~Kyo’s POV~

I don’t know how the next couple of days would have been like if I hadn’t gotten those few drops of broth and water in that Rengoku woman. After she had fallen asleep, she immediately came down with a burning fever. The woman thrashed around to the point that the doctor had me tie her down. She mumbled incoherent nonsense the whole time, fighting invisible monsters in her feverish dreams. That lasted about two days.

Suddenly, she went still. Kurosaki took the opportunity to redo her bandages. The stench from two days before was like a bouquet of roses compared to what was unleashed then. It was the sickeningly sweet smell of infection. Rengoku’s body was oozing a nasty yellow and red puss from the wounds. Her still climbing temperature just made it worse. All I could do was make sure the fire in the room kept going to sweat the fever out. Whenever I tried to force her to drink the water, her gag reflex wouldn’t work and she wouldn’t swallow. The doctor worked surprisingly hard to keep her alive despite his gloomy outlook. He changed her bandages twice a day and made many different strange colored salves to heal to burns.

The fever broke on the fifth night after she had fallen asleep.

“It could mean that she is recovering or her system is finally shutting down. Either way, there is not much else I can do.” He said when he left that night. While sitting at her windowsill, I contemplated why exactly I had stayed.

The first thing that came to mind was the damn sword that had stayed at the corpse’s feet the entire time. It refused to moved, and every time I tried to force it, more blood was drawn. If it had been any other sword, I would have taken my chances on my own. But Muramasa had given it to me. Some part of me wouldn’t let it go.

The whole situation got me quite curious, which is hard to do. There were a hundred things I wanted to know about this woman, though it pained me to admit it. How had a Mibu been so severely injured? Does she have something against the clan as well? What is her exact affiliation with Muramasa? How did he come to name her if he wasn’t her father? I wanted so many answers. After traveling around for as long as I had with no purpose, a mission of sorts took away from the boredom.

Besides all of that, I knew that Rengoku Senken was a friend of Muramasa. Even though he would forgive me for letting her die, it wasn’t out of not caring for her. The man was just that sort of person. Muramasa would eventually pardon me, but he would grieve for this person for a while. And I couldn’t be the reason for his sadness; I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Besides, it isn’t as if I have anything better to do. I thought to myself as I finally drifted off into the pleasant realm of slumber.

I awoke slowly to calm for once. Little beams of dusty light shone through the opening of the window and warmed my face. From inside, I could hear the restless sounds of animals out and about, doing their daily tasks. This is…nice. I let out a contented sigh. Though I live for the thrill of the fight, moments like these were welcome.

Something white shot into my field of vision, startling me to full awareness. Sitting on the porch a few feet away from the window was the idiotic woman, looking like a mummy as she waved her bandaged hand in greeting. Though half of her face was covered, she beamed a bright smile in my direction.

I opened the connecting door and stepped out, taking Tenro with me. “What the hell are you doing up, you old hag?” I asked, looming over her.

“I still can’t believe I snuck out without you waking up. You sleep like a baby. You’re so much cuter when you aren’t scowling at me.” She commented. Before I started ranting at her, she sighed. “Same thing you were; enjoying the sunlight of a new day, though it’s a little late for that. It’s noon already.”

“Are you trying to kill yourself or what?”

A shrug was the response, accompanied by a wince at the movement. “I had to use the necessary facilities outside last night, and I decided to stay out here because I didn’t want to wake you. It was a miracle I didn’t before.” I kept my face blank as I realized how far the toilet was from the room. Those couple hundred feet must have felt like miles in the condition Rengoku was in. People call me stupid for getting up too early after an injury, but that is just too much. I also scolded myself for being so unobservant. If someone had told me that a half-dead woman getting up in the middle of the night wouldn’t wake me up, I’d have laughed as I chopped their head off.

The woman stood up, leaning on one of her swords for support. I made no move to assist her. She hobbled her way slowly around the corner and to the door that led to the kitchen. “I hate doors. Somebody ought to kill the idiot who came up with them.” She mumbled to herself as she balanced precariously on the sword with one hand and reached out with the other to open it.

Just to ruffle her feathers, right as she reached it, I slid the door open instead. Rengoku glowered at me and slowly walked through the doorway. She slumped to the floor immediately. “Was that too much exercise for you, old woman?” I teased, grabbing a bottle of sake from the cupboard.

“Oh, screw you. No, wait, you’d enjoy that too much Cherry-chan.” I bristled at the virgin joke, though it was definitely untrue. “If I were you, I’d get out of the kitchen.”

“Make me.” I hissed, giving the mummy a withering glare.

All she did was smile at me menacingly. “Fine. Suit yourself.” Suddenly, all of the utensils in the small space shot up. They started flying in every direction. I ducked and dodged them until I was out of the firing zone.

“What in all hell are you doing, woman!” I asked, pointing to the flying mass of metal.

Her one visible eye was glazed over in concentration. “I’m hungry and I’m not going to eat your crappy cooking again. Go make yourself useful and get me some water from the well. Use that pot.” A grey pot shot right at me. I just barely caught it.
Stupid freaky woman with her goddamn weird powers. Who does she think she is, making me fetch her water? Jesus. I did as she asked, however, because I was hungry and the old man wouldn’t be back up with more food for a few hours at least.

When I got back inside, the pot flew out of my hand and onto the stove. “Grab me some leeks from the garden. They should be ready to eat by now.” As I left, I heard a couple of clanks as things collided behind me.

After a couple more trips for various vegetables, I finally sat down to drink the sake. I was getting ready to pour it when the bottle was snatched out of my hand. “It is rude to pour your own drink. Muramasa must have taught you some manners.” All movement in the kitchen stopped as she poured me out a cup. It resumed the moment Rengoku put the bottle down.

A half an hour later, the woman stood up and walked straight into the maelstrom of metal. She rustled through a few drawers and cabinets, all of which I noticed had metal handles. Chopsticks, bowls, and plates got set out on a metal dish. Narrowly avoiding several knives and a pot of hot rice, Rengoku made her way back to the table, the dish floating behind her.

“Down,” She mumbled, and the dish clattered to the table. “Ouch. That was loud.” The table was set and Rengoku sat down once again, her eye still glazed over.

“I apologize ahead of time if anything tastes weird. I’m still weak, so my concentration isn’t at its best. Heads up.” I barely avoided the giant wok and bowl of rice that darted over my head and landed a little quieter on the table than the last.

Begrudgingly, I dished out the food. The woman seemed completely exhausted from her feat, and her movements were still too slow. The food would have rotted by the time she was finished. “Itadakimasu.” We both mumbled before eating. The vegetable stir-fry wasn’t too bad, and anyone can prepare rice.

“So,” I said as I poured the woman a cup of sake, “All of your cooking utensils are made of metal so you can control them. Same with the handles on the cupboards.” It was not a question.

She nodded. “Usually I would be able to do more than that at one time without such noise, but my head is still a little fuzzy. But I’ve never like using metal plates and forks; somehow, everything tastes funny. How long was I out for anyway?”

There was no use in not telling her. “Five days.” It was silent beside our slurping and Rengoku’s frequent cursing at her inability to eat properly. Even using the hand that wasn’t burnt led to her dropping things because of the knife wound in her back. After a while she gave up on the chopsticks and summoned a spoon from a cabinet.

She let out a sigh and set down the cup, “Kyo, you really aren’t talkative, did you know that?” I snorted in response. “Where is Kurosaki-san?”

“In town… He said he would be back up at dinner time,” I elaborated when she seemed ready to throw a fit.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She said, slowly standing. The woman’s every bone seemed to creak and crack from the strain. Once again, Rengoku shuffled out the door and sat on the porch.

A few minutes later, I walked out saying, “You should clean up those dishes before they stink up the house.” No one heard me. The woman was out cold, leaning against one of the pillars that supported the roof of the house.

I went back inside, not even bothering to wake her. Better for me; at least she is quiet. I thought. The whole house smelled like the vegetable stir-fry, which was a lot better than burning flesh as it had been. So I went back to the room I had been in and sat at the windowsill, sake in hand.