--This story was co-written with my sister, Rosemary, whom you may contact at gohorses@yahoo.com.
--The story idea itself belongs to her, though I contributed to adding details to them. I was
--also the one who wrote the story, while she only made decisions. As a result, neither she nor
--I actually own Rurouni Kenshin. Heck, we don't even own Tsuyosa because we protray him along
--the elusive lines of Kaoru's father. We're not sure Tsuyosa is his real name even, but it's
--Japanese for strong and we thought it sounded pretty, so we decided to use it. Apoligies for
--any Out of Charactor you see, though we tried greatly to keep them out of that rut. Heck, we
--don't know how Tokio is supposed to act eithor, so we're not too sure about her . . .
--One final word: This story is slightly crossed over with Ranma 1/2. You don't need to be familar
--with it to be left in the dark, since I believe I explained everything in the story. However,
--it might be helpful for any inside jokes/puns I felt like tossing in. ^_^ C&C is ever so welcome.
--Please do not take and distribute this anywhere without my permission (dalimata@yahoo.com), or
--even run off with the idea. Thankyouverymuchos!
Some stories are meant to be told. These are the tales that exist within the folds of time,
waiting for someone to find them and give them to the world.
Thankfully, this is such a story.
This is a story meant to be told over and over again. It is what could have happened versus
what did happen. We choose to tell it to you because the other one was slightly more boring—er,
I mean, because it was such a delight to tell.
Kamura Tsuyosa was a man with different faces. The first and the more common one, was that of
calm seriousness. He tended to be more business-like and very strict, almost as if he were
uncomfortable with his surroundings.
"Oh bugger."
This was the face almost everyone acquainted him with, as he used it for business partners,
students, neighbors, casual friends, and strangers alike. But there was another face. This face
was far less seen than the others, for he only showed it to close friends and family.
It was the face of someone who never quite understood the meaning of maturity.
"You know, I think I'm supposed to be dead."
Of course, all things considering, this wasn't necessarily a BAD thing . . .
"Now why did they have to try and kill me? How very unsporting!"
. . . But it had its place and its time, and this was not it.
"So I guess I have to die now."
And, in all other dimensions, he did just that. But a stray thought occurred to him in one
reality; one that most people would not understand until the later future.
"Tokio will kill me if I do though! . . . Um, yeah! And Kaoru will be left without a parent!
I've got to live! I've got to move! I've got—OUCH!!! . . . Okay, I'll concentrate on the living
part, and then work my way up to the moving part."
Three years later . . .
Saitou Hajime, current police officer, Mibu Wolf, and swordsman extroidanare, was not a man
who took orders. Oh yes, he might follow up on suggestions, but it all depended on whether it
followed his life's code of honor or not: Aku Soku Zan.
Well, in all areas but one.
Saitou Tokio was a strong woman, as most women who married impossible men usually were. Tiny
and feisty beyond belief, Tokio always got what she wanted.
And not even Saitou could do anything about it.
Which was why he was currently going through old papers and files, judging them for their use
or if they needed to be gotten rid of. It should be noted around here though, that Saitou was in
a world of misery. He hated paperwork. Kami, but he hated it!
And he had nothing to do about his misery since Tokio had searched him earlier (not that it
hadn't been fun) for cigarettes, not wanting him to smoke as he went through the papers.
And so, it was with a black heart that he laughed as he found and read a very old piece of
paper, which is the key to almost the entire story.
Well, he didn't laugh at first. His first reaction was: "Oh damn. I wish Tokio would tell me
who her relatives were before I tried to kill them." Then he laughed, seeing the irony in the
entire matter. So in all retrospect, none of this was Saitou's fault.
Well, almost.
Tokio called from another room in the house. "Hajime! You promised me you'd come to market and
carry my goods! Let's go already!"
"Yeah, yeah." Saitou stuffed the paper into his pocket and then made his way to the front door
where his wife was patiently waiting for him. He accepted his hat from her and then, looping his
arm through hers, led her through the door and down the walk of their yard. As they were leaving
the gated yard and were walking down the street, their house collapsed.
Tokio whirled around in time to see a purple streak bounce off the falling roof and onto the
street. It was a young woman with purple hair. She glanced quickly around herself without seeing
Saitou or Tokio, then ran away. Tokio looked from her house, and then to her husband.
"What was that about?" she demanded in a cold voice.
Saitou shrugged, attempting to appear innocent. It didn't work.
"I don't believe you!" Tokio looked back at her ruined home. "Now that our house is in shambles,
where are we going to stay?" She began to think of an answer to her own question as Saitou
suddenly remembered his cigarettes were in the house.
"Oh dammit," he whispered, feeling his lungs ache in sympathy.
Tokio ignored it. "Well, I'm sure Kaoru won't mind if we stay with her," she muttered to
herself. "After all, we haven't seen her since her father's death."
"Kaoru?" Saitou's awareness of the paper in his pocket doubled. "Why," he began slowly, still
miserable over his loss of cigarettes, "funny you should mention her . . ."
--The story idea itself belongs to her, though I contributed to adding details to them. I was
--also the one who wrote the story, while she only made decisions. As a result, neither she nor
--I actually own Rurouni Kenshin. Heck, we don't even own Tsuyosa because we protray him along
--the elusive lines of Kaoru's father. We're not sure Tsuyosa is his real name even, but it's
--Japanese for strong and we thought it sounded pretty, so we decided to use it. Apoligies for
--any Out of Charactor you see, though we tried greatly to keep them out of that rut. Heck, we
--don't know how Tokio is supposed to act eithor, so we're not too sure about her . . .
--One final word: This story is slightly crossed over with Ranma 1/2. You don't need to be familar
--with it to be left in the dark, since I believe I explained everything in the story. However,
--it might be helpful for any inside jokes/puns I felt like tossing in. ^_^ C&C is ever so welcome.
--Please do not take and distribute this anywhere without my permission (dalimata@yahoo.com), or
--even run off with the idea. Thankyouverymuchos!
Some stories are meant to be told. These are the tales that exist within the folds of time,
waiting for someone to find them and give them to the world.
Thankfully, this is such a story.
This is a story meant to be told over and over again. It is what could have happened versus
what did happen. We choose to tell it to you because the other one was slightly more boring—er,
I mean, because it was such a delight to tell.
Kamura Tsuyosa was a man with different faces. The first and the more common one, was that of
calm seriousness. He tended to be more business-like and very strict, almost as if he were
uncomfortable with his surroundings.
"Oh bugger."
This was the face almost everyone acquainted him with, as he used it for business partners,
students, neighbors, casual friends, and strangers alike. But there was another face. This face
was far less seen than the others, for he only showed it to close friends and family.
It was the face of someone who never quite understood the meaning of maturity.
"You know, I think I'm supposed to be dead."
Of course, all things considering, this wasn't necessarily a BAD thing . . .
"Now why did they have to try and kill me? How very unsporting!"
. . . But it had its place and its time, and this was not it.
"So I guess I have to die now."
And, in all other dimensions, he did just that. But a stray thought occurred to him in one
reality; one that most people would not understand until the later future.
"Tokio will kill me if I do though! . . . Um, yeah! And Kaoru will be left without a parent!
I've got to live! I've got to move! I've got—OUCH!!! . . . Okay, I'll concentrate on the living
part, and then work my way up to the moving part."
Three years later . . .
Saitou Hajime, current police officer, Mibu Wolf, and swordsman extroidanare, was not a man
who took orders. Oh yes, he might follow up on suggestions, but it all depended on whether it
followed his life's code of honor or not: Aku Soku Zan.
Well, in all areas but one.
Saitou Tokio was a strong woman, as most women who married impossible men usually were. Tiny
and feisty beyond belief, Tokio always got what she wanted.
And not even Saitou could do anything about it.
Which was why he was currently going through old papers and files, judging them for their use
or if they needed to be gotten rid of. It should be noted around here though, that Saitou was in
a world of misery. He hated paperwork. Kami, but he hated it!
And he had nothing to do about his misery since Tokio had searched him earlier (not that it
hadn't been fun) for cigarettes, not wanting him to smoke as he went through the papers.
And so, it was with a black heart that he laughed as he found and read a very old piece of
paper, which is the key to almost the entire story.
Well, he didn't laugh at first. His first reaction was: "Oh damn. I wish Tokio would tell me
who her relatives were before I tried to kill them." Then he laughed, seeing the irony in the
entire matter. So in all retrospect, none of this was Saitou's fault.
Well, almost.
Tokio called from another room in the house. "Hajime! You promised me you'd come to market and
carry my goods! Let's go already!"
"Yeah, yeah." Saitou stuffed the paper into his pocket and then made his way to the front door
where his wife was patiently waiting for him. He accepted his hat from her and then, looping his
arm through hers, led her through the door and down the walk of their yard. As they were leaving
the gated yard and were walking down the street, their house collapsed.
Tokio whirled around in time to see a purple streak bounce off the falling roof and onto the
street. It was a young woman with purple hair. She glanced quickly around herself without seeing
Saitou or Tokio, then ran away. Tokio looked from her house, and then to her husband.
"What was that about?" she demanded in a cold voice.
Saitou shrugged, attempting to appear innocent. It didn't work.
"I don't believe you!" Tokio looked back at her ruined home. "Now that our house is in shambles,
where are we going to stay?" She began to think of an answer to her own question as Saitou
suddenly remembered his cigarettes were in the house.
"Oh dammit," he whispered, feeling his lungs ache in sympathy.
Tokio ignored it. "Well, I'm sure Kaoru won't mind if we stay with her," she muttered to
herself. "After all, we haven't seen her since her father's death."
"Kaoru?" Saitou's awareness of the paper in his pocket doubled. "Why," he began slowly, still
miserable over his loss of cigarettes, "funny you should mention her . . ."