Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Alchemy of Gold and Silver ❯ Perplexed ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5: Perplexed

 

From caring comes courage.

-Lao Tzu

 

***

 

Misao watched the two of them traverse the forest with a burgeoning interest. She had never met the Kaoru-chan of Sano's stories, but she had a feeling this girl was her.

 

Her treetop vantage point allowed her unimpeded observation of the pair. The trick was to move quietly. It was an odd thing, but people never seemed to look up. Ahead certainly; the cautious looked behind and the reserved down, but nobody ever looked up.

 

One of Misao's favorite parts of being a spy was this sort of pure reconnaissance. It was interesting, the things people did when they thought nobody was watching. Sometimes, it was funny, at others, sad, or happy or strange. It was also fun to know what someone else was doing, without them even having a clue you were there.

 

Of course, that wasn't something she would ever tell anybody. Okina-san would make a lewd joke about it, and Aoshi-sama would tell her she was being immature. If he said anything at all. She bit back a sigh of frustration. No matter what I do, it's never enough to make him see me the way I am. I'm a woman now, darnit, not some little girl!

 

Her frustrated internal monologue was cut somewhat short when her marks stopped. Misao crept closer, trying to catch any words that might be passing between them.

 

Sano was speaking. “Well, missy, I have to leave ya here for a bit. I've gotta go find the boss and make sure it's okay to let you know where the base is.”

 

Misao squinted to get a better look at the young woman's face. She didn't appear to take this particular piece of news very well. “What? Sano, you said it was all taken care of. Why do I have to wait around for somebody's approval?”

 

Sanosuke rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, ya see, missy, you've kinda gone and thrown regular procedure out the window. You know about the Oniwaban before they know anything about you. Normally, we bring possible recruits by the hideout before they know what it is. If our leader likes `em, then they get to know about us. I can't very well just waltz you into the building like this.” Catching sight of the growing anger on his companion's face, he hurriedly pressed on, “Look, it's just a formality. Our leader's kinda paranoid about this stuff. You'll be fine.”

 

Kaoru snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Paranoid? Is that why he sent someone to follow us?” Misao nearly fell out of her tree. How did she know I was here? Of all the people she'd tried to follow, only Aoshi, Sano, and Okina had ever known she was there.

 

“Oh, Misao? Don't worry about her. She just likes to stick her nose where it doesn't belong.”

 

That does it! Misao leapt to the ground in front of Sano and his friend, both of whom seemed rather unfazed by her sudden appearance. “Hey, you! I'll have you know that Aoshi-sama sent me here himself!”

 

It wasn't until Kaoru raised an eyebrow that Misao realized her mistake. “So, your leader's name is Aoshi, is it?”

 

Misao could have kicked herself, but she refused to let it show on her face. Instead, she decided to bluff it. “Yeah, so? That's not any special information or anything,” she lied.

 

Kaoru merely shrugged, giving no indication as to whether she had believed the falsehood or not. Sano just shook his head.

 

“Well, Misao, it's good that you're here. You just watch the missy while I go and see the boss about this, okay?” Without waiting for a response, Sanosuke turned and disappeared down a forest trail. It was actually deceptively tree-lined around here; the city proper wasn't more than a five-minute walk from where they were standing.

 

Misao heard a soft sigh and refocused her attention on the girl beside her. The one called Kaoru's face seemed slightly irritated, in the manner of someone well used to it. Misao guessed they were around the same age, though the other's very blue eyes held a sort of guardedness that she was sure wasn't present in her own reflection. The young ninja couldn't say why she thought so, but it seemed this girl kept many secrets, not all of them her own.

 

“I hate it when he does that,” Kaoru said, offering a wry smile.

 

Misao shook her head. She knew exactly what the swordswoman meant. “Men,” the young ninja snorted, “They go off and do things without properly telling you. Sometimes they just forget, like you're not important enough to keep informed, and other times they think they're protecting you or something stupid like that.” She huffed, crossed her arms, and promptly sat in the dirt at her feet.

 

Kaoru's right eye appeared to twitch slightly, but Misao couldn't tell if she'd imagined it. “I actually just meant that he really doesn't think things through all the way, and I usually suffer for it. But I suppose your thought holds true too, sometimes.”

 

Misao rolled her eyes. “You obviously know different men than I do.”

 

Kaoru's answering smile was indulgent. “Would you like to talk about it?”

 

The kunoichi considered. Is it okay to tell her more about Aoshi? He is the leader of the Oniwaban, after all. And I don't know if I can trust her or not. Still, Sano seems to. And if she didn't know it was Aoshi... Misao decided she could really use someone to vent at right about then.

 

As Kaoru sat down beside her, Misao took a deep breath. “See, I have this friend…”

 

***

 

Kaoru listened to the strange girl tell her story with some amusement. Misao's “friend” was clearly the girl herself, and this mystery man she waxed eloquent about was of a type she knew well.

 

“If it helps,” she offered when Misao paused long enough to breathe, “overprotectiveness is usually just a really annoying way of caring.” At least, I hope it is. Otherwise… she shook her head, causing Misao to look at her oddly before responding.

 

“Yeah, I guess. I- I mean, my friend- just wants him to know that she's strong too, you know?” Misao sighed and clasped her hands behind her head, laying back on the ground.

 

“Definitely,” Kaoru smiled. There was a pause, then: “Misao, what exactly is it that the Oniwaban do? Sano tells me they're anti-war, but you employ fighters, don't you?” She hoped her new acquaintance could tell her; if she met with one more “don't worry about it,” or “it'll be explained later,” she was going to scream. And probably kill Sano.

 

Misao's green eyes flicked in her direction, catching her gaze and holding it for a few seconds before she answered, “fighters, spies, politicians, you name it. Anyone that can help bring this stupid war to an end. Most of them are only loosely associated with us; we are a secret organization after all. The core group is fighters though.”

 

Kaoru frowned. “But how does hiring fighters help stop a war?”

 

Misao looked as confused as Kaoru felt. “You mean you don't get it?”

 

The taller girl couldn't help but feel a little offended. “I said I didn't, will you please explain it to me?”

 

Her counterpart smiled. “No need to get so touchy. It's just, Sano told me you have some philosophy about fighting to protect or something. We don't, necessarily; sometimes group members do kill people, but we're not soldiers. We serve as bodyguards and spies for antiwar government types. It's kinda dangerous not to take sides, you know?” Misao seemed to be growing more enthused about her topic, and she started to ramble on about additional functions of an Oniwaban member.

 

Kaoru, though, had stopped listening. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared hard at the hands folded in her lap, white-knuckled from clutching at each other in an attempt to keep herself in the present. The memories hadn't threatened quite this badly in some time; if she wasn't careful, she'd end up reliving that moment right here. As it was, she knew to expect the nightmare again tonight. The peace she had come to about her father's death was not yet complete, and the recollections were still occasional visitors to her subconscious.

 

“Hey, Kaoru, are you listening?” Misao had sat up, and was about to wave one hand in front of her inattentive audience's face when she suddenly seemed to snap out of it. “Man, you kinda zoned out there. Everything okay?”

 

Kaoru relaxed her hands and smiled. It was false, but Misao wouldn't know her well enough to tell. “Yes. I was just thinking how good it is that the Oniwaban can do that for people. I wasn't sure before, but I think I really want to join now.”

 

“Well that's good, `cause I've got orders to bring ya there,” came another voice from behind them.

 

“Sano! That must have been quite the short trip,” Kaoru remarked, a genuine happiness replacing the false one. Sano had that effect on people, it seemed.

 

“Yeah, well, the boss wants to get this over with,” he replied cryptically, shrugging.

 

Kaoru rolled her eyes. It seemed he wasn't going to give her a straight answer today. She supposed she should be surprised at how much she had gotten out of Misao. Then again, the girl didn't seem to be too careful with her words. It was probably hard to guard so many of them.

 

“Awesome!” the would-be spy exclaimed. Pumping one fist into the air, she started forward at a pace best described as a march. “Let's go then!”

 

“Not so fast, itachi,” Sano replied. He held out a hand in Kaoru's direction, from which dangled a narrow length of black cloth. He looked at his old friend almost apologetically. “Boss says you have to go blindfolded. Just in case, you know, the interview goes badly.” He attempted a sheepish smile.

 

Kaoru just glared. “Absolutely not.”

 

***

 

Ten minutes later found Kaoru being led, blindfolded, through the forest by a bouncy Misao. Sano had attempted to be her guide, but as soon as he had placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, she had used her ki sense to find him and punch his arm. She was in the process of twisting it when the bubbly ninja had intervened.

 

Sano was now leading them both, walking more than an arm's length in front of Kaoru so as to avoid further retribution. She hadn't actually done him any harm, but he didn't really feel like risking it. The missy was a spitfire when something made her mad. He just hoped Aoshi would be prepared for the consequences of that, because there was no way he was taking the blame for this one.

 

Within another ten minutes, they had reached the outskirts of Kyoto. Sano kept them to the Oniwaban-controlled alleys and streets, making sure that nobody outside the organization would notice a gi-clad woman being led around in a blindfold. Kaoru may not have been aware of it, but her very occupation as a swordswoman was unusual enough to attract the wrong kind of attention. A random samurai might not alert the authorities, but a female carrying a sword dressed like a man would surely reach the ears of the Shinsengumi, or worse, the Isshin Shishi rebels.

 

Going the long way meant taking extra time, but it wasn't something that Sano minded given the situation. Kaoru at last consented to his help when the reached the back entrance of the Aoiya and was made aware that they would be ascending some stairs to reach their destination. Between himself and Misao, Kaoru managed the climb with as much dignity as she could muster until they reached the door to what served as the organization's meeting room, which was just behind the kitchen. Here, Misao removed the blindfold while Sano knocked.

 

“Enter,” came the smooth, flat voice of Sano's commander. The young man cocked an eyebrow at his friend, who nodded resolutely. With a casual shrug meant to reassure her, Sano slid open the door.

 

Aoshi and the old man Okina were both seated in front of a low table, drinking tea. The Oniwaban leader had enough respect for their visitor to remove his weapons from his person, but they were laying within arm's reach. He wore his usual blank expression, and did not speak as the three others entered. If he was surprised to see Misao, he did not indicate it.

 

Sano bowed in the cocky, casual way that was his style. He knew that Aoshi vaguely disapproved of his lack of proper manners, but the man was a pragmatist to the core, and certainly would not give up someone as useful as Sano for the sake of formalities. Misao's own bow was hasty, and perhaps a shade too enthusiastic. Okina grinned when he saw it, and Sano knew the old pervert was having difficulty not making a comment. Kaoru's was crisp and neat, and she removed her swords from her obi, giving them to Sano as a sign of deference to the Oniwaban, and seating herself directly across from the still unmoving Aoshi.

 

***

 

Kaoru found herself in a rather awkward situation. She had guessed that Aoshi was the man's given name, and without his family name, she could not properly address him. He, on the other hand, did not seem particularly inclined to speak at all, whether he knew her name or not. I suppose I could just introduce myself, but… Somehow, that seemed like the wrong idea. For the first time in her life, she lamented that she had very little experience with people who weren't her instructors. Her father and Hiko-sensei had always been quite direct, and certainly not this taciturn.

 

Him just looking at me like that is really getting annoying. Under Aoshi's scrutiny, Kaoru was suddenly aware of the fact that there was still dirt on her gi from the road, and that she probably needed to bathe. And eat. Still, he can't be totally different from Hiko-sensei, right? I mean, he's a fighter, too… And so, ignoring his gaze for the moment, she put her own observational skills to work.

 

Hmm… two kodachi. Short range, but quick. He's tall, so his arm length probably makes up for some of the disadvantage. The old man's clearly a warrior, too, but he sits in a position of deference, so this guy's in charge… which means he must be good. He's no older than twenty-five. He clearly inspires loyalty, and not just in Misao. Even Sano listens to him.

 

Pleased at herself for figuring this much out, Kaoru finally met Aoshi's blue-grey eyes. While his face wasn't terribly expressive, she thought she could get a basic read on him. Swordsmen were all alike after a point; the discipline and resolve at the core of martial arts ensured that. She thought he looked the tiniest bit puzzled at the moment, though his gaze lost none of its sharpness. Still, she met it without fear or hesitation, willing her intentions to be made clear and readable through that common ground.

 

Her peripheral vision told her that her two companions were getting fidgety; Misao was downright nervous. By contrast, the old man looked like he knew exactly what was happening, and the small smile on his face was growing wider.

 

“Hn.” It was a small sound, but it seemed to break the tension as much as the silence, and Kaoru softly let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

 

“My name is Shinamori Aoshi,” the tall man continued.

 

Kaoru inclined her head. “Kamiya Kaoru.”

 

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, as though he were rethinking something, though it was not he who spoke next.

 

“Heheh,” the old man broke in, “what an interesting surprise. Koshijiro never told me he had a daughter.”

 

Sano snorted. “I think we all know the reason for that, you old pervert.” Misao snickered, but Kaoru wasn't really paying attention. “You knew my father?”

 

“Oh yes, and your master, too, once. You know, I never thought Hiko would take on another apprentice after what happened to the first one, but now I think I understand.” There was something in the elderly ninja's expression that she couldn't read, as though he knew something she didn't.

 

Of course, he probably did. Hiko-sensei had been reluctant and evasive the one time she brought up the matter of his former apprentice, who she deduced had left no more than a day before she had arrived.

 

“I only know that he left to fight in the war,” she said carefully.

 

Aoshi's eyes were cold when he replied. “That is one way to say it. He now works as a hitokiri; doing the dirty work for the Isshin Shishi.”

 

“Oh.” Kaoru wasn't exactly sure what she should say to that; it wasn't as if she had known the man. She didn't even know his name.

 

“Tell me something,” Aoshi continued, “why do you seek to join the Oniwaban?”

 

Kaoru's hands clenched her dark blue hakama. She took a calming breath before she answered. “Because I want to protect people. That is the single purpose for which I was trained. To use a sword to save lives.”

 

Aoshi seemed to think for a moment, then stood, putting a kodachi in each side of his obi before looking down at her. “Idealism like that will only get you killed. Our mission is to end the war at all costs. You should leave. The blood of the naïve will not stain my hands again.”

 

At this proclamation, the room erupted. Within a few seconds, everyone who had been sitting had leapt to their feet, and Misao and Sano were both yelling, each trying to be heard over the other.

 

“What the hell! You can't turn her away for a stupid reason like that!”

 

“Aoshi-sama, you know that wasn't your fault!”

 

Even the old man entered the fray. “Aoshi, what happened to Hannya and the others was unfortunate, yes, but-”

 

“Enough.” Aoshi's voice was barely audible, but it effectively silenced the room. “Idealists die. That's all. I will not send any more to an early grave.”

 

Kaoru, who had recovered one of her swords from Sano, was clutching it with white knuckles. To say she was confused was an understatement. One thing she did know with certainty, though: this man's statements did not fit the attitude of his subordinates. His mission-at-all-costs attitude was much colder than she knew Sano to be, and she had a feeling that Misao wasn't like that either. For some reason, this made her angry. What kind of leader thinks like that? “It's better to die for what one believes than to lose those beliefs and be dead inside.”

 

***

 

Aoshi heard Misao make a small noise, but he was unable to do anything but stare blankly at the young woman in front of her. Am I really…? Before he could carry that train of thought any further, she continued.

 

“Still, I understand your point. What if I promise not to die?” She looked hard at him, and for a few moments, neither spoke. He watched with a detached interest as a sliver of silver appeared at the rim of each iris. Curious. He knew he should refuse, but something, something about what she had said had set him to thinking. It was true, he had few close relationships with any of his subordinates since those four had died. Surely, though, that was for the best? Yes, definitely. And he would need more than a promise before he would let someone so fiercely committed to an ideal into his organization.

 

As though she were reading his mind, she held her sword out in front of her, parallel to the ground, then drew it just a fraction. He noticed that it was strangely-constructed; the blade was clearly on the wrong side. His attention was drawn back up to her face, though, when she spoke again.

 

“Then consider it not a promise, but an oath. On this sword, and on the honor of my father who gave it to me, I swear to you that I will not throw my life away. I will see this war through to the end, and I will do it without betraying either my father's philosophy or your trust.” She pushed the sword back into its saya, and bowed deeply, formally before him.

 

He chanced a glance at the others. Misao was looking at him expectantly, and Sanosuke had a look on his face that betrayed his familiarity with this girl's determination. Okina's grin looked like it would split his face at any moment. His eyes moved back to Kaoru, still bent at the waist, waiting for some kind of response.

 

As much as he wanted to refuse, the pragmatic aspect of his personality knew that he could not. The Oniwaban was shorthanded as it was, an addition that also happened to be a student of the near-legendary Seijiro Hiko wasn't something he could turn down. Aoshi said no, the leader of the Oniwabanshu said yes.

 

“Ordinarily, I would have your martial skills tested before we sent you into the field. As it is, we have not the opportunity. In three days' time, you will be sent on your first mission. Do whatever you feel is necessary to prepare.” She straightened, eyes returning to their normal color as a small smile appeared on her countenance. He did not wait for a reply, merely walked swiftly out of the room, the sound of Misao's excited squeal following him out the door.

 

“This is so exciting! You'll have to share my room with me; I just can't wait!”

 

Dead inside… A miniscule frown creased Aoshi's face. What had she meant by that? He'd have to find out someday. For now, though, there was urgent business to be attended to. Everything else could wait.

 

***

 

Kaoru hefted the wooden rod across her shoulders, struggling to keep her feet when the weight of the water buckets on each end proved to be more than she had anticipated. Beside her, Sano offered an easy smile as he managed the same feat without any difficulty. Kaoru just rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Who'da thought we'd be doing labor, eh missy?” He jibed gently. The two of them had been assigned a mission together; apparently this wasn't uncommon. Despite his rather ruthless words, Aoshi seemed concerned with keeping his subordinates alive.

 

While she appreciated that he was trying to distract her from her sore shoulders, Kaoru was able to offer little more than a grunt in reply. It was taking much of her focus to keep putting one foot in front of the other, given that they had been running water back and forth from the river like this virtually all day.

 

Sano didn't seem to mind her lack of conversation. “I wonder how much longer we'll be at this. I mean, the doc's doing great work, but it's been a week, and there's nothin' to say he's a target…”

 

Kaoru considered it, her brow furrowing in thought as the two continued to trudge down the rutted dirt road to the camp. The two of them had been assigned protection duty for a doctor. They had shown up at his door in just enough time to follow him out of it and onto the nearest battlefield. The aging man had not seemed particularly happy to see them, but once they had explained their presence, he had told them his story: he regularly visited the aftermath of battles to tend to any still alive and properly bury the dead. That was what the buckets were for: they needed as much fresh water for cleaning wounds as they could get.

 

Sano, apparently especially fond of the sound of his own voice today, was still speaking. “I mean, I get that they don't want some guy curing people from the other side or whatever, but most of these guys aren't gonna be well enough to fight again. Why would anyone bother killing him?”

 

Kaoru shrugged, a rather unnecessary and painful gesture in her current position. Wincing a little, she tried to keep her tone from betraying her discomfort. “As a message. Whether or not it's doing any real harm, he's defying both sides by not choosing one. Neither wants to be thought of as weak enough to let that slide.” She could not keep the bitterness out of her tone, though she refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, not really seeing the single small tent that had been erected in the area, a splash of white on the ruddy, blood-stained ground.

 

Sano sighed and shook his head slowly. “Yeah, I guess,” he conceded. “But hey, that's why we're here, right? We're not gonna let it happen, so cheer up missy.”

 

His friend couldn't help but smile at the spring in Sano's own step, and wonder at his ability to maintain his own special brand of levity in the worst of circumstances. Still, she couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that today's apparently favorable mood had less to do with natural good humor and more to do with the doctor's daughter.

 

Their first day with Dr. Takani, they had met his assistant, who also happened to be his only remaining family. Sano had been quite taken with her silky black hair and warm eyes; Kaoru's first thought was that Megumi was the kind of woman that men wrote elegant odes to. Indeed, her pale, soft features and the natural red of her lips seemed torn from the pages of the poetry Hiko had introduced her to: old tales of unattainable love.

 

Needless to say, she hadn't been terribly impressed, and their few exchanged words had been cool at best. It wasn't until they had reached the site of what must have been a pitched battle that things had changed. Kaoru had watched with a growing respect as Megumi and her father had gone to work, swiftly gathering all those who still lived, even as the fires died down and the last of those who could still walk limped away. Never once did the woman complain, even though she spent hours at a time cleaning wounds and performing field surgeries that would have made Kaoru squirm had she been that close to them. Her brown eyes had held instead a fierce determination that the younger woman sympathized with.

 

So for the last few days, relations between the two had been friendly, if fatigued. Sano and Kaoru were doing all they could to help, but it was still two doctors against what seemed a thousand cuts and hundreds more putrid infections and gods only knew what else. The tent smelled of decay, and every time Kaoru entered, she found herself immediately wishing to leave.

 

Sano set down his burden and detached his wooden buckets from their pole, pushing open the tent flap, letting out those awful smells and a few groans of the dying before disappearing within. Kaoru followed suit, trying not to wrinkle her nose in distaste as the full sensory experience of the cramped, dark space assaulted her.

 

Megumi rose from where she had been kneeling by one of her patients, and Kaoru envied the woman's grace, that even in a situation like this she should seem so elegant. The young doctor offered a wan smile, but said nothing as she moved to the next motionless body.

 

The tent flap lifted again, and the elder Takani sidled inside, hefting some water that had been heated over the fire. Catching sight of Sano and Kaoru, he grunted.

 

“You two. You're supposed to be bodyguards, right? Get my daughter out of here and make sure she sleeps. She won't do anyone any good if she's dead herself. Trust me, I'm a doctor.” His tone was gruff, but he was the kind of man who had laughter just beneath the surface. At least, once he finds out you're not a soldier. Kaoru nearly cringed at the memory of the initial misunderstanding. That man could be downright intimidating if he chose; he was about as tall as Sano, and possessed of burning black eyes. Kaoru almost thought he could see into her soul, but that was silly, wasn't it?

 

“Father! Let me stay,” Megumi protested, “There are too many for you to tend by yourself.”

 

The doctor harrumphed. “Sanosuke-kun can help me for a while. Besides, a letter arrived for you a while ago. You should open it.” He moved past the three, and Sano shrugged, following him, giving Megumi a sidelong glance as he passed. Kaoru would have to remember to tease him about that later.

 

She was pondering the possibility when she noticed the look on Megumi's face darken considerably. I wonder what's up with her…

 

Nevertheless, the older woman did not argue further, and stepped back outside without a word, Kaoru following just as silently, surprised to find that the sky had lost a great deal of its light. She hadn't noticed it on their way back from the river, probably too lost in thought. So much for being vigilant… Speaking of which, where was Megumi? Kaoru glanced around frantically until she found the younger Takani again, and she could have sighed with relief.

 

The woman stood by the large fire the group had made for heating the water to sterilize it before use on the wounded. It also served as a cooking fire in the evenings. Beside it lay the rudiments of their nonmedical supplies: dried foods and utensils on a piece of cloth, that ridiculous sword Sano insisted on carrying, writing supplies, and shovels.

 

Her attention was drawn away from these thoughts, though, when Megumi suddenly cast something into the fire. Kaoru darted to her side; it was clear from the frown etched on her face that her charge was upset.

 

“Megumi-san, what…?” But before Kaoru could inquire further, the frown was gone, replaced by a passive expression that betrayed nothing.

 

“It is no matter. Just a bit of unpleasant news.” As if to stave off any more questions, Megumi yawned. “Father was right. I'm quite tired. I think I'll retire for the evening. I'm sure you can find some way to amuse yourself, Tanuki?” She cocked an eyebrow infuriatingly and smiled slyly when Kaoru scowled in response.

 

The swordswoman rolled her eyes as her companion gave that annoying laugh she had and walked off. Ooh, the nerve of her! Whether Kaoru respected her or not, the doctor sure knew how to make a person mad sometimes. Still, that letter…

 

On a hunch, Kaoru grabbed a nearby branch and began to poke at the fire, trying to find the letter. She knew she was being a busybody, but she didn't feel the last bit remorseful. If something had made Megumi that worried, it was her prerogative as a bodyguard to find out what it was, right?

 

Unfortunately, by the time Kaoru fished the remnants out of the flames, there was only a tiny piece left. It looked like the bottom corner. Blowing off some ash, Kaoru brought the fragment to her face.

 

“Takeda… who's Takeda?” she wondered aloud. The given name was too smudged to read, and so only the family name was legible. Whoever this Takeda person was, he had upset Megumi a great deal. She turned and watched as the woman in question disappeared into a second, smaller tent hidden behind the first. The doctor and his assistant made use of that one in shifts. Pulling the two sakabatou from her obi and placing them on the ground within arms' reach, Kaoru herself settled down in front of the fire. She had probably better get some shut-eye herself. Sano would doubtless wake her when it was her turn for the night watch. The young woman smiled a little as she recalled the first time they had journeyed together. That had been just over four years ago now, and much had changed. Her eyes wandered to the fire, and she stared into the dancing flames for a while, fascinated by their ceaseless movement. So inconstant, so violent… and yet there was a fierce beauty in them.

 

Her last waking thought was that she would have to ask Sano if he knew anyone named Takeda. Tomorrow…

 

***

 

“Kaoru!” She was abruptly jerked form her sleep by a harsh cry. Sitting bolt upright where she had been lying an instant before, she tried to determine the source, willing her eyes to clear, every nerve on high alert.

 

“Kaoru, quick, my sword!” Sano! Without waiting for an explanation, she took the few strides necessary and hefted the huge thing in both hands, swearing under her breath when her sore shoulders protested. I swear to Kami-sama, Sano, if you just carry this thing around because it looks cool… Her straining ears caught the sound of breaking bone, and guessed that her partner had probably just dislocated someone's jaw. Come on, you stupid…! With a last great effort, she pulled the sword out of where Sano had plunged it into the ground- why, she had no idea- and swung it so that the flat of it rested across her right shoulder. Groaning at the weight- there's no way this is useful, even for someone like him- she nonetheless managed to dash at a respectable speed to where he was attempting to fight off ten men, dressed in the all-black uniforms of an Isshin Shishi strike squad.

 

“Sano!” she yelled, alerting him to her presence. He turned, and she slid in past one of his attackers, allowing him to take the hilt of his massive blade and leverage it off her person. As soon as he had taken the weight, she drew her father's sword and swung it in one fluid motion into the unfortunate soul who'd thought to take advantage of their momentary distraction.

 

Turning briefly to Sano, with a mind to use some pithy phrase to indicate that they should hurry up and get this over with, she instead felt the words die on her tongue. He looked… afraid. Her own eyes widened; she'd seen Sano when he knew the odds weren't on his side, but he'd always faced it with a grin, or at least a sort of grim determination. Never fear.

 

As soon as his blade was well in hand, he used it sideways to take out five of the guys in one swoop. “Kaoru, you have to find the Takanis! There was a hitokiri with these goons! I'll hold them off, you protect the clients!”

 

Kaoru swallowed. If this was indeed a strike squad, then it made sense that there was at least one assassin among them, but she didn't feel entirely comfortable leaving Sano to deal with this lot alone.

 

“Go, damnit! Our mission is to protect them!” Sano swung his sword a second time, knocking down three more, but the first five were already beginning to stand up again. Kaoru tore her eyes painfully from the scene, suppressing the powerful desire to stay and fight with her friend. Sano could handle himself; she had to believe that.

 

Taking a deep breath, she launched herself forward at a sprint, breezing past more soldiers as she headed for the tent. That was where the doctors likely were; most of the patients were stable enough to be without constant care, and the elder Takani was probably as exhausted as his daughter.

 

She didn't get that far, though, before she found them. In the clearing she had just vacated, Megumi was kneeling next to the prone form of her father. Kaoru couldn't tell if he was dead or not; she guessed from Megumi's behavior that he was barely clinging to life. The woman seemed to be applying pressure to a wound in his side, but she wasn't focused.

 

Not that Kaoru blamed her. Megumi's usually serene eyes were fixed, horrorstruck, on the gleaming katana poised to strike them both. Without time for further consideration, Kaoru drew her own blade and dashed headlong to meet their assailant, who paused in his attack before turning to meet her assault.

 

His block was flawless, and Kaoru was jarred by the force the two swords created as they met. Satisfied that she has the assassin's attention, she swiftly disengaged and leapt back to better consider her opponent.

 

***

 

The Battosai allowed the girl to retreat. The female doctor was working frantically now to restore her father to consciousness, but that could be dealt with later. Always eliminate the largest threat first. That way, there would be no surprises. Satisfied that the strike squad Katsura had insisted he take had the other guard in hand, this… woman was the threat now.

 

Even though she didn't look like one, the Battosai knew she was. Not many fighters moved with that kind of speed; while it did not match his own, it was still troublesome, mostly because he had no idea who she was. The Isshin Shishi had data on all notable samurai working for the Shogunate, and even most of the ronin, and he had studied them well.

 

Apparently, their collection was incomplete. Such a thing, though, was of trivial importance. She couldn't be notable if she was dead.

 

The two circled each other for a few tense moments. She was clearly trying to put herself between him and his targets; he was content to let her. The swordswoman did not seem particularly inclined to attack, however; she looked at him with an unguarded expression of confusion. This, too, he allowed her. Perhaps if she recognized him for what he was, she would flee in terror from the battle she could not win. The Battosai was a finely-tuned instrument of death, but she was not in his contract.

 

And so in return, he studied her as well. A simple white gi and dark blue hakama; nothing to identify an organization. Her hands gripped her peculiar sword with familiarity, but they were shaking. That, coupled with her obviously youthful face and guilt-free bright blue eyes marked her as unbelievably green in the area of real combat. What a waste. She was going to die on her first battleground.

 

“Who are you?” the question surprised him, not so much for its content as its tone. There was no accusation in it, merely curiosity.

 

“I do not give my name to those I kill,” he replied cryptically. Whether this was because he did not want the name his master gave him to be associated with who he was now or because he had simply lost all need for one, he did not know.

 

“Hitokiri Battosai,” a voice spat. The female doctor's face was contorted with rage. “People like him are the reason my father has to do what he does.” She glared at him coldly, but he simply looked at her until she was forced to avert her gaze. People always had to, eventually.

 

“Battosai…” the blue-eyed one shook her head, as though this seemed somehow incorrect. The assassin said nothing. His patience was beginning to wear thin.

 

“You're not in the contract,” he began flatly. “So if you leave now, you won't die.” Truly, it would be easier just to kill them all now, but the shred of a certain idealistic teenager that still remained within the ruthless manslayer would not allow it unless the extra was given a chance to flee.

 

Rather than the cowardly acquiescence he was expecting, however, the statement seemed to affect an entirely opposite change in the girl. Her hands steadied, and she stepped in front of her companion, hiding the doctors from his view. She sheathed her sword, then used her thumb to loosen it, settling back into a battojutsu stance smoothly, one hand hovering over the blade's hilt.

 

If he had remembered how, the Battosai would have laughed. Why confront someone with their own eponymous style? It was the height of foolishness. Unless she actually thinks she can win… no, she believes she must. There was no other explanation for the hardening of the naively open face.

 

Well, if she was serious about this, then he would be too. He fluidly shifted back into his own drawing position, almost a mirror of hers. The next part of the fight was always a waiting game. To the untrained observer, it would look as though the two of them were merely standing there, doing nothing. In reality, the fight had already begun. The air was almost perceptibly thick with ki, each subtle shift revealing something of the one to whom it belonged.

 

Despite the unquestionable knowledge that he would win, the Battosai found himself grateful that he had not tried to dispense with her immediately. He would have likely found himself with some wounds for his trouble. His opponent was stronger than he would have guessed based on her inexperience. Few people possessed such a subtle, fluid ki, and it confused him. Even now, as they were about to begin a duel to the death, he could sense no killing intent, no inclination to use the sword so expertly grasped in one hand. If the ki of a master was a carefully-contained firestorm, hers was a gentle rain. How is such a thing possible?

 

He decided that it didn't matter. It was odd, how he had to keep reminding himself that she was inconsequential, that she was going to die anyway. These thoughts firmly in mind, he slid his sword out of its saya in a motion too fast for the eye to see.

 

Though she was a little slower, the time it took him to close the distance between them was enough, and the blades clashed midway between their bodies. She angled her sword so that his began to slide off; he swiftly regained control and struck again, harder this time. Once more, he was parried. Her defense was strong, and she seemed to be able to anticipate his movements, which surprised him. His style was highly unusual and passed to only one person at a time. Surely, she had never encountered it before.

 

And yet, he was finding that the same applied to him. Though some of the defensive moves were different enough to be unanticipated, he found that he was blocking her infrequent attacks on muscle memory more than instinct. Unsure what this meant, he disengaged and leapt back.

 

She had clearly drawn the same conclusion, and was regarding him with puzzlement, and then something that was a little too close to comprehension for the Battosai's comfort. It seemed that this strange girl knew something he did not. He was slightly put-off when he noticed that during the course of their exchange, her eyes had changed color. He knew all about altered ki-states, of course, but rarely had he encountered someone else with one. The situation was changing too fast for his liking, and the Battosai decided that he needed to end the encounter now, before something else that he could not account for occurred. The sooner he could wash his hands of this girl's blood and the entire affair, the better.

 

Aware of what to expect now, he lunged, catching her off-guard. She had clearly been waiting for him to say something, unfortunately for her, and was barely able to stave off his attack this time. The subsequent set of blows, while all parried- just- had her backing up at each contact, almost to where the doctors were, and the last move managed to slip past her guard and score a shallow cut on her shoulder. I should finish this, he thought dispassionately, readying himself for the final series of strikes.

 

***

 

Kaoru willed herself to focus, to fight harder, but she knew that it was a losing battle. Already, the sweat was running in rivulets down her back and sides, and some was making its way dangerously close to her eyes. The blood from her wound was soaking through her gi, and the sight and smell of it was making her a bit woozy.

 

Her mysterious opponent, however, seemed largely unfazed. Kaoru was a good enough swordswoman to know when she was outclassed, but she refused to give up for two reasons: first, if she did, he would kill her, Megumi, Doctor Takani, and Sano as well, and that was flatly unacceptable for a number of reasons. Secondly, she was pretty certain this was the man that Hiko was referring to when he said “baka deshi.” Though she questioned the wisdom of calling this man by that name, there was no other explanation for why he was using the Hiten Mitsurugi style.

 

Of course, knowing wasn't the same as understanding. He was surely Hiko's successor, and yet nothing like their master. This man was colder and more ruthless than Hiko ever pretended to be, and there was no doubt in her mind that he fully intended to kill them all. It took but one look at his molten gold eyes to tell you that. Eyes so very much like the fire she'd been staring into before she slept. Violent, unpredictable… and captivating. She shivered. The cool of the night air had penetrated her gi, and the moisture sliding down her back only served to exacerbate the problem.

 

She was fading fast, and she had the feeling he knew it. It wouldn't be long now, and he'd win. She'd die. The knowledge bothered her greatly, though she felt no fear. Somehow, she just couldn't believe it. She had far too much to do before she was allowed to die! So then I won't, she thought simply, remembering her oath to Aoshi. Why couldn't it be as easy as that? She narrowed her eyes and returned to the immediate present, only to find that her opponent- the Battosai, Megumi had called him- was clearly distracted by something. She considered taking advantage of the opportunity this presented, but decided against it. Instead, she followed the golden gaze. Seeing nothing, she was confused, until she heard the sounds of mass chaos. There was no way that kind of noise could be produced by the thirty or so people in the camp, and that included the sick men in the tents.

 

Kaoru was further surprised when Sano burst into the clearing from behind one of the tents- several of the Battosai's men at his heels. He slowed abruptly as he caught sight of the scene, eyes narrowing as he regarded the assassin. Whatever impulse had brought them there, though, soon won over, and he ran to her side.

 

“Missy, there's more coming,” he said hurriedly. “These guys say they aren't with them.” He looked distrustful, but if he was right, they didn't have much choice but to hope the Isshin Shishi were telling the truth. Eleven might be possible for the two of them to deal with, but whatever was making that racket sure wasn't.

 

“Is it the Shinsengumi?” the Battosai asked one of his men, though he pitched his voice enough for Kaoru and Sano to hear.

 

“No sir,” one of his soldiers, a man of middle height with a traditional samurai topknot, answered. “We believe they are under the employ of Takeda Kanryuu.”

 

“The crime lord?” the redhead betrayed no confusion, though Kaoru knew he must be at least somewhat perplexed. It made absolutely no sense. Unless…She stole a glance at Megumi. The doctor's motions had stopped entirely, and her face was paralyzed with terror.

 

“Megumi, you need to tell me what's going on,” Kaoru said firmly, snapping the woman out of her reverie.

 

The younger Takani shook her head. “Does it matter? He's come for me, but he'll kill us all. That's just the kind of man he is.”

 

Topknot nodded in agreement. “They already got Yamada and Kawasaki,” he affirmed.

 

“Th-they've got a Gatling gun,” another, younger soldier put in fearfully.

 

“What are your orders, sir? Should we abandon the mission?”

 

The Battosai's eyes narrowed, and all the men except Topknot shrank visibly from the glare. Even the latter looked decidedly uncomfortable.

 

“You stay here. I will deal with this myself.”

 

***

 

The Battosai made to walk away, but the troublesome girl stepped into his path. He glared at her, willing her to leave him alone, but she didn't back down.

 

“No, you won't,” she said firmly. “This is my responsibility as well as yours.” Fierce silver eyes burned into his own with an intensity that surprised him. He would maintain for some time afterward that it was the shock of someone defying him that caused him to look away and continue on without a word, instead of refusing her.

 

“Sano, stay here and protect Megumi-san,” he heard her say behind him. Her companion made a sound like he was about to protest, but was likely silenced by the same glare.

 

The two of them crested the nearby hill, and the Battosai understood why such a loud force had been undetectable for so long. They were using the terrain to their advantage, and the amount of noise they were making right now had likely led his two unfortunate men into a trap when they climbed the small mound to investigate. The plan was flawed: they had clearly counted on only the two bodyguards, and so had revealed themselves at the sight of two fighters. Now, they were on the move again, not bothering to mask their presence.

 

“Looks like they think they've already won,” the girl put in from beside him. He nodded slightly and unsheathed his sword, intending to climb to the top and make his existence known. He personally had no need of surprise; better to terrify as many of them as possible before killing those brave enough to remain.

 

Whether she guessed his intent and agreed with it or simply did not care he couldn't say, but the swordswoman followed him. They stood on the high ground, looking silently at the line of men below, waiting for their presence to be noticed. There were about fifty of them, all told, and the one in charge was indeed manning a Gatling gun, a recent invention that the Isshin Shishi had been keeping close track of.

 

“See that?” he asked his steely-eyed companion.

 

She nodded slowly, confusion written on her face. The moonlight was glinting off her eyes in a way that made them almost luminous, and he found himself momentarily distracted by the strangeness of it. Shrugging it off, he elaborated, “It fires pieces of metal at high speeds. Dodge if you can, block them if you cannot. Too many blocks will destroy your sword.” He wasn't entirely sure why he was telling her this as though he cared if she lived or died, but decided it was for the strictly utilitarian purpose of keeping her alive long enough to help him. Not that he needed help.

 

Regarding his own sword, he began to rethink that last. It wasn't a particularly good weapon; one of his master's practice blades really. Still, he'd never needed another. Now, though… one bullet could do it.

 

The girl tilted her head sideways. “That doesn't look like it'll last long,” she commented casually, “you should use this.” She pulled a second, sheathed blade from her obi, and held it our towards him.

 

He knew immediately upon taking hold of it that it was finer than any katana he'd ever held; finer even than his teacher's blade. The balance was near-perfect, and the gold-chased hilt fit perfectly into his sword-callused hand. But there was something… off about it. Loosening it a bit, he exposed about three inches of the steel.

 

“The blade is on the wrong side,” he began dismissively.

 

“It's not designed to kill,” she rejoined, “but it can still do heavy damage.” The smile that accompanied this was both smug and friendly, and he again marveled inwardly at the alien nature that suffused everything this girl did. She entered into duels without the desire to kill, carried two of the finest swords he had ever laid eyes upon, yet dressed so nondescriptly that she could pass for any average samurai, gender notwithstanding.

 

And she met his eyes without fear.

 

Keeping his katana in his obi, he added the other without further comment, to the sounds of shouts from below.

 

“Well, it's about time they noticed us,” the girl grinned. Her comment was accompanied by the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire, and the two of them separated, putting about thirty feet between them to make a less easy target for the gunner, who was cackling madly and raving about riches or opium or something. The Battosai didn't heed him regardless.

 

The pair made their way through the ranks in flashes of steel and luminous eyes, tracing parallel paths through soldiers, moving faster than their opponents could keep track of. Numerous as the enemy were, they possessed no large degree of skill, making them easy targets. The gun was more of a problem, since the mechanism allowed for rapid firing. The gunner was less than accurate, however, and as a result, many of the bullets flew wide and erratic.

 

It was the Battosai who reached the madman first. Bringing his sword down upon the man's clavicle, he heard a crunch as the bone shattered, and the bespectacled smuggler crumpled in a heap.

 

Takeda Kanryuu… the man was on Katsura's hit list, certainly. The Battosai replaced the sakabatou in its sheath, and drew his katana.

 

 

“No!” The shout caused him to turn. The girl's last opponent hit the ground with a heavy thud, and she closed the gap between them in less than a second.

 

He stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

 

“You don't have to kill him,” she started, eyes wide.

 

“He is a wanted criminal,” the Battosai replied. “Why shouldn't I?” Nonetheless, he lowered his weapon.

 

“Because you aren't the law,” she replied firmly. “A samurai is not an executioner.”

 

He shrugged; this argument was useless. “And I am not a samurai.” I'm nothing but an assassin.

 

“I don't think Hiko-sensei would be pleased to hear you say that.” Her expression was downcast, and her tone muted when she said this, as though it were somehow hurting her to do so.

 

For a moment, he was unable to speak. It had been a long time since he had heard that name, been reminded of that part of his life. For four years, he had been nothing but the Hitokiri Battosai. He had thought Seijiro Hiko's student long dead.

 

“He was my master, too,” she whispered. “But I do not practice his style.” Their eyes met, hers hovering somewhere between blue and silver now. “He trained you to be a samurai, not an assassin, of that I am sure.”

 

The Battosai allowed his face to betray nothing. Still, she continued. “Take him prisoner,” she suggested. “Surely, he has some kind of information that you want. I'll take one of these,” she gestured to the prone forms on the ground, a pleading note to her statement.

 

The Battosai considered. “And the rest of them?”

 

“Will have concussions-” she looked at his opponents- “or broken bones. But they'll live. The Takanis will treat them. They were probably just hired help anyway. There's no need to kill them.”

 

Why he acquiesced, he could not explain. His mission had been to kill the Takanis and get out. He had utterly failed at that, and all because of this girl. He should finish what he started. Instead, he removed the borrowed sword and held it out to her. She shook her head, an odd expression on her face.

 

“Hiko-sensei wanted you to have it, I think,” she said. “He also wanted me to tell you that he's still waiting. Farewell, Battosai.” She turned her back on the scene, and began to ascend the hill once more.

 

“Himura,” he said by way of reply. She stopped, and looked over her shoulder. “My name… it's Himura Kenshin.”

 

The last bit of silver slipped out of her gaze, and her face softened once more into the childlike innocence it had possessed before as a bright smile blossomed on her countenance. “Then, farewell, Himura-san.”

 

She was back to the camp before he realized he had no idea who she was.

 

*******

Kiku's Corner:

 

So, what do you think? I promised you they'd meet in this chapter. I had to make it REALLY long to get it all in there like I wanted, but I managed it. Any comments on Kenshin's or Aoshi's character (or any of them for that matter) will be much appreciated as I continue to write.

 

I realize I left a couple things unresolved, but that's what the next chapters are for. That, and introducing some more people! Any theories or guesses as to what will happen next? I always love to hear what people are thinking.

 

Okay, with the reviews plug over, I'd like to thank all the readers and Beth, Queen of All Things Awesome, for getting this massive chapter edited in less than 24 hours. Can your beta do that? Lol.

 

Next Chapter: Some Yahiko, some more Misao, some Saito (maybe), and some Kurogasa, and of course more Kenshin and Kaoru awesomesauce. Later!

 

~Kiku~

 

Japanese for Beginners:

 

Hitokiri- literally “person-killer,” or assassin if you like.

 

Saya- sheath, for a katana.

 

Oniwabanshu and Isshin Shishi- active organizations during the Meiji Resoration period in Japanese history. My usages are far from accurate, though, so don't use them in history class or anything.

 

Tanuki- raccoon-dog, or a rather unflattering nickname for Kaoru.

 

Itachi- weasel, or the same for Misao.

 

Gi- the top half of the traditional martial arts gear worn by Kenshin and sometimes Kaoru in the manga.

 

Hakama- bottom half of the same.

 

Kodachi- short sword. Aoshi dual-wields them.