Notes – This fic is totally AU – everything up to the Kyoto Arch is still the same. But I am changing everything after that. I hope ya'll don't mind.

Also Note – in Japan, last names come first, then first names – As in, Himura Kenshin. Kenshin is the first name and Himura is the last.

On the Edge of the Blade

A Rumor goes in one ear and out many mouths – Old Chinese Proverb

Kenshin never thought that he would find his old leader; Katsura hadn't stayed in the lime light long after the Bakumatsu was won and the Meiji started. In fact, he had gone straight into hiding a week after his daughter got married. No one ever heard from him again.

Which was no surprise; many of the Ishin Shishi had taken on government jobs, but Katsura never wanted that. He never wanted the power nor did he want the money. All he ever wanted was peace, and that had been achieved with much blood shed.

Blood that he, the Hitokiri Battousai had helped to take; he never did know much about his victims, it was supposed to protect him…but maybe in the long run it had hurt him more than knowing ever would have.

"The Sakura is beautiful this spring," Kenshin said; he stood behind Katsura. The man had grown older over the last ten years; he had gray in his hair, but he was still the same. He didn't even jump when Kenshin spoke.

"Kenshin, it has been a long time,"

"It has indeed, Katsura-san,"

"Please, come and sit with me," Katsura patted the ground besides him; Kenshin obeyed the older man.

"What has brought my old friend all this way?" Katsura asked.

"Makoto Shishio," Kenshin replied.

"Ah, I know what's been going on, I still maintain my contacts; however, the general census of the populace suggest that they actually want him," Katsura said.

"I know, even Kaoru-dono and the others agree,"

"Really?"

"Yes, but they are young, Sano knows a little of how horrible the Bakumatsu was. But Kaoru-dono and her student, Yahiko, do not,"

"I see – so, they believe what they see,"

"I believe what I feel, I never met Shishio, however…"

"He was just as good at his job as you where – he was older and had more experience. I know now that I should never have asked you to become the Ishin Shishi Hitokiri – but, even monkeys fall from the trees,"

"I understand, and I was young – I wanted to help. All I wanted to do was use my school in order to help those that the Shogun was hurting. But, I hurt others worse than if I had just stayed out of it,"

"We all made mistakes, I regret all that I had to do, and all that I asked of you,"

"Still, what do you think?"

"I think…that if he doesn't involve innocents…"

"That we should welcome him and let him have this power?"

"Maybe,"

"What if he abuses it just as the Shogun had? Then all of our hard fighting would have been wasted and there would be no chance of us raising enough men for a rebellion," Kenshin muttered.

"Indeed, power unchecked is the worst enemy one can have,"

"Agreed,"

"What are you going to do? Do your friends even know half of your life story?" Katsura asked.

"No, all they know was that at one point in time, I was the Hitokiri Battousai,"

"But they do not know the blood that covers your hands and souls, I don't expect the second generation will ever know the extent of horror we all went through during our rebellion. No one will ever understand the hell I and others have put you through," Katsura said.

"I never wanted them to understand me, all I wanted was for them to accept me for who I am, now, not what I was, then; I have changed,"

"You have, you've grown up, Ken-chan,"

"And yet you still treat me as a child," Kenshin chuckled.

"If only to help you smile,"

"I still do not know what to do; my friends…seem excited to have someone as strong as Shishio in power,"

"Really?'

"It means that we can carry our swords openly and not get arrested for it; now, children will go to the dojo's in droves and Kaoru-dono can teach her style…the sword that gives life….Shishio has promised the people these things,"

"Doesn't sound so bad,"

"Not on the service, but my old self is whispering to me; he says that I should stay wary of any who come and talk to me about supporting Shishio,"

"I have also had these feelings of late,"
"What do you plan to do?"

"I am an getting along in my years – even during the Bakumatsu I was considered old. But no one dared tell me that to my face, but I knew it. I am not planning on anything, it is up to the second generation to make their own decisions, we cannot save Japan again because the people do not want to be saved,"

"I understand,"

"I am sorry,"

"No, please don't…"

"But I am glad that you came, I have something to show you,"

Katsura stood and he beckoned Kenshin to follow him; they went into the small house that Katsura had made his home for the last ten years. It was furnished simply, on a wall was a scroll of an ink painting of mountains with a dragon flying above it. He also had a character of Kenshin, as the Battousai.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a moment," Katsura directed, he disappeared down the hall way to the bed rooms. Kenshin shivered in the cold wind that swept through the room. It foretold bad omens to him, and Battousai whispered to him even louder. The problem of Shishio would not go away and Kenshin stood to lose his life if he did not have a plan.

"Here we go; I only came across this about a week ago and so have not been able to contact you," Katsura said as he came back to the room. In his hand were several pieces of folded paper.

"What is it?" Kenshin asked.

"All ways the ungrateful brat," Katsura chuckled.

"Impatient," Kenshin smiled.

"Well, it's about your parents,"

"They died when I was little, by disease,"

"That was what you were told, no doubt, however…it started with a hurricane. It was the worst the coast ever saw, and the tiny village was devastated. After the hurricane had gone though; some people were down by the coast looking at the wreckage of a ship. A foreign ship. They found a Gaijin woman…nearly half dead but still alive,"

"And what does that have to do with my parents?" Kenshin asked, though he suspected the answer.

"As you know, Gaijin's at that time where not welcome. She would have been killed, but, Himura Sho fell in love with her and married her a month later,"

"I follow you so far…is that why I am so different? With my red hair?"

"You take after your mother," Katsura said, he handed a folded piece of paper to Kenshin. When he unfolded it, he almost saw himself; except that the lady was more effeminate and was wearing a western styled dress.

"She died in child birth – your father was so furious and un happy that he sent you away, however, the person he sent you away with was a slaver, he made you a slave,"

"Yes, then Shishou came – he changed my name and taught me Hiten Mitsurugi,"

"Yes, but…it seems as if Sho-san wants you back,"

"What? Why?"

"Apparently, it is part of Shishio's plan,"

"Shishio needs me? Why would he want me?"

"I do not know, my contact hasn't gotten a message to me, yet,"

"This is getting stranger by the moment,"

"Yes,"

"Do you know anything else…about my parentage…that is?" Kenshin asked.

"I met Sho-san, once, he is not a man to be crossed. I would rather see you wandering than in the hands of…that man,"

"He's really that bad?"

"I am not sure, that is for you to decide, if you wanted,"

"No, I trust you, if you say he is…"

"Garbage? Then yes, you can trust me when I say it," Katsura said. Kenshin stood, Katsura handed him the rest of the papers he held.

"Please, be careful,"

"I will, thank you…for everything," Kenshin said, he bowed and then in a blink of an eye, he was gone. Katsura sat in the silence of his home for the rest of that bright afternoon.

Sho….Sho….Himura Sho…..our father. Strange, I never had thought to ask after Mother and Father…the Battousai thought.

There was never a need – the Rurouni replied. He sat in a tree with the package of papers in his hands. He wanted to open them so badly he could feel his mouth salivating for the information inside it.

I don't think we are ready for this yet; Battousai commented.

I don't think so either, but what else are we to do? The Rurouni asked.

We mustn't do it now, I feel someone coming!

Kenshin quickly stashed the papers in his gi; and slammed his ki to unawareness. The only thing that he did not like about this trick was that, not only could others not be able to sense his ki, but he could not sense any ki of his enemy's. Below him, he saw a young boy and a huge monk walking along the road.

"What did he say, when you asked about his visitor?" the huge man asked.

"Katsura-san said that they had talked about Shishio-sama, and that they had come to the conclusion that nothing could be done and that he planned on living in piece, unless, he said, if I had been sent to take his life. Of which; he continued, he said he would commit Sepukku,"

"Ah, a Samurai till the end,"

"I told him that there was no need, since I had only been sent to gather information, not to kill him,"

"What did he say to that?"

"He didn't say much, only that he did not know where Himura-san was, but that he knew where the Ronin's father was,"

"But, we already know the man,"
"Indeed, but Katsura-san did not know that,"
"I see,"

"Still," the boy yawned, "I wish we knew where Himura-san was, it would make capturing him all that more easier. Not even his former friends knew where he went. All they could tell me was that he made them dinner the night before and in the morning he was gone, all he left was a note…it wasn't even a proper good-by," the boy explained.

"Himura was a Hitokiri, he knows that Japan could suffer," The big man said.

"Indeed, but still, I don't see why we can't just kill him," the boy said.

"Easier said than done,"

"I am not going against Shishio-sama's orders; still, I do not understand why we need Himura alive,"

"Neither do I," the other said. They passed beneath Kenshin's tree, neither bothering to look up. Kenshin waited a long time before he let his ki go. He felt better when he could sense the life around him. But, that did not make his problems better – in fact, they had just gotten worst and he did not like it all.

An hour passed; Kenshin waited the whole time in his tree before jumping down and looked for a secluded spot; he found one not far from the road. He quickly ripped off his pink gi and changed into the only other one he had. The dark blue gi had been the only thing Kenshin had taken with him from the Bakumatsu. Once he was dressed, he had the problem of his scar and hair to deal with.

If he had inherited his father's looks, Kenshin knew it would be relatively easy to blend in with every other dark hair Japanese in any city or town or small village he wanted. But since he had his mothers Gaijin red hair and pale skin – he stuck out in a crowd like a sore thumb.

He stood there thinking for a time before and idea hit him; it had been a long time since he though of dye. Once, he remembered watching an old woman dyeing material for a kimono for a very rich girl soon to be married. Kenshin remembered watching her do it and he remembered her telling him where she had gotten some of the dye. Even the black; and that…was what he needed.

Thankfully, the herb was in full bloom and all Kenshin had to do was mix it with fresh spring water from a pool no more than three feet away; it took him a while to work it into his hair and to make it look natural. But not all of his instincts from the Bakumatsu had left him and when he was done, he looked almost like any other young man. He pulled his hair into a pony tail of dark midnight. He put a patch across his scar and he was done.

Now, he did not look out of place. With black hair and a worn gi, it was almost as if he had come to the city to make himself a future. Kenshin knew that this could work to his advantage. He gathered as many of the hair dyeing herbs as possible and stashed them in his pack. Then he made his way back to the road. He looked down both ways before picking the direction that Kyoto was in.

Kyoto was awash in the glow of lanterns; the party lights had been lit at sun down and many people were out to watch the firework displays. Vendors sold fresh noodles and miso along with special desserts. Men and women alike filled the restaurants, and the gambling houses were brimming with happy-go-lucky men. It was today that Makoto Shishio had been declared Emperor of Japan, along with his wife, Makoto Yumi, of whom it had been said to be the most generous and beautiful Empress Japan had ever seen.

Kenshin hadn't seen any of the earlier ceremonies, but now, he knew it was too late to do anything. Japan loved their new leader and wouldn't give him up for anything.

Everything has gone to waist – Battousai muttered.

Yes, there was nothing we could have done anyway – the Rurouni replied sullenly.

And we lost our friends in Tokyo; they never did understand.

Kenshin sighed, he sat in a beef-pot restaurant, he had some warm sake and was waiting for his dinner to arrive. He listened into the conversation that was happening next to his little cubicle.

"Can you believe it, a Hitokiri!" one man said.

"He must have been on the Choshu side of the wars," another said.

"But didn't someone try to kill him off?"

"Yeah, shot him in the head and set him on fire, but he survived, and now he'll make sure that Japan stays free of Gaijin's," the third man said.

"Wasn't there another though? Another Hitokiri?"

"Yeah, there's been a bounty put on his head,"

"How much?"

"I think it was twenty-thousand yen,"

"That would make us some very rich men…"

"Are we talking about Hitokiri Battousai?" one asked.

"Yeah, he's got red hair and a cross shaped scar, said to be a demon with a sword,"

"Maybe we could look, if only to satisfy our own curiosity,"

"Right, and get killed in the process," one snorted.

"Hadn't you heard, Battousai made a vow never to kill,"

"Right, so what is better, getting killed or getting the shit beaten out of us?"

"Getting the shit beaten out of us is better than leaving our wives penniless,"

"Let's see if we can get anything else on him,"

The men paid their bill and left; when his food arrived, Kenshin concentrated on eating. But he felt like throwing up; he hadn't had that feeling in a long time.

Kaoru and Yahiko, along with Sano, were staying at the Ayoia; the Inn was very pleasant and the family that ran the place were very nice. The youngest girl, Misao, was very lively. She bounced across the room, split the food and drinks but she hardly cared whenever someone yelled at her.

Even so, Yahiko felt that something was missing; "Kaoru, do you know what would make this better?" he asked.

"Having Kenshin here," Kaoru muttered.

"Yeah," Yahiko agreed.

"Oh com on, you don't honestly think that Kenshin would just sit by and let Shishio take over, do ya?" Sano asked.

"I had hoped…"

"You didn't see the Bakumatsu, I saw some of it, but Kenshin lived the worst of it. To him, this is wrong," Sano explained.

"I guess that makes sense, he did fight to bring in the Meiji,"

"But isn't having Shishio as Emperor help us? At least a little bit?" Yahiko asked.

"Yes," Kaoru smiled, "It does,"

He spent the night out in the open; his instincts told him to be wary, but of what, he didn't know when it would come nor in what form. Even his vague theory's had him on the edge. Meanwhile, Battousai was reveling in the speed. It had been a long time since he had ran so fast and so far. His memories helped him to navigate Kyoto in the dark recesses of the night.

No one was about in the streets; except for those few policemen who honestly didn't bother to do their work. The festival had ended about two hours before, but some streets were still lit. Kenshin dodged those lightened streets, feeling more at peace in the darkness.

When he finally stopped on a roof top, he did not feel tired, nor was he out of breath.

Strange, he thought, I'm not fourteen any longer…

Your twenty-eight, that isn't old – Battousai shrugged his shoulders at his alter self.

"Right, I'm not that old," Kenshin muttered out loud. He suddenly felt stupid for doing so. He sighed and took off once again; he made his way to the outskirts of Kyoto. A mile out, he found an old Ishin Shishi safe house. The old Temple had once been looked after by Monks of the Buddhist religion. Now it was run down; the roof tiles had fallen off and where in shatters on the temples steps. The guardians had lost their heads and tails. Which was a shame, Kenshin liked the Dragon statues that had once guarded this particular temple.

He explored the surroundings; no one had been there for a long time. The gardens had been over grown with weeds and the Sakura tree needed a trimming badly. When he went inside, things were dusty and it looked as if some wild animals had taken refuge. Kenshin walked up to the second story of the temple, which had been the living quarters.

There he found things had been left; there was a tea set, some dishes and utensils. He found a worn out futon and a lamp. There was some oil but he did not plan on lighting the lamp. Since the temple had been abandoned for a long time, it would look strange if things suddenly looked neat, as if someone was living there.

As it was, Kenshin was only planning on hiding out for the night. In the morning, he would need to gather more information, and the best way to do that, was to get a job.

It was late, an owl hooted in the distance and Kenshin hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He sat against the wall of the old shrine with his sword resting against his shoulder. The Sakabatou was a comforting weight. It was the only steady thing he had ever since he had thrown away his Hitokiri self.

The sound of footsteps entering the temple made him sit up; he hadn't thought that maybe his hiding place would also be inhabited by others. However…

Haruka Daiki didn't like the group of men that he was with; they were all former Samurai, who would have their possession in lands and homes back very soon according to the wishes of the Emperor.

"All right, this is it, what do you want?" Daiki asked.

"It's not nice to be rude," Hiraku Isamu laughed.

"What do you want, Hiraku?" Daiki asked.

"Your Sensei owes us money!" one of the men said.

"What? Hotaka-Sensei owes you nothing!" Daiki growled.

"That's not what I say, and if you are smart than you'll do as we say," Hiraku laughed.

"No! I won't let you tarnish the name of Hotaka-Sensei!" Daiki said. He backed away from the group of men and unsheathed his blade.

"I, Haruka Daiki, first apprentice of the Hotaka style will defeat you!"

"Oh, really? Get him men!" Hiraku yelled.

Swords clanged against their sheaths as they too were taken to hand. These men were students of Hiraku-san, the father of Hiraku Isamu. With a rush the four men came at Daiki. He fended them off as best he could; mostly just blocking the blades. However, Daiki fell over a log that jutted up from the foundation of the temple. Blades came to rest at his throat. They were going to kill him.

"You should not do that," someone said, voice cold.

"What? Who is there?" Hiraku looked around.

"Look up," the voice came again. The specter above them had cold ice blue eyes, nothing else could be discerned of him.

"Who are you?" Hiraku yelled.

"No one of consequence, however, I cannot allow you to kill this man. Now, if you want a fight, I suggest you fight me or go away peacefully," the stranger replied.

"Why don't you come down here so we can get a taste of your blood?" one of the men laughed.

"Fine, I shall humor you then," the stranger said. He jumped from the railing of the second floor. Hand on the hilt of his own sword, he pulled it with god like speed. Slamming the dull edge of the blade against the chest of the man who had laughed at him; breaking bones could be heard and the stranger jumped away. Sword held in a two hand grip in front of his face, the stranger was ready for more action.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Daiki yelled.

"Do you want to die?" the stranger asked.

"It's better than shaming the name of my Sensei and school!"

"It would be even more shameful if you died like this," the stranger said before he once again jumped into action. His blade flown like the wind, faster than the wind, it was so fast that all any of them could see was the moonlight shinning off the blade.

It was only a matter of seconds before the stranger came to a stop; his sword resting on his shoulder in a horizontal line. He looked over his handy work and smile slightly.

"Who are you?" Daiki asked.

"Who? Me? No on in particular," the man shrugged, re-sheathing his sword.

"My name is Haruka Daiki, please, tell me yours," Daiki said getting to his feet. The man looked his over, decided he was no threat and then smiled, a bigger one this time, more friendly.

"My name is Tsukiko Yori," the stranger bowed.

"Thanks for doing what you did for me, your so fast!"

"Er – thank you,"

"What style was that, by the way?" Daiki asked.

"What? Oh, its old, it has no name," Yori shrugged.

"Tsukiko-san, will you do me the honor of staying the night at Hotaka Dojo? My Sensei will be most glad to meet you!"

"Well, I…"

"Please, it would be an honor to all of us," Daiki looked so excited to meet such a wonderful swordsman.

"I would be honored if you would house me for the night," Yori bowed again.

"Please, let us go, the dojo isn't far from here," Daiki said.

When morning finally came; Kenshin (now Yori) got a good look at the dojo. Going strong at twenty students, most who could not afford lessons in Kendo nor Kenjutsu, the master of the dojo had given them lessons in return for the keep up of his dojo.

The rock garden rested behind the kitchen; in a far corner of the walled court yard sat the wash that was waiting for some attention, and a well was sitting in the middle. Some students yawned as they woke up, and they goggled at the stranger. Kenshin was glad that he had checked his disguise before the inhabitants of the dojo awoke.

"All right, nothing to see here, you all had better start with the morning chores before lessons," Daiki said, after waving the younger students away he chuckled slightly as he turned to Yori.

"Sensei will see you now," Daiki said and led the way inside. The room was deffinantly the training room of the dojo. Name plates lined the four walls prominently.

The old man sitting in the middle of the room was tall, his graying hair was pulled back in a warriors top-knot and a blade lay besides him. Kenshin bowed before sitting down apposite the Sensei.

"Daiki-kun has told me what you did for him last night, I am sorry that you had to come to his rescue," Hotaka-Sensei said.

"It wasn't a fair fight,"

"No, the Tsunamigumi are skilled fighters, but they usually kill anyone they come up against. How did you survive?" Hotaka-Sensei asked.

"I was faster than those men," Kenshin shrugged.

"Daiki-kun believes that it would be good for you to stay and learn out style, but I am not sure. If you took out four men, how would you like to learn the Style of Peace?"

"Style of Peace? It has a nice name," Kenshin sighed.

"Yes, however…in order to get peace, one must learn to embrace strife," Hotaka-Sensei replied.

"I am not sure if I should learn a second sword," Kenshin said.

"Maybe you need this to balance yourself,"

"Probably,"

"I do not pretend to know what goes on within, but I also believe that you should learn my sword, I invite you to become an apprentice of myself and Assistant Sensei, Daiki,"

"I…" Kenshin trailed off. It was an honor to be invited to learn a sword. But he had no knowledge of this and he was not sure where the loyalties of these two men and their students lied. However, he had other little choice.

"It would be an honor if you would take this unworthy one and teach him the art of your style, Hotaka-Sensei," Kenshin bowed low, forehead resting on the ground.

"I will be glad to teach you," Hotaka-Sensei replied. Kenshin did not see the knowing smile.

Daiki was glad to hear that Yori would be a student; they did not waist any time, and so after breakfast, Yori and Daiki were in the courtyard learning the basic stances of the Hotaka style. They practiced with wood swords, each time, Daiki showed Yori what to do and Yori mimicked. Yori was a good mimicker – now, they slashed at each other in the simplest kata.

The first strike ten strikes, though different, had no names – the only one that had a name was the last. With a round house kick added for power. The sword came down on the neck. Yori stopped just an inch from skin, but Daiki had his sword poised to strike his middle. They dropped out of the fighting stances, and back off.

Hotaka-Sensei was watching from the sidelines; Daiki was good, but the man who they had taken on as their student wasn't a push over himself. That much he could see, this man, Yori, had a lot of control in his strikes and speed. He could go faster than light if he wanted, but for this, he had slowed down to a mere slug's pace.

"Very good, Yori-san," Daiki said once they had gone through another spar.

"Thank you, Daiki-san," Yori replied, looking quite sheepish.

"Do it again, the moves must flow from you like water into a stream," Hotaka-sensei called to them.

"Yes, Sensei," the two bowed in his direction and without warning, Daiki attacked. Yori saw it coming, and blocked at the last second. Their fight moved about the yard, but they steered clear of the rock garden.

Hotaka-sensei watched, as the fight progressed so did Yori's speed; whatever style the man had used the night before, it was not evident, the moves he had learned that morning would come at random intervals and he would also mimic a move from a higher kata. He was a very fast learner; but there was still more for him to learn.

Himura the Battousai; peace will be second nature to you when you finish our school.

"You haven't found him yet?" Shishio looked over the men in front of him. They were all ronin and had decided to go after the Battousai for the money that had been promised if that man were to be delivered alive.

"Not yet, Shishio-sama, but soon, we just heard of a man who could go faster than light. Apparently, he met up with Tsunamigumi last night, and beat them all. Though, they deserved to be put in their place," one man said.

"Really? This is promising…track that man and see if he knows anything of value," Shishio ordered. He smirked as the band of Ronin left; he knew he was close, he could just feel it! Now, all he had to do was make sure that he got to Battousai first, and not the boy's father.

"Soujiro," Shishio called; the smiling Tenkan came to his masters side.

"What can I do for you, Shishio-sama?" he asked.

"If those men can't find Battousai, I want you to track him down, we have to get our hands on him first,"

"Of course, but, may I ask a question?"

"A good student asks all the questions he needs of his Sensei," Shishio replied.

"Why do we need to capture Battousai-san before his father?" Soujiro asked.

"Because, once we have the Battousai, no one would dare say or do anything against us, the people respect Battousai, and…I have plans for him," Shishio replied.

"Ah, everything is making more sense now, thank you Shishio-sama," Soujiro bowed and then was off after the band of Ronin.

Shishio smirked; he was in power now, and no one would come up against him. Especially if they though he was doing good for the country. A forced dictatorship was the best dictatorship after all.

Notes – This was long! However…I don't feel like separating it into multi chapters at the moment. About that Dictatorship thing there at the end; in ancient times, when a man came to power and became a dictatorship, he did marvelous things for his country. Built roads and aqueducts, made the economy better and sometimes even punished those who deserved it. Case in point anyone you can think of but I can't! (lol)

Ta,

Russe the Sonic Alchemist