A/n: So... much... exposition


The scream spilt the night like a thunderclap, a piercing howl ripped from the belly of some damned soul. Sano had turned and started running back towards the godforsaken manor they'd shut Kenshin up in before he fully understood what he'd heard. Armed men were swarming around the gate, all military bewilderment – we don't know what's going on so let's act very official and maybe someone will come along to tell us – and Sano didn't wait for them to finish trying to halt him. He vaulted over the crowd, to the top of the wall, and dropped down the other side.

Servants were milling aimlessly, pale-faced and grim and only slightly more panicked than the soldiers. He grabbed one by the arm – a maid, her wide eyes red-rimmed with weeping. There was a reek of rancid copper in the air.

"What the hell is going on?" he snapped. She gasped, startled.

"Sir Sano?"

"What happened?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "The Lady – Lady Kaoru – "

And that was enough. Sano dropped her arm and pelted indoors, scattering maids and manservants left and right as he followed the scent. The crowd thickened as the reek did – what the fuck did one person need so many damn servants for, anyway? – and then the it vanished, suddenly, as he stumbled out into a clearing before one of the identical bedroom doors. As if everyone was afraid to get too close.

Of course they were. Idiots.

Sano could see Kenshin kneeling, clutching something to him with a child's desperation. He had screamed only once: now, he wasn't even sobbing. There was a stain on the tatami, black in the flickering candlelight, and the smell of blood was almost overwhelming.

Fear tightened Sano's gut, sending ice out through his veins. He stepped into the room.

"…fuck."

Three bodies. Two of them were strangers. One was older woman, past middle-age, dressed as a maid. She had been stabbed neatly through the chest and left to lie in a pool of blood, her legs tangled in their death-throes. The second was a samurai, or dressed like one at any rate, wearing the Himura crest. He'd cut his own stomach open, or started to; a swift stroke of a sword at his neck had done the rest. Sano stared at the head lying abandoned beside its former body, fighting back bile, and thought he recognized the face. The fellow from the Black Hat incident, the one in charge of the lady's guards… and the older woman, he thought, might be that maid, the one who'd come with the lady to Edo. The one who was so loyal. Loyal enough to follow her mistress into death.

And then, convinced of what he would see but needing to look anyway, needing to be sure, he took one further step into the room for a better look at the third body, the one that Kenshin held like it was his last link to sanity.

He knew that one. The lady – Kenshin's Lady Kaoru, her throat slit open, a bloody dagger still clutched in her hand, pretty white dress stained red with her own lifes-blood. She'd tied her legs together to maintain her modesty even as she writhed in death. Just like a proper lady.

"Big sister?"

A child's voice behind him, high-pitched and shot through with fear. He turned to see the little girls – her sisters – standing in the doorway, and moved just a beat too slow to stop them from seeing –

The older one – Ayame – screamed, piercing and frantic, and the younger one clinging to her side began to wail. Kenshin didn't even stir. Sano swore roundly and picked them both up, one in each arm. Ayame beat at him, her tiny fists barely more than a light breeze on his tough hide; the younger one went for his hair, pulling on it and shrieking in response to her sister's agitation. He stepped outside the room, glancing about at the servants still hovering, terrified, and let his contempt show in his eyes.

"You fucks couldn't have tried to stop 'em?" he growled, searching for someone who looked reasonably competent. He'd look after the kids himself, if it came to it, but he didn't want to leave Kenshin alone, not with –

He couldn't think about it, couldn't face it full-on. It didn't make any sense. Why would she – ?

Maybe she could have fooled Sano, but she never could have fooled Kenshin. And Kenshin had thought everything was all right. So what the hell had happened to change things in the few hours they were gone?

A young maid stepped out of the crowd, the one he'd stopped before. She was shaking, tears still trickling their way down her cheeks. But she held out her arms, and her eyes were quietly, tremblingly determined.

"I'll take them, Sir Sano."

He eyed her, uncertain.

"You sure?"

She nodded. "I was – Miss Tae put me in charge of them, when she and the Lady Kaoru couldn't look after them." A sniff. For a moment she looked ready to break down again. Then she squared her shoulders. "They know me."

The girls had quieted when she stepped forward, their frantic struggles fading into limp sobs.

Goddamn, but he hated being in charge.

"All right," he said quickly, offloading the kids into her arms and crouching to face the maid eye-to-eye, his voice low. "Listen, uh – "

"Tsubame, sir."

"Tsubame. Listen, I dunno what happened here, or if it's what it looks like – I don't wanna believe it is, but – look, is there anyone here, someone who can fight, that y'really, really trust?"

"I…" She trembled a little, holding the girls close. "I'm not sure, anymore."

Sano closed his eyes, briefly. "Fair enough. Okay. Fuck." He paused, wracking his brain.

"I could take them to Lord Himura's rooms, sir."

Sano blinked.

"They'd be safe there," she said, with a peculiar emphasis on safe. It took Sano's battered brain a few seconds to understand what she was saying.

Right.

The lord's rooms – there'd be a bolthole, a saferoom hidden in plain sight. Most manors had them, samurai being the paranoid fucks they were. And rightly so.

"Okay." He ran a hand through his hair. "That'll do. Nobody but me, you got it?"

"I understand." She nodded, and, guiding the sobbing children, disappeared into the knotted crowd.

"As for the rest a'you," Sano snapped, straightening. "What d'you think this is, the fuckin' theatre? Ain't there some shit you should be doing or sometin'? Shit." He shot them all a last, contemptuous glare and then turned his back, not really interested.

Kenshin was still hunched over, curled around the body like it was an open wound. His eyes were hidden behind his bangs, and his fingers were white and bloodless with the effort of holding on. Sano laid a hand on his shoulder, carefully. Kenshin didn't respond.

"Kenshin."

Nothing. Not even a twitch, or a slight raise of the head. Sano crouched down, trying to smother his fear.

"Kenshin, listen. You gotta get up, Kenshin. C'mon." He shook him lightly, trying to get something, but Kenshin might have been a doll for all the good it did. "This can't be – "

Sano swallowed, there, because what else could it be? But it had to be something else – but – she was holding the damn dagger, her fingers curled around it in a deathgrip. Frozen by the early stages of decay. She was dead, and by her own hand.

"Fuck, Kenshin," Sano whispered, his throat closing with the effort of holding back the heat stinging behind his eyes. "Don't do this to me, buddy, don't check out on me…"

His fingers curled in the cloth of Kenshin's kimono, pressing against his shoulder.

"You're my best friend. An' they need you – those girls, the fox-woman, that brat Katsuo – "

He had to be bruising Kenshin now, but the older man still didn't stir.

"…I need you."

He'd been half-lost in booze and rage when he'd met Kenshin, had wallowed in his grief for years as he fought anyone who came his way without much care if he lived or died. Until he'd gotten paid to go after a Tokugawa retainer – he woulda' done it for free, they were all the same, all those fucking lords and samurai, same rotten stock as had burned the temple to the ground, and his village with it. And for what? For politics. Because the temple had kept to its own, declaring no allegiance save to its good works. What was worth saving about a world where a man could die for doing the right thing?

He'd gone after the retainer and Kenshin had stopped him: spared him, when he could have killed him – should have – and that had been enough to pierce the haze around him. Something had gotten untangled that day, somewhere between the punch to his jaw that had laid him out flat and the quiet conversation while his head throbbed fit to break his skull, something deep under his heart that had knotted so tight and hard it was dragging him down into hell, and him all unknowing.

And it wasn't fucking fair

Sano's fist slammed against the mat, because he was a hard man and hard men didn't weep. That got a reaction, finally – Kenshin's head lifting, just enough for Sano to see his dulled eyes.

He said something, so low that Sano couldn't hear: he only knew that Kenshin had spoken by the slight movement of his lips.

"What?"

"…it's enough." Kenshin's head fell forward again, covering his eyes, and he held to the body a little bit tighter. "Enough. No more."

"The hell are you talking about?" Sano knew, deep in his bones. He just didn't want to know it. "Kenshin!"

But that was all he got, no matter what he did. After a few more futile moments Sano stood up, mouth thin and hard, fists clenching so tight at his side that he was surprised his nails didn't draw blood.

He sucked in a long breath, wanting to say – something –

Then he exhaled, hard, and stalked out of the room.

"You!" he snapped, pointing to the remaining servants. "Watch him! Do not fucking let him do anything stupid, d'ya hear me?"

They stared, dumb and mute.

"D'ya hear me?" he snarled. That got a series of nervous nods.

"Right. I'm gonna make sure the kids are safe. I come back and he ain't where I left him, I'm gonna be real fucking pissed, y'hear?"

Without waiting for a response, he went off down the hall.


Sano heard the faint scrape of a door opening only a few heartbeats after he stepped into Kenshin's bedroom. Tsubame stepped out, holding Suzume in her arms while Ayame clung to her side. Both girls were weeping, silently.

Sano swallowed hard, uncertain. Ayame sniffed, rubbing her nose on her sleeve.

"Big sister's dead, isn't she?" she asked, voice trembling. Sano looked away.

"…yeah. Looks like it."

Suzume let out a tiny wail, burying her face in Tsubame's neck. The young maid nearly glared at Sano and he grimaced. Maybe there had been a better way to say that, but…

"What's going to happen to us?" Ayame was staring at him, small and pale in the moonlight. Tsubame hadn't lit the room's lantern. Smart move. Made it look unoccupied, in case anyone came to check. "Will Uncle Ken send us back to Aunt Kyoko?"

He couldn't stand the way she was looking at him, fear and uncertainty smothering her lively features. So he took two long strides over and dropped to one knee in front of her, brows drawing down as he tried to think of something to say.

"Look…" he started, deciding to opt for honesty. "I dunno what happened. I mean, I know what happened, but I don't know why. I'm gonna find out. An' Kenshin's… not gonna be able to make any decisions for a while, okay?" He paused and tilted his head for a second. "Not smart ones, anyway. But I know he'd want me t'look after you. So that's what I'm gonna do, and then I'm gonna figure out why your sister's dead. An' when I find out who did this t'her, I'm gonna make 'em pay."

The last sentence had come out unbidden, riding a tide of rage – for his best friend, for these little girls, for the fading echo of the boy he'd once been, who'd never had the chance to see justice done. And he realized as he said it that he did not believe for one hot second that the Lady Kaoru had killed herself. It wasn't impossible to make a murder look like a suicide. Maybe he hadn't known her that well, but he hadn't survived as long as he had without getting the knack of sizing people up on a first meeting. She wasn't the type .

Ayame's chest heaved, once, in a deep breath or a choked sob. He couldn't tell. Then she raised her jaw, straightening her shoulders. Tears glimmered for a moment in the corners of her eyes, before she dashed them away.

"Thank you, Sir Sano," she said, as the trained dignity of a samurai daughter overtook her features, locking out the child and leaving a half-grown woman behind. She looked, suddenly, very like her older sister. Then she bowed. "Please take care of us in the coming days."

"No worries, kid." He couldn't quite smile – and it would have been wrong, anyway – but he reached out and ruffled her hair, grief tightening his heart. "Hey, Miss Tsubame, does this bolthole come with a tunnel?"

Tsubame blinked. "Oh – yes! It comes out near the stables…"

"Good." Sano stood up. "Let's get you kids outta here."

"Where will we go?" Ayame's fingers were tangled in the sides of her dressing gown, the only hint of tension in her stance.

"Lady Takani's." It was all he could think of – he didn't know who else to trust. "I don't want you stayin' here, not when we don't know what happened. An' I don't want anyone knowing where your goin', either. If the tunnel comes out near the stables we can grab some horses and go – she's pretty far from the palace." He glanced down at Ayame. "'Fraid there's no time to pack, li'l missy."

"It's all right." Her voice was too smooth and cultured to be anything other than a mask. "As long as you keep your promise, Sir Sano."

He nodded, firmly, and hoped he wasn't lying.


In the interests of getting to Megumi's house sometime before dawn, Sano stole Kenshin's horse. Well, borrowed Kenshin's horse. With the intent to return. He loaded the girls on it and jogged along beside, leading by the reins. The beast co-operated, for a wonder: it had been awake and pacing when Sano had snuck into the stables, and looked at him with too-knowing eyes as he led it from its stall.

It was past the hour of the rat when they finally arrived, the waning moon peering down on them with disinterest. He'd taken a longer route than was strictly necessary, looping and doubling back even though he couldn't sense anyone following them, because Kenshin was going to survive this (and why did he have to think that, why wasn't he sure?) and if the little ones or Megumi got hurt, Kenshin would never forgive himself for it.

He had to knock a few times before Megumi's elderly maid heard and opened the door, gasping when she lifted the lantern and took things in. She was old and half-deaf but no less sharp for it – within moments, Megumi was awake and hurrying to the door, lips tight as she tied a house-robe around her waist.

"What happened?"

"Lady Kaoru's dead."

Her eyes widened, pools of ink in the faint moonlight.

"What?"

"You heard me. I had to get the kids outta there. This was the only place I could think of."

Megumi's hand crept up to clutch at her collar.

"Sir Ken…?"

Sano shook his head. Megumi's eyes narrowed. Then she turned to her maid.

"Hana, take Miss – Tsubame, was it? – and the young ladies to the guest bedroom. See that they're cared for. You are welcome here." This she addressed to the girls, her face softening. "I only wish your first visit had been under better circumstances."

Suzume had fallen asleep in Tsubame's arms, but she managed a bow and a murmured thanks. Ayame bowed as well.

"You're very kind, Lady Takani. Please forgive the imposition." There was only a barest hint of a tremble.

"Nonsense." Megumi laid a gentle hand on the girl's head. "Give me a moment to speak with Sir Sano. I'll be along shortly."

Hana ushered them off, clucking like a mother hen. The girls walked slow and shocky, exhaustion in every line of their bones. Megumi watched them go, for a moment, before she turned to Sano.

"Dead?"

"Yeah." He wrapped the horse's reins around his fingers to stop them trembling. It'd been easy to hold back his rage with the need to see the girls taken care of, but now it was seeping back, like water into a badly-tarred ship. "I think she was murdered."

"Think?" Megumi asked sharply. Her eyes glimmered cold in the half-lit courtyard.

Sano looked away, mouth twisting into a frown. "It looks like she killed herself."

Megumi reared back, fury sparking in her eyes, her tight stance, the tips of her hair – and then she focused, somehow, all that energy tightening down into one inexorable point.

"You're right," she said, with absolute certainty. "She wouldn't kill herself. What does Sir Ken believe?"

"What d'you think?" Sano stretched out his hands, helplessness bearing down on him like a mountain. "You know what he's like."

Her lips pressed together, bloodless, and fear bloomed behind her focused rage.

"You have to go back," she said urgently. "Right away! Before he – "

"I know." He cut her off, not as harshly as he wanted to; she loved Kenshin, after all, and it wasn't her fault that Sano didn't know what to do. "But I had to get the kids safe first, yeah? If there's someone lurkin' around tryin' t'fuck with Kenshin's head…"

He let it trail off, not wanting to say the rest. Because there was only one reason someone would kill Kenshin's wife like that, and if the killer was trying to make Kenshin hurt – well. For someone after revenge, there was no such thing as overkill.

She blinked, then snorted. "Yes, I see your point. But they'll be safe here. Go. Help Sir Ken. Find out who did this." Her eyes were very cold. "And when you do, make sure you leave some for me."

And Sano almost loved her, then, standing under the dying moon with vengeance in her eyes. He grinned at her.

"You got it, Foxy."

"Take the horse." She waved idly in its direction as she turned away. "I don't have the space for it, and you'll need the speed. I don't care how much you hate them."

"Yes, ma'm," he muttered, and mounted up.


Sano's reappearance stirred up the hive again. He found himself confronted, this time, by someone he dimly remembered as Kenshin's chief retainer, who demanded to know where the children were.

"Safe," Sano said, dismounting gingerly. He hated horses. "That's all you need to know."

The samurai drew himself up, his long face darkening with rage, and started to say something. Sano cut him off.

"D'you really believe she killed herself?" He held the other man's gaze, stubborn, and watched him give way.

"…no," he finally conceded. Sano nodded, grimly glad that he wasn't going to have to fight his way in.

"Exactly. So the kid're somewhere safe, an' that's where they're gonna stay 'til I got this sorted out."

The chief retainer looked down his long nose, eyes cold, and Sano knew he wasn't going to forget this. "You will?"

"Yeah." Sano shoved his hands in his pockets, acid in his lopsided grin. "'Cause right now, I don't trust you lot, either."

With that he went inside, and no one tried to stop him. Kenshin still hadn't moved, though he'd lowered the body to rest with its head in his lap, his fingers tangled in her hair. Someone had brought in a brighter lantern, and Sano could see the shine of dried tears streaking his face.

"Kenshin."

His friend didn't look up.

"Kenshin, y'gotta stand up." Sano went to Kenshin's side, reaching out and then pulling back at the last minute, uncertain. "Stand up, dammit!" His fist clenched at his side. "This is a setup, dammit, can't you see that? Why the hell would she kill herself? Someone did this, and we gotta find out who, an' make 'em pay! Sure, it won't bring her back to life but – it's somethin', ain't it?"

His voice cracked as he spoke, a desperate fear thrumming in his veins. Because he knew his friend, and the cracks that ran deep in his soul. How could he not, after that first winter, the first time he'd sat with Kenshin through the anniversary – and now there would be two, Sano thought dimly, two seasons given over to Kenshin's mourning.

Would be. Not might be. Because Kenshin was not going to do the stupid thing.

Silence. But he thought he saw Kenshin's lashes tremble and kept going, emboldened. Any response…

"Ain't it? I mean, shit, Kenshin, I met the lady. She didn't have anythin' worth dyin' for, 'specially not lately – "

"Yes, she did." Sano stuttered to a stop as Kenshin raised his head. "I was wrong, Sano. That I was."

There was nothing at all in his eyes. Sano's throat worked, thick with unnamable emotion.

"…wrong? Whaddya mean, wrong?"

Kenshin looked down again, studying the body, and touched the tips of his fingers gently to its lips.

"Forgive me," he murmured, closing his eyes. "I thought… no. I let myself believe. Blind and selfish, and a fool. Forgive me. Forgive me…"

"Forgive you what?" Sano's breath caught hard in the back of his throat. "Kenshin, what are y'talkin' about?"

The shadows flickered and danced, casting the room at strange and tilting angles. The house was silent, its inhabitants still stunned, and it seemed as though the force of the event had stilled the world itself. No winds blew, no birds called. Or perhaps the world had shrunk, had become no more than Sano and Kenshin in this bloody room, and the bodies that lay like broken dolls.

"Lord Tokugawa spoke with her, on Tanabata Eve." There was a strange, serene smile hovering at the edge of Kenshin's lips. "Did I tell you that? I didn't realize, until now, what it meant… she said they talked about her father. Her father. Of course." He almost laughed then, bitter. "I should have seen. I know what that man is capable of. I should have seen."

He bent down and kissed the body on the forehead, once, before he slid its head gently from his lap and laid it on the tatami like it was something holy.

"I should have seen."

Sano watched, beginning to understand. Horror surged from the pit of his stomach to set his heart racing, dizzy with the implications.

"Kenshin," he started to say. "Kenshin, no, y'can't think that – shit, Kenshin, there's no way y'wouldn't've noticed if she didn't wanna – goddamn, Kenshin, I've met the woman, she'd'a slit your throat before her own, if you'd been – "

He couldn't finish the sentence; it hurt too much. Kenshin stared up at Sano with eyes like the void.

"She was samurai," he said quietly. "Born to serve. And I was her husband. What other path did she have, if she couldn't do her duty?"

Footsteps pounded along the hall. Sano whipped around, moving to stand between Kenshin and the door as it flew open. A messenger stood in the hall, breathing hard.

"My lord," he said. "My lord Himura, the shōgun summons you to audience."

"Oh, hell no – "

"It's all right, Sano." Kenshin's voice, clear and calm. Sano turned to see that Kenshin was standing, his back straight, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "I'll go."

Kenshin brushed past him, eyes still dead. Sano followed, silent.


No one stopped them. The guards and servants only watched, wide-eyed, as they made their way through the tangled halls of the shōgun's residence in perfect silence. Kenshin walked like he knew where he was going, and looked neither right nor left.

The shōgun was waiting for them in one of the smaller chambers, four guards arrayed around him. Kenshin gave a perfunctory nod, barely a bow, as he stepped in and settled before his liege. Sano didn't even bother with that. One of the guards started to stand, fury creasing his face, before the shōgun raised his hand in warning. The guard subsided. Sano lounged back against the doorway, crossed his arms, and waited.

"Himura."

"Eminence." Kenshin's voice was colder than Sano had ever heard it, short and clipped. "I've come to hold you to your promise."

Sano straightened, frowning. The shōgun gave a heavy sigh, resting his hands carefully atop his thighs.

"I must ask you to reconsider," he said quietly, as though there were no witnesses. "For the good of the nation – "

"With respect," Kenshin interrupted, "there is nothing to reconsider. A promise was made when the marriage was arranged. That promise will be kept, one way or another." His gaze bore into the shōgun and Sano – who'd been on the receiving end of that sort of stare from Kenshin, once or twice before – wondered how the man could keep his face so still.

A small frown tugged at Lord Tokugawa's lips.

"Leave us," he said, waving to the guards. They glanced at one another, uncertain, and got slowly to their feet. The shōgun snorted, hearing their unspoken objection.

"And what could any of you do, if this man resolved to kill me? Other than die, that is. Get out."

They hurried away. Sano did not. The shōgun gave him long, considering glance before turning his attention back to Kenshin.

"Kenshin," he said softly, and that made Sano start. His fists dropped to his sides and clenched, anger surging in him that the man had addressed Kenshin as a friend after what he'd done – all that he'd been responsible for. "Is there nothing else?"

Kenshin laughed then, a small and bitter thing, like the stone in a pickled plum.

"No, my lord." He shook his head. "No." Although his lips curved slightly, the face he made was no more a smile than a corpse's bared teeth was a grin. "Not since Tanabata." There was a fury in his eyes that Sano had never seen before, barely held in check. "That mistake surprised me, my lord, when I realized it tonight. You've always so renowned for your patience."

"Tanabata…?" The shōgun searched Kenshin's face, understanding dawning in his own. "Kenshin. I swear to you, on the heads of my children – by my title and all I have ever possessed – nothing I said to your wife that night was intended – "

"I am sure you intended nothing, my lord," Kenshin bit out. "Nonetheless. The act occurred. Keep your promise, or I will."

"What promise – ?" Sano started to ask, before Kenshin shot him a subduing glance.

The shōgun looked away, pain written briefly on his features. And Sano thought, for a moment, that it might be genuine.

"…very well." The moment ended; he drew himself up and was only the shōgun. "The ceremony will be performed tomorrow, at dawn. Some time is required," he explained dryly, "both to prepare the site and gather the necessary components. I will stand as your second, unless there is some other you would prefer."

"I have no preference," Kenshin said, bowing. "I am grateful for your understanding, my lord."

Sano stared, gape-mouthed, as Kenshin stood and walked out of the room. The world tilted, out of balance.

"You're just gonna let him – " he sputtered, advancing on the shōgun in a sudden haze of fury, and grief, and fear – because it had happened so quickly, and he hadn't even had a chance to say anything, Kenshin had just gone and done it and this asshole had let him – and now Kenshin was gonna kill himself –

"And do you think I can stop him?" The shōgun drew himself to his feet in one swift motion, his presence suddenly overpowering. There was anger in his face, anger that Sano didn't believe. Because if he'd really cared, he'd never have let Kenshin walk out that door. "Do you think there is a single thing I can say or do, at this point, to sway that man from his chosen path?"

"I think y'used 'im up an' now that he's gone an' broken on ya y'r just gonna just spit 'im out!" Sano snapped, his gutter cant thicker than it had been in years. "'Cause that's what you fuckers do, ain't it? Use us 'till we got no use left, then turn us out t'die an' call it mercy. Y'r all the same, you samurai fucks, th' only thin' that changes're y'goddamn names – "

He shut his mouth, abruptly aware of who he was talking to. The shōgun seemed to sigh, his gaze drifting down and inwards.

"So it is," he said, softly enough that Sano had to strain to hear. "So it has ever been, it would seem. And I will answer for what I have done, in this life or the next." His eyes lifted, meeting Sano's, and Sano's mouth went dry at the power in them. "But for now, young man – you have a day and a night. If you want your friend to live… find him a reason."

He was still mustering a comeback when the shōgun left.


Rage knotted and tore in Sano's chest as he stalked through the halls, daring someone to challenge him. No one took him up on it. No one ever dared to meet his eyes.

Find him a reason, the shōgun had said, as if he was ordering a servant after a cup of sake. As if this was Sano's problem to fix – and the real bitch of it was that the jumped-up samurai bastard was right. No one else gave any kind of a real damn about Kenshin, not the shōgun, not the court, not his retainers, nobody. It had always been that way, just him and Megumi covering Kenshin's back and it had worked perfectly fucking fine until that hollyhocked fuck had gotten the notion in his head that Kenshin needed a title and another captive bride and a goddamn estate, like it wasn't bad enough he'd made the poor man samurai.

Some fucking reward. But that was the way of things, wasn't it, even if you were born samurai: the shit always rolls downhill.

Ahead of him, leaving the palace, he caught a glimpse of red hair in the torchlight. Sano bounded after Kenshin, words crowding on his tongue.

"Kenshin! Kenshin!"

Kenshin looked back, briefly, and halted where he was.

"Kenshin, y'fucking can't." Sano skidded to a stop, barking his toes on the courtyard's stone. "Don't do this."

"I have to." The death in Kenshin's eyes flickered for a moment, raw grief showing through like a wound. "Sano – it doesn't matter what I thought – I hurt her, Sano. Again. Again, I failed to protect the one person I most needed to…" He shook his head. "No more."

"Then what about the girls?" Sano threw out, desperate. "Y'can't just leave 'em – they lost their mom, their dad, their sister, y'want 'em t'lose you, too?"

The torches cast stark shadows across Kenshin's face as he took a step back, anguish tightening his face.

"I – "

Sano pressed his advantage.

"You do this, they won't have nobody."

"I don't…" Kenshin's throat worked, his fists twisting in cloth at his sides. Finally, he looked away. "I don't have the right, anymore. After what I did – misusing her as I did, taking what I had no right to… she would never trust me with them. I…"

His voice was small, and very broken. There was a look in his eyes as though he was understanding something for the first time; a sick look, like he might faint.

"I have no right," he said again. "Sano, please…"

Sano crossed his arms, his bones running alternately hot and cold, and said nothing. Kenshin bowed his head.

"I don't expect you to understand," he said, after a long moment, and walked away.

Sano watched him, the knot in his chest burning tighter and hotter until it burst; then he roared, swearing, and slammed his fist into the wall. The stone cracked, splintering and digging under his skin. He welcomed the pain.

"Sir Sano?" The voice was male, mild and cultured, and gentle enough that he wanted to punch its owner on general principle. He snarled instead.

"Now is not the fucking time."

"Please, Sir Sano." There was a soft scuff as whoever it was took a step closer. "Although I see by your garb that you do not share my Christian faith, perhaps there is nonetheless some counsel I might give you, as one…" he hesitated here, briefly. "…as one spiritual advisor, to another."

That – unusual as it was – managed to cut through red haze building in Sano's eyes. He blinked, shaking his head to clear it, and focused on the newcomer. He was a tall, lean fellow, almost willowy, and dressed in the robes of a Portuguese priest. His eyes were wide and liquid, and he touched a strange set of prayer beads briefly to his lips before he spoke again.

"It is possible, perhaps, that I might be of some service, in this difficult time."

There was an urgent twist in his voice, too urgent for what he was saying. Sano frowned.

"All right." He crossed his arms, aware that he towered over the priest and using it. "Talk."

"Perhaps in a more comfortable location?" The urgency hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown stronger. "There is a place I know, not far from here, which is quite suited to important conversations."

Sano looked at him for a long moment, judging. On the one hand, this smelled ripe as a fishmarket at noon. On the other… if the girls couldn't knock Kenshin out of his stupor, nothing could. The only thing that might sway him was proof that the lady hadn't felt herself ill-used and killed herself to escape the torment of her marriage. That she had – as Sano believed – been murdered, by someone who knew Kenshin well enough to make it look like a suicide. Because a murder… a murder, Kenshin would live long enough to avenge. And in that time, he might be able to come to terms with what had happened. A murder, he might be able to survive.

A suicide, though – another wife dead at her own hand, because he'd made a mistake, however innocent that mistake might be – that was guaranteed to drive him into the deepest possible despair.

Maybe the priest was blowing smoke, or totally uninvolved. And maybe he wasn't. But Sano didn't have anywhere else to start.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Lead the way, priest."


The priest led him to a small, secluded garden, one of the dozens of pockets of greenery that laced the palace grounds like pools in a forest stream. One of the conceits of the upper class: they liked having little nooks to hide away in. This particular garden wasn't much more than a bed of moss shielded by a few trees, tucked in the corner where two walls met. Ivy climbed up the stone, black under the moonlight.

Sano waited for the priest to start. The young man clutched himself; shuddered, once; and then, with a sigh, he spoke.

"Lady Himura did not kill herself."

Triumph threatened to break Sano's carefully blank expression and he stomped on it, waiting. The priest bit hard on his thumbnail, unable to meet Sano's eyes.

"Forgive me. I break my holy vow of obedience, speaking to you… My Japanese name, the name I was born with, is Ichiro. I am an initiate, only, but I have the gifts of tongues and so I am – I am – "

His throat worked.

"I was sent to Edo as an agent of the conspiracy to destroy Lord Himura and, with him gone, overthrow the Tokugawa regime." The words came faster, now, stumbling over each other, leaving Sano neither time nor space to respond. "I do not know where the origins of the conspiracy lie, only that it exists… and that my brothers in Christ believe it may be in the best interests of the Holy Father in Rome to allow it to succeed, and I do not. I do not! I have prayed, for weeks now, that God might tame my sinful heart and lead me to obedience, but He has not done so. And even as I struggled with my shame, I was sent here, to be the order's agent in this matter – to assist the conspirators, if they so required it, though they did not and I do not – I do not know what I would have done, had they asked – "

Sano took a step forward, caught somewhere between cold fury and confusion, his head still light and spinning with the night's horrors. Nothing seemed quite real, least of all this.

"Slow down, kid," he said, guessing that the man was younger than him. "Whaddya mean, conspiracy?"

The priest hugged himself tighter, his breath coming short and hard. Then he closed his eyes, tangling his fingers in his prayer beads.

"There is a conspiracy," he began again, more calmly this time. "A conspiracy to weaken the Tokugawa by removing Lord Himura from the playing field. The – the other Japanese priests and converts, they do not know. Only I know. I am gifted at languages, you see, and the heads of my order believed that – that because I am peasant-born, and not samurai, because without the order I would still be a peasant, I could be trusted. And they needed my gift." He breathed deep, shuddering. "It is known that Lord Tokugawa does not trust the Portuguese. It is believed by my order that, in time, he will expel them from the country. So, you see, his removal from power is our – their – best interests. This can be accomplished, but only at great cost – and not at all, if Lord Himura still lives to stop it."

"So y'killed his wife?" Sano was numb, head buzzing like angry bees, wanting to pound the man into the ground and wanting, just barely more than that, to understand.

"No." The priest shook his head. "We – knew of the conspiracy. Passed information – but the act was not ours to perform. I was sent here, to Edo, under pretense, to lend what aid I could, but only if it was asked of me. For if the conspiracy failed, it would be better that we be able to pretend our hands were clean…"

Sano stepped hard on his rage, holding himself back, and asked the important question very, very carefully.

"An' was it asked of you?"

The priest rolled a bead between his fingers, his lips moving briefly in prayer.

"No. And – I do not know what I would have done, had it been."

"Okay." Sano forced himself to ebb, to focus on what was here and now, not on vengeance against forces he didn't yet understand. "Fine. So who did do it? An' why're y' tellin' me now, when it doesn't do any damn good?"

"I don't know. Traitors – men among Lord Himura's retinue who had been suborned. I don't know their names, or faces. And I – " The priest looked up at Sano, anguish written in his pale face. "I tried to warn Lord Himura. I did not – I failed, I spoke too obscurely – I thought, perhaps, if I could jog his suspicions, enough that he pressured me, then I might be forced to tell, and then I would not have to choose – I am a Christian!" he cried, passion cracking through his cultured tones. "I believe in God Almighty, who made heaven and all of earth, in the salvation of souls and the forgiveness of sins! But first, I am Japanese – and I hear more than my brothers in Christ believe. Hear and understand, as they do not – that they would plunge us into civil war again, into more chaos, more death, another endless war, and I cannot believe that such a thing is what God desires!"

He gasped for air, choking, and as hard as Sano looked he couldn't see a lie.

"I have prayed, and prayed, and I cannot reconcile myself with my superiors' orders. My conscience will not permit it. And so I must – I must believe my conscience, above all things, even though it places me in opposition to my superiors. I must." The priest was speaking more to himself than anyone else. Sano listened anyway. "Is it not taught that our conscience is our link to God? If I cannot be obedient in this – if He has not taken my doubts and fears from me – then I must believe that it is His will that I do this."

Sano watched him closely. He seemed to be trembling; there was exhaustion written in his face, sleeplessness and fear, and too much emotion for what he was saying to be a lie. And youth – he was young, younger than Sano. Young enough for pity.

"Okay." Sano stuck his hands in his pockets. "Y'got any proof?"

"Proof?" The priest looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"I know Kenshin. He'll need more'n your word, no offense." Sano's mind was racing, trying to leap above the tangled, raw emotions that had always been his downfall. He couldn't afford to lose his cool, not now. Kenshin's life depended on it. "We need proof, or he's gonna go ahead an' slit his belly come tomorrow dawn, an' there ain't nothin' that'll stop him 'cept knowin' for a fact that he didn't drive the lady t'kill herself t'escape him."

The priest was staring, lips parted.

"Is that why…?" He swallowed. "Forgive me. I – as I said, I knew only that the conspiracy existed, and what their goal was, and a little of when they planned to strike. I – still do not know why the Lady Himura was the one who. And I did not know, until it was done, that she was the target."

"Ain't your business." Sano said shortly. "Without goin' into the details... anyone who knows Kenshin, knows what seein' somethin' like that'd do t'him. There's more ways t'kill a man than with a sword."

The priest's throat worked as he swallowed again. Then he seemed to straighten.

"I – I know there was another agent. A child. Someone who, if necessary, could draw close to Lord Himura without raising suspicion… but Lord Himura had no pages, so I do not know who that child might be."

Sano exhaled, running his fingers through his hair.

"Damn."

"We might ask Sir Uramura," the priest suggested, hesitantly.

"Who?"

"Lord Himura's chief retainer. I know – I know, for a fact, that he had no part in this. Or if he did – he would gladly turn on them, now. Because they would have had to lie to him, if it was their plan to kill Lady Himura. He would never consent to harm Lord Kamiya's daughter."

Sano considered this, for a moment. Then he nodded, turning on his heel.

"Right. C'mon, kid. An' try t'keep up – I lose sight a' you, I might start getting' suspicious. Know what I mean?"

The priest took another shuddering breath and hurried to follow him.


Dawn was lightening the eastern sky by the time they managed to hunt down Sir Uramura. He was returning from Zōjō temple, having escorted the lady's body there to await cremation. No one seemed to know when her funeral would take place; they were too busy fretting over their own fates to worry about a body's. Word of Kenshin's decision had spread, and no one knew what was going to happen next.

Sano found Uramura at the gates of the castle, and was surprised to see that the man was walking alone. His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed; he was studying the ground in front of him as he walked with the careful deliberation of a man fighting powerful emotion.

Sano hailed him. He looked up, hi frown deepening in his long face as he recognized Sano – and Sano recognized him as the man who'd challenged him about the location of the children.

"You," he said flatly, coming to a halt. Sano stopped a few paces away, holding out his palms in a supplicant's gesture.

"Me."

"What do you want?"

"A favor."

The samurai barked out a laugh. Sano shrugged, feigning ease as the new day's light crept across the rooftops.

"I got a lead on who might'a killed the lady. Seems you're in the best position to help. But if y'don't wanna…" He started to turn away.

"What do you know?" Uramura asked, quickly. Sano gestured to the priest, standing behind him with his prayer beads still knotted in his fingers, lips moving ceaselessly in silent prayer.

"It's more what he knows," Sano explained, "an' it ain't for just anyone's ears. You got a place we can talk privately?"

Uramura looked at them both for a long moment, eyes remote. Then he nodded.

"My office should be secure. Come with me."

He led them into the long, low barracks building attached to Kenshin's hushed manor. His office was a small, cramped space, much smaller than the communal work areas, but it was at the very end of the barracks, separate from the common space by storage. And there was no one around to hear.

"Go on, then," Sano said, once they'd settled. "Tell 'im."

The priest gulped, looking at Sano and finding no reassurance there. Then, with another hard swallow, he squared his shoulders and told his story. Uramura listened silently, no hint of his feelings crossing his face until the very end, when he let out a long, aching sigh.

"I see," he said, and folded his hands neatly in his lap.

"Anyway," Sano said, after enough time had passed. "We gotta find this kid – an' we figured, since you'd know who's part a' the household an' all, y'might know where to start looking."

"As it happens, I do." Uramura's voice was far too calm. "Or, I used to. However, the individual I believe you seek has been missing since yesterday morning."

Sano frowned. "Whaddya mean?"

Uramura's eyes were distant. "Lady Kaoru's cousin, young Sir Yahiko, disguised himself as a stableboy and joined Lord Himura's household during his introductory visit to Hito province. When the lady discovered what he had done, she ordered him to return home. He came to me, instead, and I agreed to help him remain, hiding what I had done from the lady. At the time, I… did not see the harm."

"Didn't see the harm." Sano said it flatly, his patience wearing. So many secrets – so many lies, of one kind or another. How had Kenshin managed to breathe with all this deception crowding the air? "The fuck are you on about?"

Uramura didn't flinch, though Sano could see that he wanted to.

"I thought that the boy was only concerned for Lady Kaoru's welfare. He was the appointed heir, since Lord Kamiya had no sons; they were raised more a siblings than cousins. I thought it would do no harm to let him stay until he saw for himself that she was well, and in no danger from Lord Himura." He hung his head. "It seems I was wrong."

"I'll fuckin' say!" Sano crossed his arms, sitting back and squashing his anger with everything he had. "Now what're gonna fuckin' do? You don't know where the kid is?"

"No." Uramura shook his head. "When I went to wake him yesterday morning, he was gone. His possessions were still there. I sent men out, discreetly, to search for him, but none of them have returned."

"Well, fuck." Sano scratched his head and tried to think of something to say, something to suggest. He couldn't. "Fuck."

"Where did you send the men to look?" The priest flushed as he spoke, as if he was startled at his own forwardness. "Perhaps we might go search ourselves…"

"That will not be necessary."

Sano half-rose, fists clenching. Urumura grabbed the hilt of his shortsword, pulling it partway from the sheath. The priest tried to make himself very, very small.

The man who now stood in the doorway – the man whom none of them had heard or sensed coming – surveyed them expressionlessly. He was tall, and very lean, with black hair that hung over deep green eyes. A boy leaned against him, badly beaten.

"Sir Yahiko!" Uramura gasped, paling as he rose to his feet. "And Lord Aoshi – what's going on?"

"Who the fuck is this?" Sano demanded. The newcomer – Aoshi – helped the boy kneel. The kid grabbed on to the edge of Uramura's desk, using it to keep himself upright. He'd been thoroughly worked over, his skin a darkening patchwork of bruises.

"I am an ally to the Lady Kaoru," the man said, kneeling. "That is all you need to know."

"Excuse me?" Sano reared back. "That's not your fucking call – "

"He is," Uramura interrupted, settling back on his heels. "Lord Aoshi is... was… a close ally of Lord Kamiya. With Lord Kamiya's death, that alliance passed to his daughter."

Sano kept his voice as flat as he could, head pounding like a drum. "An' nobody told Kenshin about this?"

Aoshi raised an eyebrow. "Such matters were left to the Lady Kaoru's discretion," he said simply. "I reveal myself now because it is the most efficient way to come to her aid. That is all."

"Little late for that, buddy." Sano snorted, crossing his arms as he sank reluctantly back down, jaw aching as he ground his teeth. This was getting weird – conspiracies and secret allies and god knows what else waiting to pop out of the woodwork…

Stay calm. Listen. Wait. Look for the truth. That was what he had to do. Not go haring off – he couldn't afford to fuck this up. If he did… this time, Kenshin wouldn't be there to bail him out.

Aoshi gave him a solemn look.

"That… remains to be seen. Yahiko."

The boy, who had been quiet until now, flinched. He looked up at Aoshi and swallowed.

Then he started talking.

He'd made his bargain only a week after Kaoru's marriage. A man had approached him, a representative of the conspiracy, and promised Kaoru's safety if Yahiko found a way to infiltrate Lord Himura's household and pass information. He would also serve as the point of contact for the conspiracies and its members within the manor: samurai who still sought vengeance for Lord Kamiya. So he'd made the bargain. What did it matter if a demon died, as long as Kaoru was safe?

At first, his plan was to get Lord Himura to take him on as a page. When that failed, he disguised himself as a stableboy and snuck into Lord Himura's retinue, leaving a note for his parents claiming that he had gone to try and convince Lord Himura to take him on. They'd never followed up, so he'd assumed they were content to leave him to his own devices. After all, he was eleven years old, and it was time for him to start making his own decisions.

But Lord Himura hadn't been what he'd expected. He didn't abuse his servants; in fact, he was very kind, even when they made errors that he had every right to dismiss them over. And no matter how hard Yahiko looked, he couldn't see any evidence that he was hurting Kaoru or the girls. The one time he'd spoken to Lord Himura – who hadn't recognized him, as they'd never met – the man had been very gentle. And Yahiko had begun to think that maybe the rumours weren't true…

Still, when Kaoru had ordered him home, he'd wanted to stay. Because he wasn't sure. And if he did become sure, then it'd be useful, right? He could warn Lord Himura. But he hadn't known exactly when the attack was coming – so yesterday morning, when his contact had intercepted him on the way back from the bathhouse and told him what was happening, he'd been surprised. And sleepy. And hesitated.

They'd gotten the truth from him, then, and beaten him to stop him from warning Lord Himura. He didn't know anything else.

Silence filled the room after he'd finished. Then Aoshi shifted.

"And here is what Yahiko did not know," he said, drawing out a letter and placing it in the center of the desk. "After the incident with the Black Hat, Lady Kaoru wrote to my wife, asking us to investigate a man called Whitehair, whom the Black Hat had mentioned as being his employer. We had been aware of a conspiracy against Lord Himura; with this name, we were able to trace the conspiracy to its source."

"Which is?" Sano ground his teeth, knowing that he needed all the information and nonetheless wanting to get to the part where he could hit someone.

"Several nobleman, gathered and united under the auspice of this Whitehair. Whitehair has a personal grudge against the Tokugawa, and Kenshin in particular. I know his location."

"Then what are we waitin' around here for?" Sano was on his feet in a flash, heading for the door. "We gotta get Kenshin – tell 'im it was murder, give him something t'focus on – "

Aoshi held up his hand, quietly commanding. "It was not murder."

"Whaddya mean, not murder?" Sano rounded on him, fuming. "You ain't sayin' she killed herself?"

"I am saying I do not believe she is dead," Aoshi said, so calmly that Sano almost didn't understand what he was saying. Then he did.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Sano said, staring. "There was a fucking body."

Aoshi made a dismissive gesture. "That means nothing. A body can be faked. Listen: what benefit could there be in killing the Lady Kaoru? The destruction of Lord Himura, but that is all. And from what I understand of Whitehair's nature, that is not enough, in his mind, to warrant the death of a young woman. Especially not a young woman with a claim on Hito province."

Yahiko sucked in a breath, wincing at his ribs expanded. Aoshi nodded.

"Indeed. As things stand, the Lady Kaoru is the only eligible female of close enough descent from the Kamiya to have a claim. Her sisters are too young, and other female relatives too distant. Marriage to her enables a claim on the province that would be otherwise… problematic. Between that, and certain idiosyncrasies I have uncovered in Whitehair's nature, I believe that he has kept her alive."

Sano sank slowly back down, staring hard at Aoshi. The light-headedness was back, the surging sense of unreality: but the man seemed so damn sure. Like a rock in a hurricane.

"Can y'prove it?" he asked

"I can."

"How?"

"I must examine her body."

"What the fuck?" Sano exploded, slamming his hand down on the mats for emphasis. "We can't just – it's her fucking body, show some respect – "

Aoshi inclined his head in acknowledgment, then continued.

"There are ways, known to myself and to others, to construct a realistic and convincing simulacra of a dead body. I cannot determine the nature of the body discovered last evening without closer inspection."

"I…" Sano grasped desperately for a reason not to, shuddering at the thought. "We can't just…"

Aoshi shrugged. "It is the only way to be sure."

"Okay, but how're we gonna get t'it in time? It's already dawn!" Sano argued, despite the sinking feeling in his gut that told him the man was probably right.

"I could arrange for access…" Uramura murmured.

"No." Aoshi shook his head. "I know where the Lady Kaoru is being held, if she is alive. There will be agents watching the corpse. If she lives, and it is made obvious that we know she lives, they will move her. This is better done in secrecy. We will go tonight; the ritual is scheduled for dawn tomorrow, is it not?"

"…yeah…" Sano's heart slammed against his ribs. The whole thing was sick. But – if she was still alive… if they could prove it, then Kenshin…

"All right." Sano took a deep breath. "Let's do it."


Sano didn't tell Kenshin, in the end. He'd thought about it, all the way back to Megumi's to check in on the girls. And he'd still been thinking about it when he'd told Megumi what had happened, so he'd asked her, and she'd raised her delicate brows at him in condescension.

"And what could you tell him?" she'd said, in a tone of utmost reason. "That the Lady Kaoru was either murdered or is still alive, and the only way to find out which is close examination of her corpse? That's hardly cheerful news."

"Yeah, but – I mean, I should at least tell him that this isn't his fault…"

"Isn't it?" She'd raised a hand, silencing him as he started to object. "Consider it from his perspective. He believes – wrongly, it would seem, but nonetheless quite firmly – that Lady Kaoru killed herself because he abused and dishonored her. All you can tell him with any certainty is that it is very likely – not certain – that she did not kill herself, but was either murdered or kidnapped by a conspiracy of his enemies. So it's still his fault.."

"But it ain't – "

"You know as well as I do that he won't see it that way. Wait until you know for sure. If all you can offer him is vengeance, then offer him that – but don't torment him with a hope that may be false. That will kill him."

He hadn't been able to argue with that. He hadn't been able to face the girls, either, so he'd taken Megumi at her word that they were as well as they could be and left for a long day of waiting. Uramura and Aoshi had spent it hunting traitors, searching through the long list of men in Kenshin's retinue to find those who might have been involved in the conspiracy. The kid had been laid out in the next room, with the priest playing nursemaid and mumbling prayers to himself, looking like a man in the grip of fever.

Only Sano had had nothing to do but wait.

So wait he did, until nightfall and a little bit past that, to give the temple time to settle in and sleep.

Now he and Aoshi pressed silent into the shadows outside the building where Lady Kaoru's possibly-fake body lay, waiting for its cremation. It had taken them the better part of the night to sneak in; Aoshi didn't leave anything to chance. He'd waited until he was certain of the guards' patterns before waving them on, and now the night sky was blushing its way towards morning. It wasn't dawn, not quite yet, but it would be close. Very close. Close enough that Sano was having trouble keeping still.

"Let's go," he hissed. "We're running out of time!"

"Be silent," Aoshi said, curtly. Then he gave a sharp gesture, sliding out of the shadows and whipping around the corner to the building's entrance. Sano followed, ducking through the door just as it swung closed.

The inside was dark and reeked of incense. The air was dry with purifying salt, and in the faint moonlight filtering through the high, barred windows Sano could almost believe that the lady was only sleeping.

Aoshi drew a knife from his belt.

"What are you doing?" Sano whispered.

"Examining the body," Aoshi said simply, and plunged it into the corpse's belly. Sano choked back a shout, his stomach lurching at the wet suck and slap of meat tearing apart. Aoshi worked silently, face grim, and Sano had to turn away.

"Ah," Aoshi said, after an interminable moment. "Look."

Fighting back nausea, Sano looked back to see Aoshi drawing something thin and coiling from the body, holding it up to the light. Rope.

Rope!

Aoshi waved him in closer and Sano went, shuddering. He pulled aside the flaps he'd made in the corpse's stomach, letting the dim light flood the empty cavity.

"…fuck," Sano breathed. Because it was empty – no stomach or lungs or liver, just a lattice of wood and rope where muscle and bone should be.

"Dead human flesh, preserved and shaped around a wooden skeleton. This is a false corpse." Aoshi's eyes met Sano's, gleaming with cold triumph. "Lady Kaoru is alive."


Sano had tried, once, when he was young and dumb, to outrun the wind. He'd failed, and Brother Souzo had laughed and told him that he'd gained a piece of wisdom in exchange for his aching feet: no man can defy the natural laws.

But Sano had never stopped trying.

Now he was older, with longer legs and stronger lungs, and he ran faster than he had ever run, because the sun was rising and it would rise red if he didn't make it. So he'd make it. There was no other option.

He stopped only once, after he'd vaulted his way onto the palace grounds, and that was to grab a passer-by and demand directions. They told him, trembling, and he took off towards the private courtyard where his best friend was going to do the unimaginably stupid as soon as the sun began to lift her yellow head above the horizon.

It was going to be a very clear day.

Sano ran, scattering servants and courtiers like frightened geese, and his heart beat a frantic tattoo against his ribs. The sky was light now, gray and pink and faint, faint gold.

Gold. The sun was rising.

He cold-cocked a guard set to keep the ceremony private and burst into the courtyard, panting. Kenshin was kneeling in the center of the jagged tiles, on two new mats set side-by-side, his fingers trembling as he grasped the dagger and aimed it at his gut, his hara, the source of a warrior's spirit and seat of all emotion. The shōgun stood to one side, his sword at ready.

Kenshin's hand moved –

"No!"

Sano was across the courtyard before he felt the force of the shout leaving his raw throat, his hand wrapped tight around Kenshin's wrist as his best friend strained to complete the blow. Kenshin's eyes were distant, seeing something – someone – that no one else could, caught between life and death and aching to die. Sano tightened his grips, feeling Kenshin's bones creak, and hoped that the pain would be enough to jolt him to awareness.

"Kenshin, she's alive!" The words spilled out, frantic and uncalculated. "She's alive, Kenshin, it was a trick, some bastard tricked us, tryin' t'fuck with your head, the corpse was a fake. She's alive and she's countin' on you, Kenshin, so you've got t'let go of the fucking knife, Kenshin!"

The haze in Kenshin's eyes seemed to lift. But there was still too much grief there for the human soul to bear – grief, and dawning betrayal as Sano forced the dagger to hang unmoving, the very tip of it pricking Kenshin's skin.

"She's alive," Sano said again, low and desperate. "Y'gotta believe me. She's alive."

Kenshin's lips moved, a soundless no, and Sano saw in his eyes that he did not believe.

"Would I lie t'you? About this? Would I fuckin' lie? Would I lie about this, Kenshin?" Sano demanded, staring into Kenshin's dazed, unbelieving eyes.

And, finally, finally, his eyes focused on Sano's face, searching, staring, begging. Finally – for the first time since Sano'd come into that bedroom-turned abattoir and seen him clutching the (false!) corpse to his chest, Kenshin saw.

"…Sano?"

"She's alive." Sano was breathing hard. "I can prove it. It was a trick. Someone who knew what you'd do, afterwards. They didn't kill her. She's alive."

A single, strangled moan. Kenshin's hand convulsed. The dagger fell onto his lap and slid off, spinning, to rest on the matting below.

"Alive…?"

"Yeah," Sano said, and loosened his grip. Kenshin gulped in air, breathing like a man just pulled from the sea. "It was a trick. Some kinda conspiracy – but that body, it's a fake. A – like a doll or somethin', but make of flesh, made t'look like her. It wasn't real."

"Not real." Kenshin's hand fell to his lap, his face pale and blank.

"And you can prove this?" the shōgun asked. Sano had almost forgotten that he was there. He looked up, blinking in the half-risen sun.

"Could y'give us a minute?" he snapped, irritated. Kenshin laughed, high-pitched and almost hysterical.

"Sano – " he gasped, his free hand gripping Sano's wrist. "I – "

"Take it easy, now," Sano said, the shōgun forgotten. He slid one arm around Kenshin, supporting him. "Easy."

"Show me," Kenshin said, in a voice like cracking stone. "Show me, Sano."

"Sure thing. Lemme just get you up, here…"

Slowly, stumbling, Sano got Kenshin to his feet. Kenshin wavered a little, leaning on him, then stood alone.

"It's still at Zōjō temple." Sano stayed close to Kenshin, worried. The man looked ready to collapse, for all his eyes burned with a frantic light. "You gonna make it that far?"

"Yes." Kenshin took a step, nearly fell, and then caught himself. "Sano. I need to – "

"I will call a palanquin," the shōgun said, striding out of the courtyard. It seemed to Sano that there was something very like relief in his eyes. "I'll send ahead to the temple, as well."

He paused at the edge of the porch, looking back at Sano. Sano met his eyes without flinching.

"Well done," he said.

"I didn't do it f'r you," Sano bit out, and turned his back. He though he heard the shōgun chuckle as he walked away.

"Sano…" Kenshin took another step. "It's true?"

He had the look a wild thing about him, some feral, frightened creature skulking in the undergrowth, wanting to believe in the promise of warmth and shelter but too old and wary to trust. The sun rose slowly above the horizon, sheathing the world with light.

"Yeah." Sano nodded. "Saw it with my own eyes, Kenshin. I wouldn't lie about this. You know I wouldn't."

"…yes." Kenshin sighed out. "…thank goodness."

His eyes slid closed and, very slowly, he collapsed.

Sano caught him, bore him up, and carried him.