Before I make dedications, I'm going to give you a very important news flash. DO NOT read this fic without reading this first. *sighs* No, I'm not going to trash this fic, far from it, so don't worry. However, this has taken an unexpected turn. I sincerely believe that this is the chapter that will weed out my faithful readers and ones who just do it for sport. It's very unlike me to write such themes, and only ones who truly understand can be open hearted enough to believe. I'm so scared, no, terrified, that what I've written will leave all of you people wondering "What the hell?" I used to write this fic for myself and not expect reviews, and that's how my story is going.

What does this mean for you readers? Quite simply, if you have faith in me, you will stick with me until the end. I think it turns out that I don't even have faith enough in myself. I'm going to postpone dedications until the next chapter because you reviewers had no idea this plot was coming. I thought that maybe you don't want your name to be affiliated with such a chapter...

Alright, I'm done. Enjoy and do tell me what you think, it's like I'm laying my heart out here. Break it, enlighten it, just don't ignore it.

*********

They Say Cameras Are Only Good For Pictures... 9
By: Karina Kineshi (coronaflare@mail.com)

So, they're going to use the dreamweaver... smart move...

They had long since arrived in Tokyo, and since it was sunset when they left Kyoto, it was now later into the night. Kaoru and Kenshin both bid them a good night and disappeared off into the darkness, arm in arm. Zanza turned to walk with Megumi, but not before he saw Kaoru giving him a concealed thumbs-up and a gigantic grin.

"Sanosuke...? Are you coming?" Megumi hated to break him out of his thinking, but he had just been standing there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the ground. She was starting to wonder if he was getting sick with something. "Are you walking home with me?"

I don't have much time left... I have to start the plan now.

Much to her dismay, Sanosuke merely turned his back to her, then called over his shoulder, "Sorry Meg, I can't tonight. You can walk home. Alone." With that, he was away, leaving a stunned Megumi wondering what she had done wrong.

I'm so sorry for what I'm going to do to you... but it has to be done to meld your souls together...

******************

Shinomori gently put a hand over Sano-chan's mouth. "Now, I'm going to warn you. She doesn't talk too much, but the others... well... you'll see for yourself."

Sano-chan heard Battousai mutter something about one loudmouth in particular. "Do you know anyone by the name of Saitoh Hajime?"

In disbelief, he nodded. He indeed knew the ex-Captain of the Shinsengumi all too well. In fact, it was bordering on hate. Although he had always teased Sanosuke for being a loser or being too weak, deep down inside, Sano knew that he had to be impressed by some of the things he did. "Why do you ask?"

Shinomori and Battousai both looked at each other and smiled. "You'll see," was their simple, combined answer. Suddenly, there was another flash of red light, but this time, Sano-chan had been expecting it. He didn't shut his eyes as he had earlier when he went to go visit Tokio. But unlike Tokio's area, this place looked exactly like the rest of Gehenna: black and foggy. However, there was a giant circle of white light a few yards off, with what looked like three piles of wood in the center.

"They're spindles. You use them to weave yarn. In this case, you weave dreams. This is the chamber of the dreamweavers." Battousai explained.

Sano-chan scratched the back of his head. "Oh. So... where are they?"

Shinomori smiled. "You haven't learned yet, Sano-chan. You must listen, not see. Eyes can deceive, but your hearing never tries to trick you here." Shinomori snickered, then added, "You don't have to listen too hard to find them..."

Sano-chan was puzzled by Shinomori's last remark but closed his eyes anyways. It was the only way to get to Megumi, and if closing his eyes were all it took, he'd sleep forever. At first, there was nothing but silence.

God, I hate the quiet...

At first, it started off as a whisper, but then steadily increased in volume until Sano-chan could make out specific words, and then whole sentences. He opened his eyes. In place of where the three piles of wood were, three figures were sitting beside them. "Are those... the dreamweavers?"

Battousai nodded. "They are. I wonder what Hajime's got them talking about now..."

"But isn't this called eavesdropping?" Sano-chan's sense of privacy had been questioned for a moment. He glared at the two souls, busy listening in on their conversation. "Is this all you souls do all day? Just... listen in to other people talking?"

Shinomori waved his hand. "C'mon Sano-chan, Soujirou'll forgive us..."

"You mean Soujirou's here too!!" He was silenced by a wave of Battousai's hand. Sano-chan grumbled, but unwillingly leaned his head in closer to listen.

Gods, this is so wrong...

A woman's voice started speaking. "Now, that's where I disagree with you, Hiko. I believe that life begins the moment you are conceived... Don't look at me like that, you always try to con me out of my belief system..."

"Discrepo con tu y acuerdo con Señora Hiko. Creo que vida empieza a naciemiento."

The first woman's voice snorted. "You always agree with Hiko, Soujirou. No one ever takes my side in an argument, why should I expect you to do the same?"

A silence.

"Yes Hiko, I already know that! Everyone knows that! I know that souls don't enter the body until birth, this I know. But I believe that without a vessel to put it in, the body at conception, it's pointless to call it life. Are you sort of understanding what I'm trying to say? You say life begins when the soul first enters the body at birth, I think life begins when the human vessel is first formed."

Some general sounds of agreement, and then some whispering. "Ah, so Master Shinomori and Battousai are here?"

Although the comment caught Sano-chan so off guard that he stumbled backwards, Battousai and Shinomori both straightened themselves primly and brushed off whatever particles of dirt were on their clothes. "We're very sorry for listening in, but I didn't want to interrupt." They were a couple of well-behaved gentlemen, speaking to air. There was still no sign of the two bearers of the voices.

"¡Ah! ¡Señor Shinomori! Recepción a nuestra guarida. Y tu, Señor Battousai. ¿Quièn es el chico detrás de usted?"

Sano-chan shook his head and looked around. There was still no one there. Battousai nudged him in the ribs. "Soujirou wishes to know who you are. Tell her."

"But there's no one here," he hissed through gritted teeth. "And I can't speak whatever the hell she's speaking!" Sano-chan did a double take and squinted at Battousai. "That was Soujirou?"

Another woman's voice spoke, the first one he heard while they were eavesdropping. Her voice was mocking. "So, the child of Sagara Sanosuke wishes to see us? Shinomori, I remember you being a horrid teacher, and I guess this just proves my point." A silence, then the woman's voice sighed. "Yes, Hiko, please don't indulge me in your girlish fantasies. I know you think he's cute..."

"What?!" Before Sano-chan had anytime to react, he was confronted with the single most terrifying thing he'd ever seen: cookies. A hunchbacked old lady with a friendly smile was pushing them towards his face on a silver platter, all the while commanding him in some foreign language. " Cómalo. ¡Está bien!" she gently insisted.

There's something oddly familiar about that face...

Without hesitation, Shinomori and Battousai took a cookie from the platter and began nibbling on it. After a few moments, Battousai shot Sano-chan a look that said, "Take a cookie or die." He had it now; this had to be Soujirou... as a woman. The friendly, caring smile was a dead giveaway. She was garbed in a simple brown dress with a beige apron over the top of it. The fabric didn't look like it was too expensive; in fact, it looked like the type that potato sacks were made out of. Despite her poor appearance, it was her face that captured his attention. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed like honest and fine lines, very different from the hard and defined ones around say, Saitoh Hajime's eyes. Her mouth was forever turned upwards in a smile. It reminded Sano-chan vaguely of a kind old grandma.

"Mmm... wonderful cookies! Seriously, you really know how to bake these things, Señora Soujirou." Shinomori tapped a lean finger to the Fate's forehead, making her smile even wider. Sano-chan took Battousai's lead and took one of the cookies from the platter.

My God, they're huge...

The thing was laden with chocolate chips, rising up from the caramel expanse of dough like miniature mountains. It was still warm to the touch, just like it had just been baked. He sincerely doubted that he could eat the whole thing; it was as big as his head, if not bigger. Sano-chan took a bite while looking around for the other two Fates. Battousai had disappeared. The woman watched him expectantly. After mulling over his taste for a couple seconds, he grinned in appreciation. "Wow, those were... too good..."

The Fate known as Soujirou started talking again. "¿Realmente? Las galletas son fáciles de hacer. Puedo darle la receta."

Sano-chan was lost. No, more dumbstruck than anything else. How could he not understand a word this woman was saying? He suddenly felt very small until Shinomori gave him an encouraging smile. "Just try to understand. You will get it. Remember, it's not your eyes, it's your ears..." The man laid a hand on Sano-chan's shoulder and pushed him forward. "Remember."

A woman's voice interrupted. "Do you really think that'll work, Shinomori?" That tone again, mocking.

"Stay out of this. He needs to remember how to listen," came Shinomori's stern reply.

"Suit yourself," was the nonchalant reply.

Sano-chan was all the while was trying to concentrate on the elderly woman's face. Still smiling, still happy. The air felt so heavy with tension, but it didn't come from Soujirou. He could feel waves of discomfort from Shinomori, one of the people he would least expect it from. The pressure was on, both from seeing eyes and unseen ones. He couldn't screw this one up.

"¿Es usted que se siente arrepentido?"

Think about what she's saying...

"¿Tiene pesares?"

She's asking me...

Sano-chan sighed. "No, no tengo ningún pesar. Quiero ver Megumi."

I have no regrets, I want see Megumi again...

There was a stunned silence. Shinomori's arms were crossed in a smug look of victory, Soujirou's ancient eyes lit up like two luminescent stars, and Sano-chan could only shake his head in joyful disbelief. "¡Yo hablo español!" he exclaimed. A weight suddenly manifested on his head, although he couldn't see anything but air there. "I'm impressed, Shinomori. Very well done indeed."

That voice...

"Then again, we could probably just attribute that to a giant stroke of luck..."

Shinomori tossed his head haughtily but the weight off Sano-chan's head hadn't been lifted yet. "You know I try, my lady, I do try."

Sano-chan squirmed underneath the invisible burden. It became so heavy that his head felt ready to sink into his thoracic cavity. He jerked his head to the side and came face to chest with... "Oh God! I'm so sorry!!" Face and ears blazing, he tried to cover his eyes with his hands, but found the task at hand quite impossible since his face was currently embedded between...

"My my, you're just like Shinomori. Well, of course, if he was just a little bit less gay..." The woman pried out Sano-chan's face out from between her assets and pushed him away. The child's face grew redder when he scrambled up from his position on the floor, then drained into a ghostly white when he concentrated on her face. She snickered, "I think it's safe to assume that you're not gay judging from your reaction, right?"

Shinomori waggled his finger at the woman, who received it with an impious grin. "You're so mean!"

"Who are you?" If there was another more beautiful woman one earth other than Megumi, this had to be the one. Just like Soujirou, this woman was clothed, but just barely enough to cover her essentials. The fabric shimmered like the depth of the ocean and made her yellow eyes gleam. One five-inch wide strip ran across her lower waist, while another even thinner strip, more like a ribbon, covered her chest.

And well endowed she was! Sanosuke couldn't help himself from thinking so lecherously, but all the angels in heaven couldn't compare to the one that stood before him. He briefly thought about Shinomori saying something like "We souls have no definition." Guess again buster! he thought wryly. Jet-black hair akin to Tokio's was tied into two low ponytails that trailed onto the ground. One single strand crossed down into her eyes and ended just below her nose and where her mouth began. Those two rose petals seemed capable of curling, smiling, and many other things that people wouldn't know about. He found himself strangely drawn to those lips...

"Ella es una mujer mala, Saitoh Hajime."

Oh ye Gods...

The woman laughed again and pulled two clips from the side of her head. Three more strands of hair fell over her eyes. "I am not a bad girl Soujirou, that's not very nice of you to say such a thing..." She paused, and then gauged the effect that this had on the young boy cowering before her, still on the ground, still crimson. "She is however, right about one thing. My name is Saitoh Hajime. I am the Fate of the Present. Please, call me Hajime."

The voluptuous woman pulled out a black lacquered stick from behind her ear and tantalizingly held it to her lips. If anyone knew how to make men swoon, this woman would be the one. He sputtered. "Y-You're... S-Saitoh?"

"Yeah," she drawled. Hajime reached into her bosom and took out a cigarette, all the while making Sano-chan's ears flare. She placed it on the end of the black lacquered stick and made fire from the end of her fingertips. No match or anything. Her fingernails were aflame. "Come, you look so shocked. Give it up already; I already know that you think I'm gorgeous." She lit the end of her cigarette and started smoking it through the stick. "You can't hide your desires from me."

Battousai miraculously reappeared beside Sano-chan, with a little girl by his side. He had his hand on her head, and she was smiling shyly at him. "Hajime," he stated simply.

"My dear Battousai, are you still living?"

He smiled. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Hajime."

Hajime waved her hand while a golden divan materialized into view. She lounged on it and took a long drag from her cigarette. "Nonsense Battousai! I would never want to rid myself of you." She took another look at Sano-chan, who was struggling to get to his feet, still fixated on her face. "Aw, c'mon. Have a seat. I'm sure this must be terribly surprising for you."

"Can I ask you a question?" Sano-chan felt a surge of confidence well up in him. He cautiously glanced at Soujirou, who just smiled. "How do I get back to Megumi?"

That stopped Hajime short and wiped the smile right off her face. She put the cigarette down from her lips and regarded the child with a cool eye. His face, she thought; they have a serious earnestness in them that is rare in one so young. "Why do you wish to return to your body?"

He wasn't prepared to answer that. Sano was expecting a simple "This is how to get out and you must do this" kind of answer. To answer a question with a question was one of the things that confounded him most because those questions always seemed to be rhetorical. "I... I wish to see Megumi... I guess..." Hajime and Sano-chan stared at each other until he tore his eyes away, face burning. He could feel the heat of her gaze at the top of his head , making every hair at the back of his neck prickle. "I want to protect Megumi."

Soujirou set her cookies down on a lavishly decorated corner table and sat down, hands neatly folded on her lap. Shinomori bowed and gracefully rose into the air, leaving only a red blaze of light in the process. Battousai soon followed, leaving the little girl he was with to herself. She scrutinized his every move, and Sano-chan felt like melting. Here he was in the presence of quite possibly the three most powerful women in Gehenna, all staring at him like some sort of criminal. Not only that, but they were the epitome of people he considered men, Seta Soujirou, Hajime Saitoh, and...

I've heard many things about you, Sano-chan. My dear Battousai has told me much about you. My name is Hiko Seijurou the 13th. I am Himura Kenshin's master, and it's a pleasure to meet you. The little girl smiled at the shock evident in the boy's face and bounded over to where he sat. I am the dreamweaver, and the Fate of the Past.

"¿Cuánto más usted lo piensan pueden tomar de este locura?" mused Soujirou.

Hajime only laughed. "I don't know, but the kid looks like he's going to faint. Do you want a cigarette?" Sano-chan defiantly shook his head but kept his eyes glued to the little girl that stood before him. "Fine, more cigarettes for me. Ahou." The little girl shook her head, making the pearls in her headdress shiver. She looked to be no more than the age of eight, but was dressed magnificently, as if she was the crown princess of Emperor Mutsuhito himself. Those outdated Heian robes that she wore certainly made her look like royalty, but was the master of Kenshin actually royalty turned against the government? Is that what this disguise meant? This Hiko had a perpetual blush on her cheeks that glowed even brighter when she looked at Sano-chan.

Why are you so mean, Hajime?, asked the little girl rhetorically. Don't you ever get tired of your bad ass attitude?

She snorted. "I'm not at all mean, Hiko."

"Mentirosa."

"Who are you calling a liar, Soujirou?!" Hajime raged. She got up and knocked over her chair, shaking her fist at the elderly woman. "I may not agree with that 'Aku Soku Zan' crap but I will not hesitate to kill you." Soujirou didn't even bat an eyelash; she just kept on smiling. This time though, it wasn't a happy smile, but more of a smug one.

You're just jealous because she can kick your butt at poker, said Hiko.

"What was that?!?"

Sano-chan held up his hands in a futile attempt to placate the Fates. Three angry women was the last thing he wanted on his hands right now. Hell, even one was enough for him to handle. "How about I ask you all some questions on how to get out of here. Is that good for everyone?" Hajime reluctantly sat down, face flushed from yelling. She seethed and composed herself, chest heaving up and down as if engaging in that verbal combat took all of her strength. "That's good for everyone, right?"

Fine, Hiko nodded her head.

"Muy bien."

"What the hell ever, let's just get along with it."

Sano-chan sighed. He felt an incredible craving for one of the cigarettes that Hajime had so graciously offered; maybe it would do something for the throbbing headache he was getting. "Now... can you all tell me... a little bit about yourself and what you do as Fates?"

He was met with three blank stares. "What do you mean what we do? You mean, why we are here?" Sano-chan nodded. "Well," Hajime started. "Everyone has their purpose in the dreamweaving process. I am the Fate of the Present, and therefore in charge of spinning dreams about your present state."

"Spinning dreams?"

She pointed at the three piles of wood that he had seen earlier. "Those are our looms," she explained, "They aid us in spinning dreams. What, did you think dreams magically appeared in your mind when you go to sleep?" Sano-chan didn't respond. "Well, now you know. I give you the dreams that involve you in alternate realities, and you know those weird things that flash before your eyes just when you're about to sleep? Sometimes they come in the form of purple flashing lights, or little whirlpools of light, or sometimes as objects you've never seen before?" She grinned. "That's all my invention."

You forgot something else, Hiko reminded him. Your most important job.

"I'm also in charge of nightmares."

Sano's eyes bulged. "And... you enjoy this?"

Hajime laughed and lit another cigarette. "Of course! I love to torture people who deserve to be tortured."

"You sound exactly like Saitoh with his Aku So—"

He was stopped by the look of rage in her eyes. "I don't believe in that bullshit. Yes, part of it is true; evil deserves to be exterminated. But... the perpetrators are only human, and evil is not something that can stand by itself. It needs a human body. To kill the evil would be to kill the body who is merely being used as a pawn for evil. This is also evil!" She leaned in closer to Sano-chan's face and almost made his heart stop beating. "It's hypocrisy, the soul that is in my body right now. He thinks everyone is evil except him, so therefore they deserve to die. This reasoning is flawed, and it's bullshit."

For once, I agree with your thinking, Hajime, Hiko stated.

"Concordo."

Hajime lingered for moment longer near Sano-chan's face. "Any more questions for me?" Sano-chan blushed and tried to stammer something out, but couldn't get any words out until she leaned back away from him.

You haven't lost your touch, Hajime.

She smirked at the voice that only she could hear. "Perhaps you were wondering about these and why I have them, correct?" Hajime pushed up her bosom and grinned at the reaction from Sano-chan. He looked ready to pass out. Soujirou merely rolled her eyes and nibbled on a cookie, while Hiko was watching all this intently. "I'm sure Shinomori has said something about 'We souls have no definition' right? You want to know why I have definition up here while you have nothing down there, right?"

"¡Señora Hajime!" Soujirou's wrinkled face was appalled, but her eyes held a twinkle of amusement. She had grown used to her friend's flirtatious antics.

Hajime continued. "There is no real answer except for that... you're just a regular old soul. I have a purpose for all of humanity, and that's to weave nightmares and stuff. With responsibility comes special privileges, this just happens to be one of the perks."

Sano-chan mumbled and lowered his head. "Literally."

"What was that?"

"N-Nothing!" He tried to rebound. "All right, let's move onto Soujirou. I remember you as the Fate of the Future. What do you do?"

The elderly matron tilted her head to the side and looked past Sano-chan, perhaps at the endless black that surrounded them. Then, in a voice as clear as a cloudless midnight sky, she began to tell her tale. Her words were a bit broken, but it was understood by all. "I am the Fate of Future. My charge is spinning dreams of your future, for examples, you getting married or having kids. Even, I do alternate realities. My specialties are dreams in which you die and go to heaven. Miss Hajime's are the ones where you go to hell."

Sano-chan was entranced at the light flickering in her eyes. Whenever they're eyes met, he saw all the wonders and secrets of the world locked away, perhaps no one has ever known. They had resilience and hardiness that showed that she was a woman of the world and has seen it all. Those eyes... eerily analogous with Megumi-sensei's... those eyes...

She is also in charge of déjà vu.

"That feeling of... that feeling where you've been there before and you've done it."

"Si."

Sano-chan nodded. "All right, this is all making sense so far... is there a hidden meaning behind all of your forms? Well, obviously..." He pointed at Hiko, the Hajime, then Soujirou in succession. "... you stand for the youngness of childhood, you stand for the maturity of early womanhood, and you are in a ripe old age. But is there... something else? Like why do you only speak Spanish?"

The three Fates glanced at each other; actually, it was more of Hiko and Hajime watching Soujirou. The old woman hung her head dejectedly, watching her cookies on the table as if looking up would be too painful for her. With a lurch, she got to her feet and picked up her cookie tray. The air was tense with waiting and full of regret. "Me disculpe." Sano-chan's eyes locked with hers for a brief instant. He gasped.

"Soujirou! Wait!"

He was too late. The Fate of the Future already disappeared into thin air, cookies and all. Sano-chan stared at the ground for the longest time, unable to shoulder what he saw in Soujirou's eyes. The terror... oh God, it was almost as horrific as when he had broken that day in Shishio's mansion...

Hajime cleared her throat and spoke quietly. "She doesn't like to talk about her past with strangers... however... there's also another thing that she can do..."

... and it's repress your bad memories, finished Hiko.

"My God... Soujirou... has been through all that? That's why..."

Hiko hung her head to pay reverence. Surely you must know about Soujirou's surrogate family; they made him work like a slave although he was their bastard brother. They beat him, came to the edge of killing him, and all because of family politics. Do you remember when he broke?

Sano-chan nodded while Hajime clenched her fist and pounded the table into shards. "... he finally remembered those long lost memories and it was too much for him to handle. Too much for Gehenna to handle. Soujirou, this Fate..." Hajime's eyes darkened. "Was forced into the body by order of Tokio. That was all the pent up fury you experienced that day."

"Coming from that old woman..."

Old minds are tormented, Sano-chan. What else did you see when she looked at you?

This was too much. Too much. Who would have ever known that the smiling Soujirou secretly had all this hate buried inside of him? Despite all the repressed anger and revenge, there was still a little flicker of hope left inside. The man was like Pandora's box, when he was opened all the bad things of the world swarmed out, anger, misery, greed, thirst for revenge. Finally, when the box was shut, similar to Kenshin beating him that day, he did manage to salvage one last bit of something.

Hope. And one beautiful memory.

"His father had him with some whore. But not just any whore; she was..." He glanced upwards to receive a small smile from Hajime. "... she was Spanish." He smiled and closed his eyes, as if reliving the experience right there with Soujirou himself. "The woman was Spanish, and she wanted to raise Soujirou right there with his father. She was young, and beautiful... the father loved her very much, despite her being who she was..."

It was a relationship doomed to failure.

Sano-chan paused for a bit and replayed the thoughts given to him, each time growing successively closer for Soujirou. "He remembers that no matter what the time of day, she always offered him cookies. Always. At night, during day... cookies. She was so kind... unusual for someone like that to care about their kid. The father, the mother, and the child. One perfect, loving family."

Do you know what happened to her, Sano-chan?

His heart grew heavy. "She died when he was four," he said bluntly. "... his mother was the only thing he'd think of when he was feeling bad. When he was always smiling, it was his mother smiling also..." Gods, with a messed up past like that, Sano-chan was surprised that he didn't crack sooner. Unlike Soujirou, he'd himself had never remembered a mother's touch. Hell if he could even remember her name—

"Ah, but you do know her name and you do remember, you just don't want to remember." Hajime interrupted. "You've just grown used to a life with the Sekihoutai, so much that you don't remember your real family."

The one you ran away from when you were seven, finished Hiko.

Sano racked his brain to try and remember his mother. He had met his father again earlier, and quite a shock it was. How long ago was that? Three years? Four years? He got reintroduced to the family he left behind, his father, sister, and brother, but something was missing. "My mother. She's dead already. I don't remember her name." He knew how bad this sounded, what man can forget his mother's name? "... I've just been through so much, you know, I can't really bother myself with such trivia."

The little girl's mouth hung open. Surely you don't mean such things. Your own mother! You must remember her name; part of you is never complete until you do! She looked at Hajime, who had taken another cigarette out of her bosom and lit it. She had the air of indifference around her. Hiko tried again. Don't you want to know?

Sano-chan shrugged. "She was just someone that took care of me for a little while. Sagara-taichou was more of a mother to me than she was."

Hajime lounged on the divan and blew a smoke circle into the air. She started laughing, effectively making Sano squirm in his chair. "And do you remember his first name?" she asked lightheartedly.

"Of course I do! It's... it's... um... well..." he stammered. "Well... I..." Hajime took his hesitance as her answer. Hiko merely closed her eyes and slid closer to him. "It's..." Sano-chan had never thought about that before. In the Sekihoutai, he'd always called him what everyone else did, his last name attached to the honorific that meant "captain". He'd never heard anyone call him by his first name, not even on those rare occasions when his comrades would joke with him about dumb things like women or sake.

Why can't you remember? asked Hiko.

He shook his head and almost felt like bursting into tears when she placed an arm around his shoulders. Granted, he may not have known it, but he felt horrible that he never bothered to find out. Like a part of him was missing without it. "I can't remember because I never used it," was his lame response. He needed to justify himself, and that was the best way he could defend himself. All he got in return was a comforting look from Hiko and a grin from Hajime. "What's so funny?" Why did everything have to be a joke to this scantily clad woman?

She snickered. "You still haven't gotten it yet, Sano-chan." Hajime face clicked into seriousness and her eyelids drooped a little. "Just because you don't know someone's first name doesn't mean that you don't know them."

That's right. You don't remember your mother because you connect her only with the name that people didn't use around her. Because you forget what her first name is, you forget her. Tell me, what did you call her?

His breath caught in his throat. "Mama..." A torrent of memories washed over his mind's eye; he dared not breathe for fear that they would somehow be dispelled back to the darkness from which they suddenly manifested from.

The way she gave him a peck on the cheek whenever it was time for bed...

They way her hair always rippled over her face when she was doing something that she had her whole heart and soul in, like cooking. No wonder her husband— his father — loved her so much. How much pain he must have gone through when he found her dying after the birth of Sanosuke's new baby brother...

"I'm so sorry, Dad..." he murmured sadly.

The way her voice never rose above a whisper but she still somehow managed to keep that commanding aura about her...

This is the responsibility of the Fate of the Past, to rekindle old flames that you have long since blown out...

The way she'd always know when he's had a bad day and would cook him his favorite dinner meal without fail...

I am in charge of overseeing all your repressed memories and making you remember. I am the dreamweaver.

Sano-chan knew it now. A thousand angels danced in heaven and he could have sworn that the gloomy Gehenna atmosphere brightened for one brief moment.

Her name was Naname.

*****

Paper's such a precious commodity nowadays, and I really hate to waste it by writing in your pages, but Genzai-sensei suggested that it was a good place to vent... Right now, instead of writing about how much Genzai-sensei is a lunatic for buying me a diary, I can't waste much room. I suppose that I should get straight to the point. My problem is Sanosuke.

Megumi's face wrinkled at the harshness of the word problem and scratched it out with her quill.

My first entry in here and I already make a mistake. I guess that Sanosuke just has that kind of effect on me. How incredibly stupid I am, how can I be so dense? How can he be so cold and uncaring?

Megumi sighed and inserted the date at the top of the paper, just in case she wanted to look back on it years from now. She scoffed and resisted the urge to tear up the paper. She read over what she wrote for about five minutes, eyes focusing on just one word.

Cold.

I just don't understand what he is thinking. I mean, he asks me to marry him and what happens? He leaves me alone. Maybe it's just his nature, but how come I didn't see this coming before? I can write here what I can't tell him: I love him. I thought that he felt the same way about me, but I'm starting to have my doubts.

The doctor sighed and struggled with the thought of putting the diary away, but something about the fluid lines on the page and the neatness of the kanji drew her eyes. It was certainly a change to write something about herself instead of just medicine, medicine, medicine.

He makes me feel weak. Why, just look at what all I've written about! Just him, not my medicinal woes or Kenshin or anyone else. Just him. I love him, but I don't believe he loves me. Ever since we've gotten back to Tokyo, he's disappeared, only coming here at night to...

Her eyes narrowed, partially out of anger, and the other part to keep tears from coursing down her face. The previous two night's encounters were still vividly etched in her memory, and she's just couldn't let go.

well... comes here late at night, has his fill, then leaves before morning's light. Am I really that much of an embarrassment to him? It makes me feel used. It makes me feel like I'm worthless to him. Then why do I still hang on him? The moments that we do share in those midnight trysts are some of the happiest of my life. It's like an enigma, he can simultaneously make me feel worthless and like a queen at the same time. There is no exchange of words between us at all; I have not heard his voice since the night we stepped off the train...

Megumi dipped her brush into the slate and keeps on writing, as if it unleashed a surge of powerful emotions set forth. It could hardly keep up with the speed and sentiment behind her thoughts; her precise writing was getting increasingly sloppier as the passion set itself free.

Was it something I said? Something I did? I sincerely hope not. Have you ever gotten the feeling were you are so in love that you feel like you could never get out? Or maybe you don't want to get out? His eyes, those beautiful eyes that I grow to love with each passing day, get colder and haggard... like he never sleeps. It pains me to see his eyes grow dull; his silence hurts me more.

The tears were flowing freely now, but still she fervently kept on writing.

I'm in too deep and I'm so scared that I won't be able to get out. Is it that I'm having doubts about this marriage? No, I don't believe so. But I need him to tell me he loves me. I need him like I need air to breathe...

Megumi slammed the leather bound book shut and threw her brush across the room. It hit the wall and landed on the floor, leaving little splotches of ink on the tatami mat and the reed wall. She angrily wiped off some droplets of water that collected on the leather with the back of her arm, further making her cry.

Why can't you tell me what's wrong?

*****

Hiko frowned. For some reason, we can't get any dreams into him. It's like he's shutting off his mind to us.

"Is that... possible?" Sano-chan asked worriedly. "I mean, can't we force it in there somehow?"

Hajime worriedly shook her head but still kept on spinning her loom. The thread that came out was spider web thin. While she was spinning, Hiko was feeding the other end of the thread into another loom. Judging by the tense atmosphere and the sweat beading on Hajime's forehead, this was hard manual labor. A couple of times she had to stop and catch her breath while Hiko intensely concentrated on winding the threads together.

This isn't working. What's going on?

"Maybe he's not sleeping. That has to be the only escape." Hajime stated. She put her hand over her heart and inhaled deeply. "He's figured us out."

"He's figured us out? How?"

Hiko stopped spinning and examined the thread. It was still fine, but now it was a rich gold color. He hasn't slept in two days. He knows that we are using rhapsodic dreaming to get to his mind, and therefore he keeps himself awake so we can't get in. She then did something rather odd by snapping off a bit of the string and eating it. Although Sano-chan was utterly lost, Hajime didn't seem to mind. She crossed her arms incredulously. "Smart son of a bitch..."

Sano-chan was crestfallen. He didn't even think it was possible to stay awake that long, what two days? Not a wink of sleep? How? All these questions and more raced through his head, first and foremost being: What is he hiding if he doesn't want us in his mind so badly? It had to be bad; he could feel it. "You mean I went through all this trouble for nothing?"

Hajime snorted. "Yeah. Sorry kid."

Hajime!! Hiko scolded. You can be so painfully blunt sometimes... don't you ever spare anyone's feelings?

No, that can't be it! Not after I've gotten this far, Megumi! I want to hold you again, there has to be something else I can do for you! "What about Megumi-sensei?" he pleaded. "She should know something, she's the only link between—"

— Oh God! Hiko clutched her head in her hands and doubled over in pain. My God... don't let him! Hajime bolted upright from her seat and dashed over to help the fallen girl, knocking over her loom in the process. It landed with a surreal clatter on the prism colored floor. The very room looked like it was pulsating with flashes of red and green light. No... she moaned. No!

Hajime held up Hiko's head with a crazed look of panic in her eyes. "Hiko! What the hell's going on? You took too much string dammit! What the hell did you do that for?!"

Hiko managed a faint smile through all the tears coursing down her cheeks. I wanted to help him, she said before curling up again and screaming in agony. The scream reverberated with an unearthly pitch, like the shrieks of a person who can't wake up from a horrible nightmare.

"What's going on?! Someone tell me!!"

Hajime snapped her head up and that wild look of alarm was still shining in her eyes. "Something bad... Zanza's losing the struggle against sleep and can't hold up much longer. Run, run as fast as you can. Go find Takani-sensei, go!" After a few moments of Sano-chan just gaping horrorstricken at the small girl and unable to move his body, Hajime snarled and threw a giant ball of fire into the black abyss just behind him. "Get going dammit! We don't have much time!!" The girl was now reduced to a huddled, shivering mass, trembling in the older woman's arms.

Sano-chan... please... save her... she begged. Go...

A strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around Sano-chan's shoulders and jerked him away from the scene. "Sano-chan, let's leave," was Shinomori's simple, urgent answer. "I shall explain everything en route. Battousai, we shall be by Takani-sensei's side. Go to Tokio and inform her of the dreamweaver's state. Join us as soon as possible, we'll be waiting." The commanding manner in which Shinomori conducted himself even in a time of panic wasn't lost on Sano-chan. Battousai bowed, and then disappeared. Sano-chan looked up at his mentor's face and saw an intense fire burning there, carefully veiled by the mask of not letting his emotions take over.

Truly, this was the leader of the Oniwa Banshuu.

"Let's go." The growing pit of dread engulfing his heart was the best convincer of them all, if not the mighty dreamweaver writhing on the floor in agony was enough. Another ethereal shriek from the girl shook the air and rang in his ears. "Now, Sano!" Upon command, he shut his eyes and started to listen for her.

That sad, lonely singing.

Megumi, wait for me...

*****

Megumi...

Zanza absentmindedly swirled the sake around in its cup, gazing intently at the way it sloshed over the edges and onto the table. The proprietor didn't seem to care about the mess he was making, seemed like everyone was leaving him by himself.

I'm so sorry Megumi, I know what you are feeling...

His eyelids suddenly grew very heavy and he begged whatever deities in heaven to just let him rest for one night. Zanza refused to go to sleep after he realized that Shinomori and Battousai were using the dreamweaver to figure out his motives, and no way did he work this hard to quit now. Zanza willed himself to stay awake in daytime by drinking and gambling, and at nighttime by being with Megumi. How he wished that he could go to sleep in her arms without fear of his mind being intruded upon.

That's all I want...

The sake and lack of sleep blurred his eyesight and he found himself wishing that he could hold her one last time before he was exterminated, but realized it would be a futile job. Once Tokio found out about this, he would cease to exist.

Megumi, I do this for you.

"Self sacrifice. I understand it now." Zanza said sadly. "It's where you're willing to give yourself for the one you love."

I wish I could touch you just one more time...

A slightly overweight and heavily drunk man came and slapped Zanza on the back. "Thanks a lot for the drink buddy!" he slurred. "We really should get to be more acquainted!" Zanza cringed; the man was repulsive. If he had known that he was going to do what he was going to do, the man would be hanging from some tree somewhere.

Except Zanza told him to do it.

The man started to stagger out of the tavern, but Zanza caught hold of his arm. "There's something else I want you to do."

The man grinned a little and his piggish eyes sparkled. "You up for another round buddy?"

Zanza felt he said it so silently that a whisper was too loud to the man. An icy fear clutched around his heart and captured his breath. He cleared his throat so that even through the man's dulled mind there would be no mistaking what Zanza was about to say. He didn't want, or couldn't stand, to say it more than once.

Forgive me, my wonderful Meg. For you, I'd choose a death knowing you'll be forever complete instead of living an empty life.

"Her name is Takani Megumi. I want you... to rape her."