Author's Notes: Because this doesn't really fit into the current timeline of CiF, I'm posting it as it's own little story so I can have a little bit more freedom with events and I don't have to worry about blending it with the other chapters. :)

To anyone who is reading this for Harada and hasn't read CiF but intends to, there are spoilers for chapters 27 & 28 (in which a major plot event occurs). If you don't intend to read it, continue on :D

When I first began CiF, I pretty much lived in Wikiland (I still frequent, even if I disregard/deny a lot) and after reading that Harada had gone off and gotten himself hitched, I felt I needed to have it mentioned. The more I thought about it, however, the more it began to develop and that's how I ended up here.

I hope you enjoy it :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs.

ONE: Unsteady Casanova

"You're staring again. Harada-san."

Harada Sanosuke tore his attention from the pottery shop and turned to his short, youthful friend, Okita Soushi.

"I was juss' lookin'."

Okita smiled as he always did and shook his head. They were on their way back to the dojo, after having spent an hour by the forest. It was something Harada did quite frequently and when the woman Okita loved so dearly had been suddenly swept up by Katsura and the Choshu, Harada thought it might just be a good idea to take his heartbroken comrade on his woodland journeys.

At first, Okita had laughed off the idea with a wave of his hand and a bright, I'm fine, Harada-san., but Harada knew better. They all did. After several days of coaxing and persuading, the freakishly cheerful captain had agreed. It was only an hour after all.

The next day his reluctance was noticeably short lived and in the days that followed, Harada found him waiting.

The serenity of the forest took the edge of off daily life for Harada. In just that one hour, sitting in silence and listening to nature's activity, he felt normal. The birds were his favourite. They would sit there and chatter, chirp, and sing as if they were holding a conversation. The difference in pitches, the long notes vs the bitter snippets of sound; it was all so entertaining to him.

The routine of it all helped too. Harada wasn't the sort of man who enjoyed schedules or monotony, but he liked to know that there were consistencies in life; that there were some things he could depend on to not surprise him.

She was one of those things.

He didn't know who she was, but every afternoon on his walk back to headquarters, she would emerge from the potter's shop, send the little old woman inside, and take her place amongst the bowls and the vases, waiting for a customer.

She was a beautiful creature, gentle, and delicate, but with a clear air of confidence. From what he observed in those brief moments of passing, she was traditional and calm; a welcome change from the two whirlwinds his friends had chosen. It wasn't that he thought ill of Tokio and Shousha's unconventional and often reckless ways; he loved them both dearly, almost as much as his own sister, and that was exactly what those sorts of women were. Sisterly. Friends.

Now it would be wrong to say that he had never been attracted to them. Well, not both of them; it had always been known that Shousha was Okita's girl, but before Saitou had laid his claim on Tokio, Harada had, in fact, made several attempts to win her affections. She never returned his advances with anything more than a roll of her eyes and this didn't bother him at all. He had lovers abound.

Until now. He had lost interest in most of the woman whose hearts he held, instead looking forward to those brief seconds when he walked home.

The first day he had noticed the woman at the pottery shop, he had glanced at her face once and her body twice. Happy with what he saw, his eyes moved to her the next day as well. By the end of the first week, he could safely say that her eyes were nearly as black as the hair she wore in a loose braid over her shoulder. By the second week, he noticed she was left handed. At the end of the first month of knowing of her existence, he knew that the shop she worked at was run by her grandmother, she was unmarried (either a maiden or a widow, he wasn't quite sure about that detail), twenty years old, had no siblings, and possessed a lovely singing voice.

What he didn't know was her name.

"You should talk to her, Harada-san."

They had stopped walking, and it was Okita now who was staring at the object of his desire.

Harada scratched the back of his neck. "What would I say?"

Okita looked at him, surprised. Harada Sanosuke was never at a loss for words when in the company of a woman.

"I suppose that would depend on what your intentions are."

"My intentions."

Okita shifted and turned to his friend. "Yes, Harada-san. What do you want with her? Friendship? One night? Several nights? A lifetime?"

Harada froze. A lifetime. Of all the scenarios he had been presented with, that seemed to be the only fitting answer. She did not seem to be the type of woman who would give herself up for one night and he doubted she had any intention of making a mistress of herself. Friendship alone was out of the question as physical desire accompanied the emotional pull that he felt towards her.

He was in his mid-twenties. It was about time he found himself a bride and settled down.

"You're right," he said, slapping his fist into his open palm. "I'll go say something."

He could feel Okita's encouraging smile on his back as he headed towards the shop. It wouldn't be so hard. He had a million lines he could use. He'd open it up with a polite classic. His prince charming greeting.

I beg your pardon, miss, (cue roguish smile) but would you honor me with a moment of your time?

Once he had her attention, he would invade her space just enough to send a cute little blush scattering across her cheeks, then back away before she had a chance to realize how close they had been. She'd question if it was his scent filling her nose or the soap maker next door. She'd wonder if she'd felt his hand brush hers or if she was imagining it.

She would need to know.

That was how it worked. Women were simple. There were only a few tricks he needed to pull before they wrapped themselves quite willingly around his finger and soon afterwards, around more dangerous parts of his body.

His heart was pounding as he came up to the displays outside of the storefront. It was an unusual feeling for him, nervousness. His confidence with the opposite sex was unmatched in all the men he knew, sometimes bordering on cocky.

Before he could open his mouth, his foot connected with a large vase and he let out a small cry of panic as he fumbled to right it. The woman looked up, casting him a nervous glance, but he gave her a goofy grin in response.

"Sorry 'bout that."

She smiled at him, making her way around the table she had been arranging.

"Can I help you with something, sir?"

"Yes."

How eloquent of him. It seemed that his prince charming move was out the window now and he had to do some quick thinking. His mind, however, was completely blank.

She was staring at him with those dark eyes of hers. They were big. Huge, even. He couldn't help but wonder if she were human at all or just a life sized doll. There were three freckles next to her nose that had never noticed before. Of course he hadn't noticed. He'd never been this close.

"What is it that you are looking for?" she asked politely, "most of the pieces you will find here are made by my grandmother, though a select few were my mother's."

Still, Harada didn't say anything. Was she completely orphaned or was her father around somewhere? If she didn't have parents, when had she lost them? If she had been young, not having any siblings must have made grieving even more difficult, with no one to lean on. He couldn't imagine his life without his sister, even if he hadn't seen her in years.

". . .sir?"

She was nervous now and he kicked himself internally. If he didn't say something to clear the air of the tension that was settling in, his chance might be ruined forever. He searched his mind for something clever to say. He wracked his brain and dug through previous encounters with females, but all that managed to escape his lips was:

"Will you marry me?"

Shocked, the woman covered her mouth to hide what might have been the beginnings of a scream. Her breath quickened for a few seconds, but then she calmed, straightened and gave him a strangely maternal look of concern.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she said, stepping closer to him and lowering her voice so as not to humiliate him if anyone were listening, "but are you drunk?"

Drunk?

"No- yes, I mean NO! No. No I am not drunk."

She didn't seem convinced and Harada could hardly blame her. He wasn't doing a very good job of proving his sobriety. If only Hijikata could see him now. He was quite certain that this spectacle could cause even his stoic demon of a friend to laugh himself into an early grave.

"I see," she said slowly and Harada straightened, rubbing his face with his large hands.

"Forgive me." he started, "you prolly think I'm some big dumb idiot, but I'm not, I swear."

She looked around, possibly seeking an escape, hero, or weapon. He only hoped it wasn't the latter. He couldn't hit a girl, not even in his own defense. They were too delicate.

"I've been watchin' you for a while now," he confessed before clenching his jaw. Damn. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Watching me?" Her eyes grew, if possible, even wider and a blush that was not flirtation or infatuation, but fear rose up in her cheeks.

"Not like that," he groaned, reaching for a bowl and holding it out to her. "I'll just take this."

"But sir it's-"

"Please."

"A-alright," she said, taking the piece from his hands and wrapping it for him. He paid and turned, not giving her time to thank him, and cursing himself for being such a blundering oaf. Since when did women make him tongue tied? She hadn't even done anything that hinted at seduction, yet there he was, staring dumbly and speaking like a green boy.

"Sir?"

Harada closed his eyes. He didn't want to turn to face her, but he wasn't the sort of man to ignore a polite request from a girl. Cracking one eye open, he looked over his shoulder at her. She held out the package she had wrapped for him. Of course. He would forget it.

With a sigh he took the few strides back to her and when his hands brushed against hers as the parcel was handed over, it was completely unintentional. Her reaction, however, was exactly as it would have been had he planned it.

Recovering from her momentary loss of equilibrium, where her heart did some sort of strange pitter patter and her stomach was performing acrobatics she had never even heard of before, she looked up to him and smiled, her face slightly flushed.

"You may visit again tomorrow if you wish."

He grinned at this, not having expected it at all. Tucking his purchase away, he gave her another grin and a wink.

"I'll do just that."

He left then to join his short comrade and the old lady came up beside her granddaughter, jabbing her in the ribs with her cane.

"What was all that about, Masa?"

The raven haired beauty turned to her guardian and let out a small sigh. "A suitor, grandmother. He wants to marry me."

The old woman squinted her eyes at the Shinsengumi pair who were still standing in the middle of the road, discussing something, most likely the event that had just transpired.

"That little guy? The evening breeze will knock him right over."

"Not him," Masa said softly, putting her hands on her grandmother's shoulders and bending over to whisper excitedly into her ear, "The tall handsome one."

Snorting, she huffed. "He looks like a rooster!"

Masa pouted her lips slightly. Her grandparents were constantly complaining about her lack of suitors. It wasn't that no men had ever desired her hand, but that the ones who had, Masa had quickly rejected. Her guardians didn't know this of course, as they very well would have picked out any of the gentlemen for her and sent her on her way.

She wasn't a rebellious girl, and she didn't have any grandiose visions of love, but she did want to be happy. Before ten minutes ago, all of the men who had tried for her had been either boring, hideous, or extremely arrogant. Masa was fully ready to serve and honor a husband, but it would be extremely difficult to compliment a man who spent his entire day singing his own praises. She just wasn't creative enough.

"But he's handsome," she said, trying not to sound as if she were dreaming (though she was), "and strong. Just look at him."

But her grandmother clucked her tongue. "That's all well and good child, but look closer and you'll see that he's a soldier."

Masa bit her lip. "Isn't that a good thing?"

She had always thought that a man who fought for what he believed in was a man to be honored and respected. It showed that he had a certain sense of morals and beliefs that he wouldn't ever turn from. More than that, the man who had just proposed to her wore a Shinsengumi uniform. From what she had heard, their training was strict, terrifyingly so, and they were insanely organized.

Maybe it was because she didn't understand the politics behind it, but while most of the city scowled at the men in blue, Masa cheered them on.

Secretly, of course.

Grandmother would have a fit if she knew such unladylike thoughts were entering her head.

"You don't want to marry a soldier," the old woman said bitterly, "so get it out of your mind right now."

"Why not?" Masa pressed, giving a smile to a regular of theirs who had come to browse.

"Forget him."

"He was very funny," she tried gingerly, knowing the woman's clandestine love for humor. He hadn't meant to be funny, and in the moment, she had been scared, but replaying his clumsy words and actions caused her to giggle.

The thud of the cane caused Masa to jump and she knew that the conversation was about to end.

"Marry a man like that and you have no certainty," her grandmother bit off. "You'll lay your head down to sleep each night and it's a very good chance that when you wake up, he'll be dead. Is that what you want? To be a widow at twenty, twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

Accepting the authority over her, Masa bit her tongue as she received another jab to the ribs.

"Be a good girl and have some sense. Keep your heart out of this war. Nothing good will come of getting involved."

Left alone outside, Masa snuck one last glance at Harada as he and his friend headed home. She wasn't a rebellious girl, but as she thought about the visit he would make tomorrow, both her heart and stomach involuntarily fluttered.

That couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

xxxx

Author's Note: This was going to be a one-shot like A Leg for a Wife, but then I thought better of it as little things here and there began to pop up.

This will be maybe 2-4 chapters in total, just for fun. :)

Merry Christmas!