Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Written in The Stars ❯ Chapter 1 The Best Laid Plans Part I ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Read the Authoress note

Para Lupe, con cariño.

Infinite thanks to Michaela, Fujifunmum and Midori, for help me with the chapter SO much. Thanks a bunch, girls!

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Kyoto outskirts, outcast section of the city, Late December1879 A.D.

The tall and filthy young man gave a last glance to the place.

He had been stuck during the last six months there. Greasy, entangled flocks of white hair crowning his head fell over his forehead, hiding from view his vigilant, sharp turquoise eyes. His gaze rested a little longer on the lonely crooked figure leaning against a wall. It was a bearded old man, surrounded by birds. A fishing pole, totally out of place, was resting on the old beggar's shoulder.

A pang of guilt coursed through his being at the sight of the other. He looked so fragile, bent by pain…

Maybe the older man's wrong choices had pushed both him and his sister to their tragic destinies in first place. However, he himself also had his share of responsibility in the sufferings of the other two members of the scattered family to which they both belonged.

In the end, the wrong choices of the three and their isolation in their own private little worlds had sealed the rest of their bloodied, painful, tragic lives.

As the beggar that he himself had become, he was wearing a torn gi. The old man had gotten it for him as protection from the cold winter nights in the outcasts' realm. He reached inside the garment, clutching a little parcel strongly; it was tightly wrapped in a clean cloth, to keep it untainted.

The small bundle contained his only private treasure, the link between a torn past and an uncertain future.

However, the time of sharing it with the old man was near.

The reading of the thin, cracked pages had brought understanding and enlightenment to him, becoming the healing balsam for his damaged soul and mind. Maybe, all these could flourish as self-forgiveness in the other man.

Slowly, he approached to the object of his later thoughts and asked him:

Are you ready? Are you sure?- The old man answered with a question of his own, looking him intently into his eyes.

They had discussed the wisdom of the younger man' decision, but to no avail. He had made up his mind, and he was as stubborn as when he was a little child, the older man thought, shaking his head.

The white haired young man answer was a brief nod. He took the other man by his shoulder, guiding him outside the land of the outcasts, starting with firm pace a shaking new path in their lives.

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The tall gaijin was standing outside the village of scrambled huts in Kyoto outskirts, waiting for the two men.

His distaste at the miserable looks of both men was reasonably concealed, though he couldn't help bringing his perfumed handkerchief up to his nose to avoid the unbearable stench emanating from the pair.

Nevertheless, he knew that under the layers of filth and tangled knots in the spiky white hair and the contrasting black beard of the younger of them remained crouched the old criminal lord. His unmistakable cold aquamarine stare still made him shudder, despite that the ever present menacing aura which used to linger around him was now amiss.

However, once a tiger, always a tiger, the foreigner thought. Therefore, he deemed it prudent to answer the unexpected call.

Of course, the belongings that he had held in custody for his client were inside the carriage. The Englishman jolted at the idea of giving them a ride in his transportation, but again, if he was asked to, he couldn't reject the demand. It could prove… unhealthy to him in the long run.

The banker wondered if the young man would claim his lost position once again. Yukishiro's defeat and subsequent mental breakup was not missed by his adversaries, and it could mean he would find unexpected opposition; one nobody would have dared to offer him a few months ago. Now they knew that the man had a weak spot, that he could be broken. And they surely would try to do it, because even if Yukishiro resumed a peaceful existence, he still was a dangerous demon killer, ready to jump from the shadows.

No, the former criminal lord would not enjoy a long life, the Englishman thought.

The turbulent weapons dealer had lived it fast, and dangerously, taking pleasures from power and wealth, obtained through bloodshed.

To live that kind of life had a price.

The young Japanese tiger would die a violent death for sure, in the middle of his golden years.

He smiled, shaking his hand when the man was close, shrugging mentally at his former thoughts. He was a banker, he asked no questions, and the personal activities of his clients were outside his concern. As long as they considered investing in his bank, he was a happy man entertaining no philosophical or moral doubts in his head. That was the secret of his success, after all… He was discreet, reliable… and a foreigner, an Englishman outside the Chinese or Japanese officials' authority.

Good morning, Mr Edwards Good morning, Yukishiro-sama. It's a pleasure to see you again.

Mr. Edwards always wondered how and where he had acquired such mastery in the English language. Yukishiro's flawless English was indeed remarkable and he had found very few Asians capable of such perfection while speaking in any Western language. He also knew that the assassin spoke no less than four other foreign languages, almost as fluidly as his own. There were sharp contrasts in the young man's background: a fine, educated gentleman encasing a wicked assassin… Curious indeed…

Almost as curious as the fine boned police officer with gleaming yellow eyes. At first glance, one could mistake him easily with a lower ranked official due to his untidy uniform, but it was apparent to the banker that his overpolite façade hid another man to be feared. That one had been asking lately about Yukishiro's activities, and he could not help but wonder how casual the young man's return truly was in the light of the policeman's presence.

Another man with flawless English, by the way… which betrayed his high ranked position among Japanese authorities.

He wondered if it was convenient to warn his client about the policeman, but he thought it was wiser to keep his mouth shut. If the police caught Yukishiro (as he was sure would eventually happen), and an interrogatory was served on him, he didn't want to be positioned like anything else but his banker. To warn him meant to be his accomplice in some level. The banker was a British citizen, he wouldn't go to jail, but to be caught in any activities besides his own financial ones would have meant the end of his profitable business in the country. While the Japanese officials could be understanding and close their eyes to his business (from which they benefited themselves from time to time) they wouldn't be tolerant or forgiving if he helped a wanted criminal in a more direct way, specifically one who had conspired to overthrow the government. To keep his money could be disregarded, but to provide him with any piece of information to escape the authorities, no matter how little that piece might be, would have converted him in Yukishiro's accomplice.

He didn't want that.

Five more years in that land forsaken from the Lord's merciful hand, and he would be returning to civilization as a very rich man. He could even aspire to be promoted to baronet status…

Nothing would stand between him and his bright future. Not even this refined but cruel man in front of him.

To his great relief, once he delivered his load to this man, his one-time client rejected his offer of being carried to a more respectable part of Kyoto. Then the young white haired man and his companion turned around and got lost in the narrow shadowy alleys.

Unnoticed to the British man and his leaving client, another two players in the game were watching their exchange…

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It was rather ironic that Yukishiro Enishi had landed finally in a place that similar to the one where he himself had sent his former Nemesis not so long ago.

However, more ironic than that was that the same man that had helped his despised enemy was the same one helping him now.

Maybe 'ironic' was not the right word, thought the tall, lanky man, lighting another cigarette.

He had never believed in fate or karma. However, this time he was inclined to think that fate's clutches had messed with those three men's destinies.

The disheveled old man was none other but the father of the woman that had marked so deeply the other two men's lives. They were all family, related by blood to each other in more than one way: the old man was father to one, father in law to the other.

Blood debts and kinship were not meant to end well.

Well, it was none of his concern. He only wanted to catch the younger one.

Yukishiro Enishi posed no threat at all to anyone now, all broken and without any purpose in life. To go after him was a waste of time.

However, he had orders.

Someone wanted Yukishiro's head, someone high enough to get Yamagata's signature ordering the capture and a quick parody of a trial with a prearranged sentence.

However, Saitou Hajime, the man better known as Fujita Goro, thought that in the end, he would be benefited by the capture of the ex-Triads boss.

Yukishiro's recently failed Jinchuu had left many unresolved leads to his Japanese contacts and clients, who where totally unknown to his former accomplice Wu Heishin.

The miserable Chinese worm had sung long and in full detail under the wise hands of the 'experts'. He received a report about his refusal to sleep due to the nightmares caused by his 'experiences'. However, as detailed as his 'reports' were, they still were full of holes, holes that only his old boss could fill.

The 'experts' would have a tougher time with the ex-Triads leader, but sooner or later, they would break him as they were used doing with all their assignments. No-one could resist them.

Walking casually, wrapped in the busy transit of mid afternoon streets, the lanky man followed silently the white haired and his companion. After a while and some minor stops, they entered an inn.

It was apparent that Yukishiro's injuries, physical as well as emotional, had affected his abilities, because the policeman could tell that the other man couldn't sense him being around.

That fact could provide an useful advantage, he thought. His aide, that good-for-nothing Chou (who was a lot less careful than himself covering his ki) might be useful this time, keeping an eye on both the criminal and the old man.

The former Shinsengumi wanted to know if the defeated assassin would contact any of his old acquaintances besides the Englishman. His goal was to close the net on him with more evidences and new leads to his past associates. That would make the hunt more meaningful, since he found no pleasure, no delight in catching a fake tiger converted into a defeated cat.

All the good adversaries had died during the Bakumatsu, Boshin, Seinan, and the smaller revolts. The last good prey was Shishio… and it was Battousai's trophy… A prize won by an ex-assassin devoted to a non-killing vow…

How unfair.

Irony or fate, someone seemed very pleased to play games with the last survivors of a dying age.

Anyway, his only concern was Japan's safety. Personal scores, as Yukishiro's, could only elicit his utmost contempt.

He resumed his walking, turning on the next corner. There was still a visit that should be paid before the day ended.

But first, he would make a stop in the Police Station. Chou had better be there by the time he arrived

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Kyoto City, Late December1879 A.D.

A lopsided smirk fleetingly crossed over Yukishiro Enishi's features, while he sipped his tea calmly, his eyes shut in relaxed concentration, sensing the world around him carefully.

So the Miburo was still on the hunt…

Typical.

After all, the former Shinsengumi captain had lurked in the shadows for a decade, waiting for any news on Battousai just to end their unfinished match on Kyoto's streets during the war… He wondered if both men knew that he knew about that incomplete affair…

Never mind.

Now it was of no consequence. There was no tactical advantage to be attained either from his knowledge or from any possible battle between them.

All those things were futile for the time being. Meaningless bits of information that held over from his tormented past into his uncharted future.

The only thing that mattered about that damn cop was that he had located and followed him.

Why?

He was not sure about his true intentions. He had sensed the Miburo going near him in the miserable village of the outcasts. It surely took him a while to discover his location, but the man knew he was residing there. The cop could have ordered his arrest anytime in the past two months. That was around the time Enishi first felt his presence in the place.

So why now?

Had the cop been waiting for his recovery, to complete his humiliation during the assured torture he would face in any interrogation? Did the last Mibu's wolf want him fully conscious during an execution? Was he conspiring with Battousai to give him the last bitter taste of defeat just before merciful death came to rejoin him with his beloved sister?

He would be damned if he let them savor such a victory. It was enough defeat to be faced with the truth about his own lame excuses for his Jinchuu.

He had known from the beginning that his sister's ghost had never been there.

He had known.

Now was the right time for admitting it.

However, he had consciously ordered his mind to think otherwise, that she was there, in front of his eyes, as his only beacon through the long night of the war and his first year in Shanghai.

Then, the power of the fantasy, which had helped him to focus on survival, had been so strong that he had become an addicted to it. It worked like the lucky charms of the superstitious gamblers, like the opium of the junkies, like the favorite toy of a child that helped him to sleep at night, tightly wrapped in his tiny arms.

He simply needed the delusion's presence to walk around every day.

Enishi needed her smile, he simply couldn't face the world without her standing by his side.

Therefore, he convinced himself that her smiling image was right there, just for him.

After the last six months buried alive in the dirty shacks in Kyoto outskirts, reflecting on and considering carefully the events in his last fifteen years of existence, now he knew for sure that Tomoe was truly before his eyes only one time after her death: during his last confrontation with Battousai.

Then the painful realization had hit him hard: she had chosen his murderer even in death over his blood, his family honor, and duty.

Because, after all, she was a woman weakened by love, as it was testified by her own words in the dairy.

Now he could admit that Tomoe's decisions in life were always guided by love. She had raised him in the name of sisterly love. She had run to Kyoto to avenge her lost love, Akira, but failed miserably when she betrayed her dead fiancé giving up her life to save the one who had assassinated him, just because the man had found a way to her heart.

Definitely, people who were carried away by emotions only cared about the source of them. He knew it firsthand, he thought with a bitter smile settling on his lips.

Enishi had been enraged with her at first, when realization crashed in him. Then he had escaped his imprisonment, ready to strike back, to finish the circle of retribution, if not in the name of his sister's happiness, at least in the name of his family honor.

But soon his burning rage turned into a dark abyss of endless depression.

Family honor?

Honor?

He had none.

Who was he to put his sister in trial?

In the name of vengeance, he also had left the boundaries of family honor and duty.

He vowed revenge in the name of his dead sister, and left his only living relative forsaken to poverty and the cruelty of the streets. He had failed his family even in that. Deserting the living in the name of the dead, in the name of a dead sister who didn't even appreciate all the pains he went through to be precise, had brought him and his family nothing but shame and pain.

In addition, she would have good reasons to be unhappy with him.

When they had finally met in Otsu, so many years ago, Tomoe had tried to tell him, to make him understand her change of heart. She had tried to guide him back to their family household, to his duties as the heir of a samurai family. Tomoe had failed in her own obligations, she had fallen, converting herself into a stained dove who could never come back, covered in disgrace and dishonor.

His sister had known all that, and had tried to make him realize this in her always subtle ways.

Enishi acknowledged to himself that he had understood her. However, it had proved useless, since no matter the motives behind her acts, he would have never accepted her decision.

Because as always, he never had accepted other ways, other ideas or decisions than his very own.

Enishi shook his head, admitting for the first time in his life how much of a spoiled brat he had been back in those days… exactly as he still was, to be totally honest.

However, that was about to change.

He had started a painful road to self-discovery, and no matter how brutal or blunt the discoveries, experiences or decisions he'd face on that path, his responsibility and duty towards his father, his sister and himself demanded his full commitment.

< Wake up, Enishi, the dream, the fantasy, is over. Time to grow up…You can't afford to remain the spoiled brat you used to be… >he thought wryly.

The world had stopped spinning for him during a cold winter day near Kyoto. And it was now, in Kyoto fifteen years later that it had started to spin again.

The awakening had been painful and disconcerting, in such brutal way that kept him still walking in the thin line between full sanity and complete madness.

Not that he ever had been completely sane in first place.

Hell, how was a mere boy supposed to stay within the boundaries of sanity after witnessing the horror of war? Even before Tomoe was split clear in half before his very eyes, he had stepped over the blood covered Kyoto streets, witnessing how man slaughtered man. He had learnt there the thousand and one ways of cutting gracefully another human's being limbs, while his eyes watched in awe many more atrocities, committed in the name of the nation, the Shogun, the Emperor, honor, loyalty and many other rather pathetic excuses to cause pain to other fellow creatures.

Enishi had seen during those days how old seasoned warriors broke apart at those sights. How was a young boy only nine years old supposed to stay untainted by such madness?

Impossible.

The last traces of any moral restraint or social limits of any type he once knew were lost within a month after his arrive to Shanghai, when he was forced to eat rats and rotten human flesh in the city alleys.

At that point, his only concern was survival, by either brute force or cunning strategy, because he had a goal, his revenge, and after losing all restraints, he stopped at nothing to get it.

Now, for the very first time in the last fifteen years Enishi had pondered seriously the necessity of letting go of the past, admitting to himself and the world he had been wrong, in goals and deeds.

It was not an easy task. Not at all.

He'd have to walk the opposite road to the one he had followed during all those years, learning to live among others, without taking what he wanted, when he wanted it, no matter how or the costs to be paid. He would have to learn the social limits all over again.

Most important, he would have to learn how to take care of another human being: his own father.

Enishi sighed at the prospect, looking at the snoring form laying down on the futon, placed across the farthest corner of the room.

He brooded over his recent meeting with the man.

When he had first met him, still too stunned by his defeat and the words of Tomoe's diary, he had realized immediately that the man was someone from his distant past. At first he had thought of him as an old member of the Bakufu, someone he could have met during the days of the war. However, as the time progressed, he noticed some familiar patterns in the other man. Then, the dreadful feeling of being used as fate's toy again had settled in the pitch of his stomach.

Enishi recognized him as his father a few weeks after their first meeting. He had refused to give his name to the old man for a while, fearing a betrayal from an stranger, yet one night where he was specially vulnerable, he told the elder man his name and Tomoe's. The shocked expression on his face, and the silent crying he tried to hide during the night gave Enishi the first clues about the other's identity, and within the next days, the man consciously put new leads on his path. At last, they implicitly recognized each other for what they truly were, but avoided the subject. He did not call him father, nor did the man call him son yet.

The painful state of the man had turned the much-fantasized reunion in which he would express his hatred to the man's rejection of both him and Tomoe during his childhood, into a meeting of search for forgiveness and mutual support.

Time and pain had changed his father, and his inflexible adherence to etiquette of his younger years. Now the old man might have forgotten the proper ways to behave in court or before the daimyo, but he was sound in wisdom.

Anyway, wisdom was a rare gem seldom sought by people in those days. On the other hand, 'civilized' ways were the measure by which it was decided who were allowed to live among the ordinary people, and who ended in the huts of the outcasts.

Outer looks were all that counted in the world they were living in, so the first thing they did after leaving the shacks was to buy new clothes and go to the public baths.

He had to cut his hair to fairly decent proportions mostly due to the monstrous greasy knots in it. He also trimmed his beard leaving only a few inches of hairy surface around his features, just to help in a change of looks to avoid police's hunt for a little longer.

The old man was an entirely different situation.

His father had offered no trouble when he carried him to the public baths; in fact, he was delighted at the mere idea of being clean again. Nevertheless, when he found his ragged clothes gone and replaced by new ones, the old man started to grumble bitterly. Anyway, when Enishi tried to cut the other man's hair or trim his beard, the other's refusal bordered in a whole new concept for a tantrum… and he knew a bit about those.

Never mind, there was no way in Hell the old one could escape his sealed fate. Enishi would force him to cut his hair and his beard, even if he had to gag and tie him up to get the job done, things that he also knew pretty well how to do.

Silently, as the great cat friends and foes had compared him with, he got on his feet, and reached to the parcel the Briton had given earlier to him.

In the first box, there was enough money in cash and bills of exchange to live decently for a while. It would help them while he found a way to leave the country safely.

To stay in Japan was not an option. China was too dangerous, even if he was not dragging the old man with him. Enishi could say the same about the whole of Asia. He had sold weapons to very nasty people, and many other nasty persons would be very happy to put their hands on him. Not to mention some governments such as the English, French and Russian. That limited further options in Europe too, and even in distant British colonies as the wilds of Australia.

The United States of America was also out of the question. There was a huge Chinese community there and the possibility of being recognized by anyone who would turn him to his enemies was huge.

Africa was another place they had to scratch from their list. It was full of English colonies (that would mean trouble in the long run, without a doubt, a Japanese man wouldn't go unnoticed for too long…).

It left open few options for them: if he thought of moving to Europe the choices were countries such as Holland, or Germany where he had some acquaintances residing, or the more exotic Spain, Portugal, Greece, Central European countries or Italy. Then there were the possibilities of Central and South America, the mysterious continent he had no clue about… yet.

Well, he would make the decision on their way to Nagasaki, where his European contacts was situated.

Meanwhile, he had to find a way to trick the Miburo. He had an idea, but with the damn reluctance of his father to be commanded without questioning, it could be very hard.

The old man had very few clues about the life he, his only surviving child had been leading and the true extent of his crimes. His father knew that the police were after him, but not exactly why. Maybe it would be wiser to give him some leads. Enishi sighed. He did want to spare the old man the pain of hearing the tales of his bloody past after leaving Edo…

Well, he'd find a way to tell his father about his 'connections' and the risk they were facing, avoiding any gruesome details as long as he could.

His first concern was to keep them both safe, especially the old man, since he was not only his own father, but also the man was innocent of his son's sins.

Enishi absently opened the other box. The silver-plated, six-shot guns shimmered as twin gems on the black velvet covering the box's insides, two small bullet boxes besides each of them. It was not his chosen weapon for a fight, but a hidden gun was more useful when one was fleeing trying to go unnoticed by authorities, than a large watou. Anyway, inside the European style cane that the Briton had delivered to him, a thin blade was concealed. It was made in the Japanese style of forging by a true swordsmith master, and though it couldn't match a true katana in a fight, it was enough to cut through the lower quality sabers of Japanese police.

Enishi didn't want to engage in any fight if it was not strictly necessary, but if forced, he wouldn't hold back at all.

It would be enough to carry just one gun with him. He'd have to make sure the old man took the other. It wouldn't be easy, but he was an expert at mind games, he would convince him for sure…

The Miburo was gone, but a clumsy guard had taken his post. Anyway, they'd not attack him this night.

Now, it was time to go to sleep. They had a long trip before they could be truly safe, and it would just start with next day's sun…

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The visit had been a shocking breach of etiquette, thought John Blake-Edwards, renowned and honorable banker, subject of Her Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria of Great Britain. The man was taken aback at the now impolite and smirking police officer that was sat in the hall of his house.

He would present a formal complaint to the authorities as early as possible in the morning.

I must say that I am bewildered at your presence in my house at this hour of the night. It is quite irregular. The matter at hand requires it.- said the man with the strange gleaming yellow eyes. I will request of you to quit your smoking habits in my house. I have precious antiquities in this place that could be affected by the smell and the smoke.

The tall man stared at him with an evident amused glint in his eyes, and smirked, just before taking a long drag from his ever-present cigarette.

This is… this is… outrageous!- the Briton exploded Could you tell me what were you doing this early afternoon in the outskirts of the city?-

The police officer cut off the banker's indignant outburst, keeping his tone plain, not low or high, but the menacing edges were still there. The Englishman looked at him with his eyes wide open in surprise.

The police knew…

Did you know that the man you met today is a wanted criminal? Did you know that he conspired to overthrow the Japanese government? I think you are aware of this. We had shared a chat about this man not so long ago… You… you are mistaking me with someone else…- Edwards was trembling-Today I was just here. Somehow, I don't think so. - The mockery in the Japanese man's voice indicated to the Briton that he was in real trouble- You know that we are well aware of your links to Yukishiro. I am a British citizen, and… Did you or did you not meet him today?- The tall man stood, towering over the banker, with his menacing, glowing amber eyes fixed on him. Suddenly the Englishman felt like a rabbit about to be eaten by a big predator. Y-yes…- the Briton finally admitted- However, I have already given you all the information you requested about his accounts and the business that I managed for him in the country… I have nothing else to… What did you give to him today? What were the contents inside the parcels? I… I do not know… When he was here a few months ago, he gave me those boxes and the cane, to keep them for him as a personal favor. The boxes were sealed, so I do not know their contents… Who will he be contacting besides you? What else has he asked from you? I do not know… I do not know… I… I only kept his money, and sent it to European banks or received it from other accounts he had outside Japan… and he also entrusted me with those two boxes…

<Those eyes…oh, those unbearable eyes… I am a foreigner, he will not dare to kill me… or will he? Oh, God… This man is dangerous… If I talk and Yukishiro escapes afterwards, he will peel me alive, and if I do not… I do not want to know what this man is capable of doing to me…>

He might be preparing to leave the country via Nagasaki…- said the banker, whimpering, now terrified, trying to get any sympathy by collaborating. Is that so? How interesting… I really do not know anything else… I swear it… The authorities know I only do legal business. It is not of my concern where my clients get the money… I only make sure to follow the procedures required from me as a banker… Please, I have been not involved in anything illegal myself… I am not aware of Yukishiro's activities. I only received his money… please… It's of no consequence right now. Go get your coat, make sure it's thick enough. The weather can be cold on the sea, and the trip is a long one to London… W-what?- if the Englishman's face was colorless a few moments before, now it was translucent The Meiji government has found you guilty of association with known criminals who have been conspiring in the past to overthrow the legitimate rulers of the country. Therefore, and due to the bonds of friendship with your country, we've chosen to solve the affair in a discreet manner, with the approval of British authorities. I carry an order, which commands me to bring you to Osaka's harbor personally. There, your Consul and a British ship are waiting you. You are not allowed to stay in Japan any longer and you are forbidden to return forever. All your possessions, houses, financial records, money, articles of art, are being confiscated in the name of Japanese government. You are allowed only to carry your clothes, that is, the ones you are wearing now and a coat. Now, I'll give you ten minutes to be ready for our departure. After that time, I'll drag you in pieces to Osaka. Do I make myself clear?

All that John Blake-Edwards' mind registered while he was running to get his coat amid hysterical crying, was that he would never come back to England as he had dreamt.

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He had left the inn early in the morning, to work out some details in his plan for running off the Japanese police and the stubborn Miburo.

In other times, and circumstances, Yukishiro Enishi would have found it amusing to play cat and mouse with his clumsy 'stalker'. The Miburo had to be very confident about his breakdown to put such a pathetic element on his tail, he thought suppressing the urge to smirk…

Anyway, Enishi had gotten what he wanted. He could make a reasonable dye for his hair with the herbs he had bought. Then, he also got the wax the Europeans and the Japanese borrowed from the 'enlightened' habits of the West used on their hair and moustaches. That would flatten his unruly hair enough to make his distinctive looks go unnoticed. In addition, and most importantly, he bought all the ingredients in separate shops. It would take a while for the Miburo to figure what he was up to, but the same task would be surely impossible for his underling….

It was a rather exhilarating sensation to start planning and plotting again; it made him feel alive.

Yet, this time his mind was not plotting for destruction but for survival, hoping for a second chance in life, including his only living family.

He sighed, recalling the old man waiting for him at the inn.

His father finally surrendered earlier that same morning, and accepted having his hair cut and beard trimmed, just before he left the inn to run these errands.

Still, if they were closely watched, there was an unmistakable family air flowing between the two, yet he was sure that the dye and the wax would be enough to cover those hints, even for a trained eye

He also got new clothes, European style, for both of them. Moreover, and not less important, he had got two counterfeit passports, which would allow them to keep a decent facade. These two last pieces of their disguise were really expensive, but the superb quality of the documents was worth the price. Anyway, he had more money in London and Le Hague, and a little box well provided with South African diamonds in Amsterdam. He also had many other investments ( all legal) and smaller accounts in various European and American banks, totally untraceable to his enemies and adversaries. And if necessity required it, he could always rely on Edwards or his contacts in Nagasaki and Yokohama.

The papers would let him pose as a merchant, traveling with his aide, a role his father had to learn how play yet. It would be an acceptable cover to find passage on any Dutch steamship leaving the country from Nagasaki.

Though Nagasaki's golden age as the chosen port by the Westerners to enter Japan had passed long ago, it still was a good center to get safe passage to the West.

Enishi was not sure about their final destiny yet, but they definitely should be leaving Kyoto that very day.

He had the distinct sensation of impending danger hanging on his head, a danger that would not come from Saitou Hajime, his men or even the Meiji government.

Since the moment he had left the shacks with his father, the hairs on the back of his neck had been standing on their ends. Though he couldn't detect anyone besides Saitou's man, Enishi knew that the threat didn't come from him.

It was frustrating to have such a diffuse feeling of being stalked by someone or something beyond the scope of his capacities. The sensation, however, was dispersed, not centered, it was almost as if it didn't belong to a living creature, which made him to feel more uneasy. Maybe Battousai's onmitsu friends could also be involved, but he highly doubted it, he would have known it.

In any case, the situation required quick action. He and his father were in danger if they stayed in that place, they had to move and soon.

Enishi's first choice would have been to leave at night, but he was ready to take the risk to go on their way as soon as they could. They should leave just after lunch.

He only hoped the old man didn't blow up their cover…

His pace quickened. A few more blocks and he would be at the inn…

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Four hooded figures were moving silently forward, merged in the shadows provided by the narrow alleys and streets, walking among the people without being noticed, as ghosts or demons chasing the unaware ones' souls. It's him.-whispered one, who seemed to be in charge Are you sure?- the taller one inquired Positive. There is no doubt.- answered the first one Well, let's do it. Wait a minute. We need a distraction. There is someone else on his trail.-said the one in charge. I'll take care of him…- a cruel smirk crossed the face of the third man No. The boss said no deaths.- the first one talked again. They are only humans…- the second one commented I already know it. And I don't care about them at all, but we have orders.- the first one insisted. I hope that this one is worth the trouble. The last one only lasted ten minutes. They are too weak- The fourth talked for the first time I can feel in my guts he will be more than we bargained for…- said the first man. What do you mean? He is nothing but human scum… He felt us. Since yesterday.- affirmed the one in charge. Are you kidding me? It's impossible- said the second one. No, this one is special. The boss told me to be careful. And I bet the tall man from yesterday also could feel us… I'll report that to the boss. Maybe we can hunt that one too. Look! He is coming this way…- pointed the fourth Perfect. There is a hawker between our position and his. You, go pass beside the vendor and throw his goods just after he passes you.- the first one instructed to the second- Then the rest of us will take him down amid the confusion and the watcher won't ever know what happened to our prey…

Everyone took their position. And their target moved into the trap…

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Enishi noted the first hooded figure when he was approaching the hawker's post.

It was an ambush; Enishi felt it in his gut. Long years of experience told him that. He assessed the situation quickly.

The man coming his way would use the stall to create a diversion, to catch him off guard. His hand moved discreetly to the gun hidden in his clothes, making it ready for the attack. Well, he had a surprise for that one…

Saitou's man was almost behind his back; there was no chance of returning through that path. Apart from those two, another three hidden attackers had taken positions.

Though they seemed to be professionals, their attitude was too relaxed, as if expecting to catch him easily.

He was not in his old superb shape, but he was still far better than them, that was sure, and therefore they'd be the ones easily caught. It would be a tight encounter, but there was no doubt in Enishi's mind that he would get through it more or less intact.

Then, he would have to make it as quick as possible to the inn to get his father out of there and move into the wilderness immediately, avoiding the usual routes, the villages and cities on their way to Nagasaki. The change of appearance could wait a few days. He'd do it near Nagasaki… or as circumstances required.

The bag on his shoulder balanced slightly, to favor his movements in battle, and to be used as a shield if necessity arose. Besides, he couldn't afford to lose it, the passports and the items he had gotten that morning were in there. Besides, although he had left most of their financial recourses at the inn, he still had some money they would need for their trip in the bag. They couldn't afford to waste even the smallest coin, especially now that bribing corrupt police and state officers sounded in his mind more as a consummated fact than a remote possibility.

The attack proceeded as he had expected, the first hooded man (he had assumed they all were males due to their height and apparent complexion) bumped on the hawker's stall causing confusion among the passersby, while the other three cloaked figures jumped forward towards him, taking advantage of the turmoil. Saitou's first observer didn't move. Probably, he'd act as a back up, or to oversee the job.

Moving with calculated grace, he stepped aside, disconcerting his attackers. One of them, though, recovered faster than expected and pointed some kind of gun to him. He didn't think about it twice and shot his own weapon at his target, who took the full impact of the bullet on his chest. The thunder of the blast provoked an instant of panic, and then the place collapsed in a mixture of chaos, cries, shouts, and people running everywhere.

The three attackers froze for an instant, which Enishi made use of to sprint to safe place.

Enishi couldn't hear them but they exchanged some words in a rather metallic kind of language, and two of the cloaked men ran behind him, while the third took aim with a gun at the fallen comrade, and shot.

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Chou had been trailing behind Yukishiro since last night. He was tired, hungry, and bored. Anyway, one did not question Saitou Hajime's orders if one's goal in life were to enjoy a long life, so he took his post, grumbling in annoyed resignation.

He sighed in contempt.

Chou was sure the guy knew he was following him. While observing Yukishiro during his failed revenge attempt on Himura, he learned that the man was as slippery, capable, and cunning as his former boss Shishio-sama. Yukishiro could be a major psycho, in a way quite different of Shishio's, but boy, you had to admire him…

The guy has spent the whole morning entering shops, buying things and he even managed to lose the former Juppongatana twice for a few minutes during those hours. Chou admitted that he had no clue about the use that Yukishiro would give to half the things he had bought. They were mostly herbs and some strange substances. Chou didn't even want to consider the possibility of the man trying something similar to what he had seen in the Yokohama's house basement. He shuddered at the memories. Anyway, the fucking masked freak who played with dead corpses was sharing tea in hell with his own dolls of rotten meat.

Chou was lost in his musings when everything seemed to erupt. Four cloaked men attacked Yukishiro. Probably old acquaintances wanting to clear old feuds. Chou felt torn in his duty. If he stepped in to help the guy, he would know for certain who Chou was and he might kill him to get freed from Saitou's surveillance. On the other hand, thought the former Juppongatana, his other option was to let Yukishiro save himself… or die trying. If the last thing happened, Saitou would be furious at him, because the Miburo would have lost his last chance to clear all the ties in the Shishio's affair. Releasing a mental shrug, Chou decided to take the chance. After all, Yukishiro seemed quite capable of handling the situation…

Suddenly when one of them seemed ready to shoot down the white haired man with a sort of gun, Yukishiro shot his own concealed weapon, and in a blink, the tall man seemed to disappear while the world exploded in a confusion of screams and people running.

Two of the attackers ran behind Yukishiro, while the third remained with the wounded. Chou was about to start running behind the other three men, when he saw something that made the images he witnessed in Yukishiro's Yokohama hideout pale by comparison: the towering cloaked figure aimed a gun to the wounded one and shot. It was a sight Chou was used to. After all, wounded co-workers in the office could lead to an arrest. It was a risk of the job… However, what was not common was the sight of the body being shot, melting and disappearing as if the man had never existed.

Chou blinked in disbelief. Who were those guys? And more importantly what kind of weapons were they handling? Saitou would become furious when he received the news. Just when he thought he had Yukishiro's weapons' ring finished, these guys, linked somehow to the former Triads' boss appeared with those things.

Anyway, Chou decided that he would keep safe distance from those guys. To face Saitou's katana suddenly seemed more appealing than to be melted by those guys.

He moved cautiously trying to stay undetected by the cloaked man, who ran to meet his companions.

Finally, the man turned in a corner… and vanished.

Chou looked in every creek, crevice and crack he could find around the place, and the only thing he got was a bag.

Yukishiro's bag. Without its owner to be seen anywhere around.

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Tokyo, Earth, Late December 1879 AD

Snowfields blinded his vision with their whiteness.

It was strange. He was dreaming about her again. It had been months since his last dream involving her. Since the nightmare of her brother's revenge finished, to be precise.

No trees, no blood tainting the thick cold mantle this time. Only the soft, icy flakes falling around him, never touching his body.

She was there, he knew it. Something important should be happening to make her come back after their last good-bye. Would it be a new threat? Was his brother in law plotting again?

Kenshin turned to face the pale face of his dead wife. She looked very sad.

I'm sorry… has he committed…? No… He is gone… Has someone…? No… He.is.gone. He has vanished… He was there this morning… and suddenly he was no more… I tried to find him all day long, but it was useless I don't understand… Neither do I… Kenshin, I plead to you for your vow to protect the weak… I plead you for the protection of my father… Your…?

Kenshin suddenly remembered the hairpin he'd seen on Tomoe's grave, when he'd been visiting it with Kaoru. He had asked himself then if there was any other living relative of his late wife. Now, things were clicking into place…

Yes, my father, the old man that helped you in Rakuminmura. What?! He was… Yes… and he knew who you were. Now you have to help him. He is in danger. Where is he? He is in Kyoto, in an inn… I don't know which one, I couldn't identify the place… The city has changed so much from those days… but Enishi chose one not too expensive to avoid suspicion… Enishi? Was he with Enishi? They met in Kyoto, as you both met in Tokyo, in similar circumstances. The diary and my father helped my brother to recover his mind. He was planning to leave the country with our father, and while he was doing some errands this morning, he was attacked. Yet, he was not killed. I'd know it, believe me. Now my father is alone, but the Shinsengumi we once crossed in Kyoto was following Enishi. I'm afraid he might hurt my father. Please, go and protect him from the last Miburo walking free on Kyoto streets.- her figure started to fade Don't worry, Tomoe. I'll go for him.

The snowflakes stopped falling, and the whiteness of his dream changed to the darkness of his room. Suddenly he was fully alert. With long trained reflexes, he moved in the dark looking for his clothes and changing into them silently.

He took some items and in the fashion of the Hitokiri he once was, Kenshin slipped from his room into the kitchen. He left a brief note behind, only announcing his return in a few days.

Then he started his trip.

The road to Kyoto was a long one…