Megumi spent the remainder of the meal picking at her food. She'd lost her appetite rather thoroughly when Kei had let slip his opinion about those who turned to the underworld.

Sometimes, the memory of her time in Takeda Kanryuu's web faded to the point where she could pretend to herself that it had never happened--that she'd met the Kenshin gumi at the market, perhaps, or treated one of them for an illness. But then something would happen--someone that she remembered from that time would come in to be treated, or someone would make a comment about gangsters or opium. Even seeing the scar on Sano's hand, when she changed the bandages for him, was enough to make her remember that tower room, and that gleaming, seductive edge of naked steel that had seemed to be the only way out.

Not for the first time, she wondered why he had leapt across the small, bench-lined room to catch the knife in his bare hands. He'd hated her then for manufacturing the opium that had killed his friend Yoita, for lying to them about herself, for getting them involved in this whole mess. At the time, she'd been stunned beyond measure that he'd taken such a risk, and deeply puzzled.

She'd ultimately decided that his motives had been a sort of "we went to this much trouble for the dumb woman, I'm not about to let it all go to waste" thinking. It didn't quite satisfy her, however, and every so often, her mind would return to the puzzle, picking at it like a child picking at a scab.

She'd never quite had the courage to ask him about it.

Kei stretched his arms over his head, yawning a little, and then apologizing. "I was up early this morning to be on the road--I wanted to reach Tokyo as quickly as I could." Unlike the others at the table, his legs weren't tucked under him or crossed in front of him, or even the one-leg-up, one-leg-flat position Sano favored. Instead, he'd settled the soles of his feet flat together, with his legs folded out to either side, and his hands resting on his ankles. It made Megumi smile, involuntarily. She couldn't do it--never had. Kei had always been able to, claiming he found it more comfortable then any other position.

Their mother had fussed about it every so often, but their father had always told her to leave him alone. "It's not hurting him, after all."

"But neither Megu-chan or I can do it--"

"He's flexible, is all." Their father had laughed. "You've never objected to flexibility before."

"Ryuusei! The children--!"

"Wouldn't be here except for that." He'd kissed her extravagantly at that point, sending Megumi and Kei into paroxysms of disgust.

They had loved each other so much . . .

Megumi's breath caught hard in her throat, and she made a strangled little sound, hunching over as the force of her grief made her stomach knot.

"Megu-chan? Are you feeling all right?"

She took a deep, unsteady breath and slowly straightened up again to look at her brother, watching her with a concerned look. "It's all right," she said, blinking furiously against the moisture in her eyes. "I was--just thinking about--"

"Okaasan and Otousan," he guessed, and she nodded. "I still grieve, every day," he said. "It's so terrible to be alone all of the time."

"Yes," she said fervently, remembering her days under Takeda Kanryuu. She'd learned all about being alone in the middle of a crowd.

He nodded at that. "Of course. I don't need to tell you that." He put his hand on hers. "But it's all going to be better now that I've found you."

She gave him a wobbly, watery smile. "I know."

A small, warm body thrust itself up under her arm. "Meg-neesan sad?"

Megumi looked down. Suzume-chan's small face stared back up at her, the little brows pulled together in worry. "Meg-neesan sad?" she asked again.

Megumi looked up across Kei and into Sano's face. His eyes were very dark and his mouth uncharacteristically solemn. She looked past him and around the circle at her friends, who all looked equally worried. Kaoru was worrying the ends of her hair, Kenshin's brows were drawn together, Genzai-sensei's face was pensive, Ayame-chan was biting her lip, and even Yahiko was watching her with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

"I'm fine," she said, nominally to Suzume-chan, but really to all of them. "I just remembered something that made me a little sad. It happens."

Suzume put her small, chubby arms around Megumi's waist. "Megneesan better now?"

"Yes."

The little girl gave her an angelic smile. "Can I have your ohagi?"

The booth exploded with laughter, probably more then was warranted, but the tension was broken. Smiling, Megumi broke the single remaining ohagi on her plate in half and gave one half to Suzume and half to Ayame.

When, half an hour later, Suzume fell asleep under the table, Genzai-sensei decided to take them home. It signaled the breakup of the party, as the three from the dojo decided to leave as well.

Megumi got to her feet, stretching to get all the kinks out. Kei picked up his bags and bowed to the booth in general. "It was so nice meeting you all," he said. "I'm glad my sister has had such good friends here in Tokyo."

"You should come to dinner tomorrow!" Kaoru said brightly. "At the dojo!"

"I wouldn't want to--"

"Oh, no, we do it all the time, Kei," Megumi said absently. "Kaoru, are you cooking?"

Kaoru looked mulish. "Well--I--"

"What're you tryin' ta do, fox, poison your brother?" Sano asked lightly.

Kaoru tried to throw her chopsticks at him, but Kenshin caught them easily, and said, "I'll cook, Megumi-dono."

"Well in that case, I'll see you all tomorrow."

They stood there for a very awkward moment, and Kei slid her a sidelong glance. "Megumi? Were you waiting for something?"

She had been, Megumi realized with a jolt. She'd been waiting, without even knowing it, for Sano to rise and say casually, "Might as well walk ya home, fox," the statement signaling the transition from friend and sparring partner in daylight to lover in the night.

She looked at him, helplessly. He looked back, giving her a crooked, wistful smile. "Ja ne, Fox. See ya tomorrow."

After that, there was nothing to do but . . . go.