slowed down and focused more on the basics after Jinchuu. This bothered him, yes, but he knew it was for the best.
But something was telling him it wasn’t enough. He was stronger than that. Better than that. He was better than a sword style that forbid using a sword and a half-trained sensei. He was being held back because Kaoru and Kenshin were afraid of his strength.
He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. They had lurked dangerously in the back of his mind for a few days, and he knew it was showing in how aloof he had become.
They bothered him, and yet, to Yahiko, who really did want to be stronger, they rang true, in an odd way. But what really bothered him was how they were pushing him to hate Kenshin and Kaoru.
“But I don’t hate them!” he murmured aloud, rolling onto his stomach and covering his ears with a pillow as though it would block out that inner voice. “I don’t! They’re my family! They saved me, they teach me, they love me, and I love them!”
You should hate them, the voices whispered. They hold you back. You can’t become strong when they are “protecting” you, restraining you.
The coaxed and taunted, teased and whispered, and Yahiko believed them.
ooo
Kaoru slept fitfully that night, her slumber peppered with uncomfortable dreams and half-forgotten nightmares. Halfway through the night, Kenshin was awakened by her murmuring, and decided to check in on her.
It’s just a reason to see her sleep, a little voice deep in his head taunted him. He flushed and slapped it away.
He was about to slide open her shoji when he heard Yahiko muttering. He sounded fiercely vehement, and Kenshin only caught a few words.
“Don’t…hate…don’t…family…they…love…I love them!” the last words were louder, and Kenshin carefully knocked on Yahiko’s door.
“Yahiko?” he asked, voice gentle. “Are you all right?”
There was a pause, and then Yahiko snapped, “I’m fine! Go away!”
“All right,” Kenshin said softly, and backed away, worried.
He should check on Kaoru. But when he turned toward her door, she was no longer murmuring, her face smooth and softened in sleep, her body curled tightly under the covers.
He stayed in her room anyway, leaning against the wall next to her bed, his fingers tangled in the end of her braid.
ooo
Kenshin finally decided he wouldn’t tell Kaoru of the incident with Yahiko that night. It would only unnecessarily worry her, and he could always tell her later if he had to.
He was awakened by Kaoru in the morning, her face confused and a little angry. “Kenshin? What are you doing in my room?”
He blinked his eyes open blearily. “Hmm? Oh, you were having a nightmare last night, Kaoru-dono, so this unworthy one decided to stay with you, that he did.”
Kaoru smiled at the sentiment but frowned at the archaic speech. “Kenshin…” she said softly, and then shook her head. “That’s kind of you,” she said finally, and he smiled a little ruefully, scratching the back of his head as though he’d just realized something.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean to—“ he looked away. “I’m just used to it, I guess.”
Kaoru whapped him on the forehead with her hand. “Well, get un-used to it, Kenshin, because I’m not going to take it in this house for much longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kenshin said, his voice half-meek but more than a little cheeky.
Kaoru stuck her tongue out at him and offered him a hand. “I need you out so I can get dressed,” she said. “Why don’t you get started on breakfast, and then we can talk to Yahiko.”
Kenshin had forgotten entirely about the boy until that moment. “Yes,” he murmured. “That sounds like a good plan.”
He smiled at her, a warm gentle smile that Kaoru had come to think of as hers, and left.
Kaoru frowned as she removed her yukata and began to dress in her gi and hakama for the day. She might not have been the most perceptive person on the earth, and she tended to ignore things and concepts if she didn’t want them to exist, but she knew Kenshin almost as well as she knew herself, and something was troubling him. She sighed and focused on her obi.
Maybe he was just—no, that was way to hopeful. Sure, she loved Kenshin, but she certainly wasn’t about to propose to him, and probably would never have the courage. And Kenshin had that damn guilt complex, if he even cared for her like that at all.
She pulled up her hair and kneeled in front of the small shrine to her father in her room, saying her morning prayers, and then she sat for a moment, reveling in the stillness of the morning.
Wait.
Something was off. She frowned. Breakfast smelled as amazing as always, and she could see, where the shoji to the porch outside her room was propped open, the brilliant red of the fall leaves, and the birds were as cheerful as always, but something in the air felt dead. It was the same feeling she got a year and a half ago, after her father died, this feeling that a significant part of the dojo—not just part of her life, but a part of the dojo itself—was gone.
But it was stranger than that, too, and darker, enough to send a chill down her spine.
And something—something odd, something unnatural, told her, Death is coming.
Her fingers trembled.
Kaoru shook her head and stood. She had to be imagining things.
“Breakfast!” Kenshin called cheerfully, and Kaoru hurried out to the table.
ooo
Yahiko was angrily shoving food into his mouth, muttering, “More,” and then eating again.
Six bowls of rice later—a lot for even Yahiko—Kenshin and Kaoru were staring at him.
“What?” he demanded, glaring at them with real malice. “I’m hungry, dammit!”
“Don’t swear at this table,” Kaoru snapped.
“I’ll swear if I want to!” Yahiko retorted, adding a low, “Bitch,” under his breath.
“What did you call me?” Kaoru said, her voice suddenly deadly calm.
“I called you a bitch,” Yahiko said cruelly. “You got a problem with that?”
Kaoru blinked several times. “What’s wrong, Yahiko?”
Yahiko looked at her. “What do you mean?” he said, startled by her sudden change in tone.
“We’re—we’re worried about you, Yahiko,” she said, her hands fisting into her hakama. Kenshin nodded. “And if—if something’s wrong, if you’ve got a problem, we—we just want you to know that we’re here for you. And if you ever want to talk, you can come to Kenshin or I whenever. We—we love you, Yahiko, and we want you to be happy.”
Yahiko stood up, his eyes defiant and raging with hate, and slammed his hands down on the table. “My problem? My problem? I don’t have a problem! I’m just fine! It’s you who have the problem!” He shot them an icy glare, turned around, and stalked out of the room, pausing only to call over his shoulder. “Are you coming, ugly? I need to train.”
Kaoru’s eyes filled with tears. Kenshin’s filled with worry.
“There’s something wrong,” he said softly, “And I think it’s within himself.” He took a breath and said, “Last night I heard him talking, and he seemed—like he was fighting something within him.”
Kaoru nodded and stood. “I should go train.”
Kenshin nodded, and then grasped her wrist. “Be careful, Kaoru-dono,” he said softly. “Something’s not right.”
“You felt it too?” Kaoru asked, and he nodded.
Kaoru felt a chill go down her spine. If Kenshin felt it…
“I’ll make sure to check on you two every once in a while,” he said.
“Thank you,” she responded, and left.
“Are you ready?” Yahiko asked when she entered the dojo.
“Let me warm up first,” she said calmly, taking a weighted shinai off the wall. She ran through a few quick kata, and then turned to face Yahiko. “All right! Let’s begin.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Yahiko suddenly attacked her ferociously, the look on his face one he usually reserved for enemies.
He seemed—stronger, physically so, than usual. Kaoru blocked the attack with ease, but the force behind his shinai was much heavier than it usually was, throwing her off for a second.
Yahiko growled and lunged again, and Kaoru found herself in a sudden, real battle.
She couldn’t go as easy on this odd Yahiko as she could on normal Yahiko. She found herself utilizing moves she hadn’t needed in years, moves she hadn’t taught him yet—moves, she realized, that only she knew, now that her father was dead. The thought was sobering, and at that moment, Yahiko’s shinai came rushing down to her head. She dodged, and it glanced off her shoulder, hard enough to bruise.
In retaliation, she spun and slammed her own shinai into his side, and then onto his own shoulder, forcing the boy to his knees.
She pushed him over with a gentle shove of her foot. “What are you doing?” she yelled. “Why are you so angry? Yahiko, get your act together!”
“My act?” Yahiko asked, his eyes still full of that odd hatred.
“Yes,” Kaoru emphasized, “Your act. What’s your problem today?”
“I don’t have a problem!” Yahiko snapped. “You have the problems! You hold me back, you are afraid of my potential!”
Kaoru dropped her shinai to her side. “What?” she asked.
“You know that I can be stronger than you, and you’re afraid of that!” he said, his voice full of malice and anger. “So you hold me back, tell me I need to learn about my strength. Well, I know all about my strength, and I’m stronger than you! So stop being a fucking bitch and just pick up a damn katana and teach me real swordsmanship!”
Kaoru narrowed her eyes, and then slammed the hilt of her shinai into his stomach. Yahiko grunted.
“If you really were so strong,” Kaoru said, “You would have blocked that move. Strength is not in potential, but in what you learn. Go bathe, and sleep. You’ll be fine.”
Yahiko shoved himself away from her. “I am fine!” he hissed.
Kaoru felt like crying.
Yahiko threw his shinai to the ground and walked out of the dojo, muttering, “Get out of my way!” as he shoved passed a startled Kenshin.
Kaoru turned, slowly, and found Kenshin staring at her. “What?” she said miserably, biting back a sob.
Kenshin took a step forward and pulled her into his arms. “We have a problem,” he whispered.
Kaoru burst into tears.
ooo
Yahiko slammed into the bathhouse. “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered. “Fucking idiots. Why did I ever take up with them anyway?”
Speaking of that, why was he even so angry? He had never hated Kenshin and Kaoru before, he had loved them—
You mistakenly loved them, a little voice whispered. But they don’t love you. They hold you back. Why should you love someone who holds you back? Why should you love someone who doesn't love you?
It was true. Why should he love someone who didn't love him back?
In that moment, Yahiko’s hatred was sealed.
Finally, the voice said, and then his body turned as he began to walk out of the bathhouse.
“Wha—“ Yahiko stuttered. “What’s—what’s happening to me?”
You are done, the voice said. It’s my turn now.
“What are you talking about?” he growled, trying to regain control of his muscles.
Your time with your body is over. It’s my body now. Not yours.
“Who—who are you?”
I am the one who will kill Battousai.
Yahiko paused, feeling more clear-headed than he had in days. “I won’t kill him for you.”
You won’t have to. Now that you hate him—
Yahiko gasped.
They hold you back…
They don’t love you—
They hate you—
“You—“ Yahiko said dully. “You bastard!”
The voice laughed, and suddenly Yahiko felt a white-hot, screaming flash of pain ripping through him and he doubled over, gasping.
“No,” Yahiko grunted. “I won’t—let—you—“
You are strong, the voice remarked excitedly, gleefully. And now that I’ve latched into your hatred—
The pain split him in two.
Yahiko screamed.
ooo
“Kenshin, what’s happening to us?”
He stroked her hair insistently. “I don’t know, Kaoru-dono. I don’t know.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“So am I,” he responded.
They looked at each other. Kaoru was crying, her lashes thick with tears. Kenshin’s face was white and drawn, his scar standing out starkly against his pale skin.
“Kenshin?” she said finally, leaning her head back on his shoulder.
“Yes?” he asked cautiously.
“Could you….not call me Kaoru-dono anymore?”
The silence was long and drawn-out. Finally, Kenshin said, “What?”
Kaoru blushed a deep red. “I mean, at least when we’re alone. It—it—I don’t like it very much,” she said finally. “It makes me feel old.”
Kenshin looked down at her black head, and then smiled. “This one will try,” he said, “Kaoru.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Kenshin,” she said, and kissed his cheek, and he blushed.
He might have kissed her—he was going to kiss her—he might have actually told her, he might have done a lot of things, but then there was a sudden burst of ki, one powerful enough that they both felt it.
“What was that?” Kaoru cried, and then she turned and picked up Kenshin’s sakabatou, handing it to him.
There was a strangled scream, the scream of a boy just on the edge of puberty, cracking a little, desperate.
“It’s Yahiko,” Kenshin murmured, and Kaoru picked up her bokken and they hurried—walking fast, but not running—to the porch.
Yahiko wasn’t there.
ooo
What was there was a thing. Something out of Sanosuke’s superstitious nightmares, something out of legend. A creature with black, empty, hungry eyes and long teeth, bloody, and with a familiar small figure, and spiky hair.
“Yahiko,” Kaoru breathed. Her eyes widened, and then narrowed.
The Yahiko-demon turned at the sound of her voice, and then it grinned.
“You bastard!” she screamed, and Kenshin, his eyes narrowed, anger wanting to override all sanity, could smell tears and old blood. And Kaoru charged.
“No!” he yelled, but she didn’t hear him, didn’t see him, just readied her bokken, feinting to the right and striking left, and then the Yahiko-demon caught her bokken and it shattered, into a million pieces.
Kaoru gasped, tears streaming down her face, and backed away, but the demon caught her with his teeth, biting hard on her shoulder, shaking her, like a dog might shake a dead bird, and threw her against the dojo wall.
“Kaoru!” he screamed, and ran to her. She was unconscious, blood pooling around her already. He yanked her gi out of her hakama and began tightly binding the wounds, putting enough pressure on them to hopefully stop the blood enough for him to take care of that bastard, the bastard who threatened to hurt Kaoru, beautiful, lovely, kind, sweet Kaoru.
He turned, and for a moment in those black, empty eyes, he saw a tiny glimmer of fear, as though Yahiko knew that Kenshin was coming after him.
Kenshin leveled a death glare at the demon and attacked.“Ryu Tsui Sen!”
It cackled, and dodged. Kenshin felt a streak of white-hot pain slice across his shoulder and hissed.
He landed hard, and slid across the ground, catching himself on the tree in the yard. Panting, he looked up at the creature, who was now sporting razor-sharp claws and was slowly, teasingly, licking blood—Kaoru’s blood!—off its lips. It then lifted a single claw to his face and licked Kenshin’s blood off it.
Kenshin was trembling with rage, unable to speak, barely breathing. He pushed off the tree and stood, resheathing his sakabatou. Mentally checking his wound, he realized it was a single slash mark, not very deep, across the back of his shoulder. Probably not even deep enough to leave a scar, but then, he couldn’t tell.
The demon turned to face him fully. Now it was taller than him, and bore very little resemblance to Yahiko.
“Ah, Battousai,” it rumbled. Its voice was a mere growl, but still had the tone almost of a child’s. Through a haze of rage, Kenshin recognized it as Yahiko’s voice gone wrong. “It’s so nice to meet you again.”
Kenshin raised an eyebrow. “And who are you?” he demanded, his voice nearly cracking.
The demon laughed—no, it giggled. “You don’t remember me?” it asked. Then, glancing down, it giggle again. “Oh, I suppose not.” It lifted a hand, and then extended one sharp claw, watching it grow and stretch, changing shape, until it resembled a katana.
“Here, Battousai,” it said, voice all serious now. “Let’s have some fun.”
And then it charged.
The thing was fast, faster than Soujiro. He should have expected that, he supposed—the creature was supernatural—and yet, he was surprised when the creature attacked from behind him, when moments ago, he had been right there—but its ki was so powerful that Kenshin managed to leap out of the way, the demon’s claw only catching his left arm.
“Your blood is good,” the demon said when it landed, and licked his blood off again. “Not as pure as the girl’s over there—but it has fire. And guilt.” He jerked his head. “Who is she, anyway? Your newest whore? Your most recent conquest? Did you kill her fiancé, too, and earn pity from that?” It attacked again, this time too fast for Kenshin to even dodge much, an his side split open. Blood sprayed across the yard, and Kenshin heard someone call his name.
“Kaoru!” He turned, to see her pushing herself to her feet. “No—stop!”
Her eyes widened, and Kenshin turned to see the demon looming above him.
He attacked. He did not know how fast it would be, he didn’t care, he drew the sakabatou and his body exploded and he didn’t even shout, “Amakakeru no Hirameki!” He just moved.
The blade caught the creature as it ducked out of the way, barely noticing the injury, and leapt over him, heading to the barely-standing Kaoru.
Kenshin turned, and watched the creature slam her into the dojo wall, cutting open her other shoulder. Kaoru screamed.
It turned back to him and the next thing her knew there was the demon’s katana-shaped claw deep inside him, coming out of his back, and he gasped and sunk to his knees as the demon drew out. “There,” it said. “How does it feel to have a katana in your gut?” It laughed. “Now you can watch as I take your woman like you took mine.”
Kenshin, clenching the deep wound, gasping in pain, looked up at it. It was approaching Kaoru, his precious, sweet, beautiful Kaoru, and her couldn’t save her—
A flash of white stopped him, and as the demon reached Kaoru, a darkly familiar voice said, “Kiyosato Akira. You’ve done enough.”
Kenshin passed out.
ooo
“Kenshin!”
Kaoru sat straight up and gasped.
“Lay down, Kao-chan,” Oguni-sensei said, his small strong hands pressing on her shoulders. “You’ve been asleep for quite some time.”
“Where’s Kenshin?” she asked, her voice less desperate.
“He’s right here,” Oguni-sensei said softly. “Kao-chan, what happened?”
She remember Kenshin holding her, and then teeth ripping into her shoulder, and Kenshin fighting, eyes golden, shaking with rage, and then more claws, and blood spraying down her back and Kenshin bleeding from a huge hole in his stomach and Enishi—Enishi?—and Yahiko, Yahiko, Yahiko.
“Yahiko!” she cried, and tried to sit up again, but Oguni forced her down again and said, “Sleep, Kaoru, sleep.”
And, reluctantly, unwillingly, she did.
When she awoke again Oguni-sensei helped her sit up and handed her a cup of tea. Her hands trembled so badly as she tried to drink she nearly spilled it, but the old man helped her steady the cup and carefully pushed it to her lips, holding it there until she’d drunk the entire brew.
“Megumi-chan is on her way,” he said softly when she’d finished. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”
She looked over to the other bed in the room. Kenshin slept there, his breathing deep and even, his hair loosened and hanging around his shoulders, in a sleeping yukata that was small even for him.
“Whose yukata is that?” she asked sleepily. Oguni-sensei smiled ruefully.
“It’s one of mine,” he said. “We couldn’t find any of his in your house, and you only have one, so I found one from before I got old and could still stand up straight.” He chuckled for a moment, and then said seriously. “You should get yourself—and him—some more clothes, Kao-chan. Neither of you are going to do it if someone doesn’t tell you to.”
She frowned, not paying attention. She knew she was forgetting something. And then it came to her, like a bucket of icy water tossed on her on a cold day.
“Yahiko!” she cried, and then turned pleading eyes onto the doctor. “Is he all right?”
Oguni-sensei became pale, and looked away. “All Fujita-san and his assistants could find were you, Kenshin-kun, and a very badly burnt body of around Yahiko-kun’s size, Kao-chan.” He bowed his head.
Kaoru was silent for a moment, and then suddenly she felt tears running down her face. “No,” she said, her voice raw and empty. “He was too young—he said he wasn’t going to die yet—you’re lying!” she snapped. “It’s not a funny joke, Oguni-sensei!”
Oguni-sensei gathered her into his arms, kissing her forehead. “Kao-chan,” he started, voice muffled into her hair. “Kao-chan, he’s dead.”
“He was my—He was like my brother, he was so good and kind and rude but still, he can’t be dead! He’s Yahiko! He’s too tough to die—he was—he was—oh, Yahiko…”
Her voice failed as sobs overcame her, and she cried for a long time.
When the worst had subsided, Oguni-sensei brought her another cup of tea and said, “When you and Kenshin-kun are awake, Fujita-san and would like to talk to you.”
Kenshin’s eyes fluttered open, and he murmured a soft, “Oro?”
ooo
Kaoru nearly threw herself out of the bed trying to get to Kenshin,, stopped only by Oguni-sensei.
Kenshin looked around blearily, his blue-violet eyes finally focusing on Kaoru. “Kaoru?” he asked, voice heavy with sleep and tinged with pain. “Are you dead, too?” He began to push himself up.
“Kenshin-kun!” Oguni-sensei cried, pushing him back down. “You’ll pull your stitches! Those lacerations on your abdomen were quite nasty, and you’ll be in bed for at least two weeks or so.” He emphasized the two weeks with a gentle tap to the redhead's forhead. “And not a minute less, you hear?”
Kenshin smiled faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Oguni-sensei,” he said weakly. And then his eyes widened. “Yahiko!”
Kaoru felt tears well up in her eyes again. “Kenshin,” she whispered, and he turned his face to hers, eyes saying he already knew the answer. “Oh, Kenshin, I’m so sorry, Oguni-sensei just told me, and it’s—I can’t—he was burned—“
Kenshin looked as though he might cry himself.
There was silence.
Oguni-sensei left the two staring at each other, and had never felt so helpless.
ooo
Saitou and Chou arrived two days later, along with a man Kenshin had never hoped to see again.
“Enishi,” he said darkly when the man entered the room. “What are you doing here?”
“Calm down,” Enishi ordered, rubbing his right ear. “Is that how you greet the man who saved your life?”
Kaoru’s eyes widened, and Saitou entered next, followed by an apathetic Chou, and then Megumi, who was informing Saitou that if he so much as touched a match to a cigarette in that sickroom, she would castrate him with a rusty scalpel.
“I assume,” the police officer said, chewing on an unlit cigarette in lieu of a lit one, “That you would like what we know first of all. And that is why Yukishiro is here.”
Megumi, who still hadn’t known what had happened, perked up. Kenshin and Kaoru exchanged glances, and then Kenshin hesitantly nodded.
“The boy, if you hadn’t noticed,” Enishi said dryly, “was possessed by a demon.”
Megumi scoffed. Kaoru looked over at her. “It’s true,” she said quietly. “He was Yahiko—he had his hair, and his voice, at least at first, but then he had claws and teeth and his eyes were empty and black—“ she shuddered. Kenshin’s hands were fisted tightly in his blanket.
Enishi nodded. “Oh, good. You noticed I knew you weren’t that dense, Kamiya.”
Kaoru leveled a glare at him.
Enishi shrugged. “Simply put, the demon was created from a dead soul, whose desire for vengeance was so strong it stretched into the afterlife.”
“And how do you know about this?” Kenshin asked tightly.
Enishi smiled crookedly and said, “Shanghai.”
“Figures,” Chou muttered.
“This demon came to me near the end of my Jinchuu,” Enishi said, his voice becoming strained. Obviously, this was a touchy subject for him, but he was intent on giving the information. “It informed me that when I was finished with Battousai it would like its turn.”
“How did it come to you?” Kaoru asked curiously.
Enishi frowned. “It told me it had traveled with me throughout the years, in the ribbon of my sister’s that I carried with me.”
Kenshin paled at the mention of Enishi’s sister, and Kaoru flushed.
Enishi shrugged. “I have yet to decide if I believe it or not. I ignored it, passed it off as a dream, whatever, but, it crossed me again as I was wandering and informed me that since I had failed in my duty, it would take over my body and finish the deed.
“I refused, and due to what I had learned in Shanghai, it didn’t succeed in possessing me. However, it obviously possessed that kid. I was passing through Tokyo five days ago, and I heard the screams. And I felt the demon. And I did what I had to do. I’m fairly confident it won’t come back.” He frowned. “I also used a little bit of what I learned to stop the demon’s magic from hurting you too badly,” he told Kenshin. “I couldn’t save a lot of it, but it kept you alive and you should be up on your feet sooner than you were after I beat your ass.” He smirked a little, confident in the knowledge that while Kenshin had won the battle, Enishi had had the victory as far as health went. Though, fortunately, Kenshin could still hear.
Silence, except for the quiet sounds of Megumi crying, and the rustling of Kenshin’s sheets as he clenched and unclenched his hands.
“Why?” Kaoru asked finally. “Why did you stop it? Why did you save us?”
Enishi shrugged. “Nee-san asked me to save her anata and his love,” he said, voice a tad bitter. “And to stop her own love from killing them.”
There was a pause.
“You’re saying that—thing was Kiyosato Akira?” Kenshin asked incredulously.
“If it wasn’t, it was as least his desire for revenge,” Enishi said, shrugging. “Look. I really don’t care anymore. You can go live your life and have your children and do your fucking laundry. But when nee-san asks for something, I’m afraid I can’t refuse her.” He tipped his head. “If that’s all you needed me for, cop, pay me and I’ll be off.” Saitou rolled his eyes, and they began to bargain.
Kaoru stared at her hands, tears streaking down her cheeks.
Kenshin’s eyes darted to her, back to the ceiling, and then to her again, and their eyes locked.
Nee-san asked me to save her anata and his love...
Nothing would ever be the same. Yahiko was dead, and Kaoru’s left arm would probably never straighten all the way, and life was sullen, quiet, full of a deep sorrow that never interfered with anything, only darkened the edges.
But, perhaps, she thought, as Kenshin smiled shakily at her, and she returned the weak grin with one of her own, perhaps things would be all right.
ooo
Kiyosato Akira watched the couple from his newest body. It was stronger than the kid’s, and stupid, easy to control once he was strong again and take for his own. Now he just had to heal, and wait. It might take a few years—the man had weakened him immensely, but Battousai would die, sooner or later.
Eventually things would come out his way. And even if they didn’t, at least Battousai would never have peace.
The thought was immensely satisfying.
~FIN
So there you have it. UNEDITED, may I remind you. I'll edit it and then FFN it, though, probably.
Satisfaction
Spook Me prompt: demon
Summary: “Something unnatural told her death was coming.” One person was forgotten about in this whole Jinchuu mess, and that person wants revenge. [fluffy KKness, old KT if you squint]
A/N: The Kenshin and Kaoru portrayed here is a tad more affectionate than you see in manga volumes 1-27, but I think Jinchuu kind of shoved their relationship along, since they were holding hands at Tomoe’s grave. I’m also using Kenshin’s dropping of his odd speech patterns in Kaoru’s presence alone as a sign of trust between them, so it’s more directly related to the plot than anything else. And I was going to write this rather like a horror story, but I couldn’t do it, so you’ll have to settle for an attempt at mildly creepy and rather contrived, I might add.
If Jinchuu takes place in August 1878, this takes place in October/November 1878. I have no idea what the weather is like in Tokyo during that part of the year, but go along with it, ‘k?
Satisfaction
Enishi wasn’t helping it.
It floated away from the half-deaf white-haired man, cursing the man’s weakness. It was a shame he was no longer the man he had been just a few weeks ago, it really was.
It folded itself into a rock on the outskirts of Tokyo to recuperate for a few days. How did that rotten bastard know how to weaken him anyway? Fucking idiot.
Bored, it watched the road in front of it. Perhaps it could find a host; even better, maybe it could find one close to Battousai. The betrayal would be so much sweeter.
“Hey, ugly!” A boy yelled as he ran to catch up to a young couple.
“Don’t you call me ugly, Yahiko-"chan!” a young woman snapped back. She was walking with a man, maybe a few years older than her, who wore faded clothing and had crimson-red hair in a low ponytail. He chuckled slightly.
“Now, now, Kaoru-dono,” he said, voice placating. “Let’s wait for Yahiko.”
She glared at him and stomped her foot. “Did you hear what he called me? I’m not as pretty as Megumi-san, but I know I’m not ugly!” A dull pink flush crossed her cheeks.
The red-haired man smiled. “This one thinks you are very beautiful, Kaoru-dono. And if we wait for Yahiko now, you can bean him here instead of at the dojo.”
The girl’s blush intensified, and the man turned to wait for Yahiko, and it knew.
It did not remember what Battousai looked like, did not remember what anyone looked like, but it remembered his ki, and that man—that man was Battousai.
It looked at the couple. The girl was a tad shorter than him, and if that was Battousai, then he was older than he looked. But that girl was just sixteen or seventeen, and she wore an older kimono, and was obviously in love with Battousai. From the warm light in his eyes as he looked back at her, he loved her as well.
That bastard! Stealing its love, and then forgetting her, just like that! For a young, silly, ungraceful, sharp-tempered whore, no less. Its hatred intensified.
It was a pity she wasn’t conducive to his needs, but the girl had a strong mind, a strong ki. Possessing her would drain him, and he wanted to be at full strength. He turned his senses to the boy. Hi ki was strong as well, but not as developed, more rebellious. It could feel that sometimes he thought he was being restrained, that he should be learning a better style, and it knew then that the boy was perfect for his needs. It could prey on those feelings to take possession.
It lurked out of the rock and slid into the boy’s mind, waiting for the exact, delicious moment that it could finally kill Battousai.
ooo
Yahiko was acting oddly.
Both Kaoru and Kenshin noticed this, and while they never talked about it, an exchanged glance over the dinner table was enough. Sometimes he was sharper, more angry; other times far more polite, but generally, always, he was considerably more aloof than he’d ever been.
“Perhaps,” Kaoru said to Kenshin, on a night that Yahiko had strangely gone to bed early, just after dinner, and Kenshin and Kaoru were doing the dishes. “Perhaps something bad happened in the fall, and he’s just depressed?”
Kenshin was as confused as she was, but the thought was not far-out. He knew that he was far less cheerful in the winter, happy-go-lucky rurouni mask or not.
“Maybe we should ask him,” Kaoru said, with unusual tact. “Sit him down and say, ‘Is something wrong, Yahiko? You’ve been acting oddly and we’re worried about you. You don’t have to tell us, but if you ever need someone to talk to we’re always here for you, okay?”
Kenshin shrugged. “It’s as good an idea as any, that it is,” he said finally. “We don’t know what’s wrong, and you are right that if we are kind but not forceful, perhaps he will tell us. Or at least feel better.” He looked at her. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, after breakfast?”
“All right.” Kaoru said, smiling. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were still full of worry. The moved down the hallway to their separate rooms, but Kenshin stopped her outside her door with a soft touch on her hand.
“It will be all right, Kaoru-dono,” he said, his voice soft, dropping his odd way of speaking, as he had begun to do in private. “Yahiko will be fine. You and I will see to it, don’t worry.”
Kaoru smiled—she liked it when he spoke seriously to her, without his stupid “this ones” and “that it ises.” “You promise?” she asked, her voice a tad coy.
He tapped her on the nose, gently. “I do,” he said, and, squeezing her hand, pushed her gently into her room. “Go to sleep, Kaoru-dono. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She murmured a faint goodnight and prepared for bed. If only he could drop that dumb ‘dono…’ she thought, and sighed. “I suppose that’s too much to ask for,” she said aloud. “Well, I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”
ooo
The night passed slowly for Yahiko, who was oddly lost in thought, angry thought. It bothered him.
He felt repressed, strangely enough. His true desire to learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu had passed, and he really was satisfied with Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, especially after he watched Kaoru beat up a gang of thugs on her own. And he knew that she was teaching him at a rapid pace that she really wasn’t comfortable with, and so she had slowed down and focused more on the basics after Jinchuu. This bothered him, yes, but he knew it was for the best.
But something was telling him it wasn’t enough. He was stronger than that. Better than that. He was better than a sword style that forbid using a sword and a half-trained sensei. He was being held back because Kaoru and Kenshin were afraid of his strength.
He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. They had lurked dangerously in the back of his mind for a few days, and he knew it was showing in how aloof he had become.
They bothered him, and yet, to Yahiko, who really did want to be stronger, they rang true, in an odd way. But what really bothered him was how they were pushing him to hate Kenshin and Kaoru.
“But I don’t hate them!” he murmured aloud, rolling onto his stomach and covering his ears with a pillow as though it would block out that inner voice. “I don’t! They’re my family! They saved me, they teach me, they love me, and I love them!”
You should hate them, the voices whispered. They hold you back. You can’t become strong when they are “protecting” you, restraining you.
The coaxed and taunted, teased and whispered, and Yahiko believed them.
ooo
Kaoru slept fitfully that night, her slumber peppered with uncomfortable dreams and half-forgotten nightmares. Halfway through the night, Kenshin was awakened by her murmuring, and decided to check in on her.
It’s just a reason to see her sleep, a little voice deep in his head taunted him. He flushed and slapped it away.
He was about to slide open her shoji when he heard Yahiko muttering. He sounded fiercely vehement, and Kenshin only caught a few words.
“Don’t…hate…don’t…family…they…love…I love them!” the last words were louder, and Kenshin carefully knocked on Yahiko’s door.
“Yahiko?” he asked, voice gentle. “Are you all right?”
There was a pause, and then Yahiko snapped, “I’m fine! Go away!”
“All right,” Kenshin said softly, and backed away, worried.
He should check on Kaoru. But when he turned toward her door, she was no longer murmuring, her face smooth and softened in sleep, her body curled tightly under the covers.
He stayed in her room anyway, leaning against the wall next to her bed, his fingers tangled in the end of her braid.
ooo
Kenshin finally decided he wouldn’t tell Kaoru of the incident with Yahiko that night. It would only unnecessarily worry her, and he could always tell her later if he had to.
He was awakened by Kaoru in the morning, her face confused and a little angry. “Kenshin? What are you doing in my room?”
He blinked his eyes open blearily. “Hmm? Oh, you were having a nightmare last night, Kaoru-dono, so this unworthy one decided to stay with you, that he did.”
Kaoru smiled at the sentiment but frowned at the archaic speech. “Kenshin…” she said softly, and then shook her head. “That’s kind of you,” she said finally, and he smiled a little ruefully, scratching the back of his head as though he’d just realized something.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean to—“ he looked away. “I’m just used to it, I guess.”
Kaoru whapped him on the forehead with her hand. “Well, get un-used to it, Kenshin, because I’m not going to take it in this house for much longer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kenshin said, his voice half-meek but more than a little cheeky.
Kaoru stuck her tongue out at him and offered him a hand. “I need you out so I can get dressed,” she said. “Why don’t you get started on breakfast, and then we can talk to Yahiko.”
Kenshin had forgotten entirely about the boy until that moment. “Yes,” he murmured. “That sounds like a good plan.”
He smiled at her, a warm gentle smile that Kaoru had come to think of as hers, and left.
Kaoru frowned as she removed her yukata and began to dress in her gi and hakama for the day. She might not have been the most perceptive person on the earth, and she tended to ignore things and concepts if she didn’t want them to exist, but she knew Kenshin almost as well as she knew herself, and something was troubling him. She sighed and focused on her obi.
Maybe he was just—no, that was way to hopeful. Sure, she loved Kenshin, but she certainly wasn’t about to propose to him, and probably would never have the courage. And Kenshin had that damn guilt complex, if he even cared for her like that at all.
She pulled up her hair and kneeled in front of the small shrine to her father in her room, saying her morning prayers, and then she sat for a moment, reveling in the stillness of the morning.
Wait.
Something was off. She frowned. Breakfast smelled as amazing as always, and she could see, where the shoji to the porch outside her room was propped open, the brilliant red of the fall leaves, and the birds were as cheerful as always, but something in the air felt dead. It was the same feeling she got a year and a half ago, after her father died, this feeling that a significant part of the dojo—not just part of her life, but a part of the dojo itself—was gone.
But it was stranger than that, too, and darker, enough to send a chill down her spine.
And something—something odd, something unnatural, told her, Death is coming.
Her fingers trembled.
Kaoru shook her head and stood. She had to be imagining things.
“Breakfast!” Kenshin called cheerfully, and Kaoru hurried out to the table.
ooo
Yahiko was angrily shoving food into his mouth, muttering, “More,” and then eating again.
Six bowls of rice later—a lot for even Yahiko—Kenshin and Kaoru were staring at him.
“What?” he demanded, glaring at them with real malice. “I’m hungry, dammit!”
“Don’t swear at this table,” Kaoru snapped.
“I’ll swear if I want to!” Yahiko retorted, adding a low, “Bitch,” under his breath.
“What did you call me?” Kaoru said, her voice suddenly deadly calm.
“I called you a bitch,” Yahiko said cruelly. “You got a problem with that?”
Kaoru blinked several times. “What’s wrong, Yahiko?”
Yahiko looked at her. “What do you mean?” he said, startled by her sudden change in tone.
“We’re—we’re worried about you, Yahiko,” she said, her hands fisting into her hakama. Kenshin nodded. “And if—if something’s wrong, if you’ve got a problem, we—we just want you to know that we’re here for you. And if you ever want to talk, you can come to Kenshin or I whenever. We—we love you, Yahiko, and we want you to be happy.”
Yahiko stood up, his eyes defiant and raging with hate, and slammed his hands down on the table. “My problem? My problem? I don’t have a problem! I’m just fine! It’s you who have the problem!” He shot them an icy glare, turned around, and stalked out of the room, pausing only to call over his shoulder. “Are you coming, ugly? I need to train.”
Kaoru’s eyes filled with tears. Kenshin’s filled with worry.
“There’s something wrong,” he said softly, “And I think it’s within himself.” He took a breath and said, “Last night I heard him talking, and he seemed—like he was fighting something within him.”
Kaoru nodded and stood. “I should go train.”
Kenshin nodded, and then grasped her wrist. “Be careful, Kaoru-dono,” he said softly. “Something’s not right.”
“You felt it too?” Kaoru asked, and he nodded.
Kaoru felt a chill go down her spine. If Kenshin felt it…
“I’ll make sure to check on you two every once in a while,” he said.
“Thank you,” she responded, and left.
“Are you ready?” Yahiko asked when she entered the dojo.
“Let me warm up first,” she said calmly, taking a weighted shinai off the wall. She ran through a few quick kata, and then turned to face Yahiko. “All right! Let’s begin.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Yahiko suddenly attacked her ferociously, the look on his face one he usually reserved for enemies.
He seemed—stronger, physically so, than usual. Kaoru blocked the attack with ease, but the force behind his shinai was much heavier than it usually was, throwing her off for a second.
Yahiko growled and lunged again, and Kaoru found herself in a sudden, real battle.
She couldn’t go as easy on this odd Yahiko as she could on normal Yahiko. She found herself utilizing moves she hadn’t needed in years, moves she hadn’t taught him yet—moves, she realized, that only she knew, now that her father was dead. The thought was sobering, and at that moment, Yahiko’s shinai came rushing down to her head. She dodged, and it glanced off her shoulder, hard enough to bruise.
In retaliation, she spun and slammed her own shinai into his side, and then onto his own shoulder, forcing the boy to his knees.
She pushed him over with a gentle shove of her foot. “What are you doing?” she yelled. “Why are you so angry? Yahiko, get your act together!”
“My act?” Yahiko asked, his eyes still full of that odd hatred.
“Yes,” Kaoru emphasized, “Your act. What’s your problem today?”
“I don’t have a problem!” Yahiko snapped. “You have the problems! You hold me back, you are afraid of my potential!”
Kaoru dropped her shinai to her side. “What?” she asked.
“You know that I can be stronger than you, and you’re afraid of that!” he said, his voice full of malice and anger. “So you hold me back, tell me I need to learn about my strength. Well, I know all about my strength, and I’m stronger than you! So stop being a fucking bitch and just pick up a damn katana and teach me real swordsmanship!”
Kaoru narrowed her eyes, and then slammed the hilt of her shinai into his stomach. Yahiko grunted.
“If you really were so strong,” Kaoru said, “You would have blocked that move. Strength is not in potential, but in what you learn. Go bathe, and sleep. You’ll be fine.”
Yahiko shoved himself away from her. “I am fine!” he hissed.
Kaoru felt like crying.
Yahiko threw his shinai to the ground and walked out of the dojo, muttering, “Get out of my way!” as he shoved passed a startled Kenshin.
Kaoru turned, slowly, and found Kenshin staring at her. “What?” she said miserably, biting back a sob.
Kenshin took a step forward and pulled her into his arms. “We have a problem,” he whispered.
Kaoru burst into tears.
ooo
Yahiko slammed into the bathhouse. “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered. “Fucking idiots. Why did I ever take up with them anyway?”
Speaking of that, why was he even so angry? He had never hated Kenshin and Kaoru before, he had loved them—
You mistakenly loved them, a little voice whispered. But they don’t love you. They hold you back. Why should you love someone who holds you back? Why should you love someone who doesn't love you?
It was true. Why should he love someone who didn't love him back?
In that moment, Yahiko’s hatred was sealed.
Finally, the voice said, and then his body turned as he began to walk out of the bathhouse.
“Wha—“ Yahiko stuttered. “What’s—what’s happening to me?”
You are done, the voice said. It’s my turn now.
“What are you talking about?” he growled, trying to regain control of his muscles.
Your time with your body is over. It’s my body now. Not yours.
“Who—who are you?”
I am the one who will kill Battousai.
Yahiko paused, feeling more clear-headed than he had in days. “I won’t kill him for you.”
You won’t have to. Now that you hate him—
Yahiko gasped.
They hold you back…
They don’t love you—
They hate you—
“You—“ Yahiko said dully. “You bastard!”
The voice laughed, and suddenly Yahiko felt a white-hot, screaming flash of pain ripping through him and he doubled over, gasping.
“No,” Yahiko grunted. “I won’t—let—you—“
You are strong, the voice remarked excitedly, gleefully. And now that I’ve latched into your hatred—
The pain split him in two.
Yahiko screamed.
ooo
“Kenshin, what’s happening to us?”
He stroked her hair insistently. “I don’t know, Kaoru-dono. I don’t know.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“So am I,” he responded.
They looked at each other. Kaoru was crying, her lashes thick with tears. Kenshin’s face was white and drawn, his scar standing out starkly against his pale skin.
“Kenshin?” she said finally, leaning her head back on his shoulder.
“Yes?” he asked cautiously.
“Could you….not call me Kaoru-dono anymore?”
The silence was long and drawn-out. Finally, Kenshin said, “What?”
Kaoru blushed a deep red. “I mean, at least when we’re alone. It—it—I don’t like it very much,” she said finally. “It makes me feel old.”
Kenshin looked down at her black head, and then smiled. “This one will try,” he said, “Kaoru.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “Thank you, Kenshin,” she said, and kissed his cheek, and he blushed.
He might have kissed her—he was going to kiss her—he might have actually told her, he might have done a lot of things, but then there was a sudden burst of ki, one powerful enough that they both felt it.
“What was that?” Kaoru cried, and then she turned and picked up Kenshin’s sakabatou, handing it to him.
There was a strangled scream, the scream of a boy just on the edge of puberty, cracking a little, desperate.
“It’s Yahiko,” Kenshin murmured, and Kaoru picked up her bokken and they hurried—walking fast, but not running—to the porch.
Yahiko wasn’t there.
ooo
What was there was a thing. Something out of Sanosuke’s superstitious nightmares, something out of legend. A creature with black, empty, hungry eyes and long teeth, bloody, and with a familiar small figure, and spiky hair.
“Yahiko,” Kaoru breathed. Her eyes widened, and then narrowed.
The Yahiko-demon turned at the sound of her voice, and then it grinned.
“You bastard!” she screamed, and Kenshin, his eyes narrowed, anger wanting to override all sanity, could smell tears and old blood. And Kaoru charged.
“No!” he yelled, but she didn’t hear him, didn’t see him, just readied her bokken, feinting to the right and striking left, and then the Yahiko-demon caught her bokken and it shattered, into a million pieces.
Kaoru gasped, tears streaming down her face, and backed away, but the demon caught her with his teeth, biting hard on her shoulder, shaking her, like a dog might shake a dead bird, and threw her against the dojo wall.
“Kaoru!” he screamed, and ran to her. She was unconscious, blood pooling around her already. He yanked her gi out of her hakama and began tightly binding the wounds, putting enough pressure on them to hopefully stop the blood enough for him to take care of that bastard, the bastard who threatened to hurt Kaoru, beautiful, lovely, kind, sweet Kaoru.
He turned, and for a moment in those black, empty eyes, he saw a tiny glimmer of fear, as though Yahiko knew that Kenshin was coming after him.
Kenshin leveled a death glare at the demon and attacked.“Ryu Tsui Sen!”
It cackled, and dodged. Kenshin felt a streak of white-hot pain slice across his shoulder and hissed.
He landed hard, and slid across the ground, catching himself on the tree in the yard. Panting, he looked up at the creature, who was now sporting razor-sharp claws and was slowly, teasingly, licking blood—Kaoru’s blood!—off its lips. It then lifted a single claw to his face and licked Kenshin’s blood off it.
Kenshin was trembling with rage, unable to speak, barely breathing. He pushed off the tree and stood, resheathing his sakabatou. Mentally checking his wound, he realized it was a single slash mark, not very deep, across the back of his shoulder. Probably not even deep enough to leave a scar, but then, he couldn’t tell.
The demon turned to face him fully. Now it was taller than him, and bore very little resemblance to Yahiko.
“Ah, Battousai,” it rumbled. Its voice was a mere growl, but still had the tone almost of a child’s. Through a haze of rage, Kenshin recognized it as Yahiko’s voice gone wrong. “It’s so nice to meet you again.”
Kenshin raised an eyebrow. “And who are you?” he demanded, his voice nearly cracking.
The demon laughed—no, it giggled. “You don’t remember me?” it asked. Then, glancing down, it giggle again. “Oh, I suppose not.” It lifted a hand, and then extended one sharp claw, watching it grow and stretch, changing shape, until it resembled a katana.
“Here, Battousai,” it said, voice all serious now. “Let’s have some fun.”
And then it charged.
The thing was fast, faster than Soujiro. He should have expected that, he supposed—the creature was supernatural—and yet, he was surprised when the creature attacked from behind him, when moments ago, he had been right there—but its ki was so powerful that Kenshin managed to leap out of the way, the demon’s claw only catching his left arm.
“Your blood is good,” the demon said when it landed, and licked his blood off again. “Not as pure as the girl’s over there—but it has fire. And guilt.” He jerked his head. “Who is she, anyway? Your newest whore? Your most recent conquest? Did you kill her fiancé, too, and earn pity from that?” It attacked again, this time too fast for Kenshin to even dodge much, an his side split open. Blood sprayed across the yard, and Kenshin heard someone call his name.
“Kaoru!” He turned, to see her pushing herself to her feet. “No—stop!”
Her eyes widened, and Kenshin turned to see the demon looming above him.
He attacked. He did not know how fast it would be, he didn’t care, he drew the sakabatou and his body exploded and he didn’t even shout, “Amakakeru no Hirameki!” He just moved.
The blade caught the creature as it ducked out of the way, barely noticing the injury, and leapt over him, heading to the barely-standing Kaoru.
Kenshin turned, and watched the creature slam her into the dojo wall, cutting open her other shoulder. Kaoru screamed.
It turned back to him and the next thing her knew there was the demon’s katana-shaped claw deep inside him, coming out of his back, and he gasped and sunk to his knees as the demon drew out. “There,” it said. “How does it feel to have a katana in your gut?” It laughed. “Now you can watch as I take your woman like you took mine.”
Kenshin, clenching the deep wound, gasping in pain, looked up at it. It was approaching Kaoru, his precious, sweet, beautiful Kaoru, and her couldn’t save her—
A flash of white stopped him, and as the demon reached Kaoru, a darkly familiar voice said, “Kiyosato Akira. You’ve done enough.”
Kenshin passed out.
ooo
“Kenshin!”
Kaoru sat straight up and gasped.
“Lay down, Kao-chan,” Oguni-sensei said, his small strong hands pressing on her shoulders. “You’ve been asleep for quite some time.”
“Where’s Kenshin?” she asked, her voice less desperate.
“He’s right here,” Oguni-sensei said softly. “Kao-chan, what happened?”
She remember Kenshin holding her, and then teeth ripping into her shoulder, and Kenshin fighting, eyes golden, shaking with rage, and then more claws, and blood spraying down her back and Kenshin bleeding from a huge hole in his stomach and Enishi—Enishi?—and Yahiko, Yahiko, Yahiko.
“Yahiko!” she cried, and tried to sit up again, but Oguni forced her down again and said, “Sleep, Kaoru, sleep.”
And, reluctantly, unwillingly, she did.
When she awoke again Oguni-sensei helped her sit up and handed her a cup of tea. Her hands trembled so badly as she tried to drink she nearly spilled it, but the old man helped her steady the cup and carefully pushed it to her lips, holding it there until she’d drunk the entire brew.
“Megumi-chan is on her way,” he said softly when she’d finished. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”
She looked over to the other bed in the room. Kenshin slept there, his breathing deep and even, his hair loosened and hanging around his shoulders, in a sleeping yukata that was small even for him.
“Whose yukata is that?” she asked sleepily. Oguni-sensei smiled ruefully.
“It’s one of mine,” he said. “We couldn’t find any of his in your house, and you only have one, so I found one from before I got old and could still stand up straight.” He chuckled for a moment, and then said seriously. “You should get yourself—and him—some more clothes, Kao-chan. Neither of you are going to do it if someone doesn’t tell you to.”
She frowned, not paying attention. She knew she was forgetting something. And then it came to her, like a bucket of icy water tossed on her on a cold day.
“Yahiko!” she cried, and then turned pleading eyes onto the doctor. “Is he all right?”
Oguni-sensei became pale, and looked away. “All Fujita-san and his assistants could find were you, Kenshin-kun, and a very badly burnt body of around Yahiko-kun’s size, Kao-chan.” He bowed his head.
Kaoru was silent for a moment, and then suddenly she felt tears running down her face. “No,” she said, her voice raw and empty. “He was too young—he said he wasn’t going to die yet—you’re lying!” she snapped. “It’s not a funny joke, Oguni-sensei!”
Oguni-sensei gathered her into his arms, kissing her forehead. “Kao-chan,” he started, voice muffled into her hair. “Kao-chan, he’s dead.”
“He was my—He was like my brother, he was so good and kind and rude but still, he can’t be dead! He’s Yahiko! He’s too tough to die—he was—he was—oh, Yahiko…”
Her voice failed as sobs overcame her, and she cried for a long time.
When the worst had subsided, Oguni-sensei brought her another cup of tea and said, “When you and Kenshin-kun are awake, Fujita-san and would like to talk to you.”
Kenshin’s eyes fluttered open, and he murmured a soft, “Oro?”
ooo
Kaoru nearly threw herself out of the bed trying to get to Kenshin,, stopped only by Oguni-sensei.
Kenshin looked around blearily, his blue-violet eyes finally focusing on Kaoru. “Kaoru?” he asked, voice heavy with sleep and tinged with pain. “Are you dead, too?” He began to push himself up.
“Kenshin-kun!” Oguni-sensei cried, pushing him back down. “You’ll pull your stitches! Those lacerations on your abdomen were quite nasty, and you’ll be in bed for at least two weeks or so.” He emphasized the two weeks with a gentle tap to the redhead's forhead. “And not a minute less, you hear?”
Kenshin smiled faintly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Oguni-sensei,” he said weakly. And then his eyes widened. “Yahiko!”
Kaoru felt tears well up in her eyes again. “Kenshin,” she whispered, and he turned his face to hers, eyes saying he already knew the answer. “Oh, Kenshin, I’m so sorry, Oguni-sensei just told me, and it’s—I can’t—he was burned—“
Kenshin looked as though he might cry himself.
There was silence.
Oguni-sensei left the two staring at each other, and had never felt so helpless.
ooo
Saitou and Chou arrived two days later, along with a man Kenshin had never hoped to see again.
“Enishi,” he said darkly when the man entered the room. “What are you doing here?”
“Calm down,” Enishi ordered, rubbing his right ear. “Is that how you greet the man who saved your life?”
Kaoru’s eyes widened, and Saitou entered next, followed by an apathetic Chou, and then Megumi, who was informing Saitou that if he so much as touched a match to a cigarette in that sickroom, she would castrate him with a rusty scalpel.
“I assume,” the police officer said, chewing on an unlit cigarette in lieu of a lit one, “That you would like what we know first of all. And that is why Yukishiro is here.”
Megumi, who still hadn’t known what had happened, perked up. Kenshin and Kaoru exchanged glances, and then Kenshin hesitantly nodded.
“The boy, if you hadn’t noticed,” Enishi said dryly, “was possessed by a demon.”
Megumi scoffed. Kaoru looked over at her. “It’s true,” she said quietly. “He was Yahiko—he had his hair, and his voice, at least at first, but then he had claws and teeth and his eyes were empty and black—“ she shuddered. Kenshin’s hands were fisted tightly in his blanket.
Enishi nodded. “Oh, good. You noticed I knew you weren’t that dense, Kamiya.”
Kaoru leveled a glare at him.
Enishi shrugged. “Simply put, the demon was created from a dead soul, whose desire for vengeance was so strong it stretched into the afterlife.”
“And how do you know about this?” Kenshin asked tightly.
Enishi smiled crookedly and said, “Shanghai.”
“Figures,” Chou muttered.
“This demon came to me near the end of my Jinchuu,” Enishi said, his voice becoming strained. Obviously, this was a touchy subject for him, but he was intent on giving the information. “It informed me that when I was finished with Battousai it would like its turn.”
“How did it come to you?” Kaoru asked curiously.
Enishi frowned. “It told me it had traveled with me throughout the years, in the ribbon of my sister’s that I carried with me.”
Kenshin paled at the mention of Enishi’s sister, and Kaoru flushed.
Enishi shrugged. “I have yet to decide if I believe it or not. I ignored it, passed it off as a dream, whatever, but, it crossed me again as I was wandering and informed me that since I had failed in my duty, it would take over my body and finish the deed.
“I refused, and due to what I had learned in Shanghai, it didn’t succeed in possessing me. However, it obviously possessed that kid. I was passing through Tokyo five days ago, and I heard the screams. And I felt the demon. And I did what I had to do. I’m fairly confident it won’t come back.” He frowned. “I also used a little bit of what I learned to stop the demon’s magic from hurting you too badly,” he told Kenshin. “I couldn’t save a lot of it, but it kept you alive and you should be up on your feet sooner than you were after I beat your ass.” He smirked a little, confident in the knowledge that while Kenshin had won the battle, Enishi had had the victory as far as health went. Though, fortunately, Kenshin could still hear.
Silence, except for the quiet sounds of Megumi crying, and the rustling of Kenshin’s sheets as he clenched and unclenched his hands.
“Why?” Kaoru asked finally. “Why did you stop it? Why did you save us?”
Enishi shrugged. “Nee-san asked me to save her anata and his love,” he said, voice a tad bitter. “And to stop her own love from killing them.”
There was a pause.
“You’re saying that—thing was Kiyosato Akira?” Kenshin asked incredulously.
“If it wasn’t, it was as least his desire for revenge,” Enishi said, shrugging. “Look. I really don’t care anymore. You can go live your life and have your children and do your fucking laundry. But when nee-san asks for something, I’m afraid I can’t refuse her.” He tipped his head. “If that’s all you needed me for, cop, pay me and I’ll be off.” Saitou rolled his eyes, and they began to bargain.
Kaoru stared at her hands, tears streaking down her cheeks.
Kenshin’s eyes darted to her, back to the ceiling, and then to her again, and their eyes locked.
Nee-san asked me to save her anata and his love...
Nothing would ever be the same. Yahiko was dead, and Kaoru’s left arm would probably never straighten all the way, and life was sullen, quiet, full of a deep sorrow that never interfered with anything, only darkened the edges.
But, perhaps, she thought, as Kenshin smiled shakily at her, and she returned the weak grin with one of her own, perhaps things would be all right.
ooo
Kiyosato Akira watched the couple from his newest body. It was stronger than the kid’s, and stupid, easy to control once he was strong again and take for his own. Now he just had to heal, and wait. It might take a few years—the man had weakened him immensely, but Battousai would die, sooner or later.
Eventually things would come out his way. And even if they didn’t, at least Battousai would never have peace.
The thought was immensely satisfying.
~FIN
So there you have it. UNEDITED, may I remind you. I'll edit it and then FFN it, though, probably.