Title: One Voice to Find Them
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): Kenshin is his angsty-Battosai self. I think that's warning enough
Disclaimer: I own neither One Piece nor Rurouni Kenshin.

Additional Notes:

-This could be considered a follow up to With One Voice, but it could also stand alone, which is why it is a separate story rather than a chapter. It isn't necessary to read the other story first, nor is it necessary to read it at all to understand this piece.

-I did use a few Japanese words, which I usually try to avoid, because I feel that the English really loses the connotation. The two most notable are "shishou" and "hitokiri," which mean "master" and "manslayer" respectively. Shishou is an antiquated term for a master swordsman and would have been considered old and traditional even in Meiji Japan.

-The Ishin Shishi are the pro-Emperor people. They eventually end up winning the war (no spoilers there if you've seen Rurouni Kenshin) and the Shogunate is done away with. The Shinsengumi are a peace-keeping force in Kyoto. Nagakura Shinpachi was the second unit captain. Wikipedia has more information on him. For this piece I went with Peacemaker Kurogane's interpretation of his appearance and character. I already have two redheads with Kenshin and Shanks, why not add one more? (For anyone who wants to know, Peacemaker Kurogane is set during the Bakumatsu (the fighting period of the Meiji Revolution) and is told from the perspective of the Shinsengumi rather than the Ishin Shishi. In some ways it can be considered almost a companion series to Rurouni Kenshin as they share many of the same characters, excluding Kenshin because he was a fictional character based off of real historical figures. (Sorry if I spoiled anyone's dreams of going back in time and meeting him.)

-I didn't make a mistake in Kenshin's eye color. They are gold when he feels more hitokiri-like and blue when he is calmer and more like the Rurouni we know comes about after the fighting end. I tried to stay true to the series there, but Kenshin doesn't even notice it here. It's headcannon that he doesn't know that his eyes change color until at least a year into his atonement wandering.

-And...I think that's it. Sorry, lots of notes there.


"Shishou." Himura Kenshin's head snapped up at the sound of his master's voice, singing softly to himself in time with his footsteps. The young hitokiri was anxious. On one hand, Hiko Seijirou was the only father he could remember, and he loved the man as such. To see him again, to have another chance to explain himself and maybe earn forgiveness...Kenshin would do nearly anything to earn Hiko's forgiveness.

On the other hand, how could he face his master, the man who had given him so much, with so much blood on his hands? Hiko would never forgive him when he saw how stained Kenshin's soul had become. The best he could do would be to hope for a quick death.

"Freeze, Shinsengumi!" The annoyingly familiar voice of Nagakura Shinpachi, second Captain of the Shinsengumi shouted. "Stop right there, you damn redhead!"

How had they spotted him? He had made sure to stay out of their sight. His mission was to track the Shinsengumi unit that was on patrol and only engage them if they approached Katsura's meeting.

"Maa, maa." Hiko's voice called out in a gentler tone than Kenshin had expected. Was he interceding on Kenshin's behalf? The small redhead felt his hopes rise and he tried to squash them. "I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"I may not know you as well as Saitou or Okita, but how many redheads are there in Japan?" Nagakura accused. "Your strange disguise won't fool me."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about. I have no wish to fight you, but I will defend myself if you attack." Hiko's voice answered, confusing Kenshin.

"Will you bet your life on your defense?" Nagakura challenged.

"The question is, are you willing to bet yours?" Kenshin felt more than heard the swordsmen lunge at each other and the infamous manslayer dropped from his hiding spot on the roof to the street, ready to fight at his teacher's side, not that Hiko would ever need help of course, but it would help them to segue in to an actual conversation.

What Kenshin didn't expect was to see two redheads crossing blades.

"How many redheads are there in Japan?" Nagakura cried in shock, repeating his earlier statement as the short second unit captain caught sight of Kenshin.

The redhead he was fighting turned to look at Kenshin, his eyes widening slightly in amusement.

"This must be the man you mistook me for. Now that we've cleared up this understanding I'll be on my way." He withdrew his blade and sheathed his sword, all the serious ki that had surrounded him gone.

Kenshin barely noticed his movements. This man had Shishou's voice!

"Not so fast." Nagakura commanded. "If you're on the side of the Ishin Shishi then I can't let you go."

The Shinsengumi captain didn't looked pleased at the thought of facing down Battosai and this new threat, but he wasn't willing to back down. He had pledged his life to the Shinsengumi and if he died in the service that was an honorable death.

"You have a brave heart." The Hiko-voiced redhead told Nagakura with a sly smile. "It would be a shame for a man like you to lose his life so carelessly."

Nagakura watched him suspiciously, waiting for him to draw his sword again.

"Which is why I'll do this." The stranger turned and ran in the opposite direction of Nagakura Shinpachi, past Kenshin.

Battosai and Nagakura stared dumbly after him for a moment. Kenshin recovered first and sprinted after the man, which knocked Nagakura out of his stupor.

Fortunately for Kenshin he was more experienced at sprinting and tracking, being a shadow killer rather than someone who patrolled the streets in the open and Nagakura was soon left behind.

"You're quite the persistent one, aren't you?" Kenshin's yellow eyes tracked the source of the voice and found the man in a back alley, a conical straw hat adorning his head and covering his distinctively colored hair.

"Who are you?" Kenshin demanded, his voice slightly raspy. His line of work meant he had little use for speaking most days.

"Shanks." The man answered with an easy-going smile, extending his right hand in what Kenshin vaguely recognized as the western method of greeting. It was only then that he noticed that the person before him was missing his left arm.

Shanks noticed his stare and withdrew his right hand.

"You held back Nagakura with one arm." Kenshin stated bluntly. Not only did this man have his master's voice, but apparently his skill as well.

"Nagakura? Was that his name? He's a fine swordsman, very honorable." There was a gleam in Shanks' eyes that was oh-so-Hiko like. Kenshin felt he was ten years old and being tested again.

"He is."

"Then why do you fight him if he's a good man?" There was the catch.

"The people are suffering." Kenshin answered blankly. Whatever mental defenses this man had gotten through with his voice were instantly back up. Who was this stranger to judge him?

"And good men fighting each other will stop that?"

Kenshin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "I can't just sit by and do nothing!"

Shanks chuckled and raised his hand in surrender. "I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm just curious if you've thought things fully through."

"There isn't time for that. Families are starving."

"Perhaps. But for every man you kill there could be a wife and family at home suffering. They'll starve without him." Shanks counseled.

"Did Shishou put you up to this? I wouldn't listen to him so he sent someone else to lecture me and bring me home?" Any thought Kenshin had of wanting to return to Hiko Seijirou's small house on the mountain vanished, over-ridden by his flaring emotions.

"Who?" Shanks wondered, cocking his head, his hat nearly falling off of his head.

"Shishou. Hiko Seijirou." Kenshin growled. "Foul-tempered, self-righteous, arrogant, ridiculously huge, and over-muscled swordsman? Lives in a tiny cabin on the top of a mountain because he's too conceited and jaded to leave with other people? Sake obsessed?"

"Never heard of him." Shanks grinned, amused by Kenshin's outburst. "Sounds like a fun guy though."

He lifted a jug of alcohol from under his cloak. "Sake?" He offered.

Kenshin eyed the jug with distaste.

"Not a fan I take it."

"It tastes like blood." Kenshin sneered.

"Ah." Shanks' eyes widened in understanding. "I'll save this for a later day then." He put the jug back away.

A silence overtook the two redheads and Kenshin fidgeted. This must be how other people felt when he gave them the cold shoulder.

"Do you think the fight is worth it?" He burst out. Hearing either acceptance or condemnation in Shishou's voice would help him, either way. Even if it wasn't actually Hiko speaking to him.

"I really can't say." Shanks answered wisely, dodging the question. "That's something you must decide for yourself. You have the noblest of intentions, but you have to ask yourself if your goals are worth your actions."

"We need a new age!" Kenshin protested.

"Then you have decided." Shanks' tone was calm and soothing, more so than Hiko's had ever been. "Just keep in mind the results of a new age built by fighting. An age built on blood is likely to slip."

"Then the fighting is necessary and unavoidable." Shanks concluded.

"It is."

"How do you plan to stabilize this new age of yours once you bring it about?"

Kenshin opened his mouth, but found he didn't have an answer. Honestly, he didn't plan on living that long.

"Keep the future in mind as you fight." Shanks advised. His hand reached up and took the straw hat from his head, placing it on Kenshin's. "Not all fights are necessary or worth it, but I'm sure you already know that."

Kenshin nodded, the hat comically dwarfing his tiny head. His blue eyes were clear with understanding.

"Thank you." He bowed to the man, feeling more at peace with himself than he had in years. After the fighting was over, if he survived that long, he had a lot of atoning to do, but maybe Shishou would speak to him. Not for a long time, of course, Kenshin knew better than most how long that man could hold a grudge, but there was still a small chance that Hiko would deign to speak to him.

"Not at all." A hand clapped him on his thin shoulder. Kenshin typically shied away from any casual human contact, but it was hard to refuse a man who saw what he was and still accepted him. Was this what was called "friendship?"

Even as the one-armed redhead removed his arm and waved his good-byes and fare-wells the warm feeling remained within Kenshin's belly. For within the streets of the capital, streets that he had covered in blood, he had made his first real friend.


Omake:

"Damn kids, taking all of my favorite hats..."