He was a wanderer, that he was, and content with that life too. Settling down had never really happened to him in his life before, even with his master, who had stayed in the same place for a couple of months before moving on again.
As a captive on the way to being sold as a slave, he walked all day for months. As his master's apprentice, he walked all day for weeks between stops for a couple of months. During the war, he had travelled at least every other day, often many nights, always bound for an assassination. After the war, he'd kept moving, meeting people sometimes, trying to atone for his sins, protecting those that were before him. Not much of a life some might say, but it was his, that it was.
"How old are you?" a deep, silky voice asked from the shadows.
Kenshin never liked the sound of that question, and it put his back up immediately, especially out in the country, where the next village was still several days journey.
"Only, your eyes look old, and you carry that sword like a master, but your body doesn't look more than eighteen," the silky voice continued, "and your face no more than thirty."
"Who asks?" Kenshin demanded, his hand reaching for his sword.
A deep, sinful chuckle sounded. "No need to be like that," the voice said. "I'm just a simple spirit fox. I'm not going to do you any harm – but who are you, young one with old eyes?" The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows of the trees. "Boy with blood on his soul?"
Kenshin stared up at the figure before him. Tall was the first thought in his head, even as his ears registered the words 'spirit fox' and associated them with the ears and tail he was seeing.
"Himura Kenshin," he answered. "And this one is just a wanderer, that he is."
The spirit fox smiled. "Just wandering? Or are you trying to run away from your nightmares, young samurai?"
Kenshin stepped back, frowning, not liking how the spirit fox made such accurate assumptions about him and his life.
The spirit fox chuckled once more. "I mean you no harm, Himura-san. I wish merely to know you better. Come, you must have wearied your feet with walking. My den is just a few paces off the main road," the tall, silvery creature invited.
Kenshin still hung back. "This one has heard of what becomes of those who let themselves be tempted off the road by those who are not human," he said. "This one has no wish to become the meal of a demon, that he does not."
The spirit fox laughed. "I do not eat humans," he said, "and I have long disassociated myself with those who do. You will be quite safe in my company, Himura-san. If you do not believe me," he added, bending down and bringing his face close to Kenshins, "you may smell that my breath is not as fetid as those who do eat such flesh, and the only filth upon my hands is the green stain of the plants that I tend." The spirit fox stood straight once more, and held out his hands for a moment before he dropped them to his sides again and turned to enter the undergrowth.
Kenshin's defensive stance eased once the spirit fox was no longer in his personal space, and he took his hand away from the hilt of his sword, but he was no less tensed, ready for the possibility of danger from the spirit fox, even as he followed the tall creature into the greenery and off the road.
True to the word of the creature, the 'den' was only a short way from the road. In fact, from the entrance, Kenshin could see up and down the road for some distance, though he knew this place could not be seen from the road – or he would have spotted it himself, that he would.
"I don't like people sneaking up on me," the spirit fox said, amusement in his voice, as he noticed his guest taking in the area, and more to the point, the view. "I like being alive after all."
Kenshin winced, not appreciating the reference to his past that the spirit fox had, unwittingly or otherwise, just made.
"Ah, young assassin then," the fox said, and sadness now tinged his tone. "I am sorry for what has been inflicted upon you by your own kind. Please, sit. I shall do likewise and our heights shall not seem so different."
The two sat down on cushions a low table between them, and the spirit fox made tea for them at the table.
"So, Himura-san, how old are you?" the silver fox asked again. "You never did answer me before."
"This one is twenty-six years old, that he is," Kenshin answered. "And in those twenty-six years he has been beaten as a slave, taught the sword, killed thousands of people, married and become a widower, and now become a wanderer. May this one enquire as to the age of his host?"
"I'm roughly seven-hundred years old," the spirit fox answered. "And forgive my manners, I have not properly introduced myself. I am called Yoko Kurama."
"The thief," Kurama added softly, not accusing, but completing the statement.
His host nodded. "Indeed. The cunning, sly, ruthless thief. All the same, I have never killed a human that did not seek to destroy me first, and certainly never devoured one. To those in the next village, I am a revered spirit, bringing good fortune to their fields. To the greedy daimyo, I am a pestilence, robbing him of treasures he has no need or true love for, and forcing him to buy more. A thief is good for the economy, if that thief is me."
Kenshin nodded his understanding of this.
"What do you do, Himura-san, when the sun sets and you have not reached a village?" Yoko asked, looking out of the den at the horizon.
"This one finds a tree to lean against and sleeps where he sits, that he does," Kenshin answered.
Yoko nodded. "I offer my bed to you," he said. "I will guard you tonight, and as many nights as you care to stay. I have missed having company since Kuronue died."
"This one thanks you, that he does."
~oOo~
Kenshin, accustomed as he was to wandering, found it odd when he sat one day at the mouth of Yoko's den, and contemplated how long he had stayed. A single night had turned into two, then three, then five, and then he had stayed a full week, and then another. He had been here for almost a month now. Admittedly, not the longest that he had stayed in one place, but the longest he had stayed in one place since he had left his master before the war.
When it was quiet, as it was now, Kenshin wondered why he had not left yet.
"This one is restless, perhaps that is all," he murmured to himself. "He has not had a life of peace like this one before, that he has not." That short time with his wife did not really count. That had been hiding, always tense and battle ready. This time was very different to that one.
"Himura-san?" Yoko's voice, smooth and rich, broke into his thoughts. "The rice is ready for breakfast. Will you eat today?"
Kenshin stood and went back into the den. "This one thanks you, that he does," he said.
Yoko cocked his head as he watched Kenshin sit at the table and picked up his chopsticks. "Himura-san," he said gently, watching rice disappear into that small mouth. "What troubles you?"
Kenshin looked up at his host, surprise in his large, violet eyes. He swallowed his rice and took his chopsticks from his mouth. "This one has never had such a peaceful life before, that he has not. This one has been always fighting or moving, that he has. How can anything be achieved by going nowhere?"
Yoko nodded. "I understand," he said. "You still carry a burdened soul, and it weighs heavily on you now that you aren't punishing yourself or fulfilling your vow to protect those before you."
Kenshin hung his head. The month he had been here had been long enough for the observant spirit fox to have drawn out all of Kenshin's secrets, even without the red-head saying anything.
"Tomoe was never with child?" Yoko asked, apparently changing the subject.
Kenshin shook his head. "We never really consummated the marriage," he answered. "This one was younger then, and she did not love me that way. For that, this one does not blame her. This one killed her previous fiancé, the man she did love."
Yoko nodded. "Would you like a child, Himura-san?" he asked.
Kenshin smiled a young, contented, and very fond smile. "Children," he said happily. "This one is very fond of children, that he is."
"I can give you a child, if you would like, Himura-san."
"Oro?"
Yoko chuckled at the young man's sound of surprise, and slowly, carefully shifted his form. This was not a trick that the fox did regularly, or took upon himself lightly. Changing one's gender was a delicate and difficult matter, particularly since it tended to want to spring back to its natural state.
"Would you like a child, Himura-san?" Yoko asked again, but now the voice was light and purring, rather than deep and velvety.
"Why would you do such a thing for this one?" Kenshin asked cautiously.
Yoko smiled. "Demons are being pushed out of the human world," she said. "Soon, none will be left. I have many treasures still stashed in more hidden dens here. I need someone to keep charge of them until I can find a way to come back for them myself. That is my selfish reason for giving you a child. My other reason," she continued, reaching across the table to caress Kenshin's scarred cheek tenderly, "is because I think you need someone who you can love, and who will love you, as purely and unequivocally as a child. I will be able to help you raise the child for two years before I must leave human world. Himura Kenshin, would you like for me to give you a child?"
His eyes wide and his mouth only not hanging open because Yoko still had her hand cupping his jaw, Kenshin nodded once, slowly.
Yoko smiled. "It is time then, young killer, that someone taught you the pleasures of the living," she said, and standing, pulled Kenshin after her back to the curtained off bedroom.
~oOo~
Three months after that night, Kenshin held the child that Yoko had promised to give him. The pregnancy, for that is what it was, had a shorter term because of Yoko's animal nature and demon strength.
"She looks human, that she does," Kenshin observed, awed, even as Yoko returned to his original form.
"Of course," Yoko said. "If she had looked like me, she would have been hated for being only half human. She will show no sign of being a kitsune child unless -" Yoko cut himself off.
"Unless what?" Kenshin asked.
"No, do not worry Himura-san," Yoko said. "My genes will be in all of her line, but they shall be dormant unless their lives are threatened."
Kenshin nodded. "For her sake then," he said. "This one will teach her the sword, that he will."
Yoko hummed his quiet approval. He intended to leave books for his child. Books on every plant he had met in his long life, on medicines and poisons, and perhaps one that told the child about her origins, just in case. He had much writing to do.
"What will you call your daughter?" Yoko asked, gently stroking his child's soft face.
Kenshin looked up at Yoko, and blinked his large violet eyes. "Yuki," he said. "Himura Yuki."
Yoko nodded in acceptance. "It is a good name."
~oOo~
The peace of the den was shattered forever with the arrival of Himura Yuki, but neither Kenshin or Yoko minded all that much. Yoko, a true parent of his species, devoted himself to the child and catered to her needs with tender joy – even cleaning her. Of course, that didn't mean she always got what she wanted. It would have been bad for her character.
Kenshin too was a devoted father, and under his guidance Yuki learned to walk, talk, and smile in her first year, to recognise him, and to know Yoko, and to know when Yoko should not be disturbed because he was busy writing books for her.
"You might be called a young father," Yoko said as they tucked Yuki into bed. "But you are a good one all the same."
Kenshin smiled. "This one could not bare to be otherwise, that he could not," he answered quietly. "Yuki is as you said she would be, that is true. This one will love her until the day that he dies, that he will."
Yoko chuckled softly. He would miss that way Kenshin had of talking when he was forced to leave his little family. A frown slipped onto his face. That time had been growing nearer every day, and now it was only two weeks away. He would have to remind his little samurai.
~oOo~
"Why do you have to go?" Yuki asked as she and Kenshin stood at the entrance of the den with Yoko. "Why do we have to go?"
Yoko felt his cold heart break a little at his daughter's question, but he knelt down in front of her and gave her a serious, honest answer. A serious, honest answer that left his daughter crying in his arms when he was finished.
"You can come back here," Yoko told her. "You can, any time you want. But right now if you stay then you will be in danger. I don't want you to be in danger my little Yuki-chan. You need to take care of your papa for me."
Yuki wiped her eyes and nodded fiercely. "I'll take care of Papa," she said, then smiled. "That I will."
Yoko smiled at his little girl, brushing his fingers through her hair for a last time and kissing her forehead before he stood and looked at Kenshin. He'd grown some more in the last two years, but Yoko was still taller, though the margin was less obvious now.
"This one will miss you, that he will," Kenshin said.
Yoko nodded. "I'll miss you too, my little samurai," Yoko answered, then pressed his lips to Kenshin's for the first time since that single night they had spent together. A goodbye kiss. "I will know her children when I meet them," he added when they parted, "should I ever return to this world."
Kenshin nodded and picked up the box that held their belongings – mostly Yuki's toys, books, and extra clothes – and slung it onto his back.
"It is time this one became a wanderer again, that is clear," he said softly. "Yuki-chan, come along. Yoko-sama insists that you do not see what will happen here, that he does. Come along."
"Yes Papa," Yuki said. "Good-bye Yoko-ma," she added sadly with a wave, then took Kenshin's hand and walked away from the den with him.
The next day, Yoko's den was empty. He had been ushered to demon world at last.
~oOo~
"Yuki-chan," Kenshin said, kneeling before his little girl as they stood on top of a hill, just a short way from the town that he had been headed to before leaving the road behind and going with Yoko those years ago. "You are to refer to Yoko-sama as your Kaa-san and only as Kaa-san when we are with other people, that you must."
Yuki nodded. It had been explained to her before by Yoko as well. He didn't like being called Kaa-san to his face, but it would be better for everyone if she spoke of her Kaa-san, rather than Yoko-ma, when she was with people other than her papa.
"This one will remember, that she will, Otou-sama," Yuki said.
Kenshin smiled. "You can still call me Papa if you want to though, that you may."
~oOo~