A/N: Well…I've had this first chapter done for a while, but I didn't want to post it until I had the ones after this done so that a hiatus following a cliffhanger could be avoided. However, I have proven as usual to be a very lazy bum and still don't have it done and have therefore decided to post it up anyways. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Rurouni Kenshin or anything affiliated with it.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The Tea Drinker's Omen

Chapter 1: Kidnapped

-o-o-o-o-o-

(Summer of 1880. A warehouse in Osaka.)

A group of fifty or so men shifted uncomfortably on top of the many crates they had moved to form makeshift tables and chairs. For the most part they were all quiet and attentive even as the crates creaked below them and bugs buzzed around the few candles they were using as lights. The summer heat permeated the air as the stench of the crowd of unwashed bodies floated up to the three men in the front, or rather, two men and a male child of about twelve. As the meeting took place in an empty warehouse on the waterfront, the crashing of waves could be heard alongside the speaker's voice, giving life to his words, each breath becoming a newly raised fist.

However, one of the men in the front kept himself apart from the rest, even as the night wore on. He was the shorter of the two men and he was leaning against a wall, his sharp golden eyes watching the crowd with disdain. His hair was slicked back and he was smoking a cigarette, flicking the burnt ashes onto the ground every few seconds. Occasionally, his cold gaze would flicker towards the only exit as an open challenge to any who would dare think of leaving the meeting to reveal the nature of its contents to the authorities. If any had made a false move, then in the blink of an eye that traitor would have been dead.

The taller of the two, a man of 6'3", gave out instruction calmly. His level blue eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, making eye contact with those most receptive to his ideas. He had a charismatic way of speaking, lulling all but the strong-willed to see his point of view. His hair was a bit too long and parts of his bangs fell in front of his eyes, but he didn't even pause to swipe them out of his way. Finally, without stopping to take an extra breath and without any unnecessary flourishes, he finished.

"Are there any questions?" He asked in a silky, yet deep voice.

"Yeah!" came a gruff male voice from the back of the room. Those close to him desperately tried to shush him in vain. He angrily pointed at the twelve year old child sitting calmly on a small crate near the front. "Why do we have to follow a weak kid like him anyways? I'm more than strong enough to take on a snot nosed brat like him. He's not even old enough to wipe his own ass!"

"Is that so?" replied the taller man with a sickening smile that was too sweet to be sincere.

"Yeah! I could just smack him in the h…he…urgh!!"

The man crumpled painfully on the floor, his knees smashing as he hit the ground. He was overtaken by strong convulsions, screaming unintelligibly while he clutched desperately at his chest. He gave one final ear-splitting scream before his eyes rolled back in his head and he became still, blood spilling forth from his eyes and ears.

"Are there any more questions?" The kid stepped away from the body even though moments ago he was still on the crate. His wavy blond hair glistened in the candlelight, deceptively giving off the image of an angel. No one dared to move or even breathe.

"That's what I thought." He crossed over to the doorway, stepping on the body along the way. "Somebody dispose of this garbage. We don't want to leave behind any evidence. Throw it deep into the ocean and leave no witnesses." When no one had moved to follow his command, for a second his brown eyes smoldered like charcoal.

"I suppose you all don't mind if we add a few more bodies to the trash pile." Suddenly the room burst into activity.

Crushing his cigarette under foot, the golden-eyed male gave a twisted and sadistic grin before following the kid out the door. As he passed by, people stilled and the air began to fill with whispers.

"Who's that? He gives me the chills."

"I heard he used to be a cop. They say he killed his entire squad just to prove loyalty to the kid."

"That kid is frightening on his own. What exactly was that move he did?"

"They call it the 'death touch'. All he has to do is touch an enemy in order to kill him."

"And if people don't stop standing around gossiping like old women, you'll learn of worse ways to die that aren't so quick or painless. I suggest, for your own safety, that you all get back to work."

Without looking back, the taller man left out the door, his mouth smiling, but his eyes showing no emotion. The streets of Osaka were incredibly dark and desolate for this time of night and he could barely make out the silhouette of his two comrades even though they were only a few yards away. As he approached the two, they had ceased their conversation. A cool evening breeze fluttered by while no one made a move. Finally, the kid spoke, his eyes in turn locking with those of both his partners.

"Gentlemen, it's time. You all know what to do. The objective is to capture and not to kill. Remember that. Our target this time is a kunoichi by the name of Misao Makimachi."

-o-o-o-o-o-

(3 days later. Somewhere in Kyoto.)

"Oh, you're still up? Have you been reading all this time?" Misao Makimachi, now age 18, peeked her head casually into Aoshi's room. Although it had been two years since Aoshi came back to the Oniwabanshuu, not much had changed between the two.

"Yes, I've been reading a journal that belonged to one of our previous okashira. I thought there might be some information within that would help you."

Aoshi-sama was doing all this for me! He really does care! Maybe he returns my feelings? No…that idea is an impossibility, but still…

Misao almost fainted due to sheer happiness. As a strong blush crept upon her face she turned away to hide the tell-tale signs of her affection. Misao had long ago learned that Aoshi didn't respond to her overly zealous declarations of love. Besides, for now it was enough just to be able to be near him and stay as familiar with him as she was. Over the last two years, Aoshi had provided the support and aid that she needed in order to be an effective okashira. As time went by, she had learned to deeply respect Aoshi not only as a man, but also as a ninja. Long gone were her days of childish crushes and hero idolization. Now Aoshi had become an irreplaceable part of her life and she hoped that she held the same place within Aoshi's life. She didn't want to do or say anything that would jeopardize their friendship.

"You don't have to stay up till late hours to do that. You're always doing so much to help me… You should stop worrying about me. I'm not that little kid that used to follow you around everywhere! I'm an adult now and I can take care of myself."

Misao was starting to get a little nervous when Aoshi hadn't said anything in reply. Afraid that she had misspoken, she slowly glanced sideways at Aoshi's profile.

He was kneeling stiffly on a cushion in front of a small low-rise table. There were various books of different sizes and content stacked in neat piles around the table and floor. Open scrolls laid casually to the side for later inspection. One small candle was all the light he used. Overall, though, Aoshi's room was bare with only the necessities inside. The only other items inside his bedroom were a futon that he slept on and a bookcase which held the many books and scrolls that he was constantly reading.

At this moment though, Aoshi closed the book that he had open in his hands and gently placed it upon the low-table. After a pause, he finally looked at Misao and spoke.

"You're right of course. I should not have doubted the abilities of our okashira and I shouldn't have misjudged you based on your younger age. I will, however, remain by your side and lend you my strength should you ever find that you have use of it."

Misao didn't know how to react to that. Her mind was reeling at the implications, but considering this was Aoshi-sama, it probably meant nothing. As she desperately fought with her emotions, trying to get them back under control, she was at a loss for words. The silence seemed to stretch on forever. She had to do something to dispel this awkward atmosphere. Finally, the words seemed to come to her and they flowed out of her mouth before she could even think about them.

"Thank you. Aoshi-sama, you've always been there for me even when I was a young kid and I've always admired you for that. Even now, you are still looking out for me. I suppose that's why…that's why I fell in love with you. And I will continue to love you, even if it's unrequited." Her voice had gotten softer with each additional word she said, each syllable was a precious confession, a part of her soul that she was unearthing and giving to Aoshi to see. Suddenly, once the words were out, she was filled with a strange confidence. "You're always doing something for me! Aoshi-sama, isn't there anything I can do for you?"

Once the full realization of the weight of her words struck, she was frozen, her face flushing to almost crimson. She stood there in the doorway, completely exposed and unable to even look at Aoshi for fear of seeing rejection upon his face. If only she could take back what she had just said…

"I wouldn't mind a hot cup of tea right now." Misao's eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at Aoshi. "You are free to join me if you like. Tea does seem to taste better when you have company." Misao then smiled genuinely as she went back to her old self.

"Right away!" She left the room skipping and seemingly glittering as she made her way to the kitchen area of their base.

Aoshi-sama didn't reject me! And now both of us can pretend that none of that ever happened. It can still be the way it was before! Our friendship didn't end! I'm so relieved.

Misao sighed deeply before she realized that she had been standing in the kitchen for more than a few minutes. Sheepishly, she reached in a jar for some tea leaves only to come up empty-handed. Rapidly, she checked all the other small jars around the counter and found nothing. Her face slowly became a blank slate as she stared straight ahead.

One.

Two…

THREE!

Misao snapped. How could there not be any tea at all?!? It just wasn't possible. It wasn't right! Furiously, she ravaged the kitchen, turning everything upside down and inside out. In the end she collapsed exhausted onto the kitchen floor, her search proving futile. Eventually, huge, fat, wet tears began to trickle down her face. It was so frustrating! It just wasn't fair. This was her first and probably only invitation that she would ever get to sit down and join Aoshi with a cup of tea. He had actually provided her with a reason to be near him instead of her always searching for and making up excuses! It just didn't happen! She needed that tea right now!

I am going to get that tea, even if it means I have to go out in the middle of the night and bargain from the neighbors for some!

Standing up defiantly, she shook her fist one last time before heading outside without a second thought for her safety. After all, why would she? They were still living in the Meiji Era, a time of peace.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A female flashed by quickly, her long braid trailing behind her as she ran up the street and turned left at the corner. A tall man stepped out of his hiding place among the shadows behind a building, his body morphing into visibility. His bright blue eyes flashed in the dim lighting. Using his left hand, he motioned for his two comrades to follow as he started walking off in the direction the girl had just gone. As his feet hit the hard dirt of the road, they didn't make a sound.

"Mitsuru, is she the one? Is that the girl we're looking for?" The boy of about twelve, the one named Mitsuru, answered. He looked concerned, an emotion not commonly seen on the kid.

"I—I couldn't tell. I didn't get close enough to look. Ask Izanagi, he's the one who's had previous contact with the target."

The one named Izanagi stepped away from the wall he had previously been leaning against. Flicking the ash away from his cigarette, he let the smoldering butt fall to the ground. Cruelly his lips formed into a smirk as his eyes seemed to change hues.

"Hn. That's her for sure. Only a fool would rush around that recklessly in the middle of the night."

"So now what do we do?" asked the taller male. Izanagi snorted at his younger teammate before lighting up a new cigarette and walking away.

"Easy Kioshi." The youngest member placed his hand over the arm of the taller man to calm him. Slowly, the man named Kioshi removed his hand from its place on his sword hilt and let it hang by his side. "We know now where she is and where she's headed. We merely have to lay a trap and intercept her."

As the two men conversed quietly, Izanagi was stationed a few meters ahead hidden in the shadow of a tree. When the two men approached cautiously so as not to be seen, Izanagi jerked his thumb behind him indicating a scene in which a dubious merchant was selling some wares to an unsuspecting young lady.

"Tch. It's about time you two showed up. Isn't that guy one of our allies from the Zetsumei-tachi? He's trying to sell something to the target. It doesn't seem as if she's interested though. I guess she's not a complete fool."

The slimy merchant leaned in closer to Misao, the stench of sake fresh on his breath. The tie around his waist was loosened and his gi top hung limply, not entirely tucked in properly. Wisps of hair fell out of his low ponytail, curling around the nape of his neck. Nonchalantly, he flicked dirt out from under his nails as his face came closer to hers.

"C'mon…yah know yah want…buy some tay. It's the fines' in Kyoto…don beh stingy…such a perty face…be a shame if something were ta happen ta yah…" The man swayed a little on his feet as his words slurred together forming almost nonsensical sentences. As he stumbled forward, he grabbed a firm hold on Misao's face. "How bout a kiss…wouldn't want ta disappoint…"

"Let go of me you perv!" The drunkard fell to the ground with a resounding 'oof' as Misao kicked him in the stomach. "That ought to teach you! No one messes with the okashira of a great ninja clan! And I'd never want any of your disgusting tea. I'm not that desperate!!"

"Aww…c'mon naw love…no need ta beh so mean…" The merchant got up unsteadily and took a few wobbly steps towards Misao. His long black hair was even more disheveled and his brown eyes held something wild in them. "…or else you're gonna make meh mad!" The man lunged forward and captured Misao firmly in his arms.

"Naw isn't tha' bettah?" he cooed while his hands roamed up and down her body. Misao tried not to cry out as his hand cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it lightly. She tried to bear it when his other hand grabbed hold of her butt. "Naw lesse what yah got under those shorts…"

"NO!!" she yelled as she stomped her foot down with all her might, granting her a few seconds of freedom before the man caught her by the wrists and brought her closer again.

She bit him hard on the arm, ignoring the bitter taste of the dirt that was coated on his skin. He yelched in pain as he stepped back and snatched his hand away, cradling it close to his body. Before the man could come at her again, Misao had a fist full of kunai ready for the throwing. As her arm was poised in the ready-position, suddenly the drunk fell over face first onto the ground. Surprised she looked up to see a man even taller than Aoshi-sama with clear crystal blue eyes.

"It looked like you were in a bit of trouble." At Misao's concerned face, he added, "Don't worry, he's not dead, he probably just passed out from all the alcohol."

He spoke with a rich silky voice that was almost hypnotizing. It immediately calmed her down. Misao's savior was dressed in simple black hakama pants, his matching black gi parted slightly, revealing his well toned pectoral and abdominal muscles. He wore a netted shirt commonly seen by ninja's underneath his gi and his arms were covered by protective arm guards. His hair was tied back loosely at the nape forming a short ponytail, but much of his bangs were short enough that they hung in front of his eyes, escaping the bondage of his hair tie. He wore simple sandals which were strapped to his feet as well as to ensure easier mobility and to quiet his steps. He didn't make any movement towards Misao and merely stood in one spot as if waiting for something.

"Ah…thank you for rescuing me." Misao looked down at her feet in embarrassment. Not only was she not strong enough to defend herself…but she had to be rescued by someone this handsome.

Of course Aoshi-sama is even more handsome. If only he could have been here instead…

At Misao's words, the man suddenly looked at her as if remembering that she were there.

"Sorry…but I didn't come here to rescue you."

His gaze once again returned to a spot just behind her. Misao became even more confused by his words. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a splash of blonde hair reveal itself from the shadows to her right. From her left she noticed another figure coming forward from the darkness, the smoke from his cigarette floating up into the night sky.

"It's nothing personal," whispered the kid into her ear, "just a bit of business I have to attend to."

Suddenly Misao was falling, her body becoming heavy, ignoring all commands she gave it to move. The man on her left caught her roughly in his arms, treating her as if she were a rag doll. As her vision began to blur and her hearing began to dull she clearly saw the faces of all three of her attackers. The last thing she heard was the voice of her supposed savior.

"Izanagi, do you need some help carrying the body?"

Izanagi? she thought confusedly in her stupor. No…that can't be…