Housekeeping Demons

By: Lady Isaiah
July 2013


Summary: It's 1867, a few months before the first engagement of the Boshin War at Toba Fushimi. And Kenshin's bedridden. How does the Ishin Shishi care for their Battousai?


『ただ隠せないもの、飾ったように見せかけて。。。』

"Tada kakusenai mono, kazatta youni misekakete…"

[The thing that cannot be hidden, pretending like it's been decorated…]


Kyoto, Japan
Keio 3, 12th Day of the 10th Month"
Thursday, November 7, 1867

Isaza watched as Himura Battousai grappled with the damned Shinsengumi. Back and forth they clashed, blurs in the fading light.

"Not good, not good…" Isaza murmured. He whistled a high-pitched tune, hoping Himura would get the message: "retreat" in hawk-song. Just as Isaza turned to clamber up the embankment, he took one last look back. The Shinsengumi bastard had pinned Himura Battousai against the wooden bridge.

Himura's eyes went wide. Something was wrong. He toppled from the bridge, wooden splinters rained down with him. Isaza waited for Himura's red hair to come bobbing back up, but he never did.

"Kuso…" Isaza muttered. Leg muscles tensed, ready to dive into the river, but the Shinsengumi shadow stood at the mouth of the break, looking down. A quick walk around and he was sliding down the embankment. This Shinsengumi wasn't a captain or even a vice and neither was he tall or remarkable looking.

Isaza cursed again, this time more violently. He hoped that Himura decided to stay submerged only to wash up downstream, where Isaza waited and then they both could make their escape back to the Hiiragiya Bekkan Ryokan.

But of course not.

Hands launched from the water and dragged the Shinsengumi down by the ankles. Splashes of water rose as Battousai and the Shinsengumi soldier fought, sending blades of water droplets out in broad arcs. With a great streak of what almost seemed to be lightning, the sprays broke into silence.

The Shinsengumi soldier fell. Isaza's eyes were pinned on the corpse as he floated down the river and passed him: eyes open and skyward, stabbed through with his own blade. Isaza breathed a sigh of relief and looked towards Himura. Distantly, he could see a form, underneath the eaves of the bridge, lodged amongst the rocks. He wasn't moving. Either Himura's wounds from the long road trip not a week prior did him in or he'd received a few more from their now dead friend. Or both.

Staying low and close to the reeds, Isaza slunk upstream. The Kamagawa was not a fast-flowing river nor was it deep, only about a meter, but it was a river that had a thousand little inlets and as Emperor Shirakawa said back in the 11th century, it was unmanageable, eroding away anything it could, going where it will. Isaza thanked the Kamagawa Spirit that his waters had not taken Himura to who knew where. Who knew where the Shinsengumi would end up?

Well, at least things had changed a bit in the last 700 years.

Isaza crouched, reaching Himura. He took another minute, glancing around, attempting to sense any ki, but did not. Now to Himura, who was completely passed out. He was rather childlike in this state if it wasn't for the huge black mark and bleeding head wound marring his right eye. Isaza smiled. But he looked much worse than he did before and Isaza paled.

"Knew we shouldn't have taken this mission so soon," he muttered.

He gripped Himura's shoulders and hauled him onto the ground, shuddering from the cold November water. Isaza wondered morbidly how much blood intermixed with water. Shoulder wounds, a rake across the chest, and a cut to the side. Himura didn't even twitch, but gripped his katana tightly. He might still be on the edge consciousness.

"Battousai-san... Battousai-san..." Isaza whispered, not daring the prodigals of night. "Battousai-san..."

No reaction.

Isaza eyed the sword. That was Himura's lifeline. Even after all this time, he never stopped the mantra, "I am Katsura's sword." A tool. A mindless weapon with the unspoken meanings and all that entailed being an emotionless manslayer, defining all Himura said and did. If Himura were aware at all, he would never let anyone touch the blade, let alone let it be taken from his grasp. Isaza mused he might get his head lopped off...but his amusement faded considering the state of his friend.

Clasping Himura's hand, Isaza pried the tight grip, finger by finger, from the hilt. Himura didn't so much as flutter an eyelid.

He slipped the katana away and pulled the sheath from Himura's hakama, sheathed the blade and placed it on himself. Isaza's jaw tensed as he hauled Himura up and slung the young man over his shoulders, one arm wrapped about his legs as the other clutched Himura's arm. His knee gave a pained twinge, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Isaza cast about again, sensing ki or any other sign of life, and blessedly, he felt they were still alone. Yet he could not afford to linger.

Okami's new place was on the other side of Kyoto, near the Takanogawa River. Instead of an average inn, she'd built a ryokan, after the Ikedaya was burnt down a good two to three years ago. It wouldn't be where the Bakufu would expect the Shishi, or so she said. But for all the glamour of a ryokan, it'd still take an hour to get back.

He hustled up the slope, crossed the path, and slunk into the shadows of Kyoto's old streets. Isaza wasted no time getting Himura back to the ryokan in the Nakagyo Ward, keeping to the shadows as much as he could and only sacrificing stealth when he felt truly safe to do so. He prayed to the Kyoto spirits to smile down on them this night. Himura started shivering a great deal halfway there.

"Making me break all my own rules, kid," he grumbled. He turned a corner and just up an alleyway and onto another side road. There it was. Lights and lanterns still blazed signifying many of the men were still awake. It was only three hours after sunset anyhow.

He glanced this way and that down the road and seeing - sensing - only the usual individuals in their homes and inns, he scurried across and ducked under the noren.

"Akane-chan. Good…I just caught you."

A young serving girl looked up from sweeping the entryway floor, doing the last of the chores before closing. Any later, and she'd already have been in bed. She flushed, eyes widening at the site of Isaza and the red hair that trailed over his shoulder and down his front. Akane gasped as Isaza pulled Himura from his aching shoulders and laid him down, letting the young man's feet dangle off the edge into the entryway. In the blazing light of the lanterns, Isaza could see Akane's shock had more than enough merit. Himura's skin paled to a deathly grey with tinges of red. Resting the back of his hand against Himura's forehead, Isaza felt the burn of a fever.

"Akane-chan. Get Okami-san and prepare a room for Battousai-san." And maybe even a doctor, he thought. But he wanted to wait and see what Okami said first.

The girl scurried off, Isaza barely watching.

"Battousai-san…" Isaza spoke louder now they were in welcome company. He patted Himura's cheek, avoiding the nasty bruise. "Battousai-san… Himura-san…"

Himura shuddered, grimacing, and grasping weakly at his own shoulders as he squinted his eyes closed as if hoping to ward off the cold with darkness. A little better than before, but Isaza knew that Himura was far from awake, lost to the mazes of the mind and dreams. A fever could have been from the river, infection in the new wounds, from the just-healed ones from their three-week trek back from Nagasaki, or all three.

Isaza pulled back a little bit of Himura's gi and winced. The blood wasn't gushing, but a slow bleed still trickled down his chest and side. He pressed a hand to a particular shoulder wound. Isaza smiled as Himura winced. Still with us. It was a sharp, direct thrust, deep, and so utterly close to the heart. Himura was lucky to be alive.

"Isaza-san? What's this about a doc – oh."

Isaza looked up to see Kano standing in the corridor and behind him Osamu. Great. Just great. This was not the publicity that Himura needed. At least he was unconscious…but maybe it would do to see these men see Himura wounded. Not just some demon to be had and scared of until his use and skill at warmongering ran out and then, and only then to see Himura as a human who'd gone mad. Himura emanated strength despite the weakness of the human body, yet no one had actually seen him this wounded before. Himura was 18, three years an adult, but still…young. And not mad, but pained.

The shocked look on Kano's face certainly said he was struggling with the similar idea. Osamu was a friend, sort of. He talked to Himura like a normal person, but still kept his distance.

Kano and Isaza were still staring at each other when Kano pointed and asked, "Is any of that blood yours?"

"What?" Isaza stared down at himself, now seeing the streaks and splotches of dark red and water littering his shoulders and the feel of the wet river casted down his back. He suppressed an urge to shiver.

"No!" He started. Isaza turned and went back to tending Himura as best he could, burning and trembling beneath his fingers. He pulled Himura's zori off and grabbed a clean towel off a stack that Akane left to clean with and pressed it to the worst of Himura's wounds. Then whispered, "No. It's all Himura-san's. Where's Okami-san?"

"How?" Kano hadn't moved.

"What?" Isaza stopped and stood straight, glaring at Kano. Really? Like, really, really?

Osamu glanced at Kano as well. "What are you on about?"

"How did he end up…like that?" Kano's voice betrayed tinges of worry and wariness, not for Himura's sake.

Isaza frowned. "What's this about, Kano-san? Battousai-san was ambushed, all right? He hasn't fully recovered from his wounds a week ago with that horrendous trip. You were there, lest I remind you. Now, where is Okami-san?"

"Sure, Battousai-san's scary, but he's loyal through and through, Kano-san," Osamu butted in.

Ahh, so this is where he was going. Trust and betrayal.

"If I can remind you, Kano-san, Battousai-san's the most loyal patriot the Ishin Shishi has. This was not a matter of bloodlust and him going berserk or whatever it is you're thinking, isn't that right, Isaza-san?" Osamu brushed past Kano and bent to inspect Himura. "He's definitely going to need a doctor. After Okami-san gets him settled in, I'll run and get Fujiwara-senpai."

Isaza bowed. "Thank you, Osamu-san."

"I apologize, Isaza-san," Okami bundled down the corridor and with a finger beckoned the pair. "I was helping Akane-chan prepare a room. Poor girl's in a fright. Now, Kano-san, please go back to your game unless you plan on helping."

The bite in her voice echoed all too evident and Isaza almost dropped Himura as he picked him up. Kami-sama, he never wanted to get on Okami-san's bad side. He stopped next to Kano as the man let him pass and whispered a quiet warning, "If you must know the details, go ask Katsura-sama in the morning. I'm sure he'd love to tell you all you need to know."

Isaza followed Okami down the corridor, Osamu trailing behind. He clutched Himura tight, not realizing how heavy he was. Himura was rather small for his age. He vaguely wondered how many men were still awake or in the rooms and got his answer when they crossed the tatami of the main communal hall. Not many, but enough. They sat, smoking their pipes, chatting, or playing games around their kotatsus. They didn't quite realize who entered, Himura's familiar swordsman ki now weakened, until the bright flash of Himura's flame-red hair pulled their eyes away. No overbearing ki. No power or strength exuded from the young man, yet there he was. It was like the men were finally given permission to stare.

"Nothing to see here," Osamu called out in his happy voice. "Ah, Yasuo-san! Watch out, I think Tetsuo-san's trying to cheat."

Yasuo turned around, eyes playing over the dice. "What!?"

"Am not!" Tetsuo yelled, staggering up and jostling the table.

"Maa, maa… but look, Yasuo-san. He's got you." Osamu pointed and continued on explaining why the poor young man, Yasuo, had lost the game.

Thank you, again, Osamu-san, Isaza thought as they walked on and up the stairs. Eyes struggled to stare at their games or gall at the sight of their wounded Battousai, but Osamu proved distracting. No man wanted, nor needed, to be stared at as they were hauled unconscious through a crowd of men, least of all, Himura-san. When they reached the top of the stairs, whispers flooded from below along with Osamu's bellowing laugh.

Okami led Isaza to a small room that overlooked the enclosed courtyard behind the ryokan. It was the traditional sick room and lately - luckily - the room was not in use. With the fall of the Bakufu at Nagasaki, they'd started retreating, giving the Ishin Shishi a stronger foothold. Many attempts were made along their road trip back to Kyoto. Apparently, Katsura's comrade, Sakamoto Ryoma, was making progress in negotiations with the Shogun, so they were bent on returning as soon as possible. As usual, Himura took his duties seriously (as expected), but also took much of the weight during their makeshift skirmishes, which resulted in said wounds.

The shoji slid open, Okami already making to kneel beside the futon. She produced a yukata and stack of white cloth. "Please get him out of those wet clothes and place them in the basket by the door. I will return with hot water. And you best change as well. I'll send for Fujiwara-senpai."

She left and carefully, awkwardly, and with painstaking care, Isaza did as she said. She could not be present for any undressing for she was no doctor, being a mere innkeeper, and a woman. Once he settled Himura on the futon, Isaza suddenly felt how exhausted he was, soreness and a desire to sit and close his eyes threatened to take over. No. He could not. He sat back on his heels, watching Himura. It didn't feel right leaving Himura alone until Okami, Osamu, or Fujiwara came to take watch. The red-headed young man still shivered every now and then, now dry, with temporary bandages pressed to his sides and shoulder, the bleeding already mostly stopped.

A knock resounded soft and quiet, but startled Isaza nonetheless. He turned and stood. "Come in."

In stepped Fujiwara-senpai, an elderly Kampo Physician, and Okami-san with her bucket of hot water. Immediately, Isaza knelt, giving Fuijwara a run-down of Himura's injuries, ones noticeable, and others, some severe or not, he found while removing his wet garments. Fuijwara nodded and shooed him away. Isaza met Osamu-san who hovered by the door, looking in. "How is he?"

"How does he look?"

"Like a wolf got it's teeth into him."

"You're half right." Isaza sighed.

Okami appeared between them, basket of Himura's stained clothing in hand. "Kindly close the door and remove yourselves before I kick you numbskulls out."

"Ah! Gomen nasai, Okami-san!" Osamu grinned and bowed, getting out of her way as she left.

Isaza muttered apologies as he exited the room, closing the door. Not an inch was left before Fujiwara's voice seeped through in that cracked old man's way. "One of you, stay and help."

Osamu and Isaza looked at each other.

"You look like kuso." Osamu grinned.

"Thanks..." Isaza frowned.

"You get cleaned up. Take a bath." He sniffed the air around Isaza. "Woohoo! You stink! Don't worry, I got this. Goodness knows what'll happen if Himura-san wakes up to your ugly mug."

"Thanks...I think." Isaza frowned again.

Osamu nodded and ducked into the room where Fujiwara was already mixing herbal remedies, the bitter smell assaulting Isaza's nostrils. Slowly he closed the shoji, Osamu and Fujiwara's conversation fading out.


Osamu knelt next to Kenshin, his grin fading into a grimace as he watch Fujiwara inspect the shoulder wound.

"The blade's tip broke off and is still embedded deeply. Hold this." Fujiwara shoved a bowl of horrible smelling herbs and a grinder into Osamu's hands. "Now where did that mixture go?"

Fujiwara squinted, casting about for some unnamed mixture. Osamu glanced between the grinder and and bowl in his hands then at Fujiwara. He took a gander and held them up. "Is it this the one?"

Fujiwara leaned forward and peered into the bowl with one wide eye. "Ahh, yes. Where did you find it?"

Senile old man...Osamu thought. He debated on not giving the medicine back. The old physician might kill Kenshin and go along smiling, happily mixing deathly poisons while his future patients begged for mercy. All the while, Fujiwara-senpai would forget what concoctions he'd cooked up because his brain was too old to decipher the labels or remember where he placed any mixtures, if he remembered to make them first.

Osamu was about to snatch the bowl from Fujiwara's reach when the man grasped both and set it aside. "Silly man, that's not the one. Ah! Here it is. Please sit Himura-san up."

Maybe Kenshin would survive Fujiwara's potions, but Osamu wouldn't bet his life on it. Gently wrapping an arm around Kenshin, he lifted the younger man to a sitting position. Fujiwara waved a vial underneath his nose. "Wakey, wakey, Himura-san!"

Kenshin's face clearly said, No, I'd really rather not. Furrowed brows, pained grimace, with the red coloring fading into a mottled green, bleary eyes opened.

"Himura-san. You're awake." Osamu grinned, trying to grab Kenshin's attention before deciding he was in danger. "What happened? The ladies in Gion get too frisky?"

Kenshin's half-open eye slid from Fujiwara to Osamu, focusing on his friend. The other stayed completely shut.

"I will make sure Katsura-dono finds out about your," he paused, voice low, quiet, and struggling against pain and unconsciousness. "...cat stealing his fish...if you make any more references to Gion... I'm sure Okami-dono would have something to say... about the fish from her pond... too."

Osamu froze. Kenshin was mighty coherent for an injured guy, but Kenshin always had a knack for zanshin. "You wouldn't."

Before Kenshin could reply, Fujiwara shoved a mug into his hands and said, "Drink. And I mean all of it."

He patted Kenshin's shoulder, sending spasms of pain through his body and would have sloshed the medicinal drink if Osamu hadn't steadied him. He drank all of it much to Osamu's relief. Fujiwara grabbed the empty mug and replaced it with another. "Now this."

"It's bitter." Kenshin muttered.

"Did I hear the great Battousai-san actually complain?" Osamu laughed, prodding Kenshin with twinkling eyes.

Kenshin didn't grace him with a comment, giving Osamu a death glare instead.

"Maa, Maa," Osamu raised his hands in mock surrender. "I get it. Ha ha!"

By the end of the second mug, Kenshin's eyes were drooping closed and he could barely keep himself upright.

"What... did you..." Kenshin fell backwards, Osamu panicking as he caught and lay Kenshin slowly down onto the futon: sound asleep.

"Yokatta, there- he- goes-!" Fujiwara cooed.

Crazy AND senile, Osamu stared at the old man.

"What did you give him?" Osamu asked.

"Painkiller and a knockout drug. It's a real clincher, that stuff! Now, let's get that baby out of his shoulder." Fujiwara smiled, proffering tweezers and a tiny knife.

Osamu paled. Had he let this man operate on him those times he'd been wounded? He really must speak to Katsura about this.

Fujiwara bent with careful hands and dug deep into the cut. Kenshin tense and Osamu moved to hold him down, but Fujiwara waved him off with a finger.

"No, no," he said.

"What?"

The physician probed deeper, Kenshin clearly in pain by the strained look on his face, but still he did not movie.

"I gave Himura-san tsusensan."

As if Osamu knew what that was.

Fujiwara noticed Osamu's dumbfounded look, not pausing his work. "It's an anesthetic and also induces skeletal muscle paralysis. You understand, boy?"

Where did this "boy" come from? Osamu nodded and swallowed. "Oh course. Himura-san can't move."

All the same, he didn't like how Fujiwara kept at the injury, meandering his way around Kenshin's heart, causing Osamu to wonder how strong the painkiller really was.

"Grab a clean cloth." Fujiwara said brusquely.

The physician's hands were stilled, eyes focused, but voice desperate. He called again, "Quickly, quickly."

Osamu rushed, grabbed a few pieces of cloth as Fujiwara motioned Osamu closer. "Once I pull this out -"

"Press down hard. I know." Osamu replied.

Fujiwara smiled. "Good."

"With a slight tug, the silver tip of the katana's blade broke free of Kenshin's shoulder, only seconds later to be covered by Osamu's white cloth. Kenshin gasped beneath him, his one good eye opening the tiniest bit before closing once again.

"He's still very hot." Osamu said, feeling the heated skin under his palms to be more than mere blood. "Can you give him anything for the fever?"

"It's supposed to snow tonight." Fujiwara said absently inspecting the blade's tip.

"We're not sticking Himura-san outside to freeze!" Osamu growled.

"What?" Fujiwara blinked, his gaze settling on Osamu as if he'd never seen the man before in his life. He smiled, but said nothing.

Oh, Kami-sama, save Kenshin, please, Osamu begged.

Fujiwara continued to work on Kenshin, pressing herbal remedies into or on his injuries as well as sewing stitches into the worst of his wounds. Osamu became more contented with Fujiwara's work as time passed. He was a good doctor. Maybe a bit crazy, but he knew what he was doing. The longest part was plucking the splinters from Kenshin's back. His haori had not stopped large chunks from piercing through and now his skin looked peppered with the spray of blood splatter. Kenshin's eye gained bandage that wrapped around his head and Osamu mused that with the cross-shaped scar and the flame-red hair, Kenshin could pass as a mercenary. Once he woke with the customary scowl, all would be set. A new nickname was needed...something to consult Isaza about, for he was the wordy one.

Nary and hour passed when Kenshin lay bandaged, cool cloth soaking his brow, a light blanket covering him, and the window firmly closed. No snow would ever get in.

"The fever's a good thing." Fujiwara whispered out of the blue, yawning. He sat back, massaging his shoulders. He moved to clean what utensils he could as he continued, "It means his body is fighting back. Making Himura-san cold will only increase his chances of dying."

Now he talks like a sane man, Osamu sent a withering stare at him. The old man waved a grinder in his face and Osamu, still fearing Fujiwara's concoctions, gulped and nodded. "I'll stay and watch over him tonight. It's very late, so I'm sure Okami-san has a room set up for you."

Fujiwara gathered his instruments, placing them back in his medicine case. Osamu wasn't sure if he'd heard him, as the old physician proved he would do both.

A soft knock echoed and the shoji slid open an inch. "It's Isaza."

"Come in," Osamu scooted over, giving his friend space to kneel. "Quiet now. Himura-san's asleep. Ah, you smell better!"

Isaza shot him a dirty look then to Kenshin. "All finished?"

"For the most part," Osamu said.

"Just watching and waiting now." Fujiwara interjected. He yawned again from his place across from them.

"I see..." Isaza seemed tense, clenching and unclenching his fists. "The men are unsettled."

"What have they to be worried about?" Osamu scoffed. "Thing's have been going great lately with the Bakufu under our thumbs...well, except for this..."

"And therein lies the issue," Fujiwara hummed. "Men are like fruit. Once one goes rotten, the whole batch must be thrown."

Osamu opened his mouth to speak, then glanced at Isaza then back to Fujiwara. "What? What does that have to do with Himura-san?"

"The men have always been suspicious, Osamu-san. While not many remain from before the incident three years ago, rumors still fly about the Hitokiri Battousai."

"So...just by this one, you said ambush, right?" Osamu ranted, "They're blaming Himura-san going all glowy-eyed Hitokiri like some youkai? Bunch of ahou. Have you talked to Katsura-dono yet?"

"Yes. He's aware. He'll decide what to do." Isaza turned to the physician. "Fujiwara-senpai, you are a great doctor. Can you also diagnose the mind?"

The old man seemed to contemplate the question before stretching and yawning yet again. "Yes. Of course. I practice Kampo after all. I'll talk to Himura-san once he's ready."

"Thank you so much," Isaza bowed slow.

Osamu mimicked him. "Yes, thank you for all your help today."

Fujiwara's eyes twinkled. He held up a finger. "But tell me one thing."

"Anything you ask," Isaza beamed.

"What happened in Gion with Battousai-san?"

Isaza's smile faded and he glared at Osamu. "You mentioned it, didn't you?"

Osamu grinned.


Author's Note

I can't say that this story will be serious or humorous. I have my own humor, which can be quite, well, morbid, or dry and subtle. So, yes, I understand the summary encourages humor, but alas, it is not something I can promise.

Nor are there any pairings. I hate reading and writing romance. If two characters are "nakama," then they're "nakama" or otherwise known in ancient greek, Phileo love. (Nakama is "used to refer to a friend who one considers family. He's not your friend, but he'll stand by you no matter what. He's not your ally, but he'll fight by your side. He's not your boyfriend, but he loves you dearly. His is a pure and platonic love, untainted by sexual feeling." -better than english.) Henceforth, romance just isn't going to happen. Also I like realistic. Kenshin is still getting over Tomoe and due to the very nature of Kenshin's character and Japanese culture, I imagine he stayed celibate until he married Kaoru. If romance does occur, it'll be on the side, between OCs, Okami and her husband (which'll be an OC, of course) or Katsura and Ikumatsu.

Japanese Words
1. Keio 3, 12th Day of the 10th Month: Japan hadn't adopted the Gregorian calendar until 1872/1873. But for our Western sanity, I listed the date which we understand. Keio is the year (so, year 3 of Keio)
2. kuso: shit
3. -gawa: (suffix) river
4. noren: those curtains in doorways and hanging from roofs, often with slits in them.
5. kotatsu: tables with little furnaces underneath and blankets to keep the heat trapped. THEY ARE DIVINE.
6. Maa, maa: It's like saying, "Now, now…"
7. zanshin: a state of relaxed mental alertness in the face of danger. (I think it would not make that great of a leap for the same relaxed mental alertness to occur when someone is injured, especially Kenshin.)
8. yokatta: good; thank god; all right (I wanted to use Bada bing! But I couldn't find a Japanese equivalent. Ah well.)
9. tsusensan: this isn't officially apart of Kampo medicine, but it was used successfully in a breast tumor surgery by Seishu Hanaoka in 1804. I'm not sure how it's administered, but I'm assuming it is done orally, hence the bitter tea Kenshin drinks.
10. ahou: kansai-dialect for moron (so, really only used in the region of Kyoto. That's why Saito uses it so much! He's a Kyoto native.)
11. -dono: it's an honorific that's higher than sama, and not necessarily used just for ladies. It is used with the utmost respect.
12. youkai: demon; monster

The Title: [edit 01: 07.22.13]
『ただ隠せないもの、飾ったように見せかけて・・・』or the romanization: "Tada kakusenai mono, kattate yori misekakete…" means "The thing that cannot be hidden, pretending like it's been decorated…" It is lyrics from One Ok Rock song, "The Beginning." I wanted to add something special to the chapter titles and have been tossing around a lot of ideas, but it came to me to use actual Japanese. I apologize if your computer cannot comprehend Japanese characters, so I provided the romanization in hopes to make up for it…somewhat. I chose this song in particular because it is the ending song of the "Rurouni Kenshin" film release in 2012. Lyrics and translations are taken from JpopAsia. [This is a shameless plug for the film and One Ok Rock.]

The Ryokan
Kohagi Inn is actually an inn in Hagi, Choshu in the Yamaguchi Prefecture which is 320 miles walking distance from Kyoto. That includes going through Hiroshima, Okayama, past Kobe, and Osaka as well as their prefectures (Hiroshima, Okayama, and Hyogo until entering Kansai prefecture.) I've read quite a few fics that place the Kohagi-ya in Kyoto and I'm going, "No…no…" So, I've chosen a traditional ryokan (I admit it, I didn't do that much research where the Ishin Shishi stayed in Kyoto, but I had to at least find out where the Kohagi-ya was. Hagi. Well, damn. Actually I couldn't find anything outside of the Kohagi-ya and now burnt down Ikeda-ya where the Shishi stayed.) The Hiiragiya Bekkan is a very nice ryokan and has been in operation for the last 200 years. It seems large enough to accommodate Katsura's accompaniment compared to the other ryokans I looked up. At one point it was destroyed and rebuilt just down the street. It seems like a nice secluded place and is only a block away from the Takano River, where the Philosopher's path runs. The Shishi had many hideouts and Katsura is said to have moved around a lot. Who is to say that the Hiiragiya Bekkan wasn't one of many? I also like the Hiiragiya Bekkan's location because it is only separated by one district from the Fushimi Ward, where Sakamoto Ryoma liked to stay at the Terada-ya. It is also close to the Omiya Inn (I believe, I cannot find the exact location) where Sakamoto Ryoma was staying when he was assassinated on December 10, 1867. It is also close to the location where the battle of Toba Fushimi took place.

Why I mention Wards over Streets
That's just how they do things in Japan. Back then and even now today. A lot of streets don't actually have names. How mailing is done is through city, district, ward, and so and so forth through plots. I don't live in Japan, but this is something I noticed upon visiting and receiving mail from there as well as sending my brother (teaches ESL there) mail. IT IS A PAIN. Korea is very much the same, but they attempt street names. IT TOO IS A PAIN, but not as much as. But that's how they do things. Not to say that Japan doesn't have street names...it's just not the norm.

Kampo Medicine
It's rather hard to find culmulative research on Kampo medicine unless you're looking for something specific. While this is a sick-fic, I will not claim master knowledge in the art of pre-Meiji medicinal practices nor medical practices of any sort. Kampo medicine is originally a Chinese system that came to Japan in the early 1500s and grew to extraordinary popularity. I wouldn't be surprised if Megumi is actually a Kampo doctor in Rurouni Kenshin. Kampo did decline at one point, but many other sources say that Kampo was considered the go-to when one was feeling ill for a great many things, especially in the courts. (Although, I'm not sure about sword wounds.) With Katsura's power and Sakamoto's influence, I also wouldn't be surprised if they had a Kampo doctor or two on hand. Kampo Medicine was officially outlawed in 1883 with the rise of the meiji government and only in the last 50 years has Kampo been increasing in use (since Nixon). If you want to take a look at Kampo medicine, I suggest kamp dot ca as well as WebMD's short overview on Kampo. "Traditional Japanese Kampo Medicine: Clinical Research between Modernity and Traditional Medicine—The State of Research and Methodological Suggestions for the Future" at Hindawi Publishing is also a good place to start.