damned_institute | Nightshift 35: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

Leaving the pen stuck in Sano's side, Okita stepped back and opened his stance, putting a hand to his sword. No, it wasn't going to do him any good. Nothing Okita ever did here did Hijikata any good. Giving him information, helping him, teasing him - none of it did anything but cause him to disappear again. "Nothing will ever make it better."

Hijikata had returned home only to die where Okita couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. Even if he hadn't and he'd been taken and brainwashed, wasn't that worse? Okita knew he was acting irrationally, which only made him worse when Sano called him on it. It was easier to be a demon here than be a human. At night was when the demons came to play, so why not him as well?

And then an interloper from the side - Kenshin appeared and started shouting, sword drawn.

Kenshin had his sword drawn.

Okita smiled mirthlessly and pulled his out, slipping one foot back as he trained his gaze on the rurouni. It was time for the demons to play. "Don't draw your sword unless you mean to use it, Himura-san."

"No shit." Sanosuke knew just how true it was, saying nothing would ever make it better. But that didn't mean there wasn't still shit to do. Escaping from here, and hell, seeing if there was a way to save Hijikata and the other people who had vanished. Maybe it wouldn't do a damn bit of good for them in the long run, or maybe it would fuck up history. But it was fucking better than this!

Problem was, despite his claim, Sanosuke was having more trouble breathing by the minute. No telling how much longer he could stand, or when he's start coughing up blood again and leave himself open even worse than he was now. Except it wasn't going to be a problem after all, because just then the best and worst thing that could have happened happened.

Sanosuke knew right away just how fucked they all were.

"Kenshin." He had to cough again, spitting out a red glob before he could say anymore. "Hijikata's gone, and Okita's snapped." He wiped away the blood from his lips with his right hand, knowing what was going to happen. Okita wouldn't let them walk away, not with how he was. And Kenshin was going to fight, and damn it all to hell, Sanosuke could still hear the rurouni talking about how Battousai had come back before. He could be stubborn sometimes, but Sanosuke wasn't so stupid as to not know how this would end.

Especially since he couldn't stop it. What was he going to say? No Kenshin, you can't fight Okita? Like hell that would work. Sanosuke gasped hard, fighting the urge to clutch his wounds, to just stumble back and fall. "Kenshin. Just...be careful, god damn it. Whatever you do."

Sanosuke didn't want Kenshin to die. He didn't want Kenshin to kill. But right then, he didn't know how the fuck to keep either of those things from happening.

Hearing that cough, seeing the blood, made Kenshin wince like it was his own. In a way, it was much more frightening than any of the other injuries he'd seen Sano get in their time together. Internal bleeding was something that couldn't be fixed very easily, and in their time it often meant infection and a slow, painful death, even with the ministrations of doctors like Megumi. There was no doubt in his mind now that Okita had managed to puncture Sanosuke's lung, and that made him angry...and ashamed. He hadn't been there. He'd left Sanosuke to fight a crazed captain of the Shinsengumi while he'd been dealing with insects.

It shouldn't have come to this. Sano shouldn't have been involved in this fight. This was between him and Okita. Just like the time with Saitou, the ten year grudge needed to be settled. "Don't worry, Sano," he replied flatly.

The rurouni then turned on Okita, eyes flashing. "It doesn't look like this one has a choice. He will not forgive anyone who hurts his friends."

With that, he lunged.

So it came down to this. After days of circling each other and keeping the thinnest of alliances, here it fell like a forest to a fire. Homura wasn't around to keep Okita at bay, Sano was taken care of, and now no one stood between him and the Battousai. This was a fight he'd been craving, whether he won or he lost, he needed to resolve this. In fact, Okita didn't really see a downside to losing this battle.

Which made him dangerous. He had nothing left to lose here and everything to take and reclaim, and he didn't care how he did it so long as someone ended up dead. As Okita heard Himura's speech patterns change, his smile widened into something a little more manic as the humanity drained out of his eyes. This was more like it.

It was time to face the Battousai.

Kenshin lunged and Okita watched his shoulders and his hips, calculating where he'd strike and moving his blade to block. The sound of metal singing as it smashed against metal ricocheted off the wall and Okita felt his mind slipping from him. He remembered these sounds and the beautiful horror that usually came with it. They were part of it now. Twisting, he kicked a foot out and aimed it at Kenshin's stomach.

Don't worry? Yeah, because it was really that easy. Sanosuke just had a little internal bleeding plus a limp arm, one of Kenshin's worst enemies ever had completely lost his mind, and Kenshin was going to fight him without the use of his greatest technique. Now he just needed that damn giggly ghost from before to show up, and things would be fucking perfect.

They were already fighting too, the sound of swords clashing familiar even to him. Sano'd seen enough sword fights to know how it worked, and he knew enough about Kenshin to know how this would work, even as he hoped he was wrong. Maybe Okita would slip in his madness, somehow get less accurate, and leave an opening for Kenshin to capitalize on.

Yeah right.

Sanosuke stumbled back, not because he wanted to get out of the way of the fight, because he had to. Another round of coughing, this one enough to drive the fighter to his knees. It really was getting worse. More blood was coming out of his mouth, out of his lung, and damn if the hall wasn't somehow getting darker. He couldn't blame it on his flashlight either.

Shit.

Okita may have had a longer reach than Kenshin, but the rurouni had speed on his side. He dodged Okita's kick and fell back to the wall, pushing off of it to add momentum to his next swing. Already, he was falling back into the old pattern, the strange almost-disconnect between mind and body. Attack, block. Se an opening, respond with a strike. The movements were automatic, letting him assess the situation. There was a pressure point under the armpit. Striking it would completely immobilize Okita without hurting him too badly. Even now, he was still thinking as the rurouni.

The sakabatou swung in a wide, almost lazy arc towards Okita's chest. If he could just get him to respond to the feint, he'd be in perfect position to strike the pressure point with the sheath.

In Okita's mind there were only two people in the hallway - him and Kenshin. Sano melded into the background, into the dark and the coppery smell of blood. He was no longer a threat and he wasn't about to get up again, so he could be ignored for now. Instead, Okita focused everything he had on this fight. He was physically stronger, but Kenshin was faster even when he had his knees caught by the Western pants. Okita had the advantage of wearing his old yukata, but that still didn't equalize the speed factor.

On one thing, however, they were even. They were both experts in their fields and they could both read the other. Okita saw the feint coming and dodged it instead of blocking it, pulling back and out of Kenshin's range. He switched his grip on the sword and tucked his arms in close to his sides before he took another stab at attacking. If Kenshin thought he'd be taken by such an easy blow, he had another thing coming. Running forward, Okita feigned to the right and then struck on the left at the arm holding the sheath.

Kenshin saw Okita's feint just as clearly as Okita had seen his. He dropped low to avoid the blade, but not low enough. It cut across his shoulder, laying it open. He hissed in pain, but didn't drop the sheath. Already, a change was starting to come over him. His eyes were sharper, colder. Just like with Saitou, each moment he fought brought him closer what he had once been.

He reacted to Okita's attack with one of his own, responding tit for tat. He was the faster one. He could get into Okita's space more easily than Okita could get into his.

Unlike Kenshin, Okita didn't care about using the blunt edge of his sword. The smell of blood and the feel of the blade resisting as it cut into flesh were all too familiar. He wished he'd dressed in his uniform now, if only for the nostalgia factor. He could almost imagine tatami beneath his feet and the dying screams of rebels who were too prideful to lay down their weapons echoing off the walls.

He really shouldn't have been thinking of that though. His attention should have been on Kenshin and before he knew it, the rurouni was in his face and Okita was forced to backpedal, trying to get out of his range again. He was still missing something though and as Okita caught a glimpse of Kenshin's eyes, he knew what it was. The Battousai was lurking, but it hadn't yet come out to play. Well, he might as well force it out.

Stopping midstep, Okita abruptly changed directions and brought his sword up to block, before attemping to ram his shoulder hard into Kenshin's injured one.

Kenshin only very distantly registered Yuffie's arrival to the scene. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her kneeling next to Sanosuke, helping her. The part of his mind that wasn't completely focused on the fight--the part that was still the rurouni, Kenshin and not anyone or anything else--was very grateful. When he saw bubbles emerge from nowhere in what he could only assume was some sort of magical healing spell, he could've kissed her. It was all right. Sano was going to be okay.

And now he could focus completely on the task at hand.

Mostly.

The bubbles were too distracting. He let himself get caught up in thinking about his friends, and he made a critical mistake. This time, he did fall for Okita's feint. He didn't see the shoulder coming at him until it was too late, and renewed pain exploded in his injured arm. He gasped, sheath dropping from his nerveless fingers. It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do, but now wasn't the time to mentally berate himself. He had to regain his space and respond. Okita's strikes may have had more force behind them, but he had sheer technical skill on his side. He had the advantage here: he knew how Okita fought. At this point, his opponent had never seen Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu in action. He could still surprise him.

He dropped low again, ignoring the pain in his shoulder so completely that it might have not even been there, for all the difference it made. At first it looked like he was actually running away from the battle, but once he had gotten enough momentum he turned and jumped, higher than anyone conceivably should have been able to. It wasn't near his normal standard, thanks to this place, but it would do. The sakabatou flashed in a wide arc, aiming for the juncture between Okita's shoulder and his neck. At one point this had been a killing stroke, meant to slice his opponent neatly in half. With his sword reversed, though, it would just hurt like hell if it connected.

"Hiten Mitsurugi-ryuu: Ryuutsuisen," he announced.

His voice was cold.

Unlike Kenshin, Okita didn't notice Yuffie when she arrived. Anything that wasn't registered as a threat just didn't break through right now. He'd gotten a hit in on Kenshin, but it hadn't seemed to slow the man down. And for all the good his strength and range did, Kenshin's speed and his skill were showing to be formidable. It was like fighting against Yoshida all over - someone else who overpowered him. It ended up taking two people to take him down and most of that had been Tetsu's unorthodox methods of fighting.

Maybe he needed such methods, too.

Kenshin was running through and Okita chased, focused on driving his sword through Kenshin's chest. It wasn't until Kenshin suddenly turned and jumped that Okita knew he'd fallen into a trap. It was impossible how high the man had managed to go, but in the time it took for him to slash down, Okita had slid to a stop and brought his sword up, bracing for the blow. But why announce the attack?

It didn't seem to matter since the attack was stronger than Okita had expected. Their blades connected and Okita was shoved back; more than shoved, he was practically thrown. His arms ached from the force and he felt his fingers go a little numb when his back hit the wall behind him hard. That wasn't good. Whatever that Ryuutsuisen was, it couldn't be allowed to happen again or he'd break his sword. Pushing off from the wall, Okita tightened his grip and refused to let the air that had all but fled from his lungs to stop him. Taking a deep breath before he shot back into the fight, Okita tried to circle around and stab Kenshin from the side.

Kenshin could feel the vibrations from the Ryuutsuisen in his own sword as well. The weapons he and Okita had commissioned here were well-made and serviceable, yes, but they'd been forged with scrap metal, not honed steel. They weren't as strong and flexible as the swords that both men were used to. Any more strong attacks like that, and they'd both end up with broken weapons.

Good thing to know.

The Ryuutsuisen had managed to wind Okita, though, so maybe the effort hadn't been entirely wasted. No matter how professional he was, the Shinsengumi Captain's next attack was bound to be slightly sloppier than the last because he couldn't breathe properly. In order to make up for it, he'd probably go for a thrust, like...that?

He blocked it easily enough, but it wasn't exactly the attack he'd expected. His blue eyes got even sharper, and something...else crept into his expression.

"Interesting. I was expecting something more along the lines of Saitou's Gatotsu."

Edited 2008-09-30 13:45 (UTC)

I? Now that was interesting. Personal pronouns weren't something he heard out of Himura Kenshin. The only time he had was when the Battousai had emerged when the nurse's blood had sprayed Kenshin in the face. Kenshin easily blocked Okita's blow, but he had been expecting that. He wasn't strong enough to put any real force behind the blow. Still, it gave him an opportunity to strike back and learn more about how Kenshin fought, even on a superficial level.

He was expecting something else.

Okita stepped back and brought the sword around, holding it in both hands in front of him. Saitou's Gatotsu? What in the world was that? He knew all of Saitou's moves - they'd trained together - and he'd never heard of anything like that. The rurouni was trying to throw him off, muddle his mind with unnecessary thoughts when the only ones that mattered were the fight and punishing someone for Hijikata's disappearance through it. Even if that someone ended up being him, he didn't care. He wanted to feel fire and blood and physical pain in place of this deep emotional ache. Anything was better than admitting he had a heart left to break.

"Something along those lines, hm?" Okita backed up a step and then held firm, leveling an empty gaze at the man in front of him. "I'm sorry to say I'm not Saitou-san, but I'll kill you all the same if you wish."

Running forward, Okita decided to try something a little different. If Kenshin was looking for standard Shinsengumi attacks, then he'd just have to go with something a little more...Tetsu. Moving in like he was going to go for another strong thrust to the chest, Okita released one hand from his sword just before reaching Kenshin and slid along the floor, kicking out at the man's legs while pulling the last pen from his sleeve to stab it at Himura's right thigh.

"I think half of Japan has already claimed that right. Saitou, particularly." Kenshin's eyes were just as empty as Okita's, cold and sharp and lacking any of their usual expressiveness. He was focusing on the fight, and the fight only. He couldn't even see Sano and Yuffie anymore. The darkened hallway felt more and more like Kyoto with each passing second.

He anticipated Okita's lunge and moved up to counter it. He even managed to avoid the kick that had come with it. What he didn't anticipate, though, was the pen. He cried out as it sank into his leg, but it was more of a temporary annoyance. Pain wasn't something that slowed him down. He'd learned how to move beyond it long ago.

Gritting his teeth, he yanked the pen out of his thigh and threw it far away from them. It stung, but it wasn't a bad wound. The pen hadn't hit the artery. He wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death. Straightening, he swung at Okita's exposed neck.

Edited 2008-10-01 23:28 (UTC)

He missed the artery, but he got a hit in anyway. The smell of blood and the cry of pain was enough for him. And the time it took Kenshin to remove the pen meant he had a little time to get back to his feet and start to move away. Not enough though and suddenly there was a sword coming at his neck. Okita didn't have enough time to counter, but he could still dodge and that's what he did.

Dropping to one knee, he bent away from the sword, feeling the wind graze his ear. Something caught a few strands of hair and he knew that he'd just gotten a slightly unorthodox trim on one side. Pushing off from the ground, he jumped back and adjusted his grip on his sword. That was far too close.

Too close and just enough. Now it felt like home. That had been a kill blow and this was no longer the Himura Kenshin he'd fought before. Kenshin went for pressure points, he went to disable his opponent, but this new person in his place...he went for the blood and the pain. This was the man who had killed his friends.

Okita took a few more steps back and smiled bitterly. Kenshin had always been the man who had killed his friends, but Okita had refused to really see him that way. Until now, they'd been allies, but now they were just enemies. Tomorrow would be a difficult day, if he lived to see it. He hoped he didn't. He didn't really have much to go for now except the thrill of battle and the glory of death whether it be his or someone else's. "If Saitou-san has claimed you, then I'll have to apologize to him later. He'll understand." Standing firm now, the captain spread his stance. With a sword, Himura Kenshin was dangerous, but without one? Physical strength was on Okita's side. "I was never good at sharing."

And again, Okita dashed forward, aiming a slash down and across Kenshin's body. It was probably easy enough to block, but that was what he was hoping for. If Kenshin blocked, a hard kick to his stomach would follow.

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