Author's Note: This fic was originally published in 2003, abandoned halfway through and started getting this re-write in 2010. For those of you who are still here from then (I know there are a couple of you!), you are awesome, and for new readers, welcome! (And be glad you weren't here back then because this story was pretty terrible).

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

Changes In Friendship

Chapter One

Yamata Shousha was not an obedient girl. In fact, she thoroughly enjoyed making a point of being unruly and uncontrollable. It was for this reason, or so she assumed, that she was twenty-three years old and unmarried. She didn't mind not being married; she enjoyed her freedom, but it got quite irritating to walk down the street to the sound of gossipy whispers day in and day out.

This was why, standing in her parent's very modern, very western home, she leveled her gaze to her mother.

"Why haven't you married me off yet?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

Her mother, a serious woman with a spiteful soul, didn't even look up from her calligraphy. "The time is not right."

Her father sat in an armchair reviewing his ledgers. Shousha cast an annoying glance in his direction. Had she been younger, he might have stood up for her. With the war raging, he had become absorbed in the family finances, pulling political strings here and there to keep himself on top.

"What do you mean the time isn't right?" Shousha spat, stomping her foot.

"Are you in such a hurry?" the woman asked lazily, concentrating on her perfect brush strokes, "As much as I would love to send you off to the man who might be able to tame you, he might very well die and then we would be saddled with you forever. It is not a chance I am willing to take, so we will keep you for now."

Her father grunted in response.

Frustrated, Shousha turned and left the room, colliding with her maid who had been headed (rather hurriedly) towards the front door.

"My apologies, miss!" the maid cried out just loud enough for the mistress to hear, before dropping her voice and donning a feline grin. "They're not in the mood to play today, are they Shousha?"

Shousha pouted and looked to her friend, "I'm terribly bored, Tokio."

"And lonely," Tokio pointed out.

"Yes," the young miss sighed, "and lonely."

"Chin up miss. He'll be back soon."

Shousha plopped herself down onto the staircase and shoved her chin into her cupped hands. "I didn't want him to go in the first place. What if he is already dead? How long am I going to have to wait?"

Tokio patted her head lovingly and laughed, "You are too dramatic. Waiting for your long lost love like that makes me jealous."

Shousha swatted her hand away in protest, "He's not my long lost love! He's my best friend."

Tokio rolled her eyes and then peeked around the hall for any sight of the mistress or master. She'd received many a lashing before for being informal towards the family, but she wasn't planning on one today.

"Let's go out," she suggested, pulling Shousha up to a stand, "If you sit around the house and mope all day, you'll grow old and he won't recognize you."

With a smile, she agreed and the two girls headed out towards the marketplace.

"Do you ever plan on marrying, Tokio?" Shousha asked as they walked through the crowded streets of Kyoto.

"Ah, probably not," she admitted, laughing, "there was no arrangement made for me to marry and I don't suppose there is a man out there with his eyes out for a maid."

Shousha nodded. It was true. Her parents never gave the servants much time to themselves in order for them to have any sort of family life. Tokio was very beautiful; it was a shame she didn't have any opportunity to be married.

"Besides," Tokio added with a bright smile, "I have to work hard to care for my family."

Shousha smiled back, and held up the packages they had gathered on their outing, "It's getting dark. We should go home before-"

But it was too late. A flash of navy and white brushed by her and all of her purchases fell to the ground. Tokio called out to her friend but was knocked to the ground. Shousha reached over to help, but was intercepted by more masculine blurs. A bench broke her fall as she stumbled back, and she reached up to her throat to calm her breathing.

The sun had set and the clouds were rolling in over the moon. Since the rise of the Shinsengumi in Mibu, she had not been outside after dark by herself. She knew the dangers and even as rebellious as she was, had no intention of putting her life at stake. These were terrifying times and there were too many instances of 'wrong place at the wrong time' for her to believe that she might not be next.

But here she was, in the dark, outside, and there was a battle about to start on the streets. Tokio had been pulled into a shop, but she couldn't seem to move. Maybe it was for the better. If no one saw her, maybe they wouldn't hurt her. She closed her eyes as several footsteps approached her. Her heartbeat quickened and she did her best to shrink into the shadows. I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm not here.

"Are you stupid, woman? Get inside!"

Shousha opened one of her eyes and flinched. Before her stood a very tall, very menacing, very irritated Shinsengumi officer. His face was as angular as the hair that fell over his forehead and he wore a scowl that might very well frighten her mother into her grave.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered, "I was frightened."

"Don't play dumb with me," he growled, yanking her to her feet with a threatening grip on her wrist, "I know who you are. Your family has been causing quite a bit of trouble."

"Oh please, sir," she whimpered, not at all ashamed of being fearful of this horrifying man. "I don't know what you're talking about."

It was true. She knew that both her parents were politically active in the shadows of society where the most corrupt dealings were made to happen. She also knew that neither Choshu nor Shinsengumi were particularly fond of their business practices, though both seemed to be caught in their web. Being an unmarried maiden, Shousha had little need to know, as well as little ability to learn more about the situation.

"Please," she begged again, trying in vain to pull back her arm from the man's solid hold.

Just then, another man stepped forward.

"Saitou-san, what's going on here?"

That voice.

Saitou grunted and shoved Shousha back onto the bench. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with, Okita. Let's go."

Stepping into the light, Okita, a boyish looking man with a bright smile, knelt down to Shousha and grabbed her hand.

"My deepest apologies, miss. Saitou-san can be a little rough, but he doesn't mean any harm. Please, you must let me take you to safety."

Perhaps it was the grunting and clashing of swords just a couple feet over, or the sudden roaring wind in her ears, but she didn't hear anything he was saying. She watched his lips move, she felt him patting her hand, but all she could do was stare.

He was here. In front of her eyes, touching her, he was here. He was real, and he was alive.

"Ta-chan."

All she could do was whisper, but through the surrounding noise, it was enough. He brought his eyes up to meet hers and pure recognition flashed through them. His grip on her hands became tighter, as if he didn't ever want to let her go, then suddenly, it was gone.

"Yamata-san."

Shousha's heart sank. He had never in their entire lives addressed her so formally. All the warmth and the laughter was gone from his voice, despite his cheerful appearance. She was nothing to him. Not anymore.

"We must get you to safety. Come with me," he urged, pulling her up, but she snapped out of her daze and dug her heels into the ground. Who did he think he was leaving her for five years only to come back and address her like a stranger?

All the years of sorrow had suddenly turned to rage and try as she might to control it, she simply couldn't. She masterfully pulled her hand from his grip and took a step back, glaring at him. He stared back at her, in shock that she was tuning out her bloody surroundings for a reason unbenownst to him.

"You left me," she hissed.

Okita couldn't believe what he was hearing. She had aways been daring and unorthodox, but here in the streets of Kyoto, in the middle of bloodshed, she wanted to start an argument!

"Yamata-san, please. Come with me. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You left me all alone," she whimpered, backing up onto the cusp of the battle. "For years."

Then, completely overcome by emotion, Shousha did something completely inappropriate and unlike herself.

She fainted.

Okita dove to catch the falling woman and at the same time she landed in his arm, his sword clashed with that of an unexpected opponent, causing sparks to rain down on the unconscious female. With a grunt and all the strength he could muster in one arm, he pushed himself up and the other man backwards.

"Don't touch her!" he yelled, dancing to the side as the man came back for more. Okita wasn't a large man so holding a woman awkwardly half over his shoulder compromised his normally incredible speed.

The man in navy came at him again, throwing his balance off just enough for Shousha to slip from his hold and roll onto the ground. Okita glanced in her direction for half a second too long and when he blocked the slashing of the katana, he felt himself exhale in surprise. Their swords weren't a centimeter from his shoulder.

"Almost lost an arm there, didn't you?"

Shaking himself from his relief, Okita ducked down and in one large and beautiful swing, sliced through his enemy's abdomen. The man let out a strangled cry, then fell to the ground, eyes open and mouth streaming blood. The others were dead as well, along with one of his comrades.

Catching his breath, he knelt to the ground, he checking Shousha's neck for a pulse and, when finding it, picked her up with little difficulty. Saitou hovered over him disapprovingly.

"You aren't thinking of taking her back," he challenged, knowing just how much trouble she would be. "She's a nuisance."

"Nonsense," Okita said plainly, motioning with his head to the others to head back to headquarters, "She's a dear friend. I can't leave her here."

Their walk back to the dojo they were using as their base was relatively silent as Okita was taking in the fact that he had been distracted enough to almost lose an arm, and Saitou was brooding about the thought of another woman at the dojo. The Shinsengumi wives were irritating enough with all their chatter and their gossip. An unmarried female would bring chaos.

It wasn't until the men had almost reached their destination when the clip-clap of geta could be heard. It was a frantic, unsteady rhythm as if the owner of the shoes was in a state of panic or having extreme difficulty with their own feet.

"Please!" a woman's voice cried out. "Please stop!"

The men all halted, turning to the darkness to the west where a small, slender woman emerged, doing her best to run towards them. Saitou's hand immediately lay to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"Oh please," she gasped, stopping just long enough to catch her breath. It wasn't dignified, and it wasn't at all ladylike, but manners be damned, women's clothing wasn't made for sprinting in.

"Give me. . .give me that girl."

Okita raised his eyebrows at this request. He wasn't sure which was stranger to him: seeing a grown woman panting in the middle of the street or said woman's request.

"And just who do you think you are?" Saitou sneered, stepping forward.

Still bent over, she placed her hands on her knees and jerked her head up to look him in the eye.

"My name is Takagi Tokio," she snapped, "and that is my mistress."

Finally finding her breath, she straightened and marched up to level with him defiantly. Shousha may have had a delicate upbringing, but she hadn't. She had no fear of the Shinsengumi or their 'toy swords' as she so often called them.

"Give her back. Now."

This sent a wave of laughter through the group of men, leaving Saitou even more unamused than before. Before any real damage could have been done, however, Okita stepped in.

"Takagi-san," he addressed her politely, "I'm afraid I can't let you take her home just yet. She is injured and will need to be monitored until she awakens."

Narrowing her eyes, Tokio raised her chin. "Do you believe me incapable of taking care of my own mistress?"

"No," he said with a knowing smile, "but I do believe you incapable of hiding her injuries from the lady of the house without punishment. Kanako-san has a very keen eye."

She opened her mouth to retort, but caught the laughter in his eyes. With a wide grin, she clapped her hands and gave a little bounce, before bowing deeply.

"Oh, Okita-san! It's you!"

"Yes. It's me."

She stared up at him dreamily. "Shousha talks of nothing else, you know."

Okita shifted Shousha's weight almost to visualize his discomfort. He had thought she had been talking out of shock when she had accused him, but it seemed that his leaving had done more damage than he imagined it ever would have.

Saitou crossed his arms and stepped towards the maid, gaining her attention. "It seems you no longer have any reason to be in our presence. Go."

But she didn't go. She crossed her arms back at him and glared at him. "I may be nothing more than a servant in the Yamata household, but here on the streets, I can hold my own and I will not take orders from a bully like you."

More snickers were elicited from the group followed by a humored, "Yeah Saitou, you big bully!"

Okita shrugged his shoulders playfully and began to walk away. "You may come to see her tomorrow afternoon, Takagi-san. If you don't know where to find us, ask around."

She bowed in thanks and smiled softly as he disappeared into the dark with his friend cradled limply in his arms.

"As for you," she said to Saitou with an arched brow as she pushed past him. "It seems I will deal with you tomorrow."

With a snarl, he grabbed her arm. "Don't be stupid, girl."

She smiled and patted his hand. "You're right. How silly of me. I simply can't walk home alone in the dark."

When he retold the story to his children, he would say that her grip was forceful, or she had daggers hidden in her kimono. He would say she held him at swordpoint, or even more threatening, gunpoint. No one would ever know that Saitou Hajime had accompanied Takagi Tokio the maid home that night because she had stunned him into compliance.