Blades, Knives, Steel and Mettle
The End and the Beginning
Yet another Rurouni Kenshin fanfic by eriesalia
Continuity: post Jinchuu/Kaden

18th year of the Meiji, Kyoto

Their feet glided over the rooftops, barely touching the tiles as they ran the width of the city.

Swordsman pursued onmitsu – foolishly perhaps, for despite the swordman's heroic speed, this was the onmitsu's domain. The trees and walls and roofs of the Imperial City were a second home to the Oniwabanshu– as was the darkness of night that surrounded them.

Nevertheless, he pursued the ninja, knowing full well that his life depended on the outcome tonight.

A few more steps, and the onmitsu disappeared from view.

He followed a second later, landing quietly on the soft ground that lined the courtyard that had become altogether familiar to him this past year.

"You've lost," the Okashira waited, eyes glittering with some strange emotion.

He nodded. "Starting tomorrow, then—"

"Your days of wandering are over," the onmitsu laughed.

At that, he could not avoid cracking a smile of his own.

Losing this race, in this case, was not a bad thing at all.

- - - - - - - - -

17th year of the Meiji . Tokyo.

"Dammit! Stupid papers!" The furious voice of one broom-headed detective resonated off the walls of the small district police office and was followed by a rather loud and resounding crash.

Saitou Hajime's eyes flicked briefly in the direction of Cho Sawagejo and shook his head in disgust as he watched the junior office kick the pile of papers in frustration.

Cho was restless, as were many of the officers these days who were stuck sitting at their desks filling out paperwork instead of conducting investigations. New officials had decreed that the police force's efforts be more open and accountable; as a result, even the investigators were forced to file activity reports and logs every week with Tokyo Headquarters.

Saitou had managed to find ways around these decrees with his special status, but others did not.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Saitou paused by Cho's desk and watched the man shove every piece of paper together without any particular attention to the order the papers were originally in.

"Nothing that a little match can't fix," Cho muttered.

"Burning police reports is a punishable crime." His superior office smirked.

"Not if I quit and then burn the damn reports," the man slammed the papers on his table.

"True," Saitou shrugged. This wasn't the first time that the broomhead had threatened to quit. He'd get upset about something, disappear for a little while and then come back once his temper had cooled. And no one in the station would say anything about it. They'd simply hand Cho an assignment and let him continue as he wished.

Cho glared at the other man. "You don't have to fill these stupid things out, but all of us do. We're so busy filling out reports that we can't go out and do the work we're supposed to."

"Which is?"

"Cleaning up scumbags and kicking ass, for starters."

Saitou gave an amused snort at the younger man's idealized assessment of what the police actually did.

"But all we've been doing lately is a lot of digging up information on a bunch of stupid businessmen. Like I care, when we got lots of problems out there . Yakuza. Druglords. Arms dealers."

As Cho returned to glaring at his papers, Saitou took out a cigarette from his pocket and tapped it against his fingers. He hadn't had a cigarette all morning, and it now seemed like a good time for one.

As he stepped outside and under the shade of a tree that stood conveniently in front of the station, he silently agreed with Cho. While these days it appeared that the Meiji government was stable, there were a lot of elements within modern Japan that were chaotic and dangerous. Not swordsmen with delusions of returning Japan to her bloody past, but syndicates and yakuza who bullied those in the countryside and partnered with businessmen (of both foreign and native persuasion) in questionable activities.

The recent changes to the leadership and power structure of the police made it more difficult for him to pursue his code of justice openly, but there was still room to operate here and it was the reason why he and other former samurai still worked for the government.

Granted, assuming the role of Goro Fujita again was tiresome, but it was a comfortable one, in that. Wrangling the reassignment of Cho back here for 'training' also had been easy to achieve. He preferred to work alone, but in this case – Cho and others would be useful in handling other matters.

As he took another long drag on his cigarette, his keen sense of his surroundings warned him that a familiar presence approached.

He narrowed his eyes speculatively as he tried to identify it.

A swordsman, he was certain. But not Kenshin Himura.

It eluded him only for a moment. After which, he almost chuckled to himself, remarking on the man's odd sense of timing. It was a presence he hadn't felt in a long time. That of an entirely different wanderer.

"Excuse me."

Saitou looked up at the humble looking youth and then after taking a final drag on his cigarette, flicked it away.

The youth bowed politely. "I don't know if you remember me, Inspector."

"Soujiro Seta, former swordsman for Shishio Makoto -- turned wanderer."

Soujiro gave a pleased smile, one that irritatingly reminded him of Kenshin Himura. "I did not think you would remember."

Saitou hmphed. He moved back to the door and turned his head back to look at the man. "Wondered when you would finally show up."

-----

17th year of the Meiji . Kyoto

"Aoshi-sama!!! Aoooooshi-sama!" A young woman moved quickly through the grounds of the hotel known as the Aoiya looking for 'Aoshi-sama,' the current proprietor of said hotel.

As she rounded the wall outside the main quarters, a man jumped up in front of her. "Misao--"

Startled, her fist instinctively came out and punched the man into the wall.

"Urgh," was the poor man's response.

Misao Makimachi, the owner of the powerful punch, screamed as she realized her mistake and began wailing apologetically. "Okina!! Okina!! I'm so sorry! "

Okina waved her hovering presence away and simply rubbed his bruised cheek. "Next time, look first to see who you're dealing with before you punch, Misao."

"I know!" She looked guiltily at the ground. "You told me that the last time."

He rubbed his other cheek where the bruise from the last time he had caught her off guard was finally beginning to disappear. "Aoshi is busy."

"Which means we won't see him until dinner or well after, right?"

"Likely not. You know what he's like."

Misao sighed. Lately, no one at the Aoiya saw much of him. He was busy running the business affairs of the Aoiya and dealing with other things that neither Okina or he would talk much about. She had her suspicions on what they often would retire privately to discuss, but the two did not see fit to tell her about their information gathering. It was as if they did not wish for her to become overly involved in the things that Oniwaban of the past had often pursued. "That's too bad—"

"Come now, Misao." Okina smiled kindly at her. "What is that you wanted him to see?"

She grinned at Okina as she took out a bundle and handed it to him. "Guess what I've managed to dig up in one of our storerooms?"

Okina furrowed his brow as he started to unwrap the bundle. His eyes widened as he looked at the weapons inside.

"They're grandfather's aren't they?" Misao leaned down to admire the thin blades. "They're so much more delicate than the kunai I use. I'm pretty sure if I practice with these that I'll be able to fight more effectively in a battle."

"Misao—" the light in OKina's eyes faded slightly. "Your grandfather might not want you to use these."

"Why?" Misao gave him a stubborn look. "Even though we haven't had a battle in a while, there isn't any harm to practicing with them."

"It can not be permitted."

Both Misao and Okina turned to look at the owner of that voice.

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao's face looked hurt and confused as she processed his words. "You too?"

Aoshi and Okina exchanged a glance and Okina handed Aoshi the bundle of knives.

Aoshi wrapped the bundle securely. "We believe that Makimachi-san would not want for his only remaining family to continue pursuing the onmitsu arts in a time where it serves no purpose."

She blinked at the stern expression of disapproval on both their faces. And then, when she realized that they were treating her still like a child, she clenched her fists to her side. "You two don't understand anything at all!"

And then she turned on her heel and walked away.

Hrm. Well, I'm assuming some of you haven't bothered trying to read all 50 something chapters of "Another Chance" to guess what this is going to be about – so all I'll say is that this will feature the characters laid out in the next three-four chapters.

The title is a little play on words. I wanted something to encompass all the main characters of this story and all the random people who will inevitably show up later.

It takes place after the Kaden epilogue, which is set about five years after the end of the Jinchuu arc. Knowledge of AC isn't necessary, but there are some allusions to Misao, Cho, Soujiro in the beginning and (hopefully) at the very end which might be helpful. And if you look carefully over there, there is a hint at a pairing