Author's Note: Here I am with something new again, and another exercise in characters. I really had the urge to take our three heroes (Saitou, Okita & Katsura) and flip all their feelings around! Also, I needed another AU, Baroque Europe-esque story. :3 Y'all know how much I love to experiment. Does anyone actually take me seriously?

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

From Ashes

One

Saitou Hajime, Earl of Aizu, strode down the bustling streets of the city with one thing on his mind.

He was a patient sort of man who on any other day might decide to take his team of horses for a lazy drive while he contemplated the events of his life, his future, and how to secure his legacy. Today, however, he couldn't be bothered sitting in traffic and listening to the incessant shrieks of street urchins and fishwives. He had somewhere to go, and by Jove, he would get there.

So he had opted to travel by foot. He had just ordered some new boots and they were in need of breaking in; a walk was simply practical. The weather was particularly beautiful today, the type of spring that hints at summer, even if said season change was still two months off.

He was in high spirits, even if his near permanent frown said otherwise, and when he checked his timepiece, he found he was exactly on schedule, as a man of his age and breeding should be. When he stood outside the giant black marble building that was Miss Kanako's School for Girls, he didn't even need to lift his hand to the knocker. The door was pulled open and he was greeted by the butler, who took his calling card, and disappeared into the school to retrieve the headmistress.

A maid ushered him into a drawing room, making him comfortable and offering tea. He accepted, of course, and when she left, he waited.

The clock ticked on the wall and he pulled off his white gloves, one finger at a time. It chimed quarter past the hour and he folded his hands in his lap.

A patient man, was he.

Then, the door flew open and in marched the headmistress, Yamata Kanako, with nearly a dozen girls in tow. The earl stood, and bowed politely. The girls curtsied in unison.

"My lord," Miss Kanako greeted, her tone polite and proper, yet she did not bend. Instead, she brandished out an arm and stepped to the side. "My finest girls."

He studied the row. His eyes were narrow and calculating, his mouth turned down as it generally was, and his hands behind his back. He stood straight and dominant, yet still these silly ninnies bit down on their lips and fluttered their lashes at him.

They weren't any older than sixteen.

"Perhaps you misunderstood my inquiry Madam," he said finally, a near sneer. "I have no intentions of taking a child to the marriage bed."

His words were indecent, despite their true meaning, and the row of young ladies giggled, some of them pretending to be far more mature, and shutting down their blush with a suggestive upturn of their lips.

"My lord," Kanako practically stuttered. "These are the very best ladies I have to offer you. I assure you every single one of their dowries is impressive, their lineage flawless, and their training exceeding even my own standards."

"Their training is not yet complete if they are not of age to exit the schoolroom."

She swallowed as he began to replace his gloves.

"I came to you because I had it on good authority that this was the finest establishment in the education of young ladies. As it turns out, you can not even comprehend one simple request."

"But—but my lord!" she cried out, terrified, knowing that one nobleman's dissatisfaction with her could very well tarnish her reputation forever, "I do not have any girls of marrying age!"

The maid stepped in then, interrupting with a curtsey. "What of the twins, madam?"

Saitou's eyes snapped to the headmistress, who blinked several times, trying to digest the suggestion, then to the grouping of students before him, who gasped in the same unison they had greeted him. It intrigued him.

"Twins?"

Kanako straightened, her face returned to it's stony state and she squared her shoulders. "The Takagi twins, I'm afraid, are the very worst students I have ever had the misfortune of housing."

The corner of Saitou's mouth turned up, just a hair and he buttoned his glove as he spoke. "and how old exactly are these twins?"

She cleared her throat. "They are of no use to you, my lord. They are monsters. Uncivilized. Not suitable for a gentleman such as yourself."

"Ah," he said, "it is lucky for me that I am capable of deciding what is suitable for myself."

She flushed, unable to recall a time she had ever slipped up before a client. This man was a monster in and of himself.

"They are nineteen," the maid said quietly.

He thought on this for a moment. Nineteen was still a bit young, but he supposed if he were looking for a spouse in a school for girls, he certainly couldn't expect a woman of the world.

"Fetch them," he ordered.

The maid moved to do as he commanded, but Kanako held up her hand. She dismissed the others, and exited the room herself. She'd be having a chat with the sisters before they even dared step foot before a man of such status.

Upstairs, locked in the attic where old trunks and books gathered mold, the Takagi twins, Tokio and Shousha were reading a naughty novel. They had stolen it from Kanako's personal library, and while they were locked away as punishment for thievery, the twins were particularly tricky girls, and had still made away with the book.

"With a grunt and a single tug, the gown tore, leaving her in nothing but her chemise—"

Shousha paused, frowning, and Tokio sat up. "What's wrong? Go on!"

"It's just that," she pursed her lips, "if I had a gown as beautiful as Henrietta's, I think I might be upset if a gentleman just. . .tore it."

Tokio's stormy grey eyes widened in disbelief. "Shou. We are finally getting to the good part, and you're worried about a gown?"

"I feel like it's a waste!"

"It's fiction," her sister reminded her, yanking the book from her hands, "and I for one am dying to know what Sir Raphael meant by he was going to 'kiss her other lips', so let's get on with it, shall we?"

Flipping her black braid back over her shoulder, Shousha nodded, and shoved her chin into her hands, eagerly awaiting Tokio's rendition of the reading.

Before either of them were able to get to the full extent of the indiscretions of Miss Henrietta Morgan and Sir Raphael Montgomery, the key turned in the lock. Shousha cursed and Tokio flung the book into a darkened corner.

"No one's home!" she called out, perching herself on an old trunk while Shousha stifled a giggle.

"Our punishment ends at dusk!" Shousha reminded the intruder, "it's barely half noon."

"Well I am happy to see the two of you excited about your exile," came the cold voice of their headmistress.

Tokio shrugged. "You really should just have our things brought up here. I do believe we are exiled more often than not."

"It's true," Shousha agreed. "I've even befriended a rat."

When Kanako did not rise to their jeering, they both stopped and turned to her.

"Your presence has been requested," she said simply, though the reluctance in her voice was nearly tangible. Her throat quivered as she swallowed, as if the words were poison.

Shousha stood first, furrowing her brow. "We have a caller?"

Kanako nodded stiffly. "He is an earl and you will behave appropriately or so help me God I will tan both of your hides."

The sisters looked to each other. Kanako was distressed, and for once, not because of them. They didn't recall ever meeting an earl before. Being orphans, they were not allowed to attend any of the events the school held for the girls and their parents. Instead, they had been locked in the attic, out of sight, out of mind.

The contract their father had drawn up before his death had been for their education and rooms alone. The cruel headmistress was able to fill in her own fine print.

These girls were useless to her. Not being of noble birth, and with no living parents or relations, they would never make a proper match. A girl in their position would become a governess at best, but these two were defiant and headstrong. Once the school year came to a close and the contract was fulfilled, they would be on the streets, alone, penniless, and learning the harsh truth of the world.

If they were swept up in the opium dens and prostitution, it wouldn't reflect poorly on her.

If they made a scene in her school before an earl however, it would reflect very poorly on her.

"Get to your rooms," she ordered, "clean up, and change into your Sunday gowns. You'll do well to impress this man if either of you ever hope for a decent future."

She swept out of the room then and the two girls stood in silence for one minute before Tokio's grin lit up her face. It was naughty and mischievous, an invitation that Shousha couldn't deny.

"We've two months left here," Shousha suggested, "then we're on our own."

"It'll be worth it," Tokio added.

"She deserves it." Shousha decided.

Smiling, they linked arms and left the attic, and the raunchy novel behind. They had much bigger things to accomplish today. If they were to go down, they would certainly take Yamata Kanako down with them.

Down in the drawing room, Kanako sat across from Saitou who was stirring the lemon in his tea. He hadn't spoken a single word since her return, waiting for the two sisters to make an appearance. Kanako badly wanted to talk him out of seeing them. It would only be a waste of both their time, but her suggestion that he wasn't capable of making decisions had her silenced.

When the door opened and the girls peeked their heads in, Kanako paled. Her eyes went wide, and her hands shook. Saitou turned, and she wished eternal damnation on the hellhounds that were the Takagi twins.

"My lord," Tokio said, executing a perfect curtsey in Saitou's presence. Shousha followed suit, smiling sweetly, but without invitation.

At first, Saitou wondered if the headmistress were playing a practical joke on him, if she had run off and fetched two streetwalkers and presented them to him. Both girls were dressed in the same grey and dusty blue uniform as the others, but where the other students had been meticulously tended, these two appeared to have just rolled in the garden.

Staring straight ahead at the Earl of Aizu was all they could do to keep from bursting out into victorious grins. They hadn't changed their gowns at all. In fact, they had removed their side panniers, so the dresses fit a bit more awkwardly than they should have. They had also done away with the sash that tied itself into a pretty little bow in the back, depositing them somewhere on a staircase. The dust from the attic was thick on the fabric and on their skin. They hadn't bothered to wash and had both removed all pins from their hair, letting it hang down and wild around their faces, a blatant stab at Kanako and her social protocol.

"Explain yourselves."

The command was simple, but the low rumbling of the masculine voice that produced it actually caused Shousha to shrink back. She had never actually been in contact with a grown man before. Not in her conscious life, that was.

Tokio, however, was fearless.

"We do apologize, my lord, but we were locked away in the attic and were not expecting visitors."

Saitou raised a brow at this. "Locked in the attic you say?"

"They were thieving, my lord," Kanako bit off, "stealing from the library."

Tokio bit her lip, falling back slightly, a facade of penance. "I did not expect a thirst for literature to be a crime."

There was something in her eyes then, something small that went unnoticed by everyone except for Saitou. She was goading Kanako. This was an act. A challenge.

"What of you?" he asked, raising his chin slightly to address her sister.

Shousha inhaled, intimidated by his fierce features, but not about to sacrifice her time in the sun. "We are not allowed romance," she admitted, "so the only way to experience any type of affection from a man is vicariously, through a novel."

Though Kanako was shaking, red with fury and humiliation, Saitou was greatly amused. He imagined this was not the first time they had been locked away from the rest of the school. Turning to the older woman, he checked his timepiece again.

"I'd like for you to arrange a meeting with their father. I believe I have something to discuss with him."

Kanako smiled sweetly. "I'm afraid that will be impossible, my lord."

"And why is that?" It was nearing lunch time. He had no time for her games.

"He is no longer living," she announced, her voice thick with satisfaction as she added, "they have no living relatives. And no dowries."

While she had intended to deter him, he simply clicked the watch closed and returned it to the pocket of his waistcoat.

"Very well then," he said, taking a few strides towards the door. "Come, ladies."

Tokio tilted her head, but remained where she stood. "Excuse me?"

He stopped. "Unless you intend to spend the next two months sharing quarters with spiders, I suggest you come with me. Both of you."

"To. . .to your home?" Shousha asked, unable to wrap her head around the fact that a nobleman was bringing them out from their misery without so much as a formal introduction.

Kanako was also less than pleased. "This is a mistake, my lord!" she cried bitterly, "you will be quite sorry and I will not take them back!"

He smiled quite sweetly at her and ushered the two sisters out the door. "Consider it an act of charity," he drawled, leaving her standing in her own irritation as he led Tokio and Shousha out the door and onto the street.

He hired a cab then, and flicked his eyes in annoyance when the girls took more time admiring the horses than they did actually getting into the carriage. He didn't say anything, however, as he assumed they had never been let out of the school, and had quite possibly never seen one of the beasts in person.

When they were finally on their way, he sighed and sat back, enjoying the ride back to his city estate while the sisters ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the sights. They were loud, and not particularly grateful, but he had gone into the academy not to rescue orphans, but to find a suitable mate. Now he was stuck with two females, and he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do with the other. He was a respectable gentleman and even though society could turn a blind eye towards any man who kept both wife and mistress, it wasn't quite his style to do so.

Servants greeted them as they arrived at the entrance, flitting around the two women, jabbering away in excitement while Saitou removed his gloves and his tailcoat. The housekeeper appeared and with a light clearing of her throat, awaited directions.

"Bathe them both," he instructed, "and give the pretty one her ladyship's chambers. The other—" he gave a light wave in Shousha's direction, "make her presentable and send her off to Sou."

The housekeeper paused, blinking slowly. "You mean, Lord. . .Okita?"

Saitou lit a cigarette and took a drag. When he exhaled, tilting his head back and blowing a stream of smoke up into the air, he grunted in affirmation.

"It's about time the bastard crawled out of his hole."

Unable to argue, the older woman beckoned Shousha forward, while the others led Tokio in the opposite direction.

"Wait, wait!" Shousha cried out, running forward, but looking back at her sister. "What did he mean send me off?"

"Never you mind that," came the curt reply as they climbed staircases and turned corners down the winding halls of the estate, "we've got to get you ready."

Having servants tend to her was a luxury Shousha had never experienced before, so she was more willing to keep quiet and let the day progress. The man, the earl who had plucked her and Tokio out from under Kanako's nose did not seem to be a cruel man. He was silent, intimidating, and authoritative for certain, but not cruel. If Tokio was going to be set up in the chambers set for the lady of the house, surely that meant good things for her, didn't it?

Sinking into the bath, Shousha frowned. She was more than happy to admit that Tokio was beautiful, what with her alabaster skin and her shining curls that framed her cute heart shaped face, but she wasn't very fond of being referred to as 'the other'. She was cute too, she argued to herself.

But then, she definitely wasn't wasn't the prize that her sister was, and she never would be, so as two maids pulled at her stays and fastened her panniers, she concluded that it was perfectly fine with her. If it meant that large wolfish brutes would find themselves uninterested in her, she'd rather be the less attractive sister.

A dress was lifted up and over her head, a beautiful cerulean creation with lace trims and beading all around the collar and waistline. Her mind flickered momentarily towards the novel she had been reading just that morning and she stifled a giggle. She had been right. This sort of clothing was certainly not meant to be torn, no matter how heated passions may be.

"Should I be worried?" she asked as one of the maids shoved a coral fan into her hands. She snapped it open, admiring the detail, "Is this Sou fellow as scary as his lordship?"

"Lord Okita is not scary," the other said with a smile, "just lonely."

Lonely she could handle.

Twenty minutes later she stood on the steps of another grand estate, this one much bigger and much more bright. It was a brilliant white marble, contrasting vibrantly against the memory of the earl's dark, vine covered home.

A stiff butler opened the door, and when she alerted him that she was here to see Lord Okita, his brow raised, but he moved quickly and silently through the house in search of the man. Shousha was shown to the Eastern drawing room where she sat, observing the architecture and fiddling with a letter in her hands. She didn't know what it said, but she had been instructed to give it directly to his lordship.

It didn't take long for him to arrive and when the door opened, she stood, curtseying low.

"My lord," she greeted, being careful to remember all that she had been taught.

Lord Okita Soushi observed her for a moment. Though her head was bowed towards the floor, she seemed to be pretty enough. It was unfortunate for her that he had other things to do today.

Shousha was met by complete silence, and when she lifted her head, she was surprised to see he was small, possibly only an inch or so taller than herself, and possessed a youthful face. He did not, however, give her even the slightest of bows. His mouth turned up in an empty smile and he cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid there has been a mistake," he announced, "I am not in need of your services."

Shousha stared at him, frozen in her place nearly only a foot from the ground. "I beg your pardon?"

"I do not need you," Okita repeated, "and when you go, please tell my brother his so-called peace offerings are unwelcome."

There was a bitterness in his voice and she stood, a bit more abruptly than she had intended because she lost her balance and had to grip a chaise to prevent herself from falling over. This gown was incredibly heavy.

"B-bu-but but my lord—"

"I'll pay your fee," he interrupted pulling some money out from the inside of his tailcoat and placing it into her hands as he whispered gently, "you needn't starve."

The amount of money he had placed in her hands had Shousha at a complete loss for words. She wasn't the type of woman he thought she was, but if that was the pay those sorts got, she wondered if it were such an awful profession.

"Now," he said cheerfully, with a fierce grip on her upper arm as he led her from the room, "let's send you on your way."

"N-no! You don't understand—"

Before she had any chance to properly explain herself, he had deposited her back onto the stoop with a kiss on her cheek, and the enormous wooden door slammed in her face. As the click of his boots faded into the home, she looked from the money to the door several times over, trying to decipher what had just happened to her.

The letter was still in her hand.

It was nearing dinnertime, so she supposed she ought to head back the way she had come. Perhaps she could explain to the earl that this 'Sou' (were they really brothers? She could see no resemblance) had no interest in her company and he might let her stay in his house until she could find suitable living quarters elsewhere.

She trudged down the street lined with beautiful houses belonging to the upper crust of society. She had stuffed the money into her reticule, along with the letter, held her head high, and pretended she hadn't just been jilted by a nobleman who had mistaken her for a prostitute.

The houses began to fade into smaller buildings and she halted. Had she been so lost in thought she had missed a street or two? She didn't know for sure; she had never been in this place before. With a shrug, she turned and began to journey back again. This time, she took a turn onto a street with similar mansions and followed that for a while.

This street spilled out into the heart of the city and she found herself scurrying about the walkway dodging children and irritated people of the lower class. The sun was quickly on its way to setting now and her stomach rumbled impatiently while her feet cried out, unaccustomed to a delicate lady's shoes.

She spotted a pub across the way and when the road was devoid of carriages, she dashed across, happy to be able to secure herself a hot meal. Okita had been right. She didn't starve. In fact, she ate quite well: roast pork, potatoes in three varieties, a medley of vegetables, and scores of breads, buns, and biscuits. She considered washing it all down with a house ale, but never having drank before, thought better of it. She was in a strange place, after all.

After sitting for a while, contemplating her semi-victorious day, she decided to leave the pub in search of someone who might help her find her sister.

It was nighttime now, and when she crossed the road and turned into the street she had come from, she soon realized it was not the street she had come from. Winding down what appeared to be little more than an alleyway, she tucked her reticule close by her side. What money she had left was all she had, save the fan, which could be sold in a pinch in the event she needed to.

A dog barked from behind a fence and she screamed. Then, she ran.

It didn't follow her, but her heart was pounding, and the victories of the day seemed fewer and fewer with each step she took into the night until she collided with something living.

A strong hand gripped her wrist, keeping her vertical and while she struggled to regain her breath through the restrictions of her stays, the gentle hum of a masculine voice pierced the darkness.

"This is not the proper place for a lady," he said, "especially this late at night."

He released his hold on her, his fingertips brushing the inside of her wrist and Shousha looked up at the man whose night she had interrupted. She was thankful it was dark, because her cheeks tinged themselves with pink. She was also happy for the current fashion that was meant to rob her of her breath because the warm brown eyes that stared down at her coupled with his strong face and authoritative build had her at a complete loss for air.

"I'm sorry," she managed to squeeze out from her throat, "I'm a bit lost."

"Ah," he said with a knowing smile, "I can relate. I've been gone only two years and it seems as if the entire city has shifted."

"I've never been here before," she admitted, "I spent my days at Miss Kanako's School for Girls."

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, eliciting a grin from her, "I've heard awful things about that woman."

"All true, I'm certain," Shousha confirmed.

"Ah!" he sighed, placing a hand on his forehead and shaking his head, "how rude of me."

She tilted her head in question and he bowed. It was a fluid movement, perfectly polished.

"I am Lord Katsura Kogoro, Duke of Hagi."

A duke! Shousha let out a small squeak and immediately dropped into a curtsey. "Takagi Shousha, your grace," she breathed, "I did not mean to run into you. Please accept my most sincere apologies."

Though her movements were impeccable, there was a nervousness in her voice that he picked up on and to show he meant her no ill intent, he picked up her gloveless hand in his own and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

"It is a pleasure, Miss," he told her with a wink, easing her up. "Now shall we get you home?"

He offered her arm and she took it, her fingers still tingling from his kiss, as traditional and impersonal as it was.

"I don't exactly have a home at the moment, your grace."

Katsura looked sideways out the corner of his eyes, measuring her. "Well then," he said resolutely, "you'll simply have to take up lodging at my home for the night."

She halted slightly, but when he remained moving, she tripped over herself to keep up with his gait. "Your grace you don't have to—"

"You can tell me about it on the way," he said gently, helping her up into his carriage. His authority was subtle, but definite, and she could do little other than obey.

As the horses pulled away from the dirty street, Shousha wondered momentarily what a duke was doing in such a place. Not able to keep her thoughts to herself, she asked. Her fingertips flew to her lips in apology, but he waved it off, un-offended.

"I have been off in the wars for the past two years. I can honestly say I often find myself in places that my fellow peers wouldn't dare enter. I arrived home tonight and wanted to pay an old friend a visit."

"You. . .you went off to the wars?" She was nearly certain nobility wasn't allowed to leave for active duty. Certainly not a duke.

Katsura smiled grimly. "It caused quite a stir, but I have reasons for wanting to be a part of the movement."

"Oh," she breathed quietly.

"And you? What has led such a cute miss to be wandering the city's gutters?"

Shousha gave him a sheepish look, and began to play with the fan she had removed from her clutch. "My sister and I were taken from the school this morning by a man neither of us know, an earl. He was a bit cold, but dressed me in this—" she gestured to the gown.

"It is very pretty," the duke complimented, "I feel as if I have seen it before."

He had seen it before.

"—and sent me off to another house. I don't know what his motives were, but the gentleman whom I was intended to, to. . .entertain? Befriend? I'm not sure what, but he. . ." she sighed and slammed her back against the cushioned seat.

"He kicked me out," she finished flatly. "He thought I was a lady of the night, even if it was only the afternoon."

Katsura sat calmly, listening to her plight with amusement. "Goodness. I must apologize on his behalf. A gentleman like that doesn't quite give the rest of us a good image now, does he?"

"Well, that depends," she countered, "I now find you exceptionally kind in comparison."

"I hope you will always find me exceptionally kind," he said as the carriage rolled to a stop and he prepared to let her down onto the drive, "I have a hard time of it when a lady is in distress, particularly on my account."

She laughed politely at that, enjoying the feel of their fingertips touching as he helped her down. It was taboo in their society of propriety and stiff etiquette for a well bred woman to touch a man directly. Generally they would have both worn gloves for the exchange, or at the very least, she could have shielded her flesh with a hankie.

The fact that they were unchaperoned was an additional bit of impropriety, provided this gentleman was also unmarried, but under the veil of night, no one had to know.

When she turned her gaze upwards to the building, she paled, and her knees grew weak.

"This is your home?" she asked, thankful that her voice sounded much more astonished at the grandeur of it all, and not that it was the exact same house she had been left on the doorstep of several hours prior.

"It is one of several," he answered simply, leading her up the marble steps, "I like this one, however, because my brother occupies this house as well."

"Your brother," she echoed.

"Yes," he said smiling as they entered the grand foyer, "the Earl of Shieikan. You'll likely see him in the morning. From what I hear, he's become a bit of a recluse."

Her own smile was strained, but he didn't notice. His staff were surprised to see him, yet elated to learn that he had come home unscathed, and rushed to prepare everything that may have been out of order.

"Please prepare a chamber for Miss Shousha. She is a respectable young lady and my personal guest."

They did as they were told and he nodded to himself in satisfaction, heading over to his study where he knew he was likely to find his younger brother hard at work keeping up with all the estates.

He stepped into the grand office with its walls filled with books, maps, and tools for making them. A fire blazed and his wolf-dog Zhan slept peacefully before it. Okita was, as he predicted, seated behind the desk, pouring over several of the family ledgers, accounting for everything that week.

It was good to be home.

Hearing him, Okita's head snapped up.

"You unimaginable bastard."

. . .Or perhaps not.

xxxx

Author's Note: Yes yes yes! That's right. Okita & Katsura are brothers. Digest it. It's going to be fun :D I was having so much fun with angry!Okita in Between Right and Wrong, that having him as a bitter hermit was too entertaining a thought to pass up!

Saitou will also be undergoing something I have never made him into before, and of course we'll get to see a little bit of Harada/Masa action because I do love those two. :3

Thanks for reading, as always!