Hi people, I'm back after a long, long time. Eh… this is a humour story, so it is drastically different from my previous Soujiro stories. For people who were looking forward to more of my other kind of Soujiro stories, I am very sorry. However, I have decided that my true calling is in writing humour fics, so why try to deny it? All my drama stories were just experiments anyway, so I have given in to temptation and here is my first ever funny Soujiro fic!

Do read, review and enjoy!

Are You Sure About This?

He hadn't decided when, but he had known all his life, that sooner or later, he would have to venture into Tokyo again. In fact, he had planned it ever since… well… ever since he discovered he had grown an inch. Part of his plan had been to walk to Tokyo and just… observe how his former enemies had been getting along. He would not let them know he was in town, of course. That would be… well… quite disastrous, honestly. His plans were not fully formulated, and he had still some minor details to work out.

But he was sure that this was not part of it.

"Eh… sir?" Soujiro tried to peer out of the bars from around his drunken cart-mate, a near physical impossibility. "Sir?"

"What?" the soldier riding next to the driver snapped.

"Well… when will we reach Tokyo?"

"That is for me to know, and you to find out."

Soujiro smiled painfully as he eased back onto his almost non-existent seat on the bottom of the cart and shifted the chains around his ankles and wrists painfully. He had actually no idea what his crime was, but one moment he was sleeping out in the open forest, and the next moment, he was chained up in the jail cart and taken back to the prison in Tokyo. They had not known he was the Tenken; they were so minimally armed he would have been able to take them all out in five seconds – if he hadn't been half drugged when they found him.

Maybe that was his crime. He wrinkled his nose as he observed the cart full of drunken, puking, sleeping men. They had thought he was a drunk, when he had merely been sleeping off the effects of the sleeping dart the assassin he had ran into last night used on him.

Ah. That must be it.

He really didn't know how humiliated he would feel should his former enemies discover the great and mighty Tenken had been finally caught – because he was supposedly drunk.

Ok, cancel that out. He knew how he would feel.

Totally, completely humiliated.

Shifting slightly again, he smiled weakly when he suddenly recalled a particular smirking face from a not too distant past, who, if he remembered correctly, still worked at the Tokyo Police Department.

This was not going to be pleasant day.

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Said smirking face had been smirking at him for five seconds now, and by all manners of etiquette, Soujiro felt he had to say something.

"Hi, Saito-san."

A puff of smoke escaped from the smirk. "Hello, Seta Soujiro."

Smiling harder than he had ever smiled in his entire life, Soujiro mumbled, "Well… I wasn't drunk, really. I was drugged."

"Ah? Is that so?"

"Yes… and well… I am very honoured by your high opinion of my skills but…"

"High opinion? What makes you think that?"

Soujiro stared at Saitou over his smile then looked around at the twenty swordsmen surrounding him in a perfect circle with their katanas pointing straight at his throat.

"Well… I was just assuming…"

"You assume too much."

"Ah." Soujiro's smile weakened as twenty more soldiers formed another circle outside the circle of swords, and aimed rifles at him. "I should think so too…" Outside the circle of rifles, ten men came up, straining and pushing three cannons. "Really…"

"So…" the word dragged out along with a puff of smoke, "how have you been. Seta-san? Not plotting anything, I hope."

"Oh no." Soujiro hesitated. "Well… I had been thinking of dropping by Tokyo and visiting Himura-san…"

"Visiting?"

"From afar."

"Ah… and?"

"Well… I planned it for the summer, but apparently, your men had decided to bring my plans forward." Soujiro determinedly fixed the smile on his face as an army of archers took their place just behind the cannons.

"I see." The cigarette was dropped on the ground and snuffed out, and another one took its place amongst the smirk. "But you have your previous crimes to pay for, of course."

"Eh… I have been doing charity all the time I had been wandering. You can ask the Hokkaido's Home for the Elderly and…"

"Oh, I'm sure, I'm sure." A flick of ash. "But, you see, the law still requires you to answer for it in a legal manner."

"Legal?"

"Oh yes, legal."

"Eh… the way… Kamatari and Chou answered for it?"

"Oh… that is only if you want to take it that way. But our government is good, and there is always the alternative."

"Which would be?"

"Execution."

"Eh…"

"Oh, don't take it that way. The government really is good. Even in execution, you get to choose the way you want to die."

"I don't…"

"Don't reject it so fast, young man. Shukuchi is for running, not for thinking."

"But."

"There are marvelous ways to die, Seta. You have a wide variety to choose from, including hanging, drowning, death by firing squad, beheading, being tortured to death, being tickled to death, being burnt to death, or committing ritual suicide. All are insured of course, so if the first attempt fails to end your life, we take you back to your cell, nurture you back to health then try to kill you again and again until you finally kick the bucket. Never in your life would you ever get such a chance, young man. So, what do you say?"

Soujiro slumped heavily as best he could in his new suit of chains, locks (numerous locks) and long strips of white cloth. "I think I would very much prefer to serve the government than to end my life."

Immediately, the smirk turned to a scowl. "Do you know how much paper work and manpower I would have to put into that as compared to executing you?" the former captain snarled, "You troublesome nut! Why couldn't you have gotten drugged somewhere else other than within my jurisdiction."

Soujirou watched cautiously until the tall, lanky figure had stormed out of sight before allowing a small smile of victory to grace his face. He hadn't gained back all his emotions yet, but the one new vice that he now took pleasure in was being highly vindictive.

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After being stripped off his rags, given a bath and dressed in a new set of clothes (which somehow were highly similar to the ones he had worn previously, just without the dirt), he had been summoned to Saitou's office for a briefing.

As expected, his new boss was not in a very pleasant mood. "Good morning, Seta," he growled in way that inspired no joy at the goodness of the morn, "Sit there and listen the best you can."

"Yes sir," Soujiro chirped. Happily, he flopped down on the chair and smiled, which earned him another scowl and a glare that was quite capable of killing, as proven by the vase of flowers behind Soujiro that wilted away upon receiving the glare.

"You are now in the squad under my command," Saitou growled, "you will be allowed to carry a sword, but you will only kill who I tell you to kill. Your main jobs would include playing messenger boy, spying and maybe a few undercover jobs. When a job comes, I will inform you."

"Yes sir."

"Stop the 'yes-sirring'. It's irritating."

"But all your men do it."

"I order you to stop."

"Yes… eh… ok."

"You will live in the police hostel. There is a room that has been made available for you. You will sleep, eat and basically, live in that room. Under no circumstances are you to leave that room without my permission. Is that clear?"

"What if I need to use the bathroom?"

"Then you will inform the guard outside your room who will then send a letter of permission to me to be read at my pleasure, and it will then be returned to you with a reply as to whether your request has been accepted or denied within a space of three hours."

"…"

"Or you can just use the window."

"Ah…"

"Your meals will be taken care of by the police catering services. There will be sent to your room at specific periods of the day. Three meals, no more, no less. You will have a steady supply of drinking water and tea in your room. No alcohol is to be consumed within the premises. Once a day, at a specific time, you will be led by a guard squad to the bath, where you will take a bath."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes it is."

"Ok."

"If that is clear, then all is good." Saitou leaned back and puffed furiously at his cigarette. "You will find clothes in your room to change into, and your sword has already been delivered there."

"Is it the one you guys took from me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm fond of that sword."

"You will be paid by the government, of course. It is a measly sum that is insufficient to fulfill any desires to conquer Japan."

"Eh… that would be?"

"Two yen a day."

"Ah…"

"It is being paid merely to continue the act that you are a mere policeman."

"Who has a guard squad following him around all the time?"

"Of course."

"Eh… so… who's in my guard squad?"

"You've already met then just now."

"Ah…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Isn't anyone going to find three cannons, twenty swordsmen, twenty gunmen and twenty archers following me around highly suspicious?"

"I suppose so, but it isn't my call."

"Ok."

There was a long silence then Saitou sighed in a cloud of smoke. "Don't do anything stupid," he murmured, "Or I will be forced to take extreme measures."

"I don't think I will."

"Good." Taking a paperweight from the table, Saitou bounced it in his hands for a while then threw it at the door, forcing Soujiro to dodge.

"What was…"

"Secretary!" Saitou roared through the hole he had created.

"Yes sir," the nameless secretary said, calmly appearing with his head at the hole.

"Get someone to bring our new recruit to his room."

"As you wish, sir."

Soujiro smiled wryly as he returned his head to its former position. "I guess we will be working together from now on."

"Don't remind me."

"Ok. Just thought I should… be polite."

"I don't do politeness. The red head down at the dojo does. You can go see him and be polite to each other."

"…"

"…"

"I… don't think I will do so. That sounds awfully weird when you put it that way."

"It was meant to. Don't go around telling everyone you are the Tenken."

There was a gasp from outside the door then a random policeman went running down the corridor screaming the identity of the new recruit.

Saitou sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he picked up a brick at the base of his table and threw it at the door again. "Secretary!" he roared.

"Yes sir?" the head of the secretary inquired, appearing at the second hole made.

"Get rid of that idiot and make sure no one listens at my door anymore."

"Yes sir."

"So…" Soujiro tried, "I guess I got to keep a low profile."

"As low as possible." They both winced when a burble of gossiping voices floated into the window from the first floor.

There was a knock on the door and Chou came in. "You called?" he questioned then stared at the new recruit.

"Hi, Chou! What a long time it has been since we last met!"

"S… Soujiro?"

"Yep!"

There was a long silence then Chou turned around and was just about to break into a mad run when Saitou cleared his throat. "Take the boy to his room."

Chou shot a dirty look at the man then glared at his former comrade. "Ok. But if I die, the government has better increase my pay."

"Don't worry. I will personally ensure that."

"Good." Chou gestured weakly with his hand and Soujiro trotted out of the door after him.

Saitou smirked and leaned back. He had seen better days, but he had seen worst. After all, what was there to fear from a follower who had lost his leader?

Then he recalled that the follower was the Tenken with supersonic speed, a rare gift in fighting and whose last occupation included being the former right-hand man of Makoto Shishio.

Half a cigarette later and Saitou was back to his old scowling self.

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