Mishima Eiji swung his shinai, a bamboo practice sword, at Saitou Hajime's right side. Saitou blocked with his own shinai pointed downward, then swept upwards at the boy. Eiji dodged to Saitou's right. There was an opening as Saitou's shinai continued upwards; Eiji stabbed at Saitou's stomach. Before he could hit, though, Saitou's shinai reversed direction and swatted the boy's attack aside. Saitou's shinai made a quick loop and smacked against Eiji's hands, wrapped around the hilt of his shinai. Eiji gasped and dropped the shinai.
"How many times have I told you not to overextend yourself on stabbing attacks?" said Saitou harshly.
They were practicing kenjutsu in the yard at Saitou's Tokyo residence. Mishima Eiji had come to live there after the deaths of his family in Shingetsu Village at the hands of Senkaku, a minion of the tyrant Shishio Makoto. The boy had committed himself to the sword in the months since. Another man might have tried to convince Eiji that following a life of violence would never bring his family back. Saitou did not try to do this.
"But I didn't overextend!" Eiji objected. Eiji had grown a bit since Saitou had taken him in, and was no longer the skinny farmer's son he had been. They both wore white gi shirts and blue hakama pants.
"But you should have," said Saitou.
Eiji's brows furrowed. "But you said never to -"
"Yes, I said that. It is an important rule. When you overextend on a stabbing attack, you can lose your balance if you miss." He went to one knee to look Eiji straight in the eye. "But there is a more important rule, one that trumps all other rules of swordsmanship. It is this: there are no absolute rules in combat. One should never overextend on a stabbing attack. That is true. But if you had overextended, your attack might have struck. It would not matter if you were overextended or not, for I would be dead. The superior swordsman knows when to follow the rules, and when to discard them. Remember that."
"Okay," said Eiji. They had been at it for a while, so the boy went to sit on the porch and rest. Saitou sat next to him. After a little while Eiji said, "Saitou-san? You said the 'superior swordsman'... Who was the greatest swordsman you have encountered?"
Saitou looked over at him accusingly. "You don't think it's me?" Eiji smiled and shrugged. Saitou gave a small smile in return. "No, it isn't." Saitou's vision dimmed as he looked to the past. "You have been in the presence of many of the greatest, at your village. Me, Himura Battousai, the boy Soujirou, Shishio Makoto... Many people would probably say it was one of those four."
Eiji waited a moment, then said, "Well? Was it one of you four?"
"More people than not would probably say that the Battousai, the red-haired one who defeated Senkaku, was the strongest swordsman they had ever seen. He uses the Hiten Mitsurugi Style, did I ever tell you that?" Eiji nodded. "That is a strong style. Some would say the strongest of all. But there was another style that I encountered just once, during the Revolution. It was called the Shinsei Ketsushu Style. And the man who used it was like a nightmare..."
Okita Souji walked the streets of Kyoto, on his way to meet with Saitou Hajime. It was dusk, but already everyone had already gone in for the night. That was how it was these days. The sky was a fiery orange. To the west hung low clouds that had finally begun moving away. It had rained heavily the past three days, and the streets were muddy.
Okita was a small man just over twenty years old. His features were delicate, almost feminine. But there was an air about him that carried as much force as the paired swords he wore on his belt. Everyone who saw him knew the swords were not for show. He also wore the blue-and-white haori jacket of the Shinsengumi. He was one of the most skilled members and Captain of the First Squad.
As he rounded a corner, a voice behind him said, "Shinsengumi."
He turned and saw two men. His first thought was that they looked remarkably similar. As he looked a bit longer he realized they were twins. They were also samurai. They were in their twenties and rather large. Both wore futatsu-ori topknots and paired swords. They were exactly the same height and had identical facial features. The only difference in their appearance was their clothing. The one to the right wore a deep blue kimono; to the left, dark brown.
There was a hint of anger about their eyes. That was common among armed young men in Kyoto.
Okita sensed this would be a fight, but said, "What is it?"
The one in brown said, "I am Hosokawa Shoichi. This is my brother, Inejiro. We are here for your life, Shinsengumi."
"Why?"
"It is not necessary for you to know why. We go where our master commands." As one, the men drew their katanas and held them in both hands.
Okita supposed that was as much talking as they were going to do. He drew his sword and waited.
Inejiro, in the blue, came forward and, with a roar, slashed straight down. Okita dodged to the right. As soon as he did, Shoichi, a step behind Inejiro, stabbed at him. Okita parried to the right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Inejiro doing a sideways slash at his back. He hurriedly bent forward at the waist. The attack went over him. He looked, hoping that the slash might catch Shoichi. But the man in brown twisted to avoid it.
Or was it that the sword swerved to avoid him? Okita could not tell, and had no time to consider. Shoichi's sword came up; Okita was still bent over. He jerked back upright so the sword missed, and then blocked a downward slash by Inejiro. Inejiro, taller than Okita, leaned down on his sword. Okita was strong enough to hold him back, but Shoichi stabbed at him again.
Okita stepped back. At the same time he pulled the hilt of his sword toward him and changed the angle of his wrists. This made his sword rotate around Inejiro's blade, until Okita's was on top. Inejiro was still pushing downward and Okita added his own strength to this momentum. Inejiro's blade rushed down and caught Shoichi's sword, which was stabbing at Okita. Okita kept pushing down until Shoichi's blade hit the muddy street and Inejiro's was trapped between the other two. Okita's was on top, and he quickly brought it up into a slash at Inejiro, to his left.
Inejiro jerked back enough that the attack did not kill him, but it opened a gash across his right shoulder. Inejiro fell back, a pained expression on his face. Okita would have followed but Shoichi moved forward to engage him alone. Their swords clashed between them as Shoichi, chopping and slashing wildly, drove Okita back away from his wounded brother. Okita saw Inejiro take out a roll of bandages and bind his shoulder with practiced motions. Knowing the man would be back to fight soon, Okita readied himself to attack Shoichi, who was still driving him back. Just then Okita stepped into a large puddle in the road.
He lost his balance and began to fall back. Shoichi slashed sideways. Okita allowed himself to fall back further to avoid it, and saw Inejiro coming up fast. Okita jumped and flipped backwards, landing beyond the puddle in a fighting crouch.
The brothers halted, watching warily from the other side of the puddle. There was a long pause as all three combatants calculated the best course. No one wanted to step into the water, since the footing was unsure. The brothers could have gone around on both sides, but that would separate them and might neutralize the advantage of numbers.
Okita took matters into his own hands. He moved right around the water, toward Shoichi. Shoichi moved to meet him, and Inejiro followed. Shoichi stabbed, and Okita made as if to parry. Just before the swords clashed, Okita jumped upward and over Shoichi. Okita saw the surprise on Inejiro's face as he sailed over his brother and came down at him. But Inejiro blocked Okita's downward slash solidly, and Okita was too light for his weight to carry him through the block. He landed with their swords still locked together. Shoichi was behind him, so he spun to his right. As he did, he saw Shoichi stabbing where he had been. He might have hit his brother but again the two seemed to work together to keep that from happening. Inejiro shifted his midsection right while Shoichi's thrust moved the other way, avoiding him.
Okita, taking advantage of their momentary distraction, stabbed at Inejiro. Inejiro did not parry; Shoichi did. The sword of the man in brown, having stopped its thrust, came up horizontally and pushed Okita's sword high. At the same time, Inejiro stabbed underneath Okita's and Shoichi's swords. Okita jerked to his left to avoid it. Shoichi, having parried Okita's thrust, pulled his sword back, over his own head, and around at Okita. Okita ducked under it and backed up a few steps.
He tried to grasp the source of their power. They were undoubtedly well trained, but was that all? He had heard that twins had an uncanny mental link. Was that how they managed to fight together so smoothly? And if so, how was he to defeat them? They had twice the arms and eyes he did, and twice the swords. Yet they moved as one mind. What was the key?
Then the two came forward together. Inejiro came in low and stabbed at the same time as Shoichi, to his right, swung left at Okita's head. If Okita parried the thrust, the swing would catch him. If he blocked the swing, he would be stabbed.
He hurled himself forward into the narrow gap between the two, slashing Shoichi as he did. Shoichi managed to twist enough that the slash did not cut through his ribs. But as Inejiro turned to follow Okita's course, a spurt of blood from Shoichi's chest hit his eyes. He stumbled away, gasping. Okita turned as quickly as he could, his sandals sliding in the mud, and followed the man in blue. He slashed at Inejiro's legs and caught the front of his thighs, not deep enough to hit the muscle but sufficient to make him grunt in pain. Inejiro slashed back at Okita's chest. Okita ducked under it. Working beyond conscious thought, he jumped up as soon as the slash was past him. Another slash, from Shoichi behind him, passed below. The instant he landed he stabbed at Inejiro.
Inejiro's face was pained but he brought his sword around to parry the thrust to his right. Okita yanked his sword out of the way. Inejiro, expecting the swords to clash, was put slightly off balance and struggled against the pain in his legs to regain his footing.
Okita had already turned to Shoichi. He hammered him with blow after blow. The man in brown stepped back and defended, but a thrust got by him and hit his right biceps. He countered with a half-hearted slash at Okita's midsection. Okita blocked and slashed back, catching Shoichi's left forearm. The sword slipped from Shoichi's grasp. Okita stabbed him in the chest.
It was a fatal wound but Okita did not have time to make sure. He whirled just in time to block a savage blow from Inejiro. He heard Shoichi's body fall behind him and saw Inejiro's face twist in fury. Okita slashed at the man, who blocked cleanly and countered. Okita ducked under the slash but Inejiro changed directions in mid-swing. His sword came down at Okita, who had to dive to the right to avoid it. He rolled in the mud and came to his feet.
Inejiro was right on top of him, making wordless sounds of anger and grief as he slashed. Okita checked each blow until he saw an opening. He dodged a thrust and slashed at Inejiro's head. The man jerked away but the sword still sliced open his scalp. He stumbled as he tried to get away, and Okita thrust into his stomach.
Inejiro's sword fell from nerveless fingers. He dropped to his knees and blood came from his mouth. Okita quickly withdrew his sword and stabbed again, this time finding the heart. Inejiro stopped moving almost instantly. Okita withdrew his sword again, and the man fell back to the ground.
Okita breathed deeply for a moment, glancing up and down the street to make sure no other opponents were upon him. He could not see anyone. Though night had fully come, there was a full moon shining down on the street, wet with rain and blood.
He still had no idea why these men had attacked him. He took a cloth from a pocket and wiped his sword clean with it. His clothing was stained with mud, but that would have to wait. He sheathed his sword and stood regarding the brothers for a moment. He wondered if their master was worth dying for.
Then he remembered Saitou. The Captain of the Third Squad was still waiting for him. Unless he has been attacked, too, Okita thought. The twins had addressed him as "Shinsengumi," as if that were the reason they were wanted him dead. Others in the group might be targeted as he stood here.
He hurried on his way.
Saitou Hajime, Captain of the Third Squad of the Shinsengumi, sat alone drinking sake. He was a tall, slim young man. He wore the same blue and white haori jacket Okita did. His hair was mostly pulled back into a topknot, but several locks fell forward over his face and the white headband he wore. He was in a small room in the rear of a warehouse, on the second floor, used by the Shinsengumi for certain quiet meetings. Moonlight streamed through a window; he had not bothered to light a candle. He awaited Okita Souji, with whom he was to discuss the protection and transportation of two men, Abukara Yasujiro and Eguchi Toshio.
He heard the door slide open and looked, expecting Okita. Instead he saw a man he did not recognize.
The man was tall and powerfully built. He wore a sleeveless black shirt, tied with a tan sash, and tan kobakama trousers. He was barefoot. He had a tan strip of cloth tied around his head to hold back his long, unkempt hair. He had narrow eyes, and his mouth had an odd twist, halfway between a smile and an angry grimace, with clenched teeth.
In his right hand, leaning against his shoulder, was a large axe. The haft was almost six feet long and thick. There was a leather strip looping around the middle and covering about two feet of the length, forming a grip for the weapon. The head of the axe was wide and thick, and the blade was about a foot long.
Saitou stood and drew his sword. The man said, "You don't waste any time."
"It is clear you are here to kill me, or be killed. If you have anything to say before that, do it now."
"Well, I am here to kill you, that's true. But don't you want to know why?"
"If you want to tell me, go ahead, but make it fast."
The man's queer expression did not change. "You Shinsengumi... Abukara and Eguchi will not leave Kyoto alive. I guess we can leave it at that."
Saitou nodded once. "Who are you?"
"Kasaya Omezo."
Saitou nodded again and moved forward. Kasaya moved to meet him, taking the axe off his shoulder and holding it with both hands. When they were about four feet apart Kasaya attacked.
He swung from his right in a mighty arc. Saitou stepped back to avoid it and the axe cut only air. Kasaya brought the axe up high and spun it with both hands. Then it came around again in an identical right side attack. Saitou stepped back again. He wanted to draw Kasaya fully into the room, which was not large. There were a few crates lying around and the ceiling was low. In here, Kasaya would not have as much room to swing his large weapon. The plan was working; Kasaya was stepping forward as Saitou stepped back.
Kasaya again brought the axe around for a right side strike. Saitou could read his moves like a book. He wanted to drive Saitou until there was no room to back up, then cut him down. So this time Saitou did not back up. He came forward instead, inside the arc of the blade. He let go of his sword with his left hand, then caught the axe haft with it.
The axe halted immediately, too soon for it to be entirely due to Saitou's strength. Then it reversed directions before Saitou could let go. He was lifted from his feet and thrown behind Kasaya. He let go of the axe and stumbled into a crate to the left of the door. He got his footing back and turned just in time to see the axe coming at him. He ducked and the axe hit the wall behind him. A three-foot section to the left of the door shattered outward into the warehouse.
Saitou came in low, slashing at Kasaya. Kasaya got the axe haft down to block, and Saitou's strike did no more than cut the leather grip. Kasaya smashed downward with the axe head. Saitou jumped to the right to avoid it and stabbed back at Kasaya. Kasaya moved forward to dodge the thrust, which brought him back to the ruined doorway.
He turned as Saitou was coming at him again. Saitou slashed from his own left. Kasaya blocked with the top of the axe head and shoved straight forward with it. Saitou held his sword firmly and kept the axe at bay.
Then Kasaya lowered the haft of the axe and placed the end against the inside of his right foot, to his rear. He let go of the axe with his right hand, but his foot braced it. He reached and grabbed a crate behind him by the corner, then lifted and threw it at Saitou.
Saitou jumped back and left. The crate flew past him and Kasaya came at him again. Saitou was becoming angry. He moved to meet the man and threw a rapid succession of attacks. Kasaya checked them ably but had to step back several times. He did not appear to notice when Saitou drove him out the door.
Then, on one step back, he fell as the floor gave way to stairs. He tumbled down clumsily, his axe clanking and thumping against the stairs. Saitou waited until he was almost on the ground floor. Then he jumped.
He went forward and then began to descend, sailing over the stairs as if he was flying, his haori jacket swirling behind him. Kasaya landed in a heap and immediately got to his feet. He turned just as Saitou came down at him. Saitou stabbed as he landed. Kasaya, off balance, whipped his axe around in a desperate attempt to parry Saitou's thrust. It worked, but Saitou slashed again and again. Kasaya could not get proper footing, and an attack got by his defenses. Saitou slashed his chest.
It was a minor wound. Kasaya roared and counterattacked, swinging down with a powerful chop. Saitou jumped back to avoid it. Kasaya let go of the axe with his right hand. He wrapped his right arm around the haft of the axe, placing his fist against his stomach. With his left hand he gripped the axe head below the blade. He held it out between Saitou and himself.
Saitou watched this warily. "You use the Chuujitsu Soudou Axe-fighting Style?" he said.
Kasaya's eyes opened wide. "You know it? I think I may have underestimated you, Shinsengumi."
"You thought you could beat me. I would call that a gross error in judgment."
Kasaya's expression resembled a grimace more than a smile now. He came forward and jabbed at Saitou, using just his left hand, with the head of the axe. It was not a chop, but a blunt thrust. Saitou moved to the side and slashed, but Kasaya blocked easily. This went on for a few seconds as Saitou attacked and Kasaya blocked. His right arm held the haft of the axe in place as he used the head to block.
Then Kasaya released the haft with his arm. With his left hand on the head, he swung the haft around at Saitou's head, shouting, "Chuujitsu Soudou Style... Waikyoku!" Saitou ducked under the haft, but it immediately changed direction to come back, this time at his midsection. It moved more quickly than the head of the axe had. Saitou blocked. Kasaya pulled back a little, both hands on the head now, and jabbed with the end of the axe. Saitou parried the blow high and came in low. Kasaya tried to swing the haft straight down at him, but Saitou moved right and slashed a line of blood on his left arm.
Kasaya grunted and shifted his grip to the haft again, just below the head. He swung the head in a quick sideways slash. Saitou moved back out of range. As soon as the slash missed he stabbed.
His sword pierced the back of Kasaya's right hand and stuck in the wood of the axe haft. Kasaya roared and hurled himself away from Saitou. Saitou kept his grip on his sword and it tore out of Kasaya's hand. Kasaya went for the door and Saitou gave chase. The door was closed, but it did not slow Kasaya at all. He crashed through it and out into the street.
Saitou went after him. The moon was startlingly bright outside, and in the instant that distracted him Kasaya whirled and swung his axe in the same motion. Saitou ducked under it, but his sandal slipped in the mud and he went to one knee. Kasaya lifted the axe above Saitou and brought it down. Saitou rushed to the side to avoid it, then came back at Kasaya.
The axe wielder backed up warily. He took a deep breath and said, "Chuujitsu Soudou Style... Konranda!" He came forward and swung down and right at Saitou. Saitou blocked, but as the blades touched, Kasaya's shifted. The flat of the axe head thudded against Saitou's sword jarringly, forcing him to work to keep his grip. Kasaya pulled back to swing again, and Saitou saw that he did not correct the odd angle of the axe head. Again Saitou blocked, but the axe did not strike exactly where he thought it would and his balance was thrown off a bit.
As Kasaya pulled back again, Saitou saw that his grip of the haft of his axe was extremely loose. The axe rotated in his grasp with little resistance. It seemed at first a ludicrous method of attack, but Saitou saw through that. If even Kasaya did not control exactly how the axe behaved, it would be almost impossible for an opponent to predict it. The weight of the axe head could land anywhere or shift as it landed, and push through a block that was not in the right place. And as loose as Kasaya's grip was, Saitou knew he would clamp down on the haft like a vise if Saitou tried to take the axe away.
Kasaya swung again. Saitou took a quick step back. When the axe head was directly in front of him, he punched forward with both hands, still gripping the hilt of his sword. His fists slammed into the axe head painfully and shoved the axe back through Kasaya's loose grip. Kasaya looked surprised; he might have expected an opponent to try to yank the axe away, but he did not expect someone to push it toward him. Saitou came forward, following the axe. He went low and thrust downward.
His sword stabbed through Kasaya's foot and into the muddy street. Kasaya grunted in pain. Saitou let go of his sword. He grabbed Kasaya's axe head in his right hand and punched the man in the face with his left. Kasaya would have stumbled back if his foot had not been pinned down. As his foot pulled against the blade he screamed. Saitou yanked the axe away from him and threw it away. Then he pulled the sword out.
Kasaya fell back to sit in the mud. Saitou raised his sword. Kasaya, gasping with pain, said, "W-Wait! I'll tell you who sent me, I'll tell you why I tried to kill you!"
Saitou said, "I didn't care before. Why should I care now?"
He brought the sword down. Kasaya raised an arm to protect himself. The sword took his hand off at the wrist. Kasaya stared in horror at his arm until Saitou stabbed into his skull. Kasaya’s arms dropped instantly, and Saitou knew he was dead.
He pulled his sword free and wiped it on Kasaya's shirt. Just then he heard a noise behind him. He whirled and saw Okita running toward him.
The Captain of the First Squad stopped in front of him, breathing a little hard. "Saitou... are you all right?"
"Of course. Why were you running?"
Okita told him how he had been attacked by twin swordsmen. "They called me 'Shinsengumi,' so I thought others might have been targeted as well."
Saitou gestured at Kasaya's body. "That one called me 'Shinsengumi' as well. He died before he could tell me why he was attacking, but he said that Abukara and Eguchi would not leave Kyoto alive."
"We should check on them," said Okita.
Saitou nodded. "Your men are closer, at the shrine."
Okita and Saitou turned down a side street to approach the Sakubara Shrine. It was down a short footpath off the side street. It was here that ten men of the First Squad were guarding Abukara Yasujiro, a minor daimyo from the north who had fled to Kyoto for protection against the Imperialists.
Both Saitou and Okita drew their swords as they passed under the torii gate, which was gray in the moonlight. They passed the main building and walked down the flagstones to a smaller outlying shed, twenty feet by ten. Two men were at the door in the haori jackets of the Shinsengumi.
Their hands were on their swords as Okita and Saitou came near. When they recognized him, the one on the left, Aizawa, said, "Captain?"
Okita noticed that the men still had their hands on their swords, and realized it was because he and Saitou's swords were drawn. He sheathed his and heard Saitou do the same, at which point the guards visibly relaxed. "Is everything all right here?" said Okita.
"Yes, Captain," said Aizawa, bowing.
"Good. Keep your guard up." With that, he and Saitou entered the building.
There were nine men inside. Three were asleep in a corner. The rest were awake. Two of the men stood as Okita came in and walked over to him. They were Tanuma Juro and Inoguchi Toki, whom he had placed in charge of this protective detail. "Captain?" said Tanuma.
"Any problems?" said Okita.
"No, Captain, everything has been quiet."
"Captain Saitou and I ran into a little trouble, and it appears it may have been connected with Abukara and Eguchi. Stay alert."
"Yes, Captain," the two said in unison. They went off a short distance and spoke quietly for a moment. Okita allowed his men to use their own judgment on matters like this. Inoguchi went to speak to a couple of men, who went outside to augment the standing guards.
Satisfied, Okita went to the rear of the building. Abukara Yasujiro was there, seated in a corner. Okita thought he had looked broken when he arrived in Kyoto. He was even more wasted now. He was a small man of about sixty. His clothing was expensive but worn from travel. He sat and stared at the floor until Okita spoke. "Abukara-san," he said.
The man looked up then, his eyes lifeless. "Yes?"
"I trust you are comfortable."
"Yes."
"Good." Sarcasm crept into Okita's voice. "I wonder if you are acquainted with twin swordsmen named Hosokawa."
Abukara looked at him a moment before answering. "No."
"What about a man using an axe, called Kasaya?"
"No."
Saitou said, "Have you ever known anyone who used the axe-fighting style Chuujitsu Soudou?"
"No." Abukara was staring at the ground again.
Okita said, "These men attacked us, and hinted that you and Eguchi were the reason. You have no idea why this might have happened?"
"If... If they were Imperialists, they might want us dead. That is all I know."
Okita waited and stared at Abukara for a moment longer, hoping he would say more. When he did not, Okita said, "Thank you for your assistance, Abukara-san." Okita then turned and went outside.
Saitou followed him. The larger man said, "He's lying about something, but it seemed he really did not know the names of our attackers."
Okita thought about it. "I agree."
"My men?" Saitou asked. Okita nodded, and they went.
The men of the Third Squad were at a house sometimes used by the Shinsengumi. They were guarding Eguchi Toshio, another northern daimyo who had come south with Abukara. Saitou considered himself to have gotten the worse end of the assignment, and Okita had to agree. Abukara was quiet and undemanding, from fear it seemed. Eguchi was afraid, too, but he took it out on Saitou and his men. He complained about everything possible.
When Saitou and Okita got to the gate of the house, they stopped. Neither had sensed anything as yet, but all the same something put them on edge.
Saitou slid the gate open and they looked through. The moonlight illuminated the yard fully. There was nothing there. In the dimness of the porch, he could see two slumped bodies.
Saitou drew his sword again and advanced. Okita's light footfalls sounded behind him. They came up to the porch and saw the bodies of Chikanatsu and Fukao, two of Saitou’s men who had been on duty here. Both had savage wounds in their torsos, and there was blood everywhere.
The door was open. Saitou stepped through and froze. There were three more dead men from the Third Squad in the hallway. Saitou and Okita went down the hall to the room where Eguchi had been.
The slaughter here was far worse than outside. There were six dead men and more blood than Saitou had ever seen in such a confined space. Two of the men were seated leaning against the wall to the right, with slashes across their chests. Two more were in the center of the floor, whatever wounds they had beneath them and great pools of red around them on the floor. One man, Hasekawa, was pinned to a thick support beam with a katana, his feet dangling above the floor and more blood slowly dripping from the sword and his sandals. In the far side of the room was Eguchi.
Saitou went over to him. He was seated in a corner, his legs splayed outward. He had been younger than Abukara, around forty, with black hair and clothing just as expensive as the other refugee's. Now his head was on the floor between his legs. Saitou looked above him. In both the walls that met at that corner, there was a horizontal slash. There was so much blood between the slashes that it was obvious what had happened. Eguchi's head had been severed here, and his body had remained standing for a few seconds as blood shot from his neck. Finally, his feet slid outward and his body lowered to the ground.
Anger raged within Saitou. He was angry that his men had failed, and angry that they were dead. He was angry at Eguchi and Abukara for making this death necessary. He forced down the fury and looked around the room, trying to find some clue how this had happened. His eyes fell on Hasekawa, hanging from the sword stuck in his chest. Saitou looked at the ground and realized there was no other sword near him. If the sword in his chest was the enemy's, where was Hasekawa's?
Then he realized the sword was Hasekawa's. He tried to conceive how such a thing could be possible, but Okita's voice cut through his reverie.
"Saitou?" the other Captain said.
Saitou looked back at him. He was studying the two men side-by-side near the wall. Saitou went over and got a good look at their faces. "Kuga and Shigi," he said.
"Look at their wounds," said Okita.
Saitou did so. "They were both killed by sideways slashes," he said. "What of it?"
"Shigi was taller?" Okita asked.
"Yes," Saitou said slowly.
Okita could tell by his tone that he understood. Even so Okita hesitated to say it. At last he said, "I think these may have been caused by the same sword stroke."
They both needed a moment to digest it. Then, both reaching the same conclusion at the same time, they looked around the room at the other bodies. Okita spoke again. "You don't suppose one man did all this, do you?"
Saitou said, "I don't see how. He would have had to kill the two men outside before anyone could get to them, and the three in the hall just as fast. The others couldn't even get out of the room. That kind of strength..."
"Abukara and Eguchi said they were afraid of the Imperialists..."
"Battousai," Saitou said with bitter finality.
Okita considered it. "We don't even know that it was one man. None of these looks like an axe wound, but the twins I fought could have come here first."
"You think they were skilled enough to do this?"
"No," Okita conceded. "Not by themselves. But I also do not know that Himura could have done this." He gestured at the bodies of Kuga and Shigi.
"His battoujutsu is strong enough."
Okita studied the bodies. "But look at the blood splatter. It goes left; battoujutsu attacks go to the right."
"I don't know how he did it, but this must be the work of the Battousai!" Saitou exploded. "He is the only Imperialist strong enough!" With that he whirled and went for the door.
"Where are you going?" Okita asked.
"To find him!" Saitou barked.
Okita remained, looking down at the bodies and pondering.
Outside, Saitou stopped in the yard and looked up at the moon. He knew that to face the Battousai he had to be in top form. He could not allow anger to take control.
He breathed deeply for a moment. When he felt calmer, he thought about his next step. How was he to find the Battousai?
When it came to him, he went out to the street.
When Okita got outside, after studying the dead men for a little longer, Saitou was gone. He wished the other captain had remained. He was not at all convinced that the Battousai had killed the men, though he admitted he did not know who else could have had the skill. He needed more information.
He started walking. His mind began to wander, and he tried to imagine how Saitou’s men had been killed. He pictured the swordsman, manufacturing an image to go with the scene. It was not the Battousai, but Okita was surprised at the clarity with which this phantom killer appeared in his mind.
The man was not tall and not especially broad. He wore a dark brown robe, stained by sweat at the armpits. It was belted with a sash that would have been white but for the dirt that caked it. His hair was cropped short except for a small topknot. He had a light dusting of beard and mustache. His face was rather flat, and dark from long hours spent in the sun. A cheap katana that had seen obvious use hung at his side.
At first Okita did not know who the man was. Then a tide of memory washed over him, so powerful that he had to stop on the deserted road to sort through it all.
He did know the man, or at least he had seen him. Okita had been a child, no more than seven. He and his father had stopped at a roadside restaurant. The man had come in while they ate. Okita had not spoken to him, and the man stayed only long enough to eat a small bowl of rice. But in that short span he had made an impression on Okita. It was the first time he had seen a true warrior. He had seen the samurai, with their beautiful armor and myriad attendants. This man had been different. There was a quality to his presence that went far beyond his grubby appearance. Years later Okita would come to know this presence as the fighting spirit, and to have that presence himself. As a child, though, he only had a vague sense of the danger that surrounded the man. Okita had not thought about him in years. But whoever he had been, the man was one of several fighters who had influenced, in one way or another, Okita's decision to learn the sword.
Okita started walking again and came to the Sakubara shrine. He drew his sword and went to the rear building. As there had been when he and Saitou left, four men stood at the door. He sheathed his sword, quickly exchanged bows with the men, and went inside.
Tanuma and Inoguchi came to him immediately. "Things have taken a turn for the worse," Okita told them. "The men of the Third Squad were attacked. They are all dead, as is Eguchi."
"Captain Saitou?" Inoguchi asked, with clear shock on his face.
"He is convinced the manslayer Battousai is the culprit, and has gone to kill him."
He let the two absorb everything. Then Tanuma said, "Do you have orders, Captain?"
"I need more information. Until I get it, I want everyone awake and alert. If anyone suspicious comes around... kill them immediately."
"Yes, Sir!" both men said in unison. They went to wake the sleeping guards.
Okita went back to Abukara. The man was still awake, though he could not possibly look more tired. He did not even look up when Okita stopped in front of him. Okita waited a moment, then said, "You're not afraid of the Imperialists." Abukara looked up then. Okita said, "Or rather, the Imperialists are not who you're afraid of." Abukara sighed but did not respond. Okita kneeled. "Who is it, Abukara? Who is trying to kill you?"
After a long time, Abukara said, "Jippensha Chomei."
Okita did not recognize the name. "Who is that?"
"He is the son of a man, Jippensha Gonkuro, who was in my service some years back. Gonkuro was a good samurai, but... Eguchi and his family came to my castle for a visit. Gonkuro seduced Eguchi's sister. Eguchi was furious and demanded that Gonkuro be put to death, along with his son, Jippensha. Gonkuro's wife had been dead for years. Chomei was about ten then, and would be around thirty now. At any rate, Gonkuro was killed but Chomei escaped. We thought he had probably died, since he had been cut very badly on the face by one of Eguchi's men. He had no resources. But somehow he survived. And he learned to fight. He came to Eguchi's castle about a month ago. He went right up to the gate, announced himself, and fought his way in alone. I don't know how many men he killed that day. Eguchi managed to escape and came to me. I sent word to some allies and closed the castle up tight, but Chomei had already bribed someone, I never did find out who, to let him in. He killed forty or so in my castle before Eguchi and I got away."
He fell silent then. He looked pained, but not nearly pained enough, to Okita's mind. "He killed dozens of people in your service and you ran."
Abukara gave him a sharp look. "What could we do?! He was unstoppable!"
"What style does he use?" Okita said, thinking of the strange deaths of the Third Squad.
"I don't know.”
"What about these men, the twin swordsmen and the axe wielder?"
"I don't know them, I told you."
"And does he have any more soldiers working for him?"
"I don't know."
"So the only information of real value you can tell me is his name?" Okita was getting angry. Abukara did not answer, just stared at the floor despondently.
Okita, disgusted, stood and went outside after a brief word with Tanuma and Inoguchi. He stood in the cold moonlight for a moment. Abukara had told him one other thing, at least; one man could indeed have killed Saitou's men. But what kind of swordsmanship... He went out to the street again. As he had told Tanuma and Inoguchi, he needed more information.
Saitou Hajime stood before the Blue Crane, a bar near the river.
He had been here once before, as he had been in most bars in the city at least once. He had not come back to this one again, though. There was an air to the place, a way that the people looked at him as he drank his sake. He had known then that some of the men inside were Imperialists, though nothing overt had occurred. They knew who he was, and they did not like him being there.
He had no true evidence of anything, or the Shinsengumi would have raided the place long ago. But he trusted his gut, and went inside.
It was not a large place. There were only six tables. The small candles burning at three of the tables provided less light than the moon shining through the windows. Two men sat at separate tables, and a server stood to one side. The three men looked up as Saitou came in, and despite their blank faces he sensed just the slightest malice from them.
He said, "I am looking for the manslayer Battousai. I will wait for him on the bridge."
Nothing more was necessary. He turned and went out the door. The bridge over the Kamogawa River was to his left. He went over to it and stood in the middle, looking down at the swirling waters below. The river was bloated and fast from the rains. It was probably brown from stirred-up mud, but the moonlight did not reveal it.
Okita stood before the door and called out, "Hello? Tatenaka-san?"
He heard a noise inside and waited. He was in the row houses, and all around him was quiet. In earlier years someone might have complained about the noise, but not now.
A moment went by and the door opened. Inside was only black, but a voice said, "Okita-kun?"
"I need to speak with you, Tatenaka-san."
There came a heavy sigh. "Come in."
Okita went through the doorway and shut the door behind him. A moment later a lamp was lit.
Tatenaka was an old man, well past seventy, and with his bent back he was shorter than Okita. He still had a full head of white hair. He wore a simple sleeping robe. His eyes were bloodshot and he seemed to struggle to keep them open. He gestured for Okita to sit on the raised section of the room, and sat facing him.
"I need information, Tatenaka-san. About swordsmanship."
Tatenaka would have known that, of course. He was knowledgeable about virtually all forms of kenjutsu. "What is it?" he asked.
"Some men were killed, and I think it might have been one man who did it. He would have to be very skilled, but I cannot recognize the style from the bodies. I was hoping you could tell me."
"How were they killed?" Okita described the bodies of Saitou's men. He said that Kuga and Shigi were side-by-side and both killed by horizontal strikes, but did not mention that he thought the same cut made both wounds. When he was done, Tatenaka looked strangely grim. Okita was about to ask him if he knew the style when the old man said, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style."
Okita searched his memory. "I've never heard of that style."
"Most haven't," Tatenaka replied. "Or if they have they think it is a myth."
"What can you tell me about it?"
"It is a powerful style, one of the most powerful." He took a deep breath and let it out. "The attacks of the style revolve around a philosophy called 'Kanzen Kou.' With other styles of kenjutsu, an attack is focused at one point. Movement before that is acceleration, and if the attack misses the movement after that is deceleration. You know this." Okita nodded. "With the philosophy of Kanzen Kou an attack is deadly at every point along the arc it travels. It... takes enormous strength to master this. The two men who were killed with the same strike... That was most likely the Sekiha attack. It's a basic horizontal strike from the right. But with Kanzen Kou, it becomes possible to kill two men with just one strike. It is for this reason that some have taken to calling the style 'Nisatsu Style.'"
Okita said, "Wait, I think I have heard of that. But I thought..." He smiled. "I thought it was just a legend. A story about Uji, the third battle, I believe. Someone in the Hojo army..."
Tatenaka nodded. "The warrior Umari Keita was said to have used Shinsei Ketsushu. The Hojos won, of course."
They were quiet for a moment. Then Tatenaka said, "As strong as the Sekiha attack is said to be, the Sekibi attack is stronger. It is a diagonal strike from the upper right. With the Kanzen Kou principle it has the power to kill or cripple at every point in its arc. If it strikes the head at the top of the arc, it kills. In the middle of the arc it strikes either the arm or body, which will incapacitate or kill. And it retains enough power at the bottom of the arc to cut through a leg, crippling the opponent."
A sense of dread was slowly coming over Okita. He said, "I think I'm beginning to understand why this style is considered to be so deadly."
"I don't think you are," said Tatenaka gravely. Okita gave him a questioning look. "It is rumored that the true strength of the style lies not in its attacks but in its defensive techniques."
Okita waited for him to say more. When he did not Okita said, "What are the defensive techniques?"
"No one knows." Okita made a grunt of exasperation. "I'm sorry," Tatenaka went on. "I would tell you if I could. But the style is so rare, so few can master it..."
Okita sat quietly for a moment, pondering. Then he stood. "I have to get back to my men."
He started for the door. Tatenaka said, "Be careful, Okita-kun."
Saitou did not know how long he waited. There was no sound except for the rushing waters below him, and no light but that which the moon provided. But somehow, without raising his eyes from the river, he knew someone had come.
He looked over at one end of the bridge and saw him. The Battousai was a small man, possibly no more than fifteen. He had reddish hair, though the moonlight did not reveal color. He wore a dark kimono and lighter hakama pants. Saitou could just make out the cross-shaped scar on his cheek.
Saitou had been leaning on the railing of the bridge but now moved off it. He faced the Battousai, and no words were spoken. Saitou drew his sword and held it with his left hand, parallel to the bridge's surface and pointing at his enemy.
The Battousai crouched about two feet onto the bridge, his hand hovering near the hilt of his own sword. Then Saitou came forward. He moved with practiced fluidity, running towards the Battousai even as his sword thrust forward. He moved with such power that he could feel boards beneath his feet cracking, but he was so fast he was beyond them before they could fully give way. This was the Gatotsu, his most powerful attack, and he was in rare form tonight. He needed to be against this opponent.
As the sword closed on the Battousai, the Imperialist killer drew his own sword. In the same motion he brought the sword up, sweeping Saitou's blade aside. Saitou skidded to a halt and grabbed the hilt of his own sword with his right hand so his thumbs were together. He used both hands to push to his right, against the Battousai's sword.
The Battousai, as strong as he was, was too small and light to resist and he knew it. He allowed Saitou's blade to push him to his left, concentrating on keeping his balance. Suddenly he hopped upwards, and the force of Saitou's strength carried him up onto the bridge's railing. He jumped up from there, shouting, "Hiten Mitsurugi Style... Ryu Tsui Sen!"
The Battousai brought his sword above his head and, as he came down at Saitou, swung the sword down again. Saitou danced to the side. Chips of wood were tossed into the air as the Battousai's sword crashed down. Saitou slashed at him and felt the sword hit. The Battousai rolled away and came to his feet. Saitou saw the light slash on the side of the killer's chest but waited, sensing that the Battousai was far from helpless.
The Battousai turned to face him. After that initial burst of activity there was a pause. Still, though, they said nothing.
The Battousai came forward, swinging his sword from the upper right. Saitou blocked and countered with a thrust at his face. The Battousai ducked under it and slashed at Saitou's midsection. Saitou yanked his hips backwards but still got a light cut on his stomach. The Battousai pressed, coming straight at Saitou and slashing over and over. Saitou blocked these and aimed return strikes, which the Battousai blocked and parried.
This went on for some time. After a while Saitou began to understand that he would not get through the Battousai's defenses under normal circumstances. One of the sources of power of those who used the Hiten Mitsurugi Style was their ability to predict an opponent’s actions. Saitou had to do something the Battousai would not predict.
He aimed a powerful slash at the Battousai's midsection. The Battousai raised his sword to block. The instant before their swords touched, Saitou let go of his. The blade glanced off the Battousai's harmlessly, and the Battousai, braced for a stronger impact, was put off balance slightly. That was all Saitou needed. He punched the Battousai in the face and followed it up with a fierce blow to the stomach. The Battousai was thrown back against the railing of the bridge. Saitou scooped up his sword and slashed downward at his enemy.
The Battousai vanished. Saitou's blade chopped through the rail where he had been. Saitou was well acquainted with the speed of the manslayer. He let go of his sword with his right hand and ripped a piece of the broken railing free. He spun right and swung the railing, which was a good five feet long. The Battousai was coming up behind him but was unprepared for this. The railing slammed into his shoulder, making him skid across the boards, but Saitou knew that would not be enough. He dropped the railing, lifted his sword with just his left hand, and surged forward in another Gatotsu.
This time the Battousai did the unexpected. As Saitou's blade reached toward him, he parried it high with his own sword held in just his right hand. Then he grabbed Saitou's outstretched wrist with his left hand and, with blinding speed, slashed Saitou's midsection.
The cut did not disembowel Saitou but it was still very bad. Marshalling his strength, he yanked upwards with his left arm. The Battousai, still clutching that wrist, went into the air too. Saitou's right fist slammed into the Battousai's chest with overpowering force. The Battousai lost his grip on Saitou's wrist and shot backward to slam into the railing again. Saitou uttered an almost feral roar and went into another Gatotsu. This time the Battousai was not ready, and Saitou's blade stabbed deep into his right shoulder.
The Battousai's face revealed his pain, but he did not pause. He twisted his upper body to the right, pulling Saitou's blade away from him. Saitou just managed to keep his grip until the Battousai slammed the hilt of his own blade into Saitou's hand. Saitou's sword slipped from his fingers and the impact jarred the sword loose from the Battousai's shoulder. It clattered onto the bridge, but too far away for Saitou to quickly reach it.
The Battousai raised his blade and brought it swiftly down. Saitou was off-balance, too close, and beginning to feel cold from the loss of blood. He could not avoid the Battousai's strike. He reached up and caught the blade. If the Battousai had been at full strength this would have taken Saitou's hands off, and it still bit deep into his palms. Saitou, fighting to ignore the pain, held on to the blade with his left hand and reared back to punch the Battousai in the face with his right.
The Battousai stumbled backwards and fell, and Saitou fell with him. As he did, the stress on the floorboards of the bridge finally became too great. The boards collapsed beneath him and he fell into the darkness below. His chest slammed into a crossbeam on the way down, which set him spinning so fast he could not tell which way was up.
He crashed into the water on his back and knew true darkness then. The chilly water only intensified the numbness creeping over him from his wounds. Water went into his nostrils and he fought to find the surface. He was vaguely aware that he was moving downstream.
At last he reached the surface and breathed deep gulps of air. He saw the way the current was carrying him and looked back. He could see the Battousai on the bridge, but could not make out what he was doing.
Then something flashed above the Battousai in the moonlight. It was a sword. It flew high into the air. Saitou quickly figured its trajectory and his own speed and realized the sword would come down on him. He's trying to impale me with his sword while I'm helpless in the water! he thought. Bastard!
Then, with the perceptions born of a thousand nighttime battles, Saitou realized it was not the Battousai's sword in the air; it was his own. It turned as it soared above so the hilt led the way. As it came down, Saitou, struggling to stay afloat, reached up and caught it.
He looked back at the bridge. He could just barely make out the Battousai's form, but if there was any explanation to be read on his scarred features, Saitou was too far away to perceive it.
With supreme effort he fought the river and slowly dragged himself toward the shore as the current carried him along. He grabbed a large rock and pulled himself up out of the water. He lay on the shore, breathing hard, for a few minutes. Then he sat up. He tore strips off his blue and white haori jacket and used them to bind the wounds he had gotten in the fight.
When that was done he thought about what had happened. He was no longer convinced the Battousai had killed his men, and he was in no shape to continue the fight. The Battousai might be long gone anyway. He wondered where Okita was, and wearily began to walk to the Sakubara shrine.
Okita was underneath the torii gate when he heard the sounds of swords clashing and men screaming in pain. He broke into a run and rushed back to the rear building.
By the time he got there nine men were dead on the ground. Abukara was alive, cowering against the building and looking at two other men. One had his back to Okita. The other was Tanuma Juro. He was on his knees and clutching at his chest with his left hand. Blood was spreading from beneath his hand. He clutched his sword in his right hand and looked with pain and malice up at the man standing above him. The standing man raised his sword.
"Jippensha Chomei!" Okita shouted.
Jippensha slowly lowered his sword and turned to face Okita, and the moonlight revealed him. He was a tall man, straight and proud. His clothing was impeccably arranged; he wore a light kimono and dark hakama pants, though Okita could not be sure of their color. There were dark bloodstains all over his clothes. His hair appeared gray and was cropped very short. Abukara had said he was about thirty, but he looked a bit older than that. His face might have been handsome but for the jagged, terrible scar that ran from the middle of his hairline down between his eyes and to the left of his nose and mouth, ending at the jaw line.
For a brief, quiet moment as he and Jippensha sized each other up, Okita could not help comparing him to the grubby swordsman from his youth. They could hardly have been more different in appearance, but the feeling of menace that radiated from them both was the same.
Okita said, "That is as far as I can allow you to go, Jippensha-san. I understand that this man has wronged you, but I cannot allow my men to be slaughtered any longer."
Jippensha regarded him. In a voice that almost sounded weary he said, "You are free to try and stop me, but no amount of talking will dissuade me from what I must do."
Okita saw the truth in the words. He glanced at Tanuma, the only man from the guard detail still alive. He did not look good. Okita took a deep breath, calmed himself, and moved forward.
Jippensha came to meet him. Okita slashed down and left. Jippensha blocked it and slashed at the front of Okita's left thigh. Okita tried to get his sword down to block but was not fast enough. He jerked his leg back in time to get only a light cut. He stabbed at Jippensha, who parried to his left and counterattacked with a downward cut. Again Okita was unable to get his sword up in time. He leaned back and got another small slash. He aimed a vicious cut at Jippensha's head. Jippensha blocked and slashed at Okita's midsection. Okita could not get his sword down fast enough to block, and was cut again.
He jumped back, breathing hard and gritting his teeth against the pain. Something was very wrong here. Jippensha did not seem to move more quickly than any other swordsman of exceptional skill. But somehow Okita seemed to be powerless against his attacks, almost as if he were moving more slowly than normal. In three exchanges, he had been cut three times and failed to hit Jippensha even once. He had never been so outclassed by another swordsman. He had to try harder.
Jippensha watched him with eyes that were wary but unconcerned. Okita thought there was a strange fatalism there, as if he took no particular pleasure from the course he was on but had no ability to turn away.
Okita came forward again. He decided to try something different, and just before he got to Jippensha he jumped to the other swordsman's left side, turning a little in the air so he landed facing him. He slashed at Jippensha's back. Jippensha whirled and blocked, then slashed Okita's left arm. Okita brought his sword up and right. Jippensha blocked, and this time Okita saw something in the other's technique. Jippensha slashed at his left shoulder. Okita hurled himself away, taking a small cut in the process.
Okita was bleeding and in pain, but at last he had discovered the reason his defenses were off. Each time he attacked, Jippensha blocked and counterattacked. Okita's blocks were off because when their swords clashed, Jippensha gave his blade just the slightest twist. This twist propelled Okita's blade, subtly but powerfully, away from the area at which Jippensha's counter-strike would aim. When Okita tried to block, he had to work against this misdirection, and he could not move his sword quickly enough. He had never heard of such a technique and was amazed at the level of forethought that the technique must require.
He moved forward again, warily. Okita waited for Jippensha to make the first move. The other swordsman slashed sideways. Okita blocked with his sword pointed up. It was the first time he had done so since the fight started and he was shocked by the power behind the blow. It appeared that the philosophy of Kanzen Kou did not merely make the strike deadly all along its arc, but also strengthened the attacks. There was no twist when their swords clashed so he countered with a stab at Jippensha's midsection. Jippensha parried it to his own left, and Okita felt the slightest upward pressure from Jippensha's blade. When their swords separated Okita strained to propel his own in a block to his lower left.
Their swords thundered together as Okita's block succeeded. Dust on the flagstones on which they stood was stirred by the impact, and Okita had to struggle to keep Jippensha's blade at bay.
Then their swords flashed apart. Okita was so surprised that he had succeeded he almost forgot to follow up, but he swung his blade quickly at Jippensha's head.
They stood hammering at each other. It seemed endless to Okita, and his arms gradually went numb from the dreadful impact of the Kanzen Kou attacks. But he was holding his own; Jippensha could no more get through his defenses than he could penetrate Jippensha's.
They broke apart as one, jumping away from each other to catch their breath while still watching the other like a hawk. Jippensha said, "Very impressive, Shinsengumi. Not one warrior in a hundred can counter even the basic techniques of the Shinsei Ketsushu Style."
Okita had, indeed, seen the way to neutralize the deadly mechanism of counterattack Jippensha employed. The twist Jippensha gave his sword after impact was telling; it gave Okita a clue as to which direction the next attack would come from. Knowing this, Okita could move to block before the strike began.
But he could do no more than this. He knew where the attacks would come but his blade still felt too sluggish to do anything but block. He had to find some way...
Jippensha moved forward again. He stabbed at Okita's chest. Okita parried it left and slashed from the right. Jippensha's sword streaked over and blocked. Okita felt Jippensha's sword push his own low. He whipped his sword back up and blocked a downward blow, and for a terrifying instant his knees started to buckle from the power of Jippensha's strike. He braced himself and shoved Jippensha's sword away. He slashed from the lower left. Jippensha blocked and pushed Okita's blade back left again. Okita rushed his sword to the right to block Jippensha's, which came in horizontally.
When the swords clashed Jippensha pushed even harder than was normal for the Kanzen Kou technique. Okita could not keep Jippensha's sword at bay so he stepped back a little. Jippensha's sword pushed Okita's further left, then circled downward. Okita could not seem to stop it from happening. Jippensha's blade pushed Okita's until Okita's was pointed straight down. Okita's hands had become twisted so that his left wrist was above his right. Jippensha shouted, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Ginrin!" At the same time and with blinding speed he whipped his sword around. The blade came around from Okita's right and slammed into the pommel of Okita's sword. Okita's arms were already twisted, and the impact pushed him too far. His sword was knocked from his grasp.
As the blade fell Jippensha readied himself for a strike at Okita's unprotected chest. Okita stuck out his right foot and hopped backwards at the same time. His foot caught his sword in the center of the blade and was pulled along as Jippensha's sword cut the air where he had been. He lifted his foot, reached down, and grabbed the hilt of his sword as he touched down on the ground on his left foot. Jippensha was rushing forward to strike, but slowed when he saw Okita's blade come up again defensively.
Unnoticed by either combatant, Saitou Hajime limped onto the shrine grounds. He went back to the rear building and saw what unfolded there, but with the wounds he had gotten in his own battle, he was powerless to interfere.
Jippensha Chomei and Okita Souji came together again. Okita slashed from the upper left; Jippensha counterattacked from the right. The moonlight blazed off their swords as the two men strove against each other, struggling, searching for an opening, testing the depths of the other's skill as few men ever had before.
Then Okita saw a chance. He had blocked an attack from Jippensha from the right, and for the merest instant Jippensha seemed to slow. Okita seized the opportunity and swung from the left.
Jippensha blocked with his sword pointing down. Okita saw that the very tip of his own sword had collided with Jippensha's near the crosspiece. Jippensha shouted, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Gin Gekimyou!" He shoved outward, drawing his sword along Okita's blade, with astonishing force. It was all Okita could do to hold onto the sword; he knew that if he let go he was finished. But his sword was being propelled behind him and he could not stop it. He was forced to turn his back to Jippensha just to keep his grip.
When he was facing the other direction he rushed away as quickly as he could. It was not quick enough. He heard Jippensha shout, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Sekiha!" There came hideous pain as Jippensha's sword slashed straight across Okita's back. He could actually feel the sword scrape his shoulder blades. A scream escaped him and his legs gave way.
But he could not fall. With furious determination he threw himself into a forward roll. As his back touched the flagstones there was an inferno of pain so intense it brought tears to his eyes. He drew his thoughts away from it and came to his feet, spinning to face Jippensha before the other man could end it.
But Jippensha was several feet away, not pursuing. He watched Okita with eyes that were almost melancholy. He said, "Stand aside, Shinsengumi. You have fought bravely and with singular skill. But defeat and death are certain if this continues."
The pain in his back was so great Okita had to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from shaking. Cold sweat had broken out all over him and fatigue had almost completely overtaken the muscles in his arms and legs. He shook his head. "It is impossible for the Shinsengumi to retreat from the enemy."
Jippensha stood still a moment more, then slowly walked forward. Okita fought the growing exhaustion and came to meet him.
Okita's sword came at Jippensha's left. Jippensha blocked and forced Okita's sword high. Okita pulled his sword down in time to stop Jippensha's upwards thrust. He countered at Jippensha's right. Again Jippensha blocked the strike very near the hilt of his sword, and again he shouted, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Gin Gekimyou!" Okita's sword nearly exploded outward and away from Jippensha. Okita, holding tight to the sword, felt himself spinning to the left again so that his back was to Jippensha. He very quickly flipped his sword so that it pointed downward out of his hands, then used the centrifugal force of the Gin Gekimyou to stab underneath his left arm, back at Jippensha.
His sword bit deep. He heard Jippensha gasp and sensed him hurl himself away. Okita spun back around, ready to defend.
Jippensha clutched at the left side of his stomach with his left hand. There was a growing circle of blood around his hand. He looked in amazement at Okita. Okita hoped it hurt as much as his own back did; otherwise defeat might be inevitable.
Jippensha said, "My face was slashed by the men who murdered my father when I was ten years old. My teacher wounded me when we trained. But I have not been wounded in real battle my whole life. No one has been skilled enough." He looked at Okita with hard respect. "You are far better than I expected, Shinsengumi. I see now that I should never have sent the Hosokawas against you." His eyes traveled over Okita's body. "They did not even wound you, did they?"
Okita shook his head. Jippensha let go of his stomach and straightened. He gripped his sword in both hands and advanced. Okita came to meet him. Jippensha raised his sword above his head; Okita brought his sword up horizontally, pointed left, to block. Okita's knees shook as the swords slammed together.
The taller Jippensha continued to press down on his sword and Okita felt the last of his strength slowly drain from his body. Suddenly Jippensha whipped his sword to the right, then shoved downward with even more power. This pushed Okita's blade downward and forced his arms to twist around each other. It was identical to the Ginrin technique he had used earlier, but he shouted, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Daigin Horyo!"
Okita's sword was pointed straight down. Jippensha's sword flashed upward, then straight down. It crashed into the pommel of Okita's sword, hammering it downward. Okita had no strength to prevent it. His sword pierced the flagstones at their feet. Okita gave it a panicked tug, but it was stuck fast.
Jippensha's sword came at Okita's head. Okita yanked his wakizashi from his belt and blocked somewhat clumsily. The wakizashi was the short sword that, together with the longer katana, formed the daishou, the symbol of the samurai. The wakizashi was all he had to defend himself with now. Attack was all but impossible, given that Jippensha still had his katana.
Jippensha knew it, too. A small, cruel smile came across his features, the first overt emotion he had displayed. He hammered at Okita and Okita had little choice but to step back.
The situation was not entirely bleak, though, and as they fought Okita said, "It seems the misdirecting techniques of your Shinsei Ketsushu Style are not so effective against a wakizashi." It was not merely a boast. Okita was able to wield the sword much more quickly than the katana.
Jippensha said, "It matters not. You will never be able to penetrate my defenses with that. And it is only a matter of time before your wounds will overtake you."
He aimed a vicious downward slash at Okita and Okita leapt to the side to avoid it. The instant he landed he stabbed back at Jippensha, but Jippensha, seeming not to notice his wound at all, parried easily. Jippensha slashed back at him, and while Okita was able to block Jippensha's strength made him step back again. As he did so his right foot came into contact with something. He could not help but glance down and saw one of his men, dead and facedown on the ground. He also saw the man's sword, and a wild, desperate hope came to him. If he could get the sword...
In the tiny instant that Okita's eyes were averted Jippensha slashed him across the underside of both forearms. Okita gave a choked gasp and hurled himself away. He found himself in the trees that covered much of the shrine grounds. Jippensha came after him, saying, "Don't even think about trying to get another sword, Shinsengumi! If you let your defenses down for one second you are a dead man!"
Okita's teeth were clenched so hard he nearly snarled back. He had lost track of most of his wounds; they all blended together to create a crushing agony throughout his body. Only the slash across his back stood out, and even that was not by much. He continued blocking Jippensha's strikes, which only seemed to get more powerful. That was not actually the case, of course. Okita was getting weaker. He sidestepped through the trees as he defended, using them to shield him as best he could.
He said, "You're a monster, Jippensha. How many dozens of men have you killed for the sins of those two?"
"Shut up," Jippensha said.
"Five? Six? More? How many is enough? All my men, all Saitou's, all to get at two men... Or is it two?"
"Shut UP!"
Okita smiled. "It isn't two, is it? It's three. But one of them was killed the same day you were disfigured." Jippensha's face was growing angrier. "Don't you want revenge on your father, too? He was the one who started it all." As Okita sidestepped he came out of the trees again, and Jippensha followed. "You were punished for his transgression. But he's out of your reach. You can never tell him how much you hate him, how much you blame him for what he did to you. Unless, of course, there is a hell."
"SHUT UP!" Jippensha roared. He swung a savage left-to-right slash at Okita, but Okita ducked under it. As soon as the sword had passed over Okita, Jippensha brought it up over his right shoulder. He shouted, "Shinsei Ketsushu Style... Sekibi!"
Saitou fell silent then. Eiji waited a moment, then said, "Saitou-san? What happened? Did Okita-san... die?"
"No," Saitou said. "Okita... The old man had told him about the Sekibi, the diagonal slash from the upper right. It killed or crippled no matter where it struck. Okita jumped back to avoid it completely. At the bottom of the attack arc it struck the flagstones at their feet... right next to Okita's katana. I hadn't realized it, and neither had Jippensha. When Okita was backing away from Jippensha he had circled around, without looking where he was going, all the way back to his sword. The Sekibi attack shattered the flagstone the sword was stuck in. That was when Jippensha noticed the sword again, but by then it was too late for him. Okita pulled the sword out of the ground with a speed I'd never seen before, not even from the Battousai. He didn't do anything fancy. He just brought the sword up. It slit open the side of Jippensha's throat as it went. Blood sprayed out like a geyser. Jippensha just stood there for a second, then crumpled to the ground."
They were both quiet for a moment. Eiji said, "Wait... Didn't you say this Jippensha was the strongest fighter you ever saw?"
Saitou looked at him dubiously. "I didn't say that. I said he was like a nightmare, and he was. I never even imagined a style as strong as his Shinsei Ketsushu, and to master it, as he had, took power that few men could even understand. But Okita was a match for him. His strength and speed and skill, and the way he fought on through the pain of his wounds... He was truly the greatest swordsman I have ever known."
"What happened to Abukara?"
"He went on to wherever it was the Shogun wanted him. I don't know what became of him after the war."
"And Okita-san?"
Saitou shook his head. "He died in a hospital, from his tuberculosis. Some enemies are too great for any swordsman."
They did not spar any more that day, just watched the sun slowly sink and sky turn orange. After that, they went inside.