Resurrections and Rainbows

by Traum

A continuation after the Kyoto Arc that negates the happenings afterwards of both the manga and anime.

4. Rainbows

Resurrections and Rainbows

Chapter 4 - Rainbows

The sky was clear over the heads of Sanosuke and Yahiko, outside the Kammiya dojo, but just on the edge of the blue skies and crisp air, hung the dark clouds of coming rain. The two paid little, if any, attention to them; rain was not at all uncommon at this point in the year, and a fresh sprinkle of water would perhaps clear the sudden confusion that had been created earlier in the morning.

But while neither of the two youngsters paid much notice to the burgeoning clouds, they did give much of their attention to Kenshin, Aoshi, and their newfound friend, who had appeared, literally, out of nowhere. Both of their heads were clouded with questions about who this stranger was, and just what his presence at the dojo was needed for. Sanosuke, especially, found himself doubting just about everything this redheaded Samurai said. He seemed peaceful and straightforward enough, but his eyes were somewhat offsetting, almost like they blocked out everything except the focus of his attention. There was little he seemed able to do about it though; Kenshin had been very outright in his demands to leave himself and Aoshi alone with this other man, and Sanosuke knew better than to argue when Kenshin set his mind on something. So the two black-haired men were left to ponder the possibilities of what was going on within the dojo's walls. Each, of course, had their own unique perspective.

"That guy doesn't look Japanese; I bet he's some American trying to convince Kenshin to sponsor a product or something." Yahiko said, as the two of them sat on the porch, looking outwards with their chins resting on their hands.

"Carrying a sword, and using it the way he does? I don't think so. He's probably a government official or something, maybe trying to convince Kenshin to take on another assignment like he did with Shishio." Sano replied, his voice lacklustre but certain.

"Nah, I don't know if they'd ever demand that much of Kenshin again, especially after all you guys almost died fighting him. I could see him as a guy trying to convince Kenshin to teach him Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu; you know, since it's kind of hard to find Hiko Seijuro and all."

"Nope. Kenshin said he'd never teach his style to anyone after everything he's done with it. Plus, why would Aoshi be in there too then? I figure the guy's a master swordsman, who's challenging Kenshin and Aoshi to a match, or inviting them to a tournament or something." Sano paused a second before chuckling, "Idiot, he wouldn't last five seconds against either of them."

"I don't know, he seemed pretty good against that bald guy this morning, who almost took Kenshin's head off."

"Hah!" Sano laughed, "Kenshin was just playing with him, that's all. One quick battou-jutsu, and that guy would've been seeing stars till tomorrow."

Yahiko's voice suddenly dropped, as did his eyes, which suddenly became serious and full of worry, "I don't think so. It seems to me that Kenshin was already plenty serious when I got back after helping Kaoru inside. Kenshin might know this guy or something."

"No way, the way they were talking about some dream, it was almost like ---"

"Dream? What dream?" Yahiko cut off, his voice questioning.

"That's right; you weren't here when they talked about it. Seems like a dream of some kind---"

Sanosuke wasn't given the chance to finish his sentence, as the doors behind the two conversing warriors were slid open, and three other's stepped out from the darkness inside. "Kenshin!" Sano and Yahiko both shouted, instantly getting to their feet and turning to face their friend and comrade.

"Sano-san, Yahiko-kun," he replied, smiling at them and stepping out of the path of Aoshi and Cronos, who made their way down the steps and stood waiting in the front yard. Sano stared long and hard at Cronos as he walked by, trying to get some reaction out of the strange visitor. He provoked just as little as he had before they'd entered the dojo.

Kenshin motioned for the two younger men to talk with him on the side of the deck, and they quickly obliged. Both began to barrage Kenshin with questions, but the older man just waved them off and began speaking, "I'm going to be leaving for a little while, with Aoshi-san and Cronos, but I should be back before tomorrow evening. We're just going for a little hike to the foothills for a bit, and then I'll be coming home."

"Alright, then when do we leave?" Yahiko asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

"No, Yahiko-kun, you two can't come along on this one, it's not worth it. I'll be back before you know it, and I trust you two to keep the dojo safe while I'm gone."

"Hell no Kenshin, we're not letting you slip away, alone again, like you did to go fight Shishio!" Sano roared, raising a fist in defiance and spreading his legs to make sure Kenshin knew he had no intention of letting the Rurouni just leave.

Kenshin smiled back at the brash remarks of the man whom he had gained so much respect over the year, and then replied, "Don't worry Sano, this time I'm not going to fight one of the demons from my past, or topple a terrorist organization… at least, I don't think I'm going to. But if I end up having to do anything serious like that, I'll call on you guys, because I know I'll need your help."

The response seemed to quiet Sanosuke, but Yahiko wasn't so easily hushed, "But Kenshin, what if you don't have a chance to come back here? And what about Kaoru?"

Kenshin's smile faded, and his eyes narrowed in concentration, before tracking their way to the floor, where he spoke again, with a chided voice, "Kaoru-dono."

"Yeah," Yahiko picked up, "what are we supposed to tell her?" Yahiko questioned.

Kenshin wanted to say that she wouldn't worry about him leaving, and that she would be strong enough to sit there and wait for him. History told another tale though, and he knew that the chances of Kaoru sitting idly by while Kenshin was off were very slim. He didn't want to leave her alone there, but he told himself that he would only be gone a short while, almost reassuring himself more than the others. "Tell her I'll be back, soon."

"Kenshin," Yahiko started again, but was quickly cut off.

"Yahiko-kun, don't worry, this isn't anything like Shishio."

"But Kenshin," Yahiko retorted, his voice quickly lowering itself so only those close to him could hear, "I don't have a good feeling about this. Especially him." He nodded off towards Cronos.

"Yeah, he doesn't seem quite right, if you know what I mean, Kenshin," Sano added, unsure of his own words, as he resisted the urge to stare at the subject in question once again.

Kenshin looked on at his two would-be disciples, staring into each of their eyes in turn, wishing nothing but to reassure them that Cronos meant no harm. The fact was though, he wasn't entirely sure himself. "I know, but you have to trust in me on this one, please."

Both Sanosuke and Yahiko replied with a deep gaze into Kenshin's rigid yet supple face, and both nodded soon after, resolve firm in their eyes. As Kenshin walked past them, they could feel a slight yet altogether icy cold wind chill its way through their clothes and burn upward along their legs. Both shivered, yet said or did nothing, merely watching as the three men walked out of the dojo's doors, and headed off towards the clouds that hung in the sky.

Neither said a word; just let their hearts and minds make sure they realized just what was happening. Try as they might though, they found it a difficult task, and they mutually kept a vigil silence until Kenshin was far beyond their line of sight. Then, the silence was broken, "I'm not too sure Sano, but I don't even think Kenshin knows what he's doing right now."

"I know Yahiko, I don't think so either."

The burning rays of the sun were soon blocked out by the encroaching hordes of dark clouds, as rain began to pour out from them, drenching everything underneath. The wind pushed them forwards, into Tokyo, and towards a small dojo, where there rested a woman even smaller in body, but much larger in heart. There Kaoru stirred uneasily in her sleep, hunger picking its way into her dreams, which now seemed like nothing but black visions of nothing. She let out a small gasp, but continued sleeping, two small white lights breaking through the darkness of her dream, and searing their way into her heart. Kaoru tossed and turned, yet she lay deeply immersed in her own, life-like vision. And creeping along her back she felt like there was something she could not describe, yet something she knew she had felt before, like an old ghost brought to life.

Meanwhile, under the very clouds that were inching their way towards Kaoru, the three warriors walked side by side through the now empty streets. The rain didn't fall on them particularly hard as they set out, but with each step the clouds engrossed more of their view, and they began to feel more and more a cool breeze in their hair. None of them spoke either, but both Aoshi and Kenshin had several questions on their mind, and even through the sudden change in weather, they still felt entitled to the answers their host had promised them. However, it wasn't until they'd reached the outskirts of the city did one of them speak. By that time though, the rain was pouring down, beating on them almost to delay their questioning.

"Cronos!" Kenshin shouted, over the pounding rain and now steadily increasing wind. "I think it's time we talked," he added, more sullen, but still loud enough for Cronos to hear.

"Fine then," Cronos answered back, "ask whatever you wish, I'll answer it as well as I can. But we can't stop and lounge around, we don't have the time, we must keep walking as we talk."

"Alright," Kenshin stated, nervously grasping at the handle of his sword, which lay on his side. Up ahead he could see faint patches of blue sky, and the silver lining around the quickly progressing clouds. "Just who are you, and where are you from?"

Cronos resisted the urge to chuckle, finding some humour in the question where Kenshin and Aoshi found none. He responded quickly, his voice carefree, "I already told you, I'm Cronos, and I came from where we're going, the mountains. I was raised there. If you mean what nationality I am, it's American, though I only have one memory of any sort of American-like life."

The response satisfied Kenshin, so he moved on, "What are you doing here then? Why are you so interested in Aoshi and I, and just how did you know about that dream."

"Whoa," Cronos replied, ringing his voice high like that of a rider on a horse, "one question at a time, please." He paused for a second, as Aoshi gave the man a contempt glance, yet continued walking on. "I can answer you're first two together though." He breathed deeply, and then spoke with as much clarity as he could while working his voice at a steadily quickening pace. "I came to Tokyo to recruit you two into a battle for the safety of Japan. Much like the government did with you a couple months ago Kenshin, I'm placing the future of an entire country in your capable hands."

Kenshin stopped in his tracks, and once Aoshi and Cronos had picked up on it, they also stopped and turned to face him. Though the rain clouded their vision, almost to the point where they couldn't make out his figure, they did manage to ask, "What?"

"I just told Sanosuke, Yahiko, and," he paused, dimming his eyes slightly, "Kaoru," he halted again, "that I wouldn't be going to fight anyone this time, and that I'd be back before they knew it." His weak voice quickly strengthened, and he loosed a quick bit of fury at Cronos, "You didn't tell me I was going to have to fight anyone!"

"Call it sin of omission if you wish," Cronos answered back, calmly, "I didn't tell you, you wouldn't be fighting anyone either, I merely stated that I wanted to take you to the mountains."

Kenshin's stare was now solid, resolute: he had no intention of playing into this man's hands, "I'll be no part of this then, I don't want to lie to Kaoru-dono and my friends, and I'll be going back to them if you don't explain yourself right away."

Cronos stared back into Kenshin's eyes, also firm and unyielding, but answered back quietly, "Fine, if you want a history lesson, you'll get one." He set off down the path once again, speaking loudly to make sure Kenshin and Aoshi followed. "I am the inheritor of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito Budo; I am, if you wish, the Defender of the Heavens. My mission, my overall life purpose, is simple." At this he paused, slowing his step, and then shouted over his shoulder, "You coming?" Kenshin and Aoshi quickly rushed to catch up, paying careful attention to each word that spilled itself out from Cronos' mouth.

"As I was saying," he restarted once they were again walking with him in stride, "my goal, as long as I am here, is to protect the nation of Japan from destruction. And, at this current moment, my goal is being very powerfully obstructed."

"What do you mean?" Aoshi asked, slowly so that Cronos would explain what he meant at the same pace.

"My master and I, the disciples of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, are not the only group that was originally assigned the role of protecting Japan, there was, at some time in the past, four groups, each representing a different faction, whose role was to protect Japanese culture and society from destroying itself, or being destroyed by others." He glanced quickly at both men following him before continuing, "However, almost a century ago, there was some small in-fighting between two of the groups, and subsequently, one of the faction's line was ended, leaving three of the groups remaining. Then, a couple years ago, during the Civil War in Kyoto, another of the group's student was killed, and therefore, that line ended not soon after." He stopped for a second, and looked up into the sky, where the clouds were now parting, and the rain falling down came gentler and with less haste. "Follow me so far?"

Aoshi merely nodded, while Kenshin hesitatingly replied, "Yes, I think so."

Cronos nodded and then grinned slightly before going on. "This left two groups to protect Japan, so to speak, mine, the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, and the Honoo no Satsujin, often considered the most powerful of the Samurai group that had existed in Japan."

"If they were so powerful, why have I never heard of you or these Honoo no Satsujin before?" Aoshi asked, rolling his shoulders and throwing the rain off them.

"When the four groups were originally formed, back when the class system was first being introduced in Japan, they were top secret, even to the Shogun or Emperor, and since they have never really been needed since then, they faded out of almost everyone's memory. Himura-san, perhaps you've heard of these groups?"

Kenshin thought about it for a second, as the rustling wind came by and blew the leaves at his feet away, and carried the clouds overhead further behind him. "Yes," he finally murmured, "I believe so. My master, Hiko Seijuro, once mentioned a pair of Samurai whose strength was legendary, and would only arrive when Japan was teetering on the edge of destruction."

"Yes, that would most likely be the two masters of the Honoo no Satsujin… unlike the other three groups, they have made their appearance known on occasion, often murdering several in the process." The last of the clouds had swept overhead, and the path seemed to wind on and on, under the shafts of the sun once again. "Once again now, the Honoo no Satsujin have decided to make their impression felt, this time in a very outright manner."

"How so?" Aoshi questioned, his head lowered in thought.

"They believe that with the new Meiji Era in place, Japan has turned away from its roots, and its survivalist core. They are determined to bring back the class system, the Shogun, and prevent Japan from having any contact with the Western World."

"So you mean they're determined to bring back everything the Imperialists, like Kenshin, fought for during the Civil War? They want to tell us that all those lives that were lost during the war were for naught?" Aoshi asked again.

"Yes," he replied flatly, "and in doing so, they want to cost even more lives. Their plan, much like Makato Shisiho's was, is to burn down the major cities of Japan, and start anew, with a group of old nationalists as the main army, who would step up and make the new government in the destruction of the cities."

"But if this group is so small and elite, even with those old nationalists, they won't be anywhere near strong enough to topple the government, and set fire to the nation." Kenshin replied.

Cronos took in a deep breath, his forehead was wrinkled in thought, and he struggled to find the words to explain, "True, their numbers are small, but there are, or rather were, 12 of these Honoo no Satsujin, and their swords are more than powerful enough to topple a nation. Even just one of them, with the drive and the vision, could easily set fire to Tokyo and Kyoto before being stopped."

Cronos turned his waist to look at Kenshin, and then asked, "You thought it amazing how Shishio was able to command the fire around him, and create it out of the blade of his sword, correct?" Kenshin nodded, vaguely recalling how Shishio had used his hidden techniques to create sparks and fires, and how his warrior's spirit and ignited the flaming towers all around their battleground. "Well these Honoo no Satsujin are a thousand times more powerful. With only a thought, they can set their swords, clothes, even their own skin ablaze, and not feel a thing." Cronos voice fell deeper, as he spoke, "I've seen them hurl balls of fire out of their hands, and even create fire out of thin air. Their techniques are some of the most deadly you can imagine, and then some. Even the least powerful of them, a young teen named Hephaestus, can control and bend the will of the flames better than Makato Shishio ever could."

Kenshin looked long and hard at Cronos, trying to see if he could pick up on some trickery or deceit, yet finding none. As far as he could tell, Cronos was telling the truth, as impossible as that sounded. Aoshi merely walked beside Kenshin, his face worn, and his jaw clenched. Cronos turned, and looked out on the path, which was steadily heading into the foothills, the wind blew on their faces, and his visage quickly set itself rigid. His pace slowed, and then altogether stopped. Kenshin and Aoshi quickly did the same, and looked back, wondering, "What is it Cronos?"

He didn't speak for several seconds, instead merely glancing into the surrounding green, before replying, "They're here." His hand slowly inched its way to the hilt of his sword. His vision scanned the thin layer of bush, and deep pockets of wood that were on their right, while the wind blew at his back, carrying the scent of the thin valley's to their left. Kenshin and Aoshi both quickly tensed up, and regrouped next to Cronos, also straining their senses to pick up on any would-be attackers. Slowly though, a sound came from the road ahead, the sound of two soft footsteps falling, one after the other. Cronos turned to face whatever was coming, and then quickly smiled before whispering to his two followers, "What do you know, the man himself."

Out from the curve in the path walked a small boy, clothed in deep blue and purple, and possessing a katana at his side. He walked with his head down, but his shoulders were wide, and his black hair bounced with each step. When he came to stop just in front of the trio, he raised his head, revealing his youthful face and scarlet eyes. "Hello, Cronos-san."

* * *

In the mere day and a half that Cronos had known Zeus, he had begun to see several things within the old man that he had not noticed when they had first spoken.

Zeus, he had decided, wasn't just old; he was ancient. His hair was an almost transparent white colour, yet long enough to reach the man's back, and was wild and untamed, like his warrior's spirit. His eyes, while not always the blinding white they had been the day before, were often narrow and keen, expecting anything at any time, and prepared to deal with whatever came his way. His face was thin and weathered, but held a quiet dignity all its own, his high cheeks and bridged nose giving him a distinguished aura.

More than this though, Cronos had begun to sense something else from Zeus, something he had never felt in a single human being before. It was almost as if the old man had seen the world, and experienced everything it had to offer, almost like his forlorn vision and vast memory knew absolutely everything, a bank of information just waiting to be cracked open. And if Zeus was willing to speak, Cronos had since decided, he was more than willing to listen.

"Today, your first day of training," Zeus began, looking straight at the thin and slender boy before him, "is quite simple, yet very, very important." He smiled slightly, and reassured Cronos, "And don't worry, you'll be able to do it even in your somewhat injured state." Cronos painfully remembered the bandages that were still wrapped around most of his body, hidden under his ragged clothes. "Today, you learn how to hold your sword."

Cronos shot an almost mystified look, not quite sure if Zeus was merely kidding with him, or serious beyond all recognition. The white-haired man just grinned back for a time before answering his pupil's stare, "Pull out your sword for me, will you Cronos?" The boy slowly extracted the training sword Zeus had given him as he'd woken up, and then held it in front of him with both hands, his legs at shoulder-width apart, and the blade pointed straight up towards the clear, early, and darkened sky.

"Alright," Zeus said, pulling out his own sword before speaking, "now, you have to ask yourself, does how you're holding it right now feel comfortable?"

Cronos considered it a second before questioning, "What do you mean? Comfortable in what way?"

Zeus smiled widely, the innocence and bewilderment in Cronos' voice quickly getting to him, "I mean comfortable. You know, does it feel smooth in your hands, can your body totally relax, and can you move the sword in almost any direction from where you have it?"

Again, Cronos thought for a moment, burrowing his thin red eyebrows in contemplation, then answered, "Not really." He replied, "I mean, my back feels kinda strained, and my wrists don't feel that good."

"Ok, then try another stance. Once you've found one that feels just right, you'll have found your all-purpose stance for the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito."

"But, but don't sword style's have set stances?"

Zeus' smile widened even farther, "Yes, most do, but not the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito. You see, this style of swordsmanship is unlike any other in the nation, in the world. The Tengoku o Mamoru Hito flows, like the wind, conforming to everything, and everyone, it meets. No two attacks are alike for two different users of the style, and neither are two stances. For this style of swordsmanship, you must find the way to use a sword for yourself, with the air as your guide."

Cronos stood, studying his master's words, thinking each of them over so he could begin to understand just what they meant. "Ok," he replied.

"Good, now try it again." Cronos began to move the sword around, shifting its position, when Zeus stopped him, "No, you have to bring it from your scabbard every time you wish to try a new stance. This will make it easier for you to draw your sword quickly when you have to use the stance."

Cronos nodded before setting the sword back in it's sheathe and then quickly drawing it out again, this time in a different position. Again though, he didn't feel entirely comfortable, and put it back to try it again. He continued to do so for several minutes, when Zeus suddenly went back inside their home, and shouted over his shoulder, "Call me when you've found it, or when you get hungry, whichever comes first."

Over and over again, Cronos slid his sword out, and tried holding it in whatever position he could think of. After half an hour though, he had tried everything his little mind could conceive, and he quickly became frustrated. He began to curse the sword in his hands, which was now giving him two tired arms, and shoulders even more weary. Still, he tried again and again, till he realized he would have to change the position of his legs as well as his arm. He set off to try each position again, this time with his feet in different stances. Each time though, he found something or other was lacking, some minor detail that annoyed him to no end. As he grew more and more frustrated, the smell of food cooking in the house wafted out to him, teasing his rumbling stomach and aching arms.

Finally, when the sun had drifted up to be far above the edge of the plateau they resided on, Cronos gave up, and put his sword back in it's sheathe, then headed inside, his stomach giving him a dull pain in his side. He was worried that Zeus would be disappointed in him coming in so early, but when he walked in slowly, his head down, Zeus greeted him warmly. "How does it go? Are you hungry?" The sensei pointed Cronos to the table, where steaming rice and well-cut fish awaited him. The sight was more than enough for Cronos weak stomach, which rumbled an assuring sign, urging him to go on.

"Yes, very." Cronos replied, ignoring the first question, before shoving himself down on a seat and beginning to eat. Zeus quickly joined him, and started eating as well. The food was delicious, far better than anything Cronos had had with Yolanda, or her family. He ate it too quickly for his own good, but he was anxious to get out and practice again. Once he had finished, he found Zeus had also eaten his share and was clearing the utensils. "I'll be getting back to it now," Cronos added quickly, before rushing outside.

After finding a cool place under the shade of some tall brush, he set off again, trying to find the stance that was all his own. The next attempts came to the same success as the previous ones had, and he quickly grew agitated yet again. Just as the sun reached its peak overhead, he was seriously considering giving up.

Before he could get extremely angry though, Zeus came outside, and offered some words of encouragement, "Don't worry, it'll come, just keep practicing, you'll find it soon enough!" He shouted across the field, where Cronos merely nodded and shook his arms, loosening them, before again preparing to draw his weapon.

The trial and error process continued on all day, until the sun was setting behind the mountains, and the thinnest scent of supper was beginning to make its way from the shack of a house. The wind had been getting increasingly stronger, almost chilling the young boy; despite the fact he was now sweating intensely and cursing himself as loud as he dared. The wind seemed to urge him on though, almost counteracting his fatigue with its cold blasts. Finally though, his upper body grew too tired to go on, and he put his sword away, laying it at his side before sitting down in the grass. He breathed deeply, fighting back the urge to merely give up

He quickly realized he had grown frustrated with his lack of progress, even on his very first day. He replayed Zeus' words over and over again in his mind, but he could find nothing that would give him an easy way out. If this was his first test, he deemed, he had failed.

His head dropped, and even the wind shoving its way through the rustling grass was not enough to push him onward. His period of self-pity didn't last long however.

"Cronos!" A loud, powerful voice shouted from the direction of the house. Zeus stood there, all signs of the nicety and friendliness that had exhibited from his voice gone, replaced by the features that made him the man who had killed Yolanda's husband just a few days ago. Cronos' head shot up, and he quickly, yet shakily, got to his feet, before nodding back to his sensei. Zeus' eyes suddenly widened, and he drew out his sword, "Defend yourself," he ordered, his voice leaving nothing to complaint.

Almost instantly, the old sensei began to run, seemingly at full speed, towards Cronos, who merely replied with a confused gaze. "What?" He asked, his voice dry. Zeus gave but one answer, the raising of his sword, pointed directly at Cronos head, and the increasing of his already god-like speed.

Cronos took a few hesitant steps back, suddenly both confused and terrified of this man who was to be his teacher. He gripped the hilt of his sword in his hand, but wasn't certain whether to draw it. Any doubts or thoughts of worry were quickly eradicated though, as Zeus closed his eyes. For one, fleetingly painful moment, they remained closed, and then shot open; the white light of the day before pouring out of them, shining into Cronos' heart, and igniting him to act.

The scared little boy uttered a frightened cry, flexing his tiny muscles and using them to pull his sword from its place at his side. He shot it in front of him, grasping onto the handle with both hands, his arms almost fully extended, and his left leg slightly ahead of the right, both knees bent and ready to move him in any direction. As he drew his weapon out though, his eyes involuntarily shut closed, and his entire body began to tremble, as he contemplated whether or not Zeus had merely lured him into this place to kill him.

He stood there, shivering, the wind now roaring in his ears, awaiting his imminent death. For several seconds he stood like that, his breath locked in his lungs, unwilling to come out, and his eyes locked in their clogged state. Finally, when he realized he wasn't dead, Zeus playful and almost laughing voice spoke, "Cronos, you can open your eyes. In fact, I think you'll need to."

Cronos swallowed slowly, before gathering up the will to rip one eyelid from it's sheltered position, and look upon Zeus standing before him, holding in his laughter with all his might. The redheaded boy quickly opened his other eye as well, and opened his mouth, releasing his breath, but kept his sword out in front of him, his arms not entirely willing to drop it just yet. Zeus looked about ready to crack up, and Cronos questioned him with as strong of a voice as he could manage, "What…what's so funny?"

Zeus merely responded by breaking out in a fit of laughter, nothing but raucous and merry amusement escaping his lips. Cronos pushed down the urge to shout at his master, and merely asked again, "Well, what is it? What's so funny?" Zeus didn't reply, again, but did manage to slow down, then stop, his laughing. Finally, when he had managed to calm himself down, he wiped away a tear from the corner of his now normal eye, and then smiled at his student.

"Look at yourself Cronos," he said, gazing up and down his student, almost measuring him, "look how you hold your sword." Cronos deliberated for a couple of seconds before he returned a strange look to his master. "Well, look! Do you feel comfortable like that? Can you feel the sword; almost feel like it is at peace in that pose?"

Cronos thought for a couple seconds more, mulling over his posture, trying to find some sort of flaw in how it made him feel, yet finding none. "Yes," he slowly replied, "it's something like that, almost as if the sword chose me to hold it like this."

"Then you've found it, haven't you?" Zeus asked, his tone still joyful, but now almost… friendly.

"Ye…yes, I guess this is my stance." Cronos replied, a warm feeling suddenly rising in his chest, this seemingly major accomplishment, and the admiration of his peer giving him a sensation he had never experienced before in his life. "Thank you, Sensei, for showing me this."

Zeus merely nodded, then turned on his heel and announced over his shoulder, "Come on inside, we have supper to eat, then we can talk more about tomorrow's training." The burly yet swift man headed into the house, as Cronos felt the weight of the sword in his hands for a couple more seconds before putting the weapon away in his sheathe, and then heading inside as well.

After another fine meal, Cronos found himself dead tired, and he quickly resigned himself to sleep on the bed Zeus had made for him during the course of the day. There though, he lay awake for several hours, till long after Zeus had drifted off into the land of dreams. Cronos tossed and turned in his bed, yet felt like something was wrong. Finally he got up and headed outside, picking up his sword on the way out.

He closed the house's door behind him, and then stared off into the night sky. The stars were twinkling gently, and the air was calm and serene all around him. He breathed deeply, the refreshing scent of young flowers from the foothills below drafting their way upward, and all around him. He pulled out his sword, and found it remarkably light, almost as though it was a different blade entirely. He quickly found out it was.

The edge of the blade he held in his hand was extremely sharp, almost razor-like, and it gleamed much brighter than the sword he had been using all day before. He realized he had mistakenly grabbed the sword Zeus had taken from his former owner, and then given back to Cronos. Though he knew little of swords, he did recognize that everything about the sword was of miraculous craftsmanship. The metal seemed harder than his other sword, but was almost weightless in comparison. The hilt was made of some sort of strange alloy, which seemed to absorb water, useful if the swordsman's palms were sweating no doubt. Cronos quickly marvelled at the way in which the air seemed to slice to the bidding of the cutting edge, and he had no doubt that an opponent's skin would also do the same.

A sudden gleam come from Cronos side, and he looked downwards to find that the sheathe of the sword was also glinting under the moonless skylights. He held up the case in his hand, and saw that under the stars light, it shown a deep purple, which caught Cronos as strange, since he vaguely remembered that under the reflection of the fire he had been pushed into by Baitou, the scabbard had seemed a pale yellow, like the ends of the flames he sat in.

Looking over the sheathe again and again, he saw that black letters were imprinted on it, English in origin. He had no idea what they were, but they seemed to spell out a word, horizontally from the top to the bottom of the sheathe. He picked out the top letter as an "R", but he couldn't tell the rest of them apart, as he had had little education in American even when he was living with his own people.

Mystified, he put the sword back in its hold, and then headed back inside to go to sleep. The next day, he held the sword under the sunlight, and found that the blade's wrap held a normal black colour. He wondered if the lack of sleep had been playing tricks on his eyes, but somehow he doubted that theory very much.

* * *

"Hephaestus-chan, how nice to finally see you again," Cronos said, his tone still jubilant, but his hand prepared to draw his sword at any time.

Though the small boy in front of Cronos was obviously ticked at the "chan", he replied gracefully, "Same to you, Cronos-san, hopefully though, I won't have to look at you very much longer." The boy pulled his hands out of his gi, and lowered them near his side, next to the sword that hung there.

"The gates to hell wait for both of us, I suppose," Cronos answered back, shifting to a stance where he could easily draw his weapon, if need be. Kenshin and Aoshi slowly backed away, not afraid of this young boy, but somewhat disturbed in the way he and Cronos talked.

"But some of us are going to reach those gates sooner than others," Hephaestus replied, smiling, his hands quickly latching onto the hilt of the sword. He withdrew it slowly and held it in front of him, looking towards Cronos and smiling slyly. The redheaded guide quickly followed suit, pulling out his sword, and the two stood in front of one another, grinning with an almost insane sort of pleasure. A tiny flutter of wind shuddered at their legs, and then they were off.

Hephaestus brought his left hand up to the middle of his sword, and then quickly brushed the two together. Almost instantly a line of flame shot out from where the hand and metal had met, which quickly grew in size until it created a ring that covered Hephaestus' entire torso. The younger boy's smile grew, and he shouted out in a defiant yell, "Beat that, you fool!"

Cronos didn't even respond with a witty reply, he merely acted. Almost instantly he lowered himself to the ground, and then shot along the surface of dirt, straight towards Hephaestus' legs, and below the ring of fire. He moved much quicker than Aoshi or Kenshin, or even Hephaestus, had anticipated, and almost before the circlet of flaming air had been created, Cronos was past it, and headed with his sword directly at his opponent's legs. The young boy caught a quick glimpse of Cronos advancing before the red-haired man struck, and narrowly hopped off to the side, avoiding the quick swipe of the sword Cronos sent in his direction.

Once Cronos had regained his full height, he turned to face Hephaestus, and the two again smiled, though this time neither of them said a word. The black-haired boy lowered into a deep defensive stance, and Cronos merely faulted into the all-purpose posture he had perfected nearly ten years before. Kenshin and Aoshi were merely left to watch, take their positions as spectators to the match before them. Both, needless to say, were content to do so.

Before either could release even the faintest breath, Cronos advanced again, attempting to strike Hephaestus with a downward stroke. The young man again shot away, this time down the path. Cronos fired himself after his target, and again tried to nail the boy with his sword, but once more Hephaestus dodged, and headed further down the path. Over and over again, the two played the elusive game of cat and mouse. Cronos gradually began increasing the tempo, to a point where Hephaestus was no longer smiling with each attack, but sweating vigorously. Further and further the two distanced themselves from Kenshin and Aoshi, who merely regarded with silent awe at the two fighters. Though Aoshi made no comment, Kenshin silently noted to himself that by the time they were distant figures in the sunlight, Cronos speed was incredible, reaching even Kenshin's own god-speed level, and yet the man never broke his smile, or even seemed to be pushing himself at all. This didn't particularly worry Kenshin at that moment in time, but he began to wonder just what level of speed Cronos was capable of attaining. He put the worry at the back of his mind.

The two combatants continued pushing on with seemingly limitless energy. At this time though, Hephaestus was no longer dodging and sidestepping Cronos' attacks, he was fleeing them for his very life. His back was now turned to the attacking warrior, and he was obviously going his absolute top speed just to stay the slightest inch ahead. Cronos was unrelenting though, and as they neared a bend in the road, he shouted out, "Come back here, you idiot, I haven't finished educating you yet." The boy didn't listen though, and he merely carried on, through the turn in the road. Cronos followed, hiding both of them behind the small forest that rested in between Kenshin and Aoshi's viewpoint. By this time, they were either wondering if they should go to help, or merely wait for Cronos' imminent return; without a word, they both agreed on the latter.

It wasn't long after Cronos and Hephaestus had disappeared beyond the horizon, however, that the young boy's true reason for attacking was revealed. To Aoshi and Kenshin's credit, they managed to pick up on their two would-be assassins, before they had completely reached their target.

Several snickers could suddenly be heard behind the pair who stood in the middle of the strange road, and both almost instantly turned around to face the source of the chuckling. Unannounced to them, two men, both dressed very much like Hephaestus in the blues and reds, though in darker shades, stood behind them, each holding a weapon, and both putting very much effort into not laughing out loud. Almost instantly Kenshin dropped downwards into a battou-jutsu stance, and his eyes narrowed to almost half their normal size, as he regarded the two men standing before him. Aoshi likewise fell into a fighting stance, though he had no weapon to defend himself.

Still, the two men continued to chuckle under their breath, until finally one of them let loose, and began laughing aloud. "Are you serious? These are the two guys we're supposed to kill," the one on the right, who had stopped laughing said, "they don't look like they could hurt a fly!"

Promptly after the first's announcement, the second also began laughing uncontrollably, and nodding up and down in agreement. He even wiped a small tear away from his eye. "Ah well, I guess it just means it'll be easy then. I still don't get why Apollo-sama and Artemis-sama want these guys dead so badly, how could they even touch either of them?"

"Who cares," replied the other, his smile quickly evaporating, as he pulled up his staff which he held at both ends, "let's just get it over with."

Kenshin decided he wasn't about to just let these guys attack him without at least trying to talk some sense into them, so he made an attempt to reason, "What do you want?" He almost shouted, his voice inexplicably high.

The one who had remained laughing answered this time, "What every man wants, don't you think?"

"Shut up," cut in the previous one, "don't waste your time talking to him, let's just axe him and then get on our way. If Cerberus is right, he won't even be able to do a thing."

At this, both men revealed their weapons. The one who had just finished speaking (who seemed to be in command, as he was slightly older) lightly pulled on both ends of the wooden shaft he held in his hands, revealing two sparkling blades; short swords very much like the ones Aoshi had used against Kenshin, only they were slightly thicker, and reflected the light of the sun directly forward, almost as if the reflection alone was a weapon. The other one revealed several daggers residing in his hands, almost exactly like Misao was known for using, only slightly thinner, and also reflecting the sun very powerfully. It would've seemed almost humorous to Kenshin that the two decided to assault Aoshi with the very weapons he used himself, if it were not for the seeming seriousness with which these two men progressed.

"Please, leave us be, and no one will get hurt," Kenshin answered back, as both of the two men moved forward, their eyes keen and focused, obviously not meaning to listen to any pleas their targets may make. Even so, Kenshin felt that he shouldn't force his Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu upon these two arrogant souls unless it was absolutely necessary. Hence, he gave one last appeal for reason, "I don't wish to do harm to either of you. There's no need for this."

Whether it was because of the tone of Kenshin's voice, or perhaps something else inside one of the two attackers, the younger one, which brandished the dagger-like knives, slowed in his advance, and reared up, speaking to his associate, "Hey Hyperion, you can take them. This red-haired guy is the only one with a weapon, and he doesn't look that tough. I don't feel like breaking a sweat today."

The other man also stopped in his path, and turned to face his comrade, almost oblivious to the fact that Kenshin was completely prepared to unleash his ultra-quick battou-jutsu. "Hades, you always were lazy, but this is just bad. This is a real fight, something we've never had before. Don't screw it up by not even participating."

Kenshin began to wonder if these two were more brothers than warriors, but he didn't let his thoughts cloud his judgement. He saw an opening, and he pounced. Almost instantly, he fired from his position, mere feet away from the two attackers and fired out his sword with a battou-jutsu, aimed directly at the short-sworded man, Hyperion. The other man, Hades, didn't even have a chance to open his mouth before Kenshin was upon Hyperion, and almost quicker than either of them could breathe, Kenshin's blade was at the man's chest. The strange thing was, however, so was one of Hyperion's short swords.

Aoshi looked onward, seeing that Kenshin had used almost his quickest movement, yet this other man, not even looking in Kenshin's direction, had managed to block the attack. Besides the somewhat quiet clang of metal upon metal, there was nothing but the fluttering birds wings above their heads, and the eerie stillness of un-expectancy. Kenshin stood in his attack stance, eyes wide, looking at his blocked weapon, obviously amazed. Hyperion let out a light sigh, then turned his neck, almost at an inhuman angle, and stared deeply into Kenshin's expanded eyes. "And just what, may I ask, was that?"

With a slight push, Hyperion shoved Kenshin's sword away from his body, and turned to face the former Battousai. "Fine, Hades, don't worry about it. This one obviously is quite eager to meet his maker." He then pulled up both of his swords, and looked towards Kenshin with eyes boiling. "Don't you?"

Kenshin merely stood there, his sword barely in front of him, protecting himself. He looked stunned, and Aoshi quietly urged him to regain his composure, or else these two would make short work of both of them. Before he could make his silent words come aloud though, Hyperion struck. He fired forward, from the leisurely walking speed he had held, at speeds impossible to witness, speeds Kenshin himself had only seen once before, Shuku-Chi speeds. In a flash, Hyperion had stretched himself under Kenshin's watchful blade, and slashed the cross-scared warrior in the thigh. Kenshin let out a surprised and painful yelp as blood shot out from his leg, which crumpled underneath him and caused him to fall to the floor. "Kenshin!" Aoshi anxiously exasperated, as the Battousai fell.

Hyperion reappeared behind the collapsed Kenshin, standing over him with one bloody sword-edge, and a smile as lustrous as the glint the sun gave his weapon. "This," he began, again almost chuckling, "this is the legendary Hitokiri Battousai, who doesn't kill anymore? How could this have possibly defeated Makato Shishio?"

Hades and Hyperion both began laughing, and Kenshin seemed almost permanently rooted in the floor. Aoshi quickly realized just how badly he needed a weapon. He had quickly fallen into a sad state of despair over his foolishness during the Kyoto incident, and had vowed never to use a weapon again. While he didn't intend to back down on his word, he didn't aim to merely leave Kenshin to be attacked by this man again, without a hope of defence. He clenched his fists, and began to wonder just what he could possibly do, in the face of someone who had so easily downed Himura Kenshin.

The laughing of the two continued, as if they enjoyed watching their prey suffer so, yet still Kenshin made no movement on the ground, except the drooping of his head on the floor. "Hitokiri Battousai my ass!" They both shouted aloud, before more grating laughter. Aoshi's anger quickly overwhelmed his fears, and he clutched his fists together, determining that he wouldn't let these two men so easily beat Kenshin and himself. He planted his legs for a split second, and then ran full speed at Hyperion, who had his back still turned to the Oniwabanshu leader. The two black-haired men crashed into each other, but one, Aoshi, merely bounced off the other. As Aoshi quickly plummeted to the ground, he recalled the feeling of running into a brick wall.

Hyperion merely continued laughing, as he quickly turned and stared down at Aoshi, who rubbed his head gently, trying to make out what had just happened. "That the best you can do?" He asked, almost sincerely. Aoshi looked up, into Hyperion's face, and vaguely, out of the corner of his eye, caught something moving along the ground.

"Hyperion look out!" Hades shouted, just long enough for the other member of the Honoo no Satsujin to turn around, and receive a blow from Kenshin's sakaba sword directly in his mouth.

Kenshin fell to the floor gracefully as Hyperion reeled about in pain, and let out a short groan as he brought his hands up to his face, almost cutting himself with his swords, and cupped them around his mouth, to halt the blood. Kenshin rose up from the floor, as Aoshi looked on, stunned, and turned around to face the two attackers.

"Hitokiri Battousai?" Kenshin's voice was suddenly deep and sinister, and his eyes, had… changed, somehow. No longer were they merely narrow blue orbs, they were now shining, a bright gold colour like that of the sun, and they gave no hint of fear or pain; instead, they knew only death and hatred. "If you wanted to face the Hitokiri Battousai, you will."

Hyperion retreated slightly, turning around to face Kenshin, before lowering his hands and announcing, "Ah, he comes back from the dead does he?" He then spat out some blood and brandished his two swords again, "Come then, Battousai, and fight me."

Aoshi looked back to Kenshin, to find those golden eyes peering at Hyperion with a deadly stare. He's different now, Aoshi thought, he's not like the Kenshin who I fought. He's changed.

The two squared off opponents charged each other, and began to fight at full force. Despite Hyperion's earlier advance, he seemed incapable of using Shuku-Chi again, and his and Kenshin's speeds were almost even, if not slightly in Kenshin's favour. As Aoshi and Hades looked on, the two locked horns, all their weapons moving at speeds almost impossible to recollect. The battle went on and on, as a strange scent in the air suddenly became apparent to Aoshi, a scent he had already smelt that day, a very strange odour he could not distinguish. The wind pushed this stench-ridden air onwards, down the path, and around the curve, where Cronos and Hephaestus were still doing combat.

By this time though, Cronos had severely worn his opponent down, and the younger boy was left to merely defend, as flight was now impossible. The black-haired boy was managing to hold his own against the much faster and more powerful Cronos, but even so, he knew he could not last much longer. He only hoped Cerberus' plan had worked, and Hades and Hyperion had already disposed of the Battousai and Aoshi.

Hephaestus quickly became desperate and was prepared to yield, when he tried one last trick he had learnt only days before. He created a moment of separation between Cronos and he, and then ran his hand along the sharp edge of his sword. Luckily, the friction between the two was enough, and his sword was soon lit aflame. He let out a yell of accomplishment, and then shot towards Cronos, sword extended towards his target's head.

Unluckily, Cronos easily pivoted and knocked Hephaestus away, into a pile of shrub near the border of the road. The boy, now badly bruised, in both ego and body, gave up at this point in time, and merely prayed he had given Hades and Hyperion the time necessary to kill Battousai.

As Cronos walked over to Hephaestus, sensing victory, Kenshin and Hyperion were reaching the end of their battle, and Kenshin was the obvious victor. Despite a few scrapes and gashes, and the main hit he had taken on his thigh, Kenshin's superior speed had proven too powerful, as he was in far better condition than his opponent, who was badly bruised and had a few broken bones all over the place. The entire time, Hyperion was cursing Kenshin, and was obviously putting his best efforts in to beat the wayward Rurouni, with little success. Deciding to end the fight, Kenshin hit Hyperion in the knees, sending him to the ground, and then jumped above him, as the wind swirled about, and shouted out, "Ryu Tsui Sen!" Before he could deliver the finishing blow though, Hyperion was suddenly whisked away by a blurry motion of dark clothing, and Kenshin's attack collided against nothing but dirt.

As Kenshin stood up from the ground, his eyes still very trance-like, and his weapon still at the ready, Hades set his injured comrade on the ground, "I think we may have underestimated him this time Hyperion." He then stood up to his full height, and turned to face Kenshin. "You were lucky up to this point, Battousai, but now you won't even get the chance to use that speed of yours. You, my friend, are going to die, very quickly."

Kenshin said nothing in response, merely raising his sword and fixating on Hades, awaiting the first move. That move came quickly enough for both parties, as almost without a moment of hesitation, Hades brought up his hand and flung it open. Kenshin, expecting a dagger to fly forth, instead saw nothing but open palm. Whatever strange tactic this was, Kenshin deemed he wouldn't wait for it to take effect. Just as he was about to sprint forth and knock out Hades, the very air in front of him literally exploded.

A sudden mass of flames shot in all directions directly in front of Kenshin's chest, and the resulting concussion sent him hurling forcefully to the ground. Aoshi shouted out in amazement, "What!?" As he wondered just how the Honoo no Satsujin had managed to inexplicably create a small explosion where Kenshin had been standing. He was about to rush to Kenshin's side, but the red-haired man slowly pushed himself to his feet, his eyes even narrower and more intent on Hades as he rose from the ground. His hand was held up to prevent Aoshi from interfering, and it became apparent he wanted to deal with this one on his own, again.

Hades allowed the older warrior the time to rise to his full height, and smiled as the Battousai raised his sakaba sword, the reverse-blade glinting under the sun. "Come," Kenshin whispered, deeply, trying to incite his rival into an unwarranted action. Instead of charging Kenshin though, Hades merely extended the long, pale fingers on each of his hands, and then flicked them upwards, as if they were contracting spastically. Kenshin's acute hearing picked up the sound like the slicing of a sharp object through the air, but even he didn't have time to react to it before two long streams of fire erupted their way from Hades' palms, and curled their way through the air, curving and turning as if they were merely gusts of wind travelling about. The two beams speed was almost god-like, and before Kenshin could anticipate when they would turn in his direction, they were upon him. Just as they reached him, they both exploded, as though they were merely fuses whose ends were connected to dynamite. Kenshin was again hurled to the ground, and this time almost his entire gi was ripped to shreds from the blast, his grip on his weapon nearly entirely lost.

"Kenshin!" Aoshi shouted out again, determined to help his friend, even though the help didn't seem entirely wanted. Again he rushed forward, but this time he was stopped by another force, that being yet another explosion, this time occurring just a little ways to his right. The shock nearly knocked him off his feet, but he managed to hold onto his ground. He turned to face Hades, who was laughing hysterically at his two opponents, both of whom seemed mystified by his technique.

"Come on, you can help him little man, just keep trying!" Hades words were choked with laughter, and Aoshi wanted nothing more than to wipe the happy and easy-going look off the man's face. Still, until he could determine just how Hades was creating these streams of fire and massive explosions, he was hesitant to mount any sort of offensive. He clamped his hands into fists, and took a menacing step forward. Hades merely continued to laugh.

"No, Aoshi-san," a weak and mingled voice said from below Aoshi, as Kenshin again struggled up from the ground, and used his sword to hoist himself up. "Don't bother. I have this guy all figured out." Kenshin's eyes, still a golden shade, were fixated on Hades, and even as he spoke to Aoshi, his handle on his sword tightened, and almost every muscle in his body flexed itself, as his concentration reached its max. "He won't be a problem for much longer."

Hades' laughing ceased, as he regarded Kenshin strangely, "You honestly believe that, don't you Battousai?" He then chuckled one final time, before dropping down into his fighting stance, "Too bad you will never understand my technique." Kenshin merely sheathed his sword at his side, and crouched down low, his eyes intent on Hades' hands, both of which were again curling and uncurling. The two faced off, as Aoshi backed away, offset by the seriousness and calamity in Kenshin's voice, and eyes. If there was one thing he had learnt from the master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, it was trust.

As those two were facing off though, Cronos was merely interrogating Hephaestus, down the bend in the dirt road. After knocking the boy into the bush, and subsequently pulling him out, Cronos had been questioning the young man as to his impromptu ambush in the road. "Well, what was the point in it? You knew you were no match for me, or even for the Battousai, so why did you attack at all?"

Hephaestus, his eye black and his jaw somewhat sliced open, merely faced Cronos and then spat on the older man's face. Cronos shot back a disgusted look, before hurling the young man to the ground and wiping the drip of saliva from his face. "Screw you," Hephaestus said stubbornly from the ground, "I don't have to tell you jack shit."

Cronos, rather than fighting back with a verbal quip, picked up the sword he'd made Hephaestus drop, and then stalked over to the boy, his demeanour leaving nothing to the imagination. Hephaestus stared, wide-eyed, at the shimmering blade, and began to back up along the ground, his mouth hung open. Is he really willing to just kill me, for that? I've done worse to him, and he's never seemed this pissed off. "Ugh… Cronos, think about what you're doing here," he stammered, his throat barely forcing the words out, as the red-haired man came closer and closer with each step. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, but I do," came the reply, as Cronos lifted the blade up and then pointed it downwards, as he came nearer and nearer to the younger boy. "I have to." He came to a stop just over Hephaestus' frightened form, and his eyes were alive with a near tangible form of pleasure, as though they enjoyed seeing the fear well up within Hephaestus' shaking form. "Tell me, or I'll have to."

Hephaestus, trembling, scared beyond all account, looked first at the sword in Cronos' hands, and then into those hideously animated eyes. He thought for perhaps a second, calculating the time he had used, and wondering if Hades and Hyperion had completed their task. He considered lying for a moment, but Cronos continued to rear downwards, and he thought better of it, deciding that if they hadn't finished the two others by then, they wouldn't have been able to at all. "A decoy." He said, quietly, trying to stall for every second he could.

"What?" Cronos asked, powerfully, as he lowered the sword even further, to where it was only a foot away from Hephaestus' torso.

"A decoy!" The boy shouted back, fearful of the blade inching its way nearer and nearer to his heart. "I led you away so Hades and Hyperion could finish off those other two guys." The boy, hoping to escape Cronos' wrath, went on, "You better get to them quick, or else they might be able to finish them off."

Could the boy be lying, Cronos wondered. He raised his head up and took a quick sniffing of the air. Yes, their smell, it's coming from down there. It's weak, but its there. "Shit!" Cronos screamed, as he flung the sword in his hands away, and sprinted, his absolute fastest, back down the road, to Kenshin's and Aoshi's position. Though Hephaestus merely lowered his head to the ground, gasping for air to recover from his scare, if he had continued to watch Cronos dart away, he would've seen, or rather, not seen, the red-haired man go on at speeds incomparable. There wasn't even a dash on the ground left by his variation of the Shuku-chi, there was merely the rushing wind at his back, and the churning of his legs upon that wind, as the two worked seamlessly together to carry the young man back to his target.

How could I be so stupid? Cronos worried to himself; of course it was just a diversion. Hephaestus is nothing compared to me. How could I let myself be led away like that? He cursed himself several more times, in the mere seconds it took him to come around the large twist in the road and once again come into view of both Aoshi and Kenshin. Sure enough, Hyperion and Hades were there as well, though surprisingly only one of them stood. Hyperion, badly battered and bloody, was left on the ground, as Hades, with his long dark hair and near blood-red face faced off against Kenshin, whose hair covered most of his face from Cronos view. The Tengoku o Mamoru Hito continued on down the path at his invisible speed, determined to interfere and take down Hades, when a thought occurred to him.

He stopped in his tracks, and merely stood on the spot, looking onwards. If Kenshin has survived up to this point, let's see how he does now. He gazed forward, anxious to see how the Battousai would handle this. If he's capable of what Zeus thinks he is, this should be no problem. By now he's no doubt realized that Hades' "flames" are merely wires covered in flammable oil that he can curve to attack from any direction. If he hasn't discovered that yet, then there's no way he can beat Hades.

Everyone: Hyperion, Aoshi, and Cronos, stared at the two fighters, neither of whom gave a hint of backing down. Both supremely confident. A churning shot of wind came at Kenshin's back, and sent his already unruly hair flying forward, covering what little cold be seen of his face. Hades made the first move.

"Die, Battousai!" He shouted, as he let loose a pair of the wires he used as weapons, one from each palm, and directed them towards Kenshin, both lit aflame, and both going against the grain of the wind.

Kenshin screamed a low, piercing battle cry, and pushed forward with as much power as he could muster, seemingly right into the two streams of fire. Just as the two beams were to hit him though, he lowered himself disarmingly close to the ground and let both of them soar over his head. Aoshi let out a sigh of relief, as it seemed there was nothing to stop Kenshin from striking Hades, but Cronos knew better. Almost as soon as they had gone past him, the two fine fibres of invisible metal curved in the air, under Hades' control, and swung back towards Kenshin, using the wind's current to carry them forward with renewed speed. Even as Kenshin neared Hades, the two streams quickly caught up to him, and Cronos feared the worst. Suddenly though, Kenshin shouted out again, only this time his scream formed coherent words, "Ryu Kan Sen-Tsumuji!" Just as the two rivulets of flame were about to pierce their way into his back, he pushed upwards with his body, and left the ground, curving his body into a small circlet in the air much in the way of the wires that pursued him, and fired his way even closer to Hades. The Honoo no Satsujin, nearly flabbergasted at this sudden and impromptu movement, and at the failed attempt to strike the Battousai down, merely stood there as Kenshin unleashed a battou-jutsu as he was coming downwards in his small circle-of-a-manuever. The sakaba sword-blade struck the darkly clothed man in the knees, and sent him flying into the air.

Cronos, not expecting such a drastic and body-wrenching attack, stood in his position, his mouth hung open, as he mouthed the words to himself, "That's… it. He's already there, and that move, that move is… perfect." Though neither Aoshi nor Kenshin would've had any idea what he would've been talking about, he almost instantly cursed himself for letting his words slip out, and then he slowly jogged over to Kenshin and Aoshi, hoping to congratulate them on their victory.

Aoshi, anxious, ran to Kenshin's side, as the legendary Hitokiri merely kneeled on the ground and caught his breath. "Himura-san," he said, a rare showing of joy in his voice, "you did it, you beat them both." Kenshin made no reply, merely watched as Hades landed on the ground, next to Hyperion, his legs both badly injured, and his mouth hung open in silent agony. Kenshin's eyes, now shining a deeper, almost hateful, shade of gold, just stared at Hades' fallen form, and, almost to Kenshin's bewilderment, he smiled. For the first time since the battle had begun, he formed an actual thought, and to his extreme displeasure, it was merely another question to be asked that strange day. Am I really enjoying this? Is this what I am?

"Kenshin," Cronos said, as he walked up to the two men's positions. "That was absolutely brilliant, you'll have to teach me---" Cronos was suddenly cut off in the middle of his sentence, as an unearthly roar came from the small patch of forest in front of Kenshin, near Hyperion and Hades. Suddenly, before anyone could react, a short, bald form came bounding out of the dense brush. "Cerberus!" Cronos shouted, withdrawing his sword in lightning-quick fashion. The man made no reply though, he merely sprung to Hades and Hyperion, snatching a body in each of his massive, clawed hands, and then shooting off into the hills off to the left. Kenshin nearly shot up, but Cronos seemed reluctant to take any action. As the three men escaped, he merely stated, "Let them go, all we had to do today was survive. We'll wait until later to beat them permanently."

Though Kenshin heard and agreed with Cronos' words, something deeper than his mind wanted to go after those three, two of whom he had almost perished fighting. Still, his limbs were tired and his head throbbed, and he resigned to let them go for now, though he was almost sure that he would face them again some time. "Can you get up Kenshin? We have to get going, especially if this little sneak attack of theirs is going to be happening more and more often."

Kenshin nodded, and Aoshi leaned in to help him off the floor. As he was getting up, he glanced sideways, and caught a glimpse of Cronos' sword and sheathe, which seemed to reflect an almost bright pink hue under the mid-morning light of the sun. Regarding it strangely, he stared as he got up, and then noticed that there were also some kanji written on the side of the sheathe, though he could not tell what it said. He deemed them American in nature.

As he finished rising up, his eyes had quickly returned to their normal blue color, and his heart was beating slowly again. He gave a nod to Aoshi to say that he was alright, and then sheathed his sword again. Cronos looked deep into his eyes, and then asked, "Are you alright?" Kenshin nodded, and swallowed deeply, making sure he could feel all the parts of his body. "Ok then, let's try and make it to at least the edge of the mountains before the sun falls."

Just as he was about to leave, Kenshin's voice, weak and tired, spoke up, "Cronos," he began, "what does that writing on your sheathe say?"

Cronos sighed lightly, then turned and looked at Kenshin, his face suddenly entirely serious and careful, "It spells… Rainbow." The boy's face was suddenly pale as could be, and his eyes were looking downward, at the ground. Before Kenshin could ask another question, Cronos said softly, "Let's get going." He turned on his heel and led the two behind him down the path yet again.

"What did he say?" Aoshi questioned, as he had not heard Cronos' answer.

"Rainbow," was Kenshin's quiet reply.

The three of them headed on farther down the road, their pace somewhat slowed, as the faintest hint of a mosaic of colors spread out behind them, arching high into the sky of the rain clouds that had left them, and headed into the city. A rainbow of color.

* * *

"I couldn't find anything like what you asked for!" Okeda shouted angrily at Seru, his hands clenched into tight fists, and his eyes raging with irritation.

"How could you not? There's like eighty different kinds of them, and I said you could get any of them!" Seru shouted back, equally fuming. Her face was directly in front of Okeda's, her eyes were bloodshot, and her nails were broken un-evenly. Had she looked in a mirror, she probably would've been frightened, perhaps even as frightened as the couple's two young children that cowered in the corner of the small living room, wondering why their parents fought so.

"It wasn't there, ALRIGHT!" His final shout, coupled with his towering height, quieted Seru for a moment, which proved long enough for Okeda to storm out of the room, nearly breaking the paper-thin doors he slammed behind him.

Though both of the children were alarmed and startled, the oldest one, Kare, quietly spoke up, questioning her mother in as little of a voice as she could muster, "What's wrong with daddy these days?"

Seru, still angry and glaring in Okeda's departed direction, softened her face as much as she could, and then walked over to her small children, smiling lightly, "I don't know, I think he's worried."

"But then why do you two fight all the time?"

"I don't know," she replied, kissing each of the children on the head before ushering them out of the house. "I don't know," she repeated to herself, after they'd left.

Okeda, meanwhile, was already stalking his way around the neighbourhood by the time his children were out of the house, his mind racing and his blood still surging. His mind was barely working, and had been doing so basically since he had been fired by Yolanda, something he had hidden from the rest of his family, and therefore hid his anguish as well.

A gentle wisp of divine and curious wind touched at the man's face, cool and reassuring. He tried to breathe as well as he could, keeping whatever anger he could from surfacing. He hated himself for displaying such behaviour in front of his children, yet as often as he tried to restrain himself, he even more often was prone to sudden outbursts, which often scared himself as badly as his kin.

He wound his way through the streets, his forehead slowly cooling, as was the rest of him, as he came to a gentle stop in an empty alleyway several blocks away from his house. There he slumped up against the wall, and forced himself into a midway between calm and rage. The wind blew at his ears, and he could almost feel the rushing of it through himself, as though he were merely transparent to its path, a mere observer on its winding journey.

His hands were trembling, as they often did when he was angry or frightened, and he lay back against the wall until they had stopped. By that time though, he was well relaxed, and he saw no need to get up, since he had that day off from work, and nothing but more self-created anger awaited him back at his house. So he lay on the floor, the few travellers that roamed the streets taking no heed of his presence.

Several more minutes went by, slowly turning into a little over an hour, and yet Okeda was more than content to merely sit, and think. He thought of nothing, really, but a bitter and almost…dangerous memory proceeded to nag at his otherwise hollow thoughts. That man, just a few days earlier, who had been so deranged, and said all those strange things to him, suddenly seemed important, and he took a few moments to decide if he could determine just what the man had meant. Before he could get any serious thought in though, his nose was suddenly assaulted with a putrid stench.

The smell, he had known, was possibly the most disgusting possible in the universe. Though he could smell no smoke, or hear no fire to accompany the smell, he couldn't deny its presence, and he quickly got up to find out its source. He ejected himself from the small nook he had been residing in, and then sniffed the air, pinpointing the smell off to his right. He moved slowly in that direction.

As he progressed down the road, the smell got stronger, and he was almost in tears by the time he tracked down its source. In front of a small shop, quite obviously an inn, stood three people, two of whom were dressed in dark black clothes, and a third who, like Okeda, was cringing at the nose, and obviously arguing with the two darkly clothed ones.

"We are willing to pay, of course," a husky, low voice omitted from one of the dark, hooded forms. Okeda felt something almost familiar about that voice.

"I don't care!" Was the brash reply from the third man, who seemed to be the owner of the inn, "The way you two stink, you'd drive away the rest of my business!" The owner's voice was adamant, though plugged, as he was holding his nose.

"Yes," Okeda whispered to himself, keeping a safe distance away from the trio, "they are the source of the smell. How disgusting."

The two black figures turned towards each other, and Okeda could make out the slim face of a young woman under one of the hoods, while the other was completely obscured. He could not make out either of their eyes. They seemed to be whispering something to each other, but before long they turned back to the inn-keeper and asked, "Can you at least tell us about that young boy seen around here?"

The owner replied with an almost angry tone, "What? You mean that little ruffian, Hokono? You don't want any business with him, that's for sure."

The two others just nodded, then replied in unison, "Thank you anyways."

They then turned together, as if as one person, and headed on down the street, towards Okeda. The man quickly retreated to the corner of another alley-way, and the two took no notice of him as they passed by. Even so, he took plenty of notice of them, especially the scent which seemed to surround them. He could no longer deny it; they were the ones that smelt as if they were on fire. Okeda hadn't wanted to remember that smell for the rest of his life, but these two were coated in it, living testaments to the burning of Kyoto.

As they passed directly by him, the odour became to strong for Okeda, and it suddenly rushed to his head, causing him to lose his orientation, his throat almost vomiting of his own accord. His head swam, and he sank back down to the ground, his eyes awash in some sort of kaleidoscope of colors, none of which melded together or gave any hint of beauty. He shook his head to rid himself of the vision, but he couldn't, and before long his head was throbbing from the sudden imprint in his eyes. He had no idea where this graven image of a montage of colors came from, but he knew it was very painful in the least.

After several seconds, the image began to fade out, and his head slowly returned to normal. By that time, the two blackly-clothed people, one woman, one man, were far down the street, beyond his sight. Even so, the wind, now stronger and less supple, carried their fragrance to him, unwanted.

Okeda turned on his heel and headed back towards his home. "Even that hell-hole is better than this crap." The wind seemed to agree.