Beast - Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Series: Gintama
Characters: (Jouishishi) Takasugi, Gintoki, Katsura,
Rating: T/M
Length: 4,636 words
Summary: Takasugi slowly starts loosing his control and things go bad.
Warnings: violence
Notes: Yes, I'm alive! This has actually been finished for quite a while but I never got round making the final edits - first my life kinda screwed me over again and then Jojo's Bizzare Adventure hit me like a meteor. No, don't worry, Gintama will forever be one of my favourite fandoms - it's just a bit harder to combine fangirling (and writing) in two fandoms with equal ferocity and a quite demanding MA Degree all into one without neglecting something. /personal whining
But as I said, this story IS finished already, I just need to tweak things and put it online. (And I noticed that my writing style changed again in the last 6 months. That makes it even more interesting. Er. I might actually rewrite the entire thing slightly if I ever bring up enough courage to get an account on A3O...)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! There's actually stuff going on this time, even some action. From the things that happen I think it's actually my favourite chapter in the story. I just enjoy writing Takasugi, especially emotionally unstable Takasugi so much, haha.
The next chapter was hard to write and will be even harder to edit I think...
Chapter 5
The feeling of relief that had spread amongst their comrades after their return and the new supplies didn’t last long. Reality caught up with them way too fast and their helpless situation began weighing down their mood once again. Weeks went by and they fought several other battles with the Amanto, but none as large as the last one. Those skirmishes didn’t seem to have much effect either apart from more deaths on both sides. Again, they tried to make plans, struggled to find a way out of a situation that became more and more desperate by the day.
Katsura had finally recovered and seemed to be almost himself again. He was full of ideas and completely focused on his task as their primary strategist, forever brooding over maps and trying to devise new plans.
It was a familiar situation - once more they were discussing strategies, thinking about whether they should attempt another attack or regroup at a different place, trying to find other Joui groups that were still fighting and join forces with them.
Takasugi sighed. It was the fourth day that they were dealing with this question now and they still hadn’t gotten any closer to a solution than on the days before.
“I will cover your retreat if we fight. Even if they should catch me, you’ll still have enough chances to escape. Then-“
Katsura jerked around and grabbed the collar of his yukata.
“Stop talking like this!”
Takasugi was surprised about the anger in his voice.
“You shouldn’t even start thinking like that, do you hear me? We will survive this. Together, Shinsuke.“
The door to the room opened before he could think of a reply. Gintoki stood in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame.
“Tatsuma is gone.”
The shocked silence that followed his words was far worse than anything anybody could have said.
Sakamoto of all people. The one man who had always looked like he was the only one able to laugh even the horror of war in the face. That he should be the first of the four of them to break…Takasugi remembered his words on the last evening of their work at town: that Sakamoto would be the last one to tell him what to do and what not. A decision, made out of his own free will…now he finally understood what his friend had meant.
***
Only during the next days it became apparent just how much of a difference Sakamoto’s presence had made for their morale. Even the last bits of laughter seemed to have disappeared from their ranks after his departure. Nobody had realized how much it had helped to have the idiot around, constantly having the sound of his voice coming from somewhere. Takasugi had often been annoyed by it; now he found himself wishing to be able to hear it just one more time. However, there was a tiny part of his soul which insisted that the only possible reason his friend had left them was that he was the traitor they had been searching for.
He hated it and tried to get rid of those thoughts but they stayed with him whether he wanted them to or not. He noticed that he had been seeking loneliness a lot in these past days, just like now. Through the tree tops he could see the light blue sky and asked himself where Sakamoto might be this moment. Then he looked over to the crumbling buildings that served as their quarters at the moment. He remembered all the wounded and the dying inside and suddenly he felt rage surging up inside him. Rage at the Amanto who had hurt and killed so many of his comrades, at Sakamoto who had simply left them behind, at the world that seemed to take away everything important to him - and rage at himself, at his own weakness and inability to change anything. He couldn’t bear it anymore.
He clenched his fists, started punching the tree in front of him. He just couldn’t believe it. Why would Tatsuma just walk away like that? His thoughts kept returning to this point. And again, a nasty little voice inside his head began to whisper in his mind: what if Sakamoto really had been the traitor? Why else would he just vanish? He tried to push those thoughts aside. But they didn’t disappear completely. Instead, they remained hidden inside him, slowly poisoning his trust.
“Takasugi!”
It took him a while to focus his mind on reality. Somebody put a hand on his arm, pulled him away from the tree that had served as an outlet for his anger.
“What-“ Zura’s eyes widened when he looked at his hands. Takasugi followed his shocked gaze; only now he noticed that the skin over his knuckles had burst open and coloured the stem and his hands red.
“Shinsuke, are you all right?” Although Zura’s face displayed nothing more than honest worry and slight confusion, from one moment to the other Takasugi felt more rage welling up inside him. He wanted to hit him, wanted to shout that nothing was all right, nothing, that they might have no more chances to win but that he would still continue until he died if only for the purpose of not having to see his friends die before him. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to frighten Zura again. Besides, he knew his words would be useless anyway.
So instead, all he could reply with was a choked “Yes.”
He could see that his friend didn’t believe him. However, Zura knew him well enough not to continue asking. Instead he simply nodded, turned around and walked back to the buildings. Takasugi looked after him before staring down at his own hands again. He watched the blood trickle down, strangely reassuring somehow. It felt like the entire world around him was slowly drowning in red.
***
“Zura.”
The samurai didn’t turn around when he heard Takasugi entering the room. He was busy sorting through and looking at maps again. However, it said a lot that he didn’t even correct his unloved nickname. Tatsuma’s departure must’ve shaken him deeply as well. And Takasugi’s outburst earlier had just contributed to this feeling.
“I’m going into town again.”
Finally Katsura turned his head, a shocked and worried look in his eyes.
“Shinsuke, wait! You know it’s too dangerous. We are wanted men! If they find you…” But Takasugi only shrugged his shoulders. At this moment, he didn’t care. He needed a distraction, had to see something else besides the same faces filled with despair around him.
Dusk had already started to settle when he approached the bridge behind which the liveliest quarters of the town were located.
On the bridge, he could see a huge amount of people clustering at the rails. They were chatting agitatedly, pointing with their fingers down to the riverside. Takasugi pushed his way through them, only threw a quick glance to his right to see what they got so worked up over - and stopped, his whole body suddenly petrified. It was one of the Bakufu’s favourite spots for displaying the severed heads of criminals.
There were many more than usual. What was much worse was the fact that they were no strangers this time. Many of the half-rotten faces staring at him had familiar features. Some of them he had only known distantly - mostly those who had served under somebody else. However, there were also those who were so familiar that his hands began to tremble. He recognized their faces, knew their names, their stories…they were his men, members of his Kiheitai. Names crossed his mind without him wanting them to. Names and memories of the very same people, alive and breathing. Yasuhiko, Masa…and there, Saburou. A young man who had entered the war only to spite his father, a famous inventor from Edo. He was only average at fighting, but had considerable skill when it came to handle the guns and other technical weapons once they had managed to get hold of them. All of them had died during the last small skirmish that one of his units had gotten into.
His hands clenched around the wooden rail of the bridge. The emptiness inside him slowly started to fill with burning rage. They didn’t deserve this, none of them. They hadn’t deserved dying like that, much less having their heads displayed like this. And he hadn’t been able to do anything against it, he had failed to protect his own men. Quietly he swore to himself once again to take his revenge on this cold world.
He didn’t know how long he had been standing there on the bridge, lost in thoughts and looking at what had once been his comrades. Much too late he heard the loud, excited voices coming closer and closer.
Officers of the shogunate. They were shouting and pushing people aside, trying to get close - they had probably recognized him. Only now he noticed that he was still carrying his sword. Takasugi cursed himself and his light-headedness. How could he have forgotten to put away his weapon? In a country where the law now forbade every samurai safe the police and higher-ups to carry swords he had to attract attention like a blue dog, walking around like this. Pushing through the crowd surrounding him he tried to get away and over the bridge as unobtrusively as possible. He could hear agitated murmurs behind him and a quick glance over his shoulder showed him that they were getting closer. He cursed again and tried to walk faster. It was clear that he wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but there had to be a different possibility…
Finally, an idea flashed through his mind. He made his way through the people who, drawn in by the commotion, were pushing in the opposite direction and looked around the buildings to his side. He found what he was looking for eventually. With a few quick steps he turned away from the large crowded main street into a small, empty alleyway on his right side. He kept walking until he found himself in a backyard surrounded by houses. The noise of the main street was barely audible anymore.
He drew his sword and waited.
It didn’t take long for his pursuers to turn up. They obviously believed they had cornered him. Takasugi flashed an evil smile at them. Finally he would get the chance to satisfy the roaring rage inside him. The empty eye sockets at the riverside seemed to cheer him on, telling him to repay blood with blood. With a shout on his lips he charged at his foes. For a moment, they weren’t human anymore to his eyes - just creatures that he had to kill as soon and as quickly as possible.
He didn’t see the weapon; only when he heard a loud bang and felt a sharp pain in his upper arm he noticed that one of them was carrying a gun. For the moment though, it only served to fuel his anger and he killed the man who had been so surprised that he hadn’t aimed properly, with a single strike of his sword. It was Takasugi’s luck that the guy had been the only one carrying a firearm. The other three only had swords.
In the end, they didn’t really stand a chance. He felt like he was being swept away by his emotions. His senses seemed to be unnaturally sharp, pushing aside the pain in his body for the moment whilst his own blood mixed with those of his enemies. He realized that it had been a while since he had felt so alive. A beast that only saw the value of his own life when it was destroying that of others.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably not longer than only a few moments everything was over. Takasugi looked around. He saw four corpses, their blood staining the ground a deep red. Only when he wanted to clean the blade of his own sword he noticed that he himself hadn’t escaped unharmed. Apart from the gunshot wound just beneath his shoulder paralyzing his entire arm by now he had a flat, but strongly bleeding cut on his leg and another, deeper one his back. None of them were life-threatening since they had miraculously avoided the major blood vessels, but he was loosing a lot of blood.
Strange.
Somehow, loosing his temper seemed to have made him careless.
He turned around, a curse on his lips. He had to leave this place as soon a possible before even more men of the police force would turn up. He suppressed a scream as his wounded leg suddenly gave way and he could only prevent himself from falling to the ground by leaning onto the wall next to him. All the pain he hadn’t felt just moments ago now came back to hit him with twice its force. He tried to keep on going, but the earth had started to become unsteady. He lost his balance and slowly slid down the wall to the ground. If he would rest for a bit…just a short moment. Covered in blood as he was he probably wouldn’t be able to walk on the streets without being seen anyway. No, better wait until it was completely dark. Yes, exactly, that was the right thing to do, just a few minutes of rest…
***
“Dammit, Shinsuke, what were you thinking? Do you know what a close call it was? You could be dead!”
Zura again.
Slowly, Takasugi opened his eye. It took a while for the blurred lines in front of him to flow together and form Katsura’s face. He wanted to say something but his friend didn’t even let him start the sentence. Takasugi had hardly ever seen him so angry.
“It was pure chance that we were the first ones to find you! The smell of blood was so intense that you were lucky the people from the shogunate didn’t arrive before us! You didn’t only endanger yourself but us as well. Who else would be able to lead the Kiheitai if you’re dead? Do you realize just how careless you have been? Or do you want to be the next one whose head will be a feast for crows at the riverside? You-“
Somebody dropped his hand on the shoulder of the furious samurai.
“Oi, Zura, give him a break. Takasugi looks like he’s going to slip right back into unconsciousness again if you keep shouting at him like that. There will be more than enough time for accusations later.”
“IT’S NOT ZURA IT’S KATSURA!” With those words he got up and left the room, still fuming. Gintoki waited for the noise to die down until he turned around to Takasugi again. He frowned when he looked upon him.
“He’s just worried. We were all worried when you still weren’t back in the middle of the night. I hope you understand. However, in contrast to Zura I don’t believe that sitting here and shouting at you non-stop is going to improve anything…he’s right though. You should really try and take more care of yourself.”
Takasugi sighed and tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through his arm and he bit his tongue to keep himself from crying out. Gintoki looked at him worriedly but he didn’t do anything to hinder him. He knew it would be useless.
“You’re even more of a blockhead than Zura. I would be more careful in your place. How on earth did you even manage to get rounded up that badly? I know you can be an idiot at times but I didn’t think you were blind, too…”
“Gintoki…”
But the silver-haired man suddenly wasn’t able to look into the eye anymore when he continued talking.
“You have changed, Shinsuke. I can’t even tell exactly what it is but…you were never easy to read. But by now I don’t even have the slightest idea anymore what’s going on inside you. Zura noticed it, too, but he would never tell you. Sometimes you feel like a stranger, not like somebody we have known for a long time…”
His voice slowly trailed off.
Takasugi looked at the shapes of the shadows on the wooden ceiling, lost in thought. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. For some reason, he wasn’t able to tell Gintoki about the monster inside him which kept nagging on his soul, this quiet voice stealing his sleep from time to time, endlessly calling for blood.
His friend seemed to understand his reasons, but the disappointment in his eyes as he got up still hurt. When he was leaving, his hand shortly rested on Takasugi’s shoulder. It was a firm touch.
Takasugi could still feel its warmth long after Gintoki had left.
***
“We’ll change our base, again.” Katsura expectantly looked into the faces of those surrounding him. A good week had passed since Takasugi’s trip to town. Since then, the frequency of incidents with Amanto patrols had increased - if due to his encounter and subsequent murder of the policemen, they didn’t know.
Yasuo, still to weak to stand, frowned.
„Why? Many of us are weakened due to wounds or illnesses. A forced march to a new place is not going to help anybody’s recovery. And let’s not talk about those who are unable to walk or even stand on their own…what are we supposed to do with them? Carry them?”
“This place isn’t safe. I’m worried that the Amanto will find us sooner or later. It seems strange that they haven’t attacked us yet, especially regarding the fact that the traitor might still be amongst us. But it’s only a matter of time, I think. The winter is almost over now so that we can go further up into the mountains without having to worry about freezing to death. Chances that they’ll find us are much lower up there. We’ll have to think about something with the ill and wounded though…”
“And the traitor?” Nobody had dared to touch this sensitive issue again, but finally, one of them chimed in. “As you said, we still don’t have any idea who he is and if he’s still amongst us. Apart from Takasugi, nobody here has really left this place since we arrived, maybe because we increased security. If the traitor’s still amongst us though…if he somehow manages to communicate our position and our route to the Amanto then…even the most faraway and secret hideout won’t be of any use anymore!” Many of their comrades were murmuring their support for those words.
Katsura crossed his arms and looked them in the eyes, one by one.
“In my opinion, there is only one way to avoid danger as best as possible: we need to keep the number of people who know about the actual target of our journey to an absolute minimum. I personally would trust all of the attendants here with my life, but still I’d like to suggest the following plan: we divide our forces into three groups. Takasugi is taking his Kiheitai and a few others, Gintoki and me half of the remaining men each. Only the three of us will know about our final destination and our closest confidants at least part of the way. The location I have in mind is so remote that we would hopefully notice somebody escaping just like we could when we lived in those huts in the forest back then. Worst case scenario, we could still set up a good defence up there. Everybody happy with this notion?”
All remained silent. Takasugi noticed that many of them didn’t like the idea but all knew that Zura was ultimately right. They couldn’t remain so close to town. In the mountains they might be more difficult to find even for the Amanto.
***
A few days later they were on their way. They were trying to take as few things with them as possible - a challenge which was much easier than first thought since they didn’t possess much anymore anyway. Spring had finally come and most men in Takasugi’s Kiheitai seemed to be happy about the warmth of the sunshine on their skin.
It was shortly after noon when they finally reached their first important waypoint. They stopped for a short lunch break before continuing on their way. At the moment, it was still Yasuo leading the way before Takasugi would take over the next day. As Zura had proposed, nobody apart from him, Gintoki and Takasugi new the actual destination of their journey.
Although he tried to hide it, Takasugi felt how difficult it was for him to keep up with his men. Even Yasuo who had recovered from his severe injury just in time did better than him. He felt the weakness creeping up inside and paralyzing him bit by bit. The gunshot wound had started acting up again, as had the cut in his leg. He knew he hadn’t given himself enough time to heal up properly and now he was paying the price for it. He had told the others he was fine and although their eyes told them a different story they had still believed his words. But he could feel his body screaming out, telling him he was doing too much. It was mostly his will which kept him going - it wouldn’t help anybody if he’d just collapse here. Not himself and much less his men who trusted him wholeheartedly. He had to bring them to their new hideout safely, no matter the price.
Later he told himself that he should have noticed earlier that something wasn’t right. But exhausted and ill as he was he only felt that something was wrong seconds before it happened. And by then it was already too late.
They were walking on a wide road which was slowly climbing up the woody flank of a mountain. The ground was rising steeply to their left whilst descending more gently on their right. From time to time they passed some rocks and boulders, many of them already overgrown.
Behind some of those their attackers were hiding.
Their position was well chosen since on this little-walked route the Amanto had the sun in their backs which was an advantage not to be underestimated. It wasn’t a large troop waiting for them, but regarding the few men that were left of his Kiheitai it could have been hundreds with the same result. Takasugi’s men were exhausted and worn out after the hard winter whereas their foes seemed to be well-rested and brimming with energy. The Amanto attacked them with incredible ferociousness as if they wanted to completely wipe the Kiheitai’s existence off the earth.
Takasugi gave his comrades credit for still keeping their discipline and not simply running away although their situation was more or less futile. Instead, they quickly got rid of all the things they were carrying and which could be in the way during a fight. Then they drew their swords. Not all of them managed to do so in time; some were already killed before they even had a chance to fight back. The Amanto quickly distributed their fighters around their group so that they could attack from the front and rear at the same time. A third cohort cut straight through their middle.
Takasugi saw how Yasuo and the others were desperately trying to keep the Amanto off, then they got separated. He had barely any time to worry about the others since the first one of the aliens was already attacking him. He parried the first blow. It was a strong one, the sword coming down with a might that made the muscles and sinews in his body scream. A second one followed, again with the same strength. Soon, he stopped counting, concentrated only on his foe. Finally he managed to take him out. However, only moments later the next creature was over him, thirsting for his blood.
There seemed to be no end to them. Even after killing a few, more and more emerged all around.
For a few moments, the adrenaline in his body did its work, making him forget all the pain and weakness he had felt before. Shouting and screaming he slashed his way through the Amanto, tried desperately to get back to his men that he had got separated from. However, he felt like he was running against a surge, as if all his attackers had somehow aimed to isolate him from the rest of his Kiheitai.
Again, Takasugi doubled his efforts, threw himself against the wall of Amanto, letting his sword whirl around and taste the blood of his hated opponents. But they were by far too many and he could feel his strength leaving him already. He didn’t see the strike on his blind side coming in time and when the flat side of the sword hit his barely healed gun shot wound he cried out in pain and stumbled. He caught sight of the kick aimed at him at the very last moment, but had no chance to escape the heavy boot digging into his stomach. He choked, was thrown back, couldn’t keep his balance and fell to the ground.
Almost at the same moment somebody stepped on the hand he was holding his sword with, treading on it again and again with full force. He felt his bones crack and pain shot through him like an arrow. With a chocked scream he opened his fingers. His sword disappeared from his vision shortly after. A thought flashed through his head. Was this the end?
Why did they take so long to kill him? He wouldn’t give up that easily. He would take as many down with him as possible. His right hand was completely useless by now. Looking around for the mighty sword blow that would end it all, his left was searching for the dagger he was always carrying with him.
“Oh no, we won’t let you go that easily.” The voice was coming from somewhere above him. Something hit his side, so hard that he curled up in pain. Another kick turned him around on his stomach. He could taste the soil in his mouth, struggled with all the strength that was left within him, but his efforts were futile. Suddenly, a heavy weight was on his back, pressing his body down onto the ground, so hard that he could feel the incredible strain on his ribs. Somebody digged his fingers into his hair and bend his head back whilst his other hand wrapped around his throat, throttling him. Takasugi kept on fighting, blindly lashed out at everything in his vicinity. But he could feel the last precious drops of air vanish from his lungs and his eyesight went blurry. His movements became slower and weaker. When the merciless pressure finally ceased and the Amanto on his back disappeared, all strength had left him. He tried desperately to suck in air through his squeezed throat and felt how he was trembling. Somebody bent his arms on his back and tied his wrists and ankles together with rough ropes.
“Bastards!” He still tried to flee, cursed all the Amanto and the Bakufu until somebody hit the wound on his arm with full force. More kicks and blows followed. He could taste blood in his mouth and everything in front of his eye started to blur together. He heard screams that sounded roughly like his name coming from far away and quiet laughter next to his ear. Then the tip of a boot hit him directly in the temple, extingushing the world around him with a single strike.
Series: Gintama
Characters: (Jouishishi) Takasugi, Gintoki, Katsura,
Rating: T/M
Length: 4,636 words
Summary: Takasugi slowly starts loosing his control and things go bad.
Warnings: violence
Notes: Yes, I'm alive! This has actually been finished for quite a while but I never got round making the final edits - first my life kinda screwed me over again and then Jojo's Bizzare Adventure hit me like a meteor. No, don't worry, Gintama will forever be one of my favourite fandoms - it's just a bit harder to combine fangirling (and writing) in two fandoms with equal ferocity and a quite demanding MA Degree all into one without neglecting something. /personal whining
But as I said, this story IS finished already, I just need to tweak things and put it online. (And I noticed that my writing style changed again in the last 6 months. That makes it even more interesting. Er. I might actually rewrite the entire thing slightly if I ever bring up enough courage to get an account on A3O...)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! There's actually stuff going on this time, even some action. From the things that happen I think it's actually my favourite chapter in the story. I just enjoy writing Takasugi, especially emotionally unstable Takasugi so much, haha.
The next chapter was hard to write and will be even harder to edit I think...
Chapter 5
The feeling of relief that had spread amongst their comrades after their return and the new supplies didn’t last long. Reality caught up with them way too fast and their helpless situation began weighing down their mood once again. Weeks went by and they fought several other battles with the Amanto, but none as large as the last one. Those skirmishes didn’t seem to have much effect either apart from more deaths on both sides. Again, they tried to make plans, struggled to find a way out of a situation that became more and more desperate by the day.
Katsura had finally recovered and seemed to be almost himself again. He was full of ideas and completely focused on his task as their primary strategist, forever brooding over maps and trying to devise new plans.
It was a familiar situation - once more they were discussing strategies, thinking about whether they should attempt another attack or regroup at a different place, trying to find other Joui groups that were still fighting and join forces with them.
Takasugi sighed. It was the fourth day that they were dealing with this question now and they still hadn’t gotten any closer to a solution than on the days before.
“I will cover your retreat if we fight. Even if they should catch me, you’ll still have enough chances to escape. Then-“
Katsura jerked around and grabbed the collar of his yukata.
“Stop talking like this!”
Takasugi was surprised about the anger in his voice.
“You shouldn’t even start thinking like that, do you hear me? We will survive this. Together, Shinsuke.“
The door to the room opened before he could think of a reply. Gintoki stood in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame.
“Tatsuma is gone.”
The shocked silence that followed his words was far worse than anything anybody could have said.
Sakamoto of all people. The one man who had always looked like he was the only one able to laugh even the horror of war in the face. That he should be the first of the four of them to break…Takasugi remembered his words on the last evening of their work at town: that Sakamoto would be the last one to tell him what to do and what not. A decision, made out of his own free will…now he finally understood what his friend had meant.
***
Only during the next days it became apparent just how much of a difference Sakamoto’s presence had made for their morale. Even the last bits of laughter seemed to have disappeared from their ranks after his departure. Nobody had realized how much it had helped to have the idiot around, constantly having the sound of his voice coming from somewhere. Takasugi had often been annoyed by it; now he found himself wishing to be able to hear it just one more time. However, there was a tiny part of his soul which insisted that the only possible reason his friend had left them was that he was the traitor they had been searching for.
He hated it and tried to get rid of those thoughts but they stayed with him whether he wanted them to or not. He noticed that he had been seeking loneliness a lot in these past days, just like now. Through the tree tops he could see the light blue sky and asked himself where Sakamoto might be this moment. Then he looked over to the crumbling buildings that served as their quarters at the moment. He remembered all the wounded and the dying inside and suddenly he felt rage surging up inside him. Rage at the Amanto who had hurt and killed so many of his comrades, at Sakamoto who had simply left them behind, at the world that seemed to take away everything important to him - and rage at himself, at his own weakness and inability to change anything. He couldn’t bear it anymore.
He clenched his fists, started punching the tree in front of him. He just couldn’t believe it. Why would Tatsuma just walk away like that? His thoughts kept returning to this point. And again, a nasty little voice inside his head began to whisper in his mind: what if Sakamoto really had been the traitor? Why else would he just vanish? He tried to push those thoughts aside. But they didn’t disappear completely. Instead, they remained hidden inside him, slowly poisoning his trust.
“Takasugi!”
It took him a while to focus his mind on reality. Somebody put a hand on his arm, pulled him away from the tree that had served as an outlet for his anger.
“What-“ Zura’s eyes widened when he looked at his hands. Takasugi followed his shocked gaze; only now he noticed that the skin over his knuckles had burst open and coloured the stem and his hands red.
“Shinsuke, are you all right?” Although Zura’s face displayed nothing more than honest worry and slight confusion, from one moment to the other Takasugi felt more rage welling up inside him. He wanted to hit him, wanted to shout that nothing was all right, nothing, that they might have no more chances to win but that he would still continue until he died if only for the purpose of not having to see his friends die before him. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to frighten Zura again. Besides, he knew his words would be useless anyway.
So instead, all he could reply with was a choked “Yes.”
He could see that his friend didn’t believe him. However, Zura knew him well enough not to continue asking. Instead he simply nodded, turned around and walked back to the buildings. Takasugi looked after him before staring down at his own hands again. He watched the blood trickle down, strangely reassuring somehow. It felt like the entire world around him was slowly drowning in red.
***
“Zura.”
The samurai didn’t turn around when he heard Takasugi entering the room. He was busy sorting through and looking at maps again. However, it said a lot that he didn’t even correct his unloved nickname. Tatsuma’s departure must’ve shaken him deeply as well. And Takasugi’s outburst earlier had just contributed to this feeling.
“I’m going into town again.”
Finally Katsura turned his head, a shocked and worried look in his eyes.
“Shinsuke, wait! You know it’s too dangerous. We are wanted men! If they find you…” But Takasugi only shrugged his shoulders. At this moment, he didn’t care. He needed a distraction, had to see something else besides the same faces filled with despair around him.
Dusk had already started to settle when he approached the bridge behind which the liveliest quarters of the town were located.
On the bridge, he could see a huge amount of people clustering at the rails. They were chatting agitatedly, pointing with their fingers down to the riverside. Takasugi pushed his way through them, only threw a quick glance to his right to see what they got so worked up over - and stopped, his whole body suddenly petrified. It was one of the Bakufu’s favourite spots for displaying the severed heads of criminals.
There were many more than usual. What was much worse was the fact that they were no strangers this time. Many of the half-rotten faces staring at him had familiar features. Some of them he had only known distantly - mostly those who had served under somebody else. However, there were also those who were so familiar that his hands began to tremble. He recognized their faces, knew their names, their stories…they were his men, members of his Kiheitai. Names crossed his mind without him wanting them to. Names and memories of the very same people, alive and breathing. Yasuhiko, Masa…and there, Saburou. A young man who had entered the war only to spite his father, a famous inventor from Edo. He was only average at fighting, but had considerable skill when it came to handle the guns and other technical weapons once they had managed to get hold of them. All of them had died during the last small skirmish that one of his units had gotten into.
His hands clenched around the wooden rail of the bridge. The emptiness inside him slowly started to fill with burning rage. They didn’t deserve this, none of them. They hadn’t deserved dying like that, much less having their heads displayed like this. And he hadn’t been able to do anything against it, he had failed to protect his own men. Quietly he swore to himself once again to take his revenge on this cold world.
He didn’t know how long he had been standing there on the bridge, lost in thoughts and looking at what had once been his comrades. Much too late he heard the loud, excited voices coming closer and closer.
Officers of the shogunate. They were shouting and pushing people aside, trying to get close - they had probably recognized him. Only now he noticed that he was still carrying his sword. Takasugi cursed himself and his light-headedness. How could he have forgotten to put away his weapon? In a country where the law now forbade every samurai safe the police and higher-ups to carry swords he had to attract attention like a blue dog, walking around like this. Pushing through the crowd surrounding him he tried to get away and over the bridge as unobtrusively as possible. He could hear agitated murmurs behind him and a quick glance over his shoulder showed him that they were getting closer. He cursed again and tried to walk faster. It was clear that he wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but there had to be a different possibility…
Finally, an idea flashed through his mind. He made his way through the people who, drawn in by the commotion, were pushing in the opposite direction and looked around the buildings to his side. He found what he was looking for eventually. With a few quick steps he turned away from the large crowded main street into a small, empty alleyway on his right side. He kept walking until he found himself in a backyard surrounded by houses. The noise of the main street was barely audible anymore.
He drew his sword and waited.
It didn’t take long for his pursuers to turn up. They obviously believed they had cornered him. Takasugi flashed an evil smile at them. Finally he would get the chance to satisfy the roaring rage inside him. The empty eye sockets at the riverside seemed to cheer him on, telling him to repay blood with blood. With a shout on his lips he charged at his foes. For a moment, they weren’t human anymore to his eyes - just creatures that he had to kill as soon and as quickly as possible.
He didn’t see the weapon; only when he heard a loud bang and felt a sharp pain in his upper arm he noticed that one of them was carrying a gun. For the moment though, it only served to fuel his anger and he killed the man who had been so surprised that he hadn’t aimed properly, with a single strike of his sword. It was Takasugi’s luck that the guy had been the only one carrying a firearm. The other three only had swords.
In the end, they didn’t really stand a chance. He felt like he was being swept away by his emotions. His senses seemed to be unnaturally sharp, pushing aside the pain in his body for the moment whilst his own blood mixed with those of his enemies. He realized that it had been a while since he had felt so alive. A beast that only saw the value of his own life when it was destroying that of others.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably not longer than only a few moments everything was over. Takasugi looked around. He saw four corpses, their blood staining the ground a deep red. Only when he wanted to clean the blade of his own sword he noticed that he himself hadn’t escaped unharmed. Apart from the gunshot wound just beneath his shoulder paralyzing his entire arm by now he had a flat, but strongly bleeding cut on his leg and another, deeper one his back. None of them were life-threatening since they had miraculously avoided the major blood vessels, but he was loosing a lot of blood.
Strange.
Somehow, loosing his temper seemed to have made him careless.
He turned around, a curse on his lips. He had to leave this place as soon a possible before even more men of the police force would turn up. He suppressed a scream as his wounded leg suddenly gave way and he could only prevent himself from falling to the ground by leaning onto the wall next to him. All the pain he hadn’t felt just moments ago now came back to hit him with twice its force. He tried to keep on going, but the earth had started to become unsteady. He lost his balance and slowly slid down the wall to the ground. If he would rest for a bit…just a short moment. Covered in blood as he was he probably wouldn’t be able to walk on the streets without being seen anyway. No, better wait until it was completely dark. Yes, exactly, that was the right thing to do, just a few minutes of rest…
***
“Dammit, Shinsuke, what were you thinking? Do you know what a close call it was? You could be dead!”
Zura again.
Slowly, Takasugi opened his eye. It took a while for the blurred lines in front of him to flow together and form Katsura’s face. He wanted to say something but his friend didn’t even let him start the sentence. Takasugi had hardly ever seen him so angry.
“It was pure chance that we were the first ones to find you! The smell of blood was so intense that you were lucky the people from the shogunate didn’t arrive before us! You didn’t only endanger yourself but us as well. Who else would be able to lead the Kiheitai if you’re dead? Do you realize just how careless you have been? Or do you want to be the next one whose head will be a feast for crows at the riverside? You-“
Somebody dropped his hand on the shoulder of the furious samurai.
“Oi, Zura, give him a break. Takasugi looks like he’s going to slip right back into unconsciousness again if you keep shouting at him like that. There will be more than enough time for accusations later.”
“IT’S NOT ZURA IT’S KATSURA!” With those words he got up and left the room, still fuming. Gintoki waited for the noise to die down until he turned around to Takasugi again. He frowned when he looked upon him.
“He’s just worried. We were all worried when you still weren’t back in the middle of the night. I hope you understand. However, in contrast to Zura I don’t believe that sitting here and shouting at you non-stop is going to improve anything…he’s right though. You should really try and take more care of yourself.”
Takasugi sighed and tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through his arm and he bit his tongue to keep himself from crying out. Gintoki looked at him worriedly but he didn’t do anything to hinder him. He knew it would be useless.
“You’re even more of a blockhead than Zura. I would be more careful in your place. How on earth did you even manage to get rounded up that badly? I know you can be an idiot at times but I didn’t think you were blind, too…”
“Gintoki…”
But the silver-haired man suddenly wasn’t able to look into the eye anymore when he continued talking.
“You have changed, Shinsuke. I can’t even tell exactly what it is but…you were never easy to read. But by now I don’t even have the slightest idea anymore what’s going on inside you. Zura noticed it, too, but he would never tell you. Sometimes you feel like a stranger, not like somebody we have known for a long time…”
His voice slowly trailed off.
Takasugi looked at the shapes of the shadows on the wooden ceiling, lost in thought. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. For some reason, he wasn’t able to tell Gintoki about the monster inside him which kept nagging on his soul, this quiet voice stealing his sleep from time to time, endlessly calling for blood.
His friend seemed to understand his reasons, but the disappointment in his eyes as he got up still hurt. When he was leaving, his hand shortly rested on Takasugi’s shoulder. It was a firm touch.
Takasugi could still feel its warmth long after Gintoki had left.
***
“We’ll change our base, again.” Katsura expectantly looked into the faces of those surrounding him. A good week had passed since Takasugi’s trip to town. Since then, the frequency of incidents with Amanto patrols had increased - if due to his encounter and subsequent murder of the policemen, they didn’t know.
Yasuo, still to weak to stand, frowned.
„Why? Many of us are weakened due to wounds or illnesses. A forced march to a new place is not going to help anybody’s recovery. And let’s not talk about those who are unable to walk or even stand on their own…what are we supposed to do with them? Carry them?”
“This place isn’t safe. I’m worried that the Amanto will find us sooner or later. It seems strange that they haven’t attacked us yet, especially regarding the fact that the traitor might still be amongst us. But it’s only a matter of time, I think. The winter is almost over now so that we can go further up into the mountains without having to worry about freezing to death. Chances that they’ll find us are much lower up there. We’ll have to think about something with the ill and wounded though…”
“And the traitor?” Nobody had dared to touch this sensitive issue again, but finally, one of them chimed in. “As you said, we still don’t have any idea who he is and if he’s still amongst us. Apart from Takasugi, nobody here has really left this place since we arrived, maybe because we increased security. If the traitor’s still amongst us though…if he somehow manages to communicate our position and our route to the Amanto then…even the most faraway and secret hideout won’t be of any use anymore!” Many of their comrades were murmuring their support for those words.
Katsura crossed his arms and looked them in the eyes, one by one.
“In my opinion, there is only one way to avoid danger as best as possible: we need to keep the number of people who know about the actual target of our journey to an absolute minimum. I personally would trust all of the attendants here with my life, but still I’d like to suggest the following plan: we divide our forces into three groups. Takasugi is taking his Kiheitai and a few others, Gintoki and me half of the remaining men each. Only the three of us will know about our final destination and our closest confidants at least part of the way. The location I have in mind is so remote that we would hopefully notice somebody escaping just like we could when we lived in those huts in the forest back then. Worst case scenario, we could still set up a good defence up there. Everybody happy with this notion?”
All remained silent. Takasugi noticed that many of them didn’t like the idea but all knew that Zura was ultimately right. They couldn’t remain so close to town. In the mountains they might be more difficult to find even for the Amanto.
***
A few days later they were on their way. They were trying to take as few things with them as possible - a challenge which was much easier than first thought since they didn’t possess much anymore anyway. Spring had finally come and most men in Takasugi’s Kiheitai seemed to be happy about the warmth of the sunshine on their skin.
It was shortly after noon when they finally reached their first important waypoint. They stopped for a short lunch break before continuing on their way. At the moment, it was still Yasuo leading the way before Takasugi would take over the next day. As Zura had proposed, nobody apart from him, Gintoki and Takasugi new the actual destination of their journey.
Although he tried to hide it, Takasugi felt how difficult it was for him to keep up with his men. Even Yasuo who had recovered from his severe injury just in time did better than him. He felt the weakness creeping up inside and paralyzing him bit by bit. The gunshot wound had started acting up again, as had the cut in his leg. He knew he hadn’t given himself enough time to heal up properly and now he was paying the price for it. He had told the others he was fine and although their eyes told them a different story they had still believed his words. But he could feel his body screaming out, telling him he was doing too much. It was mostly his will which kept him going - it wouldn’t help anybody if he’d just collapse here. Not himself and much less his men who trusted him wholeheartedly. He had to bring them to their new hideout safely, no matter the price.
Later he told himself that he should have noticed earlier that something wasn’t right. But exhausted and ill as he was he only felt that something was wrong seconds before it happened. And by then it was already too late.
They were walking on a wide road which was slowly climbing up the woody flank of a mountain. The ground was rising steeply to their left whilst descending more gently on their right. From time to time they passed some rocks and boulders, many of them already overgrown.
Behind some of those their attackers were hiding.
Their position was well chosen since on this little-walked route the Amanto had the sun in their backs which was an advantage not to be underestimated. It wasn’t a large troop waiting for them, but regarding the few men that were left of his Kiheitai it could have been hundreds with the same result. Takasugi’s men were exhausted and worn out after the hard winter whereas their foes seemed to be well-rested and brimming with energy. The Amanto attacked them with incredible ferociousness as if they wanted to completely wipe the Kiheitai’s existence off the earth.
Takasugi gave his comrades credit for still keeping their discipline and not simply running away although their situation was more or less futile. Instead, they quickly got rid of all the things they were carrying and which could be in the way during a fight. Then they drew their swords. Not all of them managed to do so in time; some were already killed before they even had a chance to fight back. The Amanto quickly distributed their fighters around their group so that they could attack from the front and rear at the same time. A third cohort cut straight through their middle.
Takasugi saw how Yasuo and the others were desperately trying to keep the Amanto off, then they got separated. He had barely any time to worry about the others since the first one of the aliens was already attacking him. He parried the first blow. It was a strong one, the sword coming down with a might that made the muscles and sinews in his body scream. A second one followed, again with the same strength. Soon, he stopped counting, concentrated only on his foe. Finally he managed to take him out. However, only moments later the next creature was over him, thirsting for his blood.
There seemed to be no end to them. Even after killing a few, more and more emerged all around.
For a few moments, the adrenaline in his body did its work, making him forget all the pain and weakness he had felt before. Shouting and screaming he slashed his way through the Amanto, tried desperately to get back to his men that he had got separated from. However, he felt like he was running against a surge, as if all his attackers had somehow aimed to isolate him from the rest of his Kiheitai.
Again, Takasugi doubled his efforts, threw himself against the wall of Amanto, letting his sword whirl around and taste the blood of his hated opponents. But they were by far too many and he could feel his strength leaving him already. He didn’t see the strike on his blind side coming in time and when the flat side of the sword hit his barely healed gun shot wound he cried out in pain and stumbled. He caught sight of the kick aimed at him at the very last moment, but had no chance to escape the heavy boot digging into his stomach. He choked, was thrown back, couldn’t keep his balance and fell to the ground.
Almost at the same moment somebody stepped on the hand he was holding his sword with, treading on it again and again with full force. He felt his bones crack and pain shot through him like an arrow. With a chocked scream he opened his fingers. His sword disappeared from his vision shortly after. A thought flashed through his head. Was this the end?
Why did they take so long to kill him? He wouldn’t give up that easily. He would take as many down with him as possible. His right hand was completely useless by now. Looking around for the mighty sword blow that would end it all, his left was searching for the dagger he was always carrying with him.
“Oh no, we won’t let you go that easily.” The voice was coming from somewhere above him. Something hit his side, so hard that he curled up in pain. Another kick turned him around on his stomach. He could taste the soil in his mouth, struggled with all the strength that was left within him, but his efforts were futile. Suddenly, a heavy weight was on his back, pressing his body down onto the ground, so hard that he could feel the incredible strain on his ribs. Somebody digged his fingers into his hair and bend his head back whilst his other hand wrapped around his throat, throttling him. Takasugi kept on fighting, blindly lashed out at everything in his vicinity. But he could feel the last precious drops of air vanish from his lungs and his eyesight went blurry. His movements became slower and weaker. When the merciless pressure finally ceased and the Amanto on his back disappeared, all strength had left him. He tried desperately to suck in air through his squeezed throat and felt how he was trembling. Somebody bent his arms on his back and tied his wrists and ankles together with rough ropes.
“Bastards!” He still tried to flee, cursed all the Amanto and the Bakufu until somebody hit the wound on his arm with full force. More kicks and blows followed. He could taste blood in his mouth and everything in front of his eye started to blur together. He heard screams that sounded roughly like his name coming from far away and quiet laughter next to his ear. Then the tip of a boot hit him directly in the temple, extingushing the world around him with a single strike.