IT'S A GOOD NIGHT FOR A RUN

[sanosuke_sagara]

IT’S A GOOD NIGHT FOR A RUN

Date: Wednesday, February 8, 2060

Time: Evening

Place: Outside around town

Characters: Sano, Kenshin



It was the third day of Sano’s new exercise schedule, one he started to keep himself in shape after he finally snapped out of his self-induced, three week drunken stupor. It had been more than stupid of him to go on a three week bender, but now he understood that his actions were meant to escape from the gnawing sense of grief that he felt over the loss of almost everyone in his special operation’s unit, thanks to the government’s stupidity.

His routine had worked into one daytime run, either in the morning, or mid-day, and one evening run, preferably after dark. He was starting to see more of New Meiji, sometimes seeing far more than he really wanted to see. He’d spent a fair amount of time outside the country on missions, having been a member of the ill fated Sekihoutai Special Forces unit of Japan’s Homeland Defense Force.

The night seemed unusually cold and dark, so he picked up his pace to generate more body heat. He was sure he’d be starving when he was done with his run. He was glad there was an all night okonomiyaki restaurant near his apartment building. There was nothing like a few of those hot and steaming off the grill to satisfy what ailed a starving body, or jogger.

Running on the edge of a public park, he glanced into the darkness only to be greeted by trees looming at him like they were some sort of menacing monsters. Sano didn’t give them much thought. It wasn’t like he was afraid of the dark, or for that matter, of trees in the dark. But they did remind him a little of one night in China, when he and the guys were trying to find a target in a forest that looked eerily the same as this one.

He was about to cross the street so he could take a sharp left turn at the upcoming intersection and head back in the direction of his apartment building, when he heard a noise, or he *thought* he heard a noise.

Comments

[katananokokoro]

Something was going on. Kenshin sat on the roof and peered at the building several blocks down through the sights of the binoculars. That was Hiroko-san's apartment, Salamander's little sister, though as far as he could tell, only by a year or so. He had come here to-- he wasn't sure. A desire to do something. (As if you haven't done enough already.) But that uncertainty had kept him up here on the roof, watching and thinking as the sun burned red and low below the glass buildings. Now it was night, the stars sharp as razors and the wind, too, cutting through his hoody-- he still hadn't managed to decide on anything.

Salamander's phone buzzed again and he swallowed thickly, pulling it from his pocket and holding it as he stared at her number. Another text. So many of them. He didn't want to read it. He wanted to throw the phone over the roof so that it shattered on the sidewalk. But Hiroko-san didn't deserve such treatment. Whatever else Salamander had been, Hiroko had loved him. Kenshin wiped his sweaty fingers on his jeans and opened the phone.

Tell me what happened. You must have known him. Tell me.

Always the same words over and over. Who are you. Tell me. Please. And he was tempted. He was tempted to go up to her apartment and knock on her door and tell her everything with his forehead pressed to the floor, of how he had killed Salamander. Had taken her beloved brother from her. But then he would have to tell her that her brother had been mad, too. Mad and dangerous to all around him, including her. (So you can break her heart all the more.) His thumb hovered over the reply button, but ultimately he flipped the phone closed like he always did, his gut twisting, throat dry. He could kill easily enough but he was too much of a coward to actually— actually apologize. Explain. If only he could think of a way to do it without hurting her.

And of course there was the other problem. Kenshin lifted the binoculars again. People, men and women, about five of them he could see and who knew how many he couldn’t, lurking in the shadows around her apartment. On the street below. On the roof. In a window where he was sure he could see the glint of a sniper rifle. He could feel their edge from here. Too close to anxiety to be a government trained professional, but too much of an edge to them to be anything but better than good in their own right. The question was, who were they? Part of Salamander’s syndicate? Guarding Hiroko-san against Salamander’s syndicate? Bodyguards hired by the Hiroshi family? Or another group entirely? They didn’t seem here for her, thankfully. But were they waiting for something? Someone? Or just erring on the side of caution?

Kenshin wanted to know but that would require more watching, stalking, gathering information, which would require getting a safe house nearby. Close enough to run to if he needed to. But it would be difficult in this area and he wouldn’t be able to stock it effectively which meant he would have to get a job somehow to eat since train fare was going up again— and there were fewer and fewer people willing to hire under the table. (so much effort for simply increasing the murder rate.) Kenshin sighed, tilting his head back and wished fervently that his mind would just shut up for two damned seconds. Just a moment of peace was all he wanted. A moment of clarity. A moment of, yes, this is the right thing. But was it? And if it wasn’t, what was?

[katananokokoro]

He closed his eyes and tried to still his mind, wrapping his hand around Kitetsu. Even through the cloth of its bag, Kenshin could feel the sword’s presence. An extension of his own. But no hesitation here. A sword that hesitates is a sword that is lost. And then he felt it. Something like a brush of wind. And then footsteps picking out a steady rhythm over concrete. Kenshin slipped to the edge of the building and saw a jogger below. Well built from this vantage, which explained why he was out anywhere in New Meiji at night alone. But too purposeful and sure to be a fool. There seemed to be something grim about him. Something Kenshin couldn’t quite define.

Either way he seemed to be heading straight for Hiroko-san’s building. That might not end up well. A jogger this late was unusual enough and those guards were anxious enough. It could lead to an accident and he didn’t think that this man was as incredibly unfortunate as Megumi. Kenshin slipped Kitetsu against his back and sped ahead, leaping three buildings away from the jogger and then bounding down, using two adjacent walls to bounce off and aid his descent. Once he hit the alley he made sure to brush a trash can so his sudden appearance wouldn’t startle the man and emerged from the alley into the man’s path, holding his hands up to show the man he was harmless.

“Good evening,” Kenshin said with a smile. “Forgive me for interrupting but can I speak with you a moment?”

[sanosuke_sagara]

Yep, it was a noise for sure. Sounded like somebody hit a garbage can on the side, must have been a drunk, Sano thought. He stepped off the curb to head to the other side of the street when a pint-sized apparition appeared right in front of him.

“Whoa, buddy, better watch it there. I’d hate to run into you,” the ex-op said, as an apology.

Earlier in the week, he’d almost decked a kid on roller blades being dragged by a dog. He was starting to wonder about his track record with pedestrians these days.

The guy was short. Didn’t look like a threat, especially with that universal ‘hands up’ signal. But just as Sano told the Mishima kid, can’t judge a book by the cover, and although the man looked harmless, he might be quite the opposite. These days, Sano wasn’t into trusting anyone, well maybe that cute young girl outside the burned out diner.

“Good evening,…Forgive me for interrupting but can I speak with you a moment?”

Sano stood in place. “Yeah, I guess so.” He still didn’t feel the guy was a threat, and Sano was pretty good at threat assessment, at least that was what his late C.O., Captain Sagara, had always told him.

[katananokokoro]

He was a large man. (As everyone was. Was this really Japan? Sometimes Kenshin had to wonder.) He was well built, too. A fighter of some kind, Kenshin guessed. Though his ki seemed...off. Like a candle flame being slowly suffocated under a glass--missing that-- what was it? That brightness? The quick heat?

Kenshin realized he was starting to space out and hauled himself back to the present moment, feeling the air cold through the sweatshirt material and stinging at his nose with the guy looming over him and casting a long shadow. (Which didn't seem so unusual for him.)

"Well you see, there's a tense situation a few blocks down from where you're heading. I'm not sure what it is but I think someone like you even running by could provoke something...unfortunate." It sounded crazy, even to his own ears. He couldn't say more. He didn't even really know more. But he hoped it worked because the last thing he wanted to see was more blood splattered against the wall because of his carelessness.

"But I know the alleys here really well so if you tell me where you're trying to go I can probably find a short cut." Or a long cut. Or something. Because bright flame or muted one, neither would be enough to stop a bullet.

[sanosuke_sagara]

Trouble, huh? Trouble used to be Sano’s middle name, but these days he was on the other side of being quite so young, reckless, and carefree. Most important of all, he didn’t go *looking* for butts to kick like he used to. He was content to leave them well enough alone, unless it was unavoidable, and regrettably, sometimes it was very unavoidable.

“Thanks for the tip. No sense stirring up more trouble than is already brewing,” the ex-op replied thoughtfully.

Good grief, did the guy think he’d just stepped off the transport from Okinawa, or what? Sano would bet, if he was still placing bets, that the shrimp would be more than happy to guide him through an alley or two, and then try to rip him off. But…the ex-op hadn’t thought that the little guy posed any threat when they’d first almost run into each other.

“Thanks for the offer, bud, I’m not lookin’ for trouble tonight, so I’ll just go back the way I came.” It wouldn’t hurt to see the same scenery twice in one night. Sano figured it wasn’t worth adding that he didn’t need an escort or a babysitter to get home safely.

With that, Sano turned and started walking back home, retracing the route he’d used to get to the park with the menacing looking trees.

[katananokokoro]

Kenshin, while relieved the man would walk the other way--had a strange feeling of disappointment. Something like, being starving and seeing a potato chip bag, only its empty or full of air because they wanted to see what you would do. But that had been a long time ago. And it was normal to feel hungry, after all, he hadn't eaten for a while. But this was under the skin, picking through his veins.

"Ah, sure," Kenshin said, though it was the last thing he wanted to say. And why? "Thank you. I appreciate it, that I do." Though using that form sounded foolish somehow. He had already started walking away in any case. Which was good. It was what Kenshin wanted. It was better for everyone. (Except you are usually the one walking away...) There was something strange about watching him go though. Something missing--

"I see you've taken the symbol of bad off your back," Kenshin said. "But is it really gone, I wonder?" Though even as he finished, he wondered what he had meant. Hiding bad-- What?

(Better hiding 'bad' than wearing hitokiri so openly.)

And then phone buzzed. Buzzed and buzzed. She was calling this time. He flipped open the phone and heard the clear tone of her voice for a split second before he jammed the end button. And for just an instant, a white hot flash of hate cut through him. For Salamander who had hurt others in his own quest for self worth, for this city and the drugs that pumped through its street like diseased blood, for the world. One war or a hundred, nothing ever really changed.

[sanosuke_sagara]

Sano stopped in place, a bit startled by the man’s words. The ex-op couldn’t ever remember seeing the guy. But how the heck did he know about the ‘bad’ symbol. Well, when he’d been wearing *that*, he did have a reputation for drinking, gambling and picking fights. But that had been years ago, before he had joined the Sekihoutai Unit, before he met Captain Sagara and got himself straightened out.

There was no way Sano could even begin to remember the hundreds of bars and gambling dens that had once been graced by his presence on a regular basis. But damn, the guy probably worked at one of them to remember something like the symbol embroidered on the back of what used to be the ex-op’s favorite jacket.

Should he stop, or should he keep walking home. He knew he should just keep going. He wasn’t into any sort of socializing these days, not unless it was to spend a few moments chatting with a cute girl, or rescuing some nutty kid with a dog dragging death wish.

Sano just shrugged and continued on his way.

[katananokokoro]

Sano stopped. Kenshin straightened but soon realized that whatever he was thinking it wasn't-- It wasn't what? And who the hell was Sano? Too many dreams mixed in his memories. Too many thoughts that jumbled. Or maybe he was just going mad, finally.

(and who would stop you then?) A chill twisted down his spine and he tried not to think about it. Still, whatever the man had worn once upon a time had been muted. Hidden. As if his spirit was slowly being smothered. Then the man shrugged, as if shaking off Kenshin's opinions on the matter, and was suddenly a stranger. No one Kenshin had ever known. No one he would know.

(A firefly winking out and disappearing into the dark)

"Be careful," he said. To not get shot in the dark. To not let your spirit be scrubbed away by the harshness of the world. To not forget how to live.

[sanosuke_sagara]

"Be careful”

“Thanks I will,” he replied, continuing to walk away, at first not understanding why he even bothered to answer someone he didn’t even know.

But the guy had warned Sano of impending trouble, and that alone was worth a courtesy as far as the ex-op was concerned.

[katananokokoro]

And so the man faded into the night. As abruptly as he came. Kenshin watched him go, listened to the sound of his footfalls against the concrete. Hopefully he would be careful, and find whatever it was that he'd lost. Kenshin closed his eyes briefly, then glanced at Salamander's phone, large in his palm. Silent now but not for long. She would ask. And ask.

(And will you even answer her?)

No. Kenshin clenched his fingers around the plastic casing. He couldn't do both. He couldn't be both. He couldn't always be waiting for-- something. The sword that hesitates is lost.

He would cut Rat from the city first, and once he was gone, then Kenshin would think of what to do next. But he had started this and now he was going to finish it.

(That's how you justify--)

"No," Kenshin said. And there was nothing more but the cold and the wind and the faint sound of sirens in the distance. He shoved Salamander's phone in his pocket and started down the street.

Tonight he would start to search for safe house locations and in the morning he would start to search for a job. Until those two things were accomplished, nothing else mattered.