Running down the streets of Tokyo, Yahiko surveyed the people busy buying groceries and talking to friends, trying to find the easiest targets to pickpocket. He spotted a man, around his late thirties, who was occupied with haggling the price of some tofu.

He was foreign, and wore a brown suit with black shined shoes. Making a slight turn to the right, Yahiko was right on track to brush against the man's pocket, which had the prized coin sack visible. Looking up once more to make sure the blond, bearded man was still occupied, Yahiko looked down again, and charged.

It was all over in an instant. The man's money removed from his jackets pocket, found its way up Yahiko's sleeve, and both were on the ground.

'Got it!' Yahiko thought as he stood, offering the man a hand - the hand the newly attained money was not up - and apologized out loud.

Taking the offer, the man told Yahiko to be more careful next time, and went back to his bartering.

'Yes! Time for some drinks!'

The low-lit, crowded, sake bar had one seat left at the very end, set up against the far wall. Yahiko sat, ordered what he liked, and looked around.

'There's nothing like watching drunks at a bar! Hehehe...' he thought with amusement, snickering slightly, too silent to hear in the all-too loud setting.

Two men were pushing each other, until one eventually fell out of his chair.

'Seen it. Yawn, boring.'

A different man, who was drunk beyond reason, led a woman into the broom closet in the back of the bar, kissing as they walked in their drunken gait.

' I hope she's either getting payed, or she's drunk, cuz that guy is uuuuuggllyyyyy!' Yahiko thought, with another small chuckle.

"Man, that guy was disgusting! She's probably getting payed, huh? HAHAHA!" A high-pitched, smooth, voice cut through the smokey bar air, speaking to Yahiko.

Turning to his left, he saw a girl in a blue ninja suit, with lighter blue trim on the ends of the sleeves and the matching shorts. She smiled, only showing her top teeth, taking a swig of her drink, and looked to him.

'Huh... she seems pretty nice. Though, she's probably drunk, too. I should keep an eye on her so no perverts try to take advantage of her while she's like…this...'

"Haha! Exactly what I was thinking," he said, and stuck his right hand out for a handshake. "I'm Yahiko. Yahiko Myojin - son of a proud samurai. And... you are...?"

His voice was filled with such sentimental pride at the mention of his father, that she could tell, not only by his voice, but also by the way he carried himself as he spoke. His back was straight, and his shoulders squared.

"Misao Makimachi! A 'proud' ninja, and currently searching for someone - Aoshi. Have you seen him - or know anything about him? It's not a very common name, so if you've ever met anyone by the name, Aoshi, it's probably 'im!"

Misao looked at Yahiko with eyes full of hope. She had not had any luck of finding him, and she had been searching for over a month by this point.

'I'll have to go back to the Aoi-ya if I don't get a lead soon...' she thought with slight sadness.

Yahiko looked down at the bar, took a drink of the swill the bartender had given him, thinking back to all the people he had pick-pocketed and met along his travels - finally deciding none of them looked like an "Aoshi" kind of guy.

"N-no.. Sorry, I haven't. So, how uh.. How old are you? You seem kinda young; I was wondering how you get the money to buy so many…drinks..." He apologized, but quickly changed the subject to keep his new companion interested.

Misao puffed out her chest and pursed her lips, while Yahiko looked in disbelief at the gigantic stack of empty cups she had in front of her.

"HEY!" she said, pounding her fist on the table with the last sentence. "I've only had a few drinks!"

"You've had ten."

"What?"

"You've had ten drinks, and you're workin' on your eleventh…I counted the stack."

Both of them stayed silent, as a bead of sweat fell from each of their awkard-set faces. Finally, Misao spoke again.

"Uh.. I'm fourteen…" she addressed his question and continued to babble on. "I live in Kyoto with my grandfather. My parents died when I was a baby and Aoshi-sama, along with the others, took me in. They trained me, too! But... one day…they left me with Grandpa, and never told me where they were going.. So - here I am! I'm looking for the man I lo-o- uh... hehe.. Why am I telling you all this? S-sorry 'bout that! M-must be those drinks..."

As she told him her tale, she went through a range of emotions from awkward, to sad, to happy, to annoyed, and back again. Then, when she started talking about Aoshi leaving, her voice went quiet, and her eyes looking somewhere far away. The spunky youth had noticed all of this and got stuck replaying her voice over and over in his head. He'd never heard one so expressive and was completely captivated by that underlying hint of loneliness. The tone of someone trying to reach their goals… just as he was!

With a smile, Yahiko took this time to speak. "Its fine Misao, I get it. Y'know.. my parents are dead too. My mom died more recently, but my father died in the revolution."

Yahiko continued talking as Misao listened with the utmost intensity. Then, when he had shared to the fullest extent that he wanted, Misao took the oppurtunity to talk some more. They talked and laughed for hours on end, and even made some bets and partook in some people-watching.

Eventually, it was dark, and both of them too drunk to talk without slurring, or even at all. They each payed their respective tabs - with pick-pocketed money, no less! Pick-pocketing was just another thing they found they had in common. Their conversation that night had ranged from food, to new and beneficial pick-pocketing techniques, to their goals and dreams in life.

Walking out of the bar, they stopped under a tree just outside of town, and just sat, slumped against the bark. Misao didn't have a place to stay and neither did Yahiko, yet another commanality. Looking up at the stars, side-by-side, Misao leaned over to Yahiko, and her softly slurred whisper broke their silence.

"Thanks, Yahiko…I'm…really glad I met you~"

She gave him a quick peck on the lips, smiled, fell flat on her back with her arms out-spread, and passed out.

Yahiko blushed, kind of dazed about what had just transpired so suddenly.

'W-Wow... that was my first kiss.. eh, but we're both drunk, so it doesn't count. Besides, she was just thanking me for listening to her...' He gave a lopsided smile, content with the night's events.

Standing up, he whispered to her "Thank you, too, Misao. I'm sure you'll find Aoshi one…day. Good luck".

Stumbling back into town, Yahiko left the strange, ninja girl he met at the bar – along with the last bit of his money that was used to pay off her drinks - who he'd never forget - or ever see again.

~~~ 2 years later ~~~

Kenshin, furiously dueling with Aoshi Shinomori, not as the Rurouni, but as the blood-thirsty Battosai. Yahiko stood by Kaoru side, paralyzed by the on-going battle. Suddenly, the image of a girl in a blue ninja suit, passed out under a tree, flashed through Yahiko's head.

'Misao!' He thought, realization dawning on him. 'Could this be the Aoshi? The man she was looking for? … No.. I could never see this cold-blooded killer ever taking care of a child. Plus, that was two years ago. I'm sure she's found her Aoshi by now.'

He dismissed the image and idea from his head, thinking nothing more of its ridiculousness.

~~~ a month later ~~~

Misao grabbed Yahiko's shoulder, "You know Aoshi-sama?" She exclaimed, desperately trying to catch her breath. "Aoshi Shinomori! Where is he? TELL ME!"

~~~ a few hours later ~~~

Kaoru, Misao, and Yahiko were all back at the Aoi-ya. Kaoru was waiting by the door, worrying about Kenshin. Misao had gone off somewhere with her grandfather, and Yahiko was left by himself to train the remaining time away.

While training, he thought about Misao. He realized that she had forgotten that night, from a few years back, or she had just been too drunk and never realized what had happened - seeing as how she was drunk before he even took his place near her.

Yahiko decided to never mention anything, thinking that Misao was better off not knowing she had kissed the same guy who now calls her a weasel. He resolved to keep that day that he treasured so all to himself; and even though the same girl he shared his whole life story with that night was in the same building as him, two years after the fact, she would never know about that night - or that kiss.