Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ That Voodoo That You Do ❯ Mistaken Identity ( Chapter 10 )

Kenshin stared blankly at the police chief, before blinking, and once again trying to accept what was going on. He failed. "Oro?"

"Yes yes. Well, she's dead now, so you can't really ask her to retract her will now, can you? But it seems, Mr Himura, that this woman claims to be the maternal aunt of the Hitokiri Battousai, and has left her entire estate to you."

It refused to sink in. All Kenshin wanted was to sit in the temple and find inner peace, but then he had been stopped by Police Chief Muraki and brought to the station, only to be informed of his `inheritance'. Kenshin found this somewhat scary and disturbing. He was a wanderer who owned nothing beside his reverse blade sword. He was not `Lord Minamoto' by any stretch of the imagination.

"I'm sorry, but there must be a mistake. I'm a wanderer, not a noble, that I most certainly am not."

"But its all here in black and white!" the paper was thrust under Kenshin's nose. "You can read it yourself if you like."

Giving his polite decline by stepping backward, Kenshin once again stressed his wish to have no part in the error. He turned to leave. The police chief sighed, "Any other man would give his right hand for this opportunity, Mr Himura. I beg you to reconsider!" But Kenshin wasn't having any of it, leaving to continue his own routine.

Unknowingly, he passed a hidden Megumi in the street. In her pocket, she was squeezing the fragile neck of the Kaoru doll in frustration, before cruelly kneading its stomach to the point she could feel the other side of the fabric. The more she dwelled on the evil being who had done this to her, the more rage brewed in her soul.

`How dare… how dare anyone cut my hair? Whoever it was, I'll make them sorry! I'll make them pay!' she turned the corner for a shortcut down an alley and was met with a disturbing sight as she witnessed the self fulfilling prophecy she had helped to create.

A man held Miss Kaoru to the wall by the throat, yelling at her, punching her stomach. Kaoru's wooden sword for practice lay discarded on the floor, as with the other items she trundled from lesson to lesson. The man appeared to be on his own, a renegade mugger, and Kaoru caught off-guard.

Megumi Takani had never touched a sword in her life - let alone used one. Still keeping her head down so as not to be recognised, she thought it was better she ignored her Hippocratic oath as a doctor this once for the sake of the greater good, or rather that of her friend. She cleared her throat behind the rogue. "Excuse me." She grunted in her most put on masculine voice, which remarkably came out sounding rather like Kenshin to everyone's surprise.

Predictably, the thug turned round. He was a tall but meaty fellow, but on seeing a person smaller than him interrupting his revenge on the woman of Battousai the manslayer, went to hit them too, keeping Kaoru still against the wall. Remarkably, Megumi blocked with the wooden sword, before counter thrusting in his unmentionables.

The man gave a high shriek, and dropped Kaoru to the ground, tending to his own damage. Kaoru took a slump, but remarkably was still remotely conscious if not a little incoherent with the new influx of heady oxygen to her system. Megumi dropped the wooden sword, and her bag of hair, and went about getting Kaoru back to safety.

MEANWHILE

The very thing occupying Saito's thoughts on a slow day was perhaps the very last thing anyone suspected. As there was nothing better to do, he spent his morning fashioning a little wooden sheath though it came out looking more like a wooden sword by the time he finished with it, especially for the mini effigy.

During his lunch hour, he had enough time to nip home with it, plus test the scale against one of Tokio's own dolls, and get something quick to eat before returning back for the afternoon duty. Undeniably more than ever on dragging days such as these he missed the excitement, adrenaline, duty and protocol of the revolution.

The only thing he had now were memories, a score to settle with the Battousai, and a sky blue uniform gathering dust in a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. Despite what Tokio said, he refused to throw it out. The government was still young and unstable. In his heart, he secretly believed that one day, he would need to wear it again.