“They’re coming.”
Sunfire pointed up to the large screen, to where the sensors had tripped. “Shampoo and Mousse have been spotted entering the grounds. The associates I have placed to guard in that area aren’t responding to our calls.” He crossed his arms. “Ranma, Kasumi, Nabiki, you stay here. Any of you going out would be too much of an opportunity for them.”
Ranma opened his mouth. “But -” Kasumi’s gentle hand on his shoulder silenced his protests - especially after it grew claws. “Okay...”
Shiro gave him a stern look. “Ranma, no one here doubts you’re a great fighter. However, you need to know when not to fight.” He looked around. “Kenshin, Yomiko, Fuujin, come with me.”
“I’m going here,” Kenshin said quietly, pointing to the opposite end of the compound.
Shiro blinked. “Why?”
Kenshin smiled. “Khu Lon will be coming along here,” he traced a route through the trees, “and enter here,” he finished, pointing to a side entrance. “Shan Pu and Mu Tse are a diversion.”
Shiro looked up at the area Kenshin described. That area should have been inpossible without being detected. “Are you sure?”
Kenshin nodded. “It is best I go alone - or, if need be, with one non-combatant.” He smiled. “As you say, Yashida-san, you need to know when not to fight.”
Shiro nodded. “Okay. Yomiko, Fuujin, Fujisawa, come with me.” He looked around. “Masahiko, you go with Kenshin.”
Masahiko nodded, and adjusted the fit of his morphsuit. “Okay...”
***
Masahiko looked down the hallway where he and Kenshin stood guard. ‘He’ was actually a bit of a misnomer; today he looked like his uncle Sora, which meant masculine in every way except which counted the most. “Are you sure she’ll come this way?”
Kenshin nodded. “Absolutely, Masahiko-kun.” He remained in a relaxed stance. “Don’t worry; no harm will come to you this day.”
He wondered what Kenshin meant by that, until he saw the door open slightly. Strange; he didn’t see anyone go through.
“Hello, Khu Lon of the Joketsuzoku.”
An ancient woman seemed to solidify out of nothing. “B... Battousai? It is you, isn’t it?”
Kenshin smiled. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Cologne smirked. “Neither have you, flatterer.” Her gaze turned serious. “Why are you here?”
Kenshin held up the sheathed sword. “I am needed again.”
Cologne chuckled, a sound to Masahiko like crunching gravel. “Are you sure you’re on the right side? You know the results of the last war you fought in. How are you sure that Yashida won’t use you the way the Imperialists did?”
Masahiko’s eyes widened. Imperialists? Then...
Kenshin merely nodded quietly. “Those I fought for in Kyoto sought to change the world - and the time then seemed right. These people here don’t seek to change the world. They are swords that protect others - or people who need protecting.” His smile faded. “Now. Are you sure that your course of action will truly help your people?”
A dangerous snarl came over Cologne’s lips. “Our blood grows thin, Battousai. Should we continue on without new blood coming into our tribe, we will be too weak to survive the next century.” She growled. “We need Ranma if we are to survive.”
Kenshin frowned. “Enough that you would put the existence of your tribe in jeopardy?”
Cologne snorted. “How so?”
Kenshin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Tell me, Khu Lon; Can you defuse or deflect a fuel-air bomb in midair without setting it off?” He grasped the handle of his sword. “The Japanese are incensed at your killing of those police officers. The Chinese ambassador is similarly incensed because his country looks bad. If they manage to trace your origins... what would the loss of a renegade village be to them?”
Cologne’s jaw clenched. “They won’t trace it back to the village. I’ve made sure of that.”
Masahiko blinked at Kenshin’s reaction. He looked old, much older than he physically appeared; his shoulders sagged, and an ancient sadness echoed in his eyes. “No, Khu Lon. Take the lessons this nation learned after the second World War. The more atrocities you commit, the more unforgiveable acts you carve on this earth, the more likely that vengeance will come. We should have died as a nation in 1945; it was only an emperor’s sacrifice of dignity that kept us whole as a nation.” His eyes turned away. “They will trace it back; too many people know where you are from. You would not only have to kill or capture Ranma, but all of the people here, as Ranma has told his tale to us. Moreover, you would need to find Ranma’s father, wherever he’s gone, and take care of him as well. Then there’s the matter of Yashida-san’s computer records with its several offsite backup systems - including one guarded by people similarly gifted...” His words trailed off. “The village has already ordered your exile for your acts; I suggest instead that you and your heir find somewhere else to hide out for a few years.” His cold eyes burned into hers. “Were it not for my curse, I would have died for my sins. Don’t let your people pay the price for yours.” He pulled out his sakabatou. “Your decision comes now - life, or death.”
Masahiko watched the play of emotions in Khu Lon’s eyes. In some ways, it was the indecision of a cornered and trapped animal, desperate to find a way out. Finally, her shoulders sagged, and she nodded slowly.
“You will not see me again, Hitokiri Battousai. You will, however, see my heir. Bie Liao.” She disappeared into the mists that she came from, and Kenshin sheathed his sword.
Masahiko let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “What... what does that mean?”
Kenshin blinked; a moment later, his vacuous smile had returned. “She won’t be returning. However, Ranma may have troubles with young Shan Pu in the future. That is, perhaps, a penance for his sins.” He grabbed Masahiko gently by the arm. “Come. It is time we rejoined the others.”
See other episodes by Nightelf
(Posted Tue, 17 Dec 2002 21:05)
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