Something Suspicious

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Kenshin, for the eighth time already! (Note: This is a sequel to "I Told You I Would Come Back".)

/oOo/

The rice was growing perfectly, the sky had not a cloud in it, and the temperature was absolutely just right. Yet, Joji was upset. Not the kind of upset like, 'darn-I've-just-stepped-into-mud-with-my-new-shoes', or 'if-my-neighbor-leaves-his-dog-outside-to-tear-up-my-rice-crop-one-more-time-!' It was more like, 'Today's-the-anniversary-of-my-baby-brother-being-sold-into-slavery' kind of upset. Nobody messed with Joji today of all days. It had been 10 years since that slug had separated the two brothers, had basically cut of all hopes of survival for Shinta, for Shinta couldn't be a slave; he'd rather die. And Joji knew that.

Joji had cast his faith that somehow, somehow, that Shinta had narrowly lived out of the window when he heard that the slavers (the worst kind of people, besides the headman, in Joji's estimation) had been victim to a bandit attack, and that nobody came out alive, not even the bandits themselves.

Joji had tried to be happy, and he was. He had a beautiful wife, and 3 gorgeous children, 2 boys and his baby girl, and served a (somewhat) benevolent daimyo. But on important events, like Shinta's birthday or like today, Joji would slip into a mild depression. His wife had learned that Joji wanted nothing but Shinta on days like that, but that wish became more infantile to dream about with every passing year.

It was on the very next day that Joji heard whispers of the murder that had happened not far from the castle.

"Oi! Joji!" yelled the gossip of the village, Hama. Joji liked the old man, as he told the best stories, but also the best lies. You couldn't trust Hama any more than you could throw a blacksmith's anvil.

"What is it this time, Hama? Fire in the kitchens? Somebody poached a pheasant?" asked Joji.

"Well, yes, now that you say that, Genji finally got a hold of one- but listen to this! There's been a killing! And you'll love who it is!"

"Yanami?"

"Pfft! You wish! I hear it's your old headman!"

Joji startled. "Hama, if this is another lie, so help me-"

"What's with the distrust? I got it from the stable boy! Apparently, the daimyo is extremely angry. The headman was a source of considerable income to the estates, and now that he's gone with no heir… well, take it from me, we could get the brunt of this storm." Hama got a grim look, as he was old enough to remember the whippings the old daimyo liked to give out.

"The lord wouldn't do that. He needs healthy workers to get the crop in. We can't do that if are backs are torn up." Joji argued.

"Tell that to him, not me."

Joji sighed. He was glad that someone finally dispatched the parasite, but at their expense…? That was cruel.

"Do they know who did it?" inquired Joji.

"That's the juicy part. There's a rumor it was Hitokiri Battosai!" Hama grinned savagely. "Maybe he's still there, and he'll take out the daimyo as well." Hama hated the daimyo, he despised being a peasant, and he loathed the Shogunate, whom the daimyo fully supported.

"Don't say that, Hama. That could be counted as insubordination," warned Joji.

"They'll never catch me alive!" The way Hama spoke; you could've sworn he was 27, not 63.

"Right. And Akari is the Empress," jested Joji, naming his wife.

"You never know."

"Grow up. Anyway, the chances Battosai did it are so slim, Runaway Kogoro couldn't slip through them."

"Burst my bubble, why don't you? It's not so far-fetched. Your old headman was a Bafuku supporter, wasn't he?" Hama countered.

"Battosai is new on the scene. The headman was a maggot and a pain, yes, but not so low to be taken out by a newcomer." Joji insisted.

"I have it from a very reliable source that he was actually there for about 2-3 years before he came out of the woodwork." Hama exclaimed.

"You have termites coming out of your wooden excuse of a head."

"Low blow. Really low blow. I have information I'm not going to tell you anymore just because of that," sniffed Hama in mock disgust. Joji could tell Hama was just dying to tell him, but Japanese pride was getting in the way.

"What is it?" Joji sighed.

"You know how the daimyo filters everything we hear?"

"Yeah…?"

"That included descriptions of this guy."

"Nobody knew about him before the Ikedeya Incident. That might be why, not the daimyo."

"Listen to me! I got this from a guy belonging to the Kiheitai. He was there when he first saw the boy."

"Boy?" The killer was a boy?

"Yeah! He said he was a slight thing, skinnier than a starved dog."

"And let me guess. He was eight feet tall, had 'blazing suns' for eyes, and shot fire from them?" Joji scoffed.

"Don't be stupid. He was short. About 13. And he had his own katana."

"A samurai, then? Only those idiots are allowed his swords." Joji had a personal vendetta against samurai. His uncle had been a victim of 'slash-and-run', and Joji had hated samurai ever since.

"No. He had only one sword. And if he were a samurai, why would he join the Kiheitai? They're peasants, craftsmen, or merchants."

"Fine, you got me there. Continue."

"Gladly. Everyone thought he was a foreigner. But you should've seen the way he handled that sword. They say he cut through the wood training post like it was water. Then they said he demolished the reed mats and turned the wood into pulp by smashing his saya into the side. He was like an ogre! Apparently, Katsura got his mitts on him and sent him off taking down those samurai beasts." Hama looked at Joji, trying to gauge his reaction.

'Foreigner, foreigner… Where have I heard that before…? Wasn't Shinta always called a foreigner?' Joji thought. To make sure that it wasn't Shinta (as it couldn't be), he asked, "Did he know what he looked like beyond that? Like hair and eye color for instance?"

"Yeah, can't believe I forgot to tell you that. He had red hair and- Hey, are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost," worried Hama.

Joji's face had gone pale, and a curtain of cold sweat popped up on his temples. "It can't be him. It just can't. He never picked up a sword in his life; he died. He died in the attack. Nobody survived. Nobody. It can't be him. It can't…"

"Umm, okay then, I'll just be taking my leave then, heh." With that, Hama strode of quickly, throwing anxious looks back at the muttering Joji.

Something was suspicious, and it wasn't Hama's tale. Was his sweet, little brother a cold-hearted assassin? Nothing was making sense anymore. Joji only knew one thing, and that was finding out where in the world was this killer and that meant going to Kyoto. And to get to Kyoto, he had to leave behind his home.

Author's Note: This is a cliffhanger, obviously. Another obvious thing is that this is not an oneshot. This will be my first multi-chaptered fic (dun dun dun!)! This fic would not have been born until certain reviewers (who shall remain nameless) asked me to do a sidestory/sequel. And so I did. Lucky you! You now have yet another bad story clogging up your fansite! Yay! See you next chapter (if I have time)! MiekoYagyu, signing off, but not forever!