Echoes: Kessen II

DISCLAIMER: Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

Author's notes:

I'm so glad I decided to split this one in two. ^^;

oooooooooooo

Kessen II

It was the first time he'd seen Iwakami at a loss for words.

The samurai lay frozen beneath him, his eyes as wide as the sky. His heavy breath misted Jakotsu's blade. Sweat slid down his brow. Long moments passed between them. Iwakami was the first to break the silence.

"Try it and-"

Jakotsu gave a mirthless laugh. "Don't get your hopes up. I'd sooner fuck a hornet's nest." He pressed the knifepoint into his skin. "You want to die fast? Beg for it."

Iwakami stared back for a few moments. Then his stare gave way to a smile. The bastard was smiling at him.

He let out a low, rasping chuckle. "Beg?"

"You heard me."

Jakotsu slid the knife down to his chest. He ripped part of his armour away. The knife left a thin trickle of blood down his neck.

Iwakami somehow managed to keep smiling through the pain. "For you? You think-"

Jakotsu responded with a punch.

Iwakami took it with a mere grunt. He wrinkled his battered features in scorn. "Brat hit harder than you."

"Didn't I tell you?" Jakotsu's free hand curled around the wakizashi's hilt. His voice was strained to breaking. "I'm not finished yet."

He twisted the blade. Iwakami's retort died in a scream.

"I did warn you."

Iwakami didn't reply. His eyes sought Hiroshi's. He had even less of a chance than he did yet the old bastard was still clinging onto life by his fingertips. His gaze was remarkably steady for a dying man. And colder than the steel. He wouldn't move so much as a finger for him.

Iwakami's glare shot back to Jakotsu. "The Daimyou..."

"Isn't coming." Jakotsu's smile was lethally sharp.

"Little bitch..." Iwakami's words were growing more laboured by the moment. "Think I'm-"

"Think?" Jakotsu gave the sword another wrench. He was rewarded with another scream. "You should try it some time. Or are you forgetting?"

"Fuck y-"

"No Daimyou. No Onuki." He raised his knife. "No one for you to hide behind. Not this time."

Iwakami's lips curled in the mockery of a smile. "Who's hiding?" He gave a laugh that ended in a cough. "Onuki... that brat... Think you're better-"

"Better than you'll ever be." The knife trembled in his hand.

Iwakami's smile widened. "Don't make me..." He gave another cough. Blood spattered Makoto's sleeve. "Never... beat him... never will."

"Shut up."

Iwakami's grin was streaked with blood. "Keep running, Ma-"

The knife came down.

oooooooooooo

All it took was one blow.

Makoto had woken to find a guard with a lantern, a dinner tray  and a message. Each was less welcome than the last. He'd started dressing as soon as he'd cleared his bowl. Tonight was no time for mistakes.

The Daimyou's sickness had come like thunder on a clear day. Some of the guards said he'd been as fit as a flea that very morning. Others whispered that it was the first time they'd seen him so ill. A few even wondered if it was natural.

None dared suspect it would be his last.

Makoto had the sense not to voice his thoughts. He reached for the kosode he'd picked out that morning. He'd long outgrown the first one Onuki-sama bought him but he was generous with his gifts, if nothing else. This one was sewn of squares of plum and ivory silk with trailing wisteria blossoms picked out in golden thread. Finer than even O-Shizu's garments.  It'd most likely wind up on the floor but it was the thought that counted.

At least he'd bathed after training. Onuki-sama rarely had time for him these days but he could find no shortage of practice partners to wear him out. You didn't say no to Onuki-sama.

He applied his powder as evenly as he could in the lantern's pale light. His brass mirror offered only a dull reflection. Onuki-sama knew better than to put glass in his hands. Still, he'd had more than time enough to practice. His eyes and brows were soon done. He finished with a slick of garnet red across his lips. Not bad. But it needed a little something.

He rifled through his trinkets until his fingers settled on a hairpin. That was the first one Onuki-sama had gifted him: a single golden butterfly. It was as fitting as any. He twisted up his hair, slid the pin in place and took one last glance at his reflection. It would do. It would have to.

His head snapped up as the lock gave a click. He dropped to his knees and kept his head low. His eyes flicked upwards.

Onuki-sama stood silhouetted in the doorway. Kei cowered at his heels. No guards accompanied them. He hadn't even brought his katana. His only weapon was a small dagger tucked into the waistband of his hakama. Still, it wasn't as if he'd need it. Kei was weapon enough.

His gaze roamed around the room until it settled on Makoto. Makoto's gaze went back to the floor. Eye contact was never a good idea.

"Well, here we are." Onuki-sama's tone was light. Much too light for such a heavy occasion. "I guess it's a little snug but..."

Kei made no reply. His stare bored into the back of Makoto's neck. He didn't take a single step forwards.

"What's this? I thought you wanted to see Mako-chan." He pushed the boy forwards.

Kei gasped and grabbed at the wall for support. He made a sound that might have been a whimper. He limped aside to avoid another push.

Makoto gritted his teeth. Onuki-sama would never do anything permanent to one of his favourites but he'd been growing more heavy-handed of late. He'd best take his mind off Kei as soon as possible.

"Oh, suit yourself." Onuki-sama was already bored. Never a good sign.

The samurai shoved Kei into a corner. The boy stumbled to his knees with a cry. He didn't even try to get back up.

Onuki-sama locked and barred the door. He dusted off his hands and strode towards Makoto. He caught the whiff of sake as he drew closer. He'd had a drop too much of it, judging by the stagger in his step. He fought to suppress a flinch. He'd better guard his tongue.

A rough hand landed on his shoulder. He kept his head down. Onuki-sama preferred him on his knees. These days he was level with his eyes rather than his chest. One day he might even be looking down on him. Now wasn't the best time to remind him.

"Onuki-sama?" He risked a quick glance.

"Need you ask?" He broke into a sly smile and patted the futon.

He was soon done with him.  Sake always made him rougher but at least it made him quicker. Whether it was the drink or the weight of a heavy mind, he was in no mood to stay the night. He rolled off the futon and left Makoto to clean up.

He didn't so much as glance at Kei. The boy hadn't taken his eyes off the wall since he'd fallen. Onuki-sama would soon tire of him, as he'd soon tired of the twins. Broken toys didn't interest him. With Makoto he could at least find the odd spark of rebellion left to crush.

Yet even that challenge was growing stale. His last few visits had all been short. Short and further and further apart. There'd soon come a day when tormenting him lost its allure. And when it came...

"Will you require anything more Onuki-sama?" That was usually a safe question.

"Not tonight, Mako-chan... duty calls." He turned away.

Makoto gave him a nod. He retrieved a small comb and began running it through his hair. It wouldn't take long to smooth it out. Smoothing out his doubts was another matter. He risked another question.

"Your lord father?"

Onuki-sama gave a sigh. "I forget. You don't get out much, do you?" He shook his head. As if it was Makoto's fault. As usual. "He's not too well. You may have heard."

Makoto put down the comb and reached for his hairpin. He kept his face neutral.

"I pray for his return to health." He didn't have much of an alternative.

"There's no need. He won't see sunrise."

Makoto blinked. "Onuki-sama?"

"He's an old man, Mako-chan. Past fifty. His time was bound to come sooner or later."

Makoto couldn't hide his shock this time. "He's the Daimyou," he blurted out.

He gave himself a mental kick in the shin. At least he hadn't had the stupidity to add 'and your father'. Of course Onuki-sama would be the next Daimyou. Who would refuse him?

Onuki-sama let out another sigh. "Ah, I'm forgetting myself again. I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?"

A frown rose to his brow. He suppressed it with a smile. "Know what, Onuki-sama?"

"The joys of family." His voice held years of bitterness. "Still, I should be thankful. Your father didn't do you many favours, did he? Well, apart from Jatou." He gave a brief chuckle.

Mama and Grandpa had been family enough for Makoto. His tongue moved faster than his thoughts. "Grandpa made-"

"Ah, yes, your grandfather. Such a pity." He shook his head in mock remorse. "Old fool didn't have the sense to leave that dump while he had the chance."

Makoto had to clap his hand to his mouth to hold back his retort. He'd long lost count of the barbs Onuki-sama had slung at him over the years. But he'd never talked about Grandpa like this before. He looked away before he could catch the fire in his eyes.

Onuki-sama carried on talking as if he wasn't there. "Shame I never asked your mother. Perhaps she'd have been a bit more... willing."

His tone set Makoto's teeth on edge. After all they'd had done for him. His grip tightened around the hairpin. His tongue just couldn't stay put.

"She wouldn't-"

Onuki-sama cut him off with a smile. "There's only one way women make money, Mako-chan." He reached over and patted him on the head. "Honestly... what would you do without me?"

His last shred of control gave way.

All it took was one blow. Onuki-sama crumpled like a leaf. His eyes grew wide with pain.  They shot to the hairpin buried in his stomach.

"You..."

He slumped to the floor with a groan. His hands clutched at the hairpin. Kei let out a gasp. Onuki-sama's fingers were too unsteady to draw it out. There was no hiding the hint of panic in his eyes.

Makoto stared down at him, his eyes even wider than Onuki-sama's. His breath fluttered in his throat. His shoulders trembled. Yet a flame sparked deep inside him. He couldn't tear his gaze from the samurai. He was much less intimidating on his knees. Much more vulnerable. Almost helpless. A smile rose to his lips.

Onuki-sama glared up at him. "D-damn you..."

His hand went to the knife at his hip. Makoto's hand was quicker. He whipped the blade away before he could clutch his empty sheath.

"Makoto!"

He made a grab for his arm. The sake had slowed him somewhat but he was fast when threatened. Makoto was faster. He sprang forwards and tackled him to the floor.

Onuki-sama gasped and twisted beneath him. He seized Makoto's collar. Too slow again. The knife was already at his throat. The panic in his eyes shifted into horror.

That sight was worth any risk. The fire growing in his stomach spurred him on. He gave the samurai his sweetest smile. His voice was sweeter still.

"Is something wrong, Onuki-sama?"

The samurai fixed him with another glare. Kei shrank back against the wall. That would have sent Makoto scurrying only moments before. How quickly things could change. His fear was burning away.

"Put. It. Down. Makoto." Every word was agony.

How could he refuse him? He drove the knife deep into his shoulder.

That made him scream. Long and loud. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever made. His hand lost its grip and hit the floor. His fingers clenched in agony.

Makoto withdrew the knife. Onuki-sama writhed and groaned beneath him. So beautiful. Just like when they first met.

His smile broke into a grin. He slid a trail of crimson across his chest.

His second scream was even sweeter. His struggles only aggravated his wound. So much blood. Kei began to whimper. Makoto paid him no mind. A hot shiver slid down his spine. He raised the knife again.

The samurai rasped out another word.

"Stop..."

Makoto wouldn't stop. Not for a moment.

He'd learned what mercy bought you.

Onuki-sama was long gone by the time the guards broke through the door. The sight that awaited them left them speechless. All they could do was gape. No use. As usual. They'd never come for his screams.

He took care of them in a matter of moments. Three garden-variety watchmen were nothing after Onuki-sama. One didn't even have time to draw his sword. He bent down to slide it from its scabbard. He took Onuki-sama's keys too. He left him the hairpin.

Kei watched him with big moon eyes. He hadn't moved an inch. Makoto levelled his blade and turned to face him. That sent him scurrying. He scrabbled out of the doorway as fast as his wounded leg could carry him.

Makoto let him go. Kei was no threat. Let them come. One or a thousand. There was only one thing that mattered right now.

He soon found his way to the steps that led to the trapdoor. Onuki-sama's rooms were quiet at this hour. It would be some time before the bodies were found. He'd had more than long enough to get to know the castle's secrets. The third mat he dislodged revealed a loose floorboard. He pulled it up to reveal a lacquered wooden box. He replaced it with the katana. Good job he'd taken those keys.

The box opened with the faintest of clicks. He slid Jatou from its sleeve of silk. The blade flickered like a snake's tongue in the lantern light. A smile rose to his lips. With Jatou in his hand, he was almost-

A creak came from behind him. He spun and brandished his blade at the unseen threat.

O-Shizu stood in the doorway, her face whiter than her yukata. She held a paper lantern in one hand. The other clutched at the doorframe. Her wailing son clutched at her sleeve. Her eyes grew wide with terror as she glimpsed the blood on his kosode.

She opened her mouth to scream.

Jatou stopped her a fraction too late. The lantern was hurled into the air. It smacked into the wall. Flames began to lick their way up the panels.

The child began to bawl.

Makoto swallowed a curse. Panic rose in his chest. He raised his blade once more.

The next few minutes were a haze of smoke and blood. Anyone who got in his way was hacked aside. Servant or guard, young or old, he didn't even look at their faces. The less people caught sight of his own, the better. Somehow, he made it back to the cellar in one piece.

He forced his way through the trapdoor and slammed it shut behind him. He caught a hurried breath. A sob sounded from below him.

"Kei."

Kei lay at the foot of the steps, clutching his wounded leg. He froze at the sound of Makoto's voice.

"Kei, it's me." Makoto slung his bloody blade over his shoulder and approached him open-handed.

Kei shrank back against the wall. He couldn't take his eyes from his face.

"Come on, Kei. It's me. Makoto." He reached out a hand.

Kei's body was shaking like a leaf in a gale. He curled into a ball with a whimper. He shook his head as Makoto leaned closer.

He'd never reach out to him again.

Makoto let his hand fall.  Footsteps came from above. They didn't have much time. He reached for Jatou.

He couldn't leave Kei like this. If he stayed he'd choke or burn. Let the guards catch him and his fate would be even worse. At least he could grant him one small mercy.

That was all he had left to give.

oooooooooooo

"Jakotsu?"

Bankotsu's voice  strained from his throat. His head was filled with fog. His lungs burned with every breath. He forced an eye open.

"Jakotsu?"

Jakotsu didn't respond. He slammed his blade into Iwakami's chest - or what was left of it. His arm was crimson with gore. The samurai's corpse was splayed out beneath him, awash with blood. His knife quivered in his hands. He carried on stabbing.

He tried a little louder. "Jakotsu. He's dead."

Jakotsu drove his knife back into the corpse. He withdrew it near as fast. His arm shot back down for another blow. Words alone wouldn't reach him.

Bankotsu clenched his teeth and reached for the nearest weapon to hand - a broken spear haft. He dragged himself upright with a groan. The effort brought tears to his eyes. He choked them down and attempted to take a step forwards. That sent him stumbling. He drove the haft into the dirt. It trembled under his weight. He forced another step.

"Jakotsu..." He paused to steady his legs. He swore under his breath and pushed on. He kept his voice as calm as possible. "It's okay... he can't-"

A hand clutched at his ankle. He started and stared down at Hiroshi. The archer stared up at him through a haze of pain. Blood trickled from his cracked lips.

"You see... boy?" His voice was a hollow croak. He turned his head towards Jakotsu and nodded for him to do the same.

Bankotsu didn't take his eyes off Hiroshi. "Get off me." He gave him the hardest kick he could manage.

Hiroshi didn't care. He attempted to raise his hand. His fingers scraped uselessly at the dirt.

"See."

Bankotsu followed his gaze this time. Jakotsu hadn't even noticed them. His arm hung heavier after every stab. His eyes had lost none of their fire.

"Him... that monster..."

Hiroshi's voice dissolved into a series of coughs. He swore and forced out a few more words.

"Nothing but... trouble."

Bankotsu shook his head. He steadied himself and raised the spear haft. Hiroshi met his eyes again. He didn't look away. He drove the sharp end through his throat.

It was quicker than he deserved.

Pulling it out almost put him flat on his back. He stifled a cry and plodded on.

Jakotsu could barely raise his arm by now. His hand trembled with every stab. Bankotsu crept up beside him. His breath hammered in his ears. He placed his hand on Jakotsu's shoulder.

"It's okay, Ja-"

His voice was smothered by an enveloping hug.

Fire shot through his ribs. His fingers lost their grip. The spear haft clattered to the ground. The knife fell beside it. He winced as Jakotsu crushed him to his chest.

"Jakotsu..."

A sob burst from Jakotsu's throat. His grip slackened just enough to allow Bankotsu another breath. He was shaking. He wasn't the only one. Bankotsu reached up and gave his back an awkward pat.

There was another sob. Then another. His shoulder grew wet with tears. The shaking slowed and stilled. Jakotsu's arms relaxed around him. He slumped against his chest as his knees finally gave way.

There was no need for words.

oooooooooooo

Constructive criticism is very welcome!

I update every Sunday. The next chapter will be the final one.