Summary: Rurouni Kenshin crossover drabble. Rude and not ginger versus ginger and unfailingly polite.
Notes: Sort of a birthday present to myself, but I don't think it's too self-indulgent.
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The first and last blow came from nowhere, hitting him just below the ribs-- sending him to his knees in shock and pain. Defeated.
"Doctor!" he heard Martha yelling, as the sharp edge of the katana hovered inches from his throat. Sharp edge up, blunt edge down, for a sword that, used in the traditional Japanese style, couldn't cut-- but, god, it could hurt you, couldn't it...
"Your disapproving of my sakabatou..." said the red-headed swordsman, voice still even and quiet, gone far more cool. "This one can understand. Violence of all sorts is a terrible thing, and if this one had a wish, it would be that all such pain-- all need for violence and brute power-- were gone from this world."
The sword tip dropped to the ground, and the swordsman's voice grew harder, if no less rueful. "But it is not. And, this one fears, this world may never become so. Those with a lust for power will always be willing to use sheer force and strength to wrest it from the innocent, who never wanted strife and have no means to defend themselves. The innocent must be protected... and there are always those who will listen to nothing but pain. Still, your hatred of any instrument of violence... that is understood."
He sheathed his sword, as an incongruously dangerous glint came into his eyes. "But your instant disapproval-- and your willingness to challenge this one to a fight-- and the way in which you have been speaking to everyone in this town all day-- that betrays a certain... certainty. It is as if you know, without a doubt, that you are right-- that you are wiser than anyone here-- without even having to analyze it in your mind. That certainty brings you followers; that certainty makes your voice heard. But you'll forgive me... after a certain incident this one faced in Kyoto... if this one believes such certainty is more dangerous by far than any sword."
The swordsman turned around, picking up two buckets and an enormous bag of rice. "Kaoru-dono?"
"Oh--right. Let's go," said the young woman he was with, blushing.
"Doctor--" said Martha, pushing through the crowd to get to his side.
There was a satsuma orange in his pocket, still...
"Sir," said the swordsman, pausing and turning back toward them just a little. "You are not a fool. Please, do not behave like one."
The Doctor let out a breath and dropped the orange back in his pocket. Red hair in the middle of Japan-- that speed-- the way he knew what I was doing-- that one's got to be an alien. And by how bloody... diffident he acts... he's got to be planning something.
"Doctor?" Martha said, yet again. "Are you all right?"
"We're following that one," he said. "He's got to be the source." He tried to get to his feet-- and fell back to his knees. "Just as soon as I can move."
Polite, and ginger, damn it. That one's going down.
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