Dedicated to: Jason (it's going to get even better soon ^_^), g2ozLizh (Nope, no Sanosuke x Megumi scene in the OAV *shakes fist at Watsuki*, but I detected a bit of wistfulness on Megumi's part when they were talking), mae (you know something's wrong when people are losing sleep over my fics o_O I'm chronically nervous on things I've never written before...) chibigreenwizardmon (heehee, you'll see), Firefury (I'll try to read the rest of Twisted Paradise as soon as I can. Here's Kaoru's reaction, just for ya), and M.Kasshoku (long time no see! I was planning on having Shinomori and Misao patch things up, so don't you worry about that. I have been ignoring Sano-chan/Megumi for a bit, but all is going according to the scenario... *smiles*)

Sorry people, I've been busy with Evangelion lately. They know how to give constructive reviews there, a polar opposite of what happens here in RKland. Please, I beg for constructive reviews. That's why I started going to Eva. Have no fear, either way, I will finish this fic ^_^

On with the show!

*********

They Say Cameras Are Only Good For Pictures... 15
By: Karina Kineshi (coronaflare@mail.com)

"Now, are you positively sure that you'll be all right here by yourself?"

The woman known as Fujita Tokio dismissed her husband's concern with a wave of her hand. Just because all the doctors in Tokyo had been fretting over her didn't mean that her husband had to do so as well. She had been one of the cases that had baffled all modern doctors. A few years ago she was struck with an unexplainable illness, and then very recently woke up, healthy as before. "Yes Hajime, I'll be all right."

Saitoh stared down his wife, a trick that he used whenever he thought she wasn't telling the truth. It wasn't very often he used this, but it worked when called upon. Tokio have him an equally unyielding stare. "Then I guess you're serious."

"You really shouldn't be serious all the time. You waste your life that way."

"Wise words from a wise lady." In an aberrant show of affection, Saitoh gently took Tokio's hand and held it to his lips. "I'll leave you then."

Tokio playfully pulled her hand out of his reach and sighed. "Such a chivalrous husband. How in the world did I ever come across someone so knightly?" Saitoh returned her sarcastic glare with one of mock disbelief. "Leave me then, O Knight, but hopefully not forever."

"If you need help—"

"Eiji will be here. You trained him well, Hajime."

"If Eiji can't handle it, then—"

"I will be here. You trained me well." Tokio held up her hand and ushered her husband out of the door. "Don't worry about us. You make me feel safe when you go to work and make others safe. So do your best."

Saitoh placed the worn out navy cap on his head, gave a quick nod to Tokio, and strolled down the path. Tokio saw the extra energy in his step, the extra sparkle in his eyes. She knew that today would be a good day for the people that he arrested. They were likely to escape with their lives today.

"Eiji?" she called.

The faint sound of brush strokes stopped. "Yes?"

"Finish up the sweeping and come inside soon, okay? It's getting cold and dark." Tokio surveyed the landscape while Eiji gave an affirmative. Life got back into its normal rhythm, just like the chirping of the cicadas that nested outside their house. Peaceful, calming.

It certainly did tend to get a lot darker when they were surrounded by woods, but it was a welcome darkness. After being checked by every single doctor in the area from sunrise to sunset, Tokio was starting to grow weary. "No, I can't explain why I got it." "No, I don't know where." "No, I can't remember anything during it."

It got tiring.

It was times like these that she was so glad to have a husband like Hajime. He was the one who silenced all their idiotic questions without saying a word at all. When he said, "Okay gentlemen, leave", they filed out of there so quickly Tokio wondered if the whole thing had been a mirage.

I don't think Eiji will mind if I take a bath first.

Being environed by woods also meant it got cold faster. They were shadowed all day from the sun's glare, meaning that the heat never really got down to the bottom level. It was a waste to let perfectly fine bath water go cold.

When walking down the path to the bathhouse, Tokio started to reminisce about her first encounter with her future husband. The story seemed like one that came straight out of a fairy tale book. She dropped a purse that she carried in her sleeves onto the streets without knowing it. Only when she got home did she realize that it was missing.

"It was as good as gone," she said to herself. "During these times especially, who would turn in a purse with money in it? It's lost, Tokio."

She was wrong. The next morning, before she could tell her family of that it was missing, she slid the door open and there it was. Seemingly untouched. Not a trace of dirt or any other grime on it. Tokio reached to pick it up and open it, but all the money was still there with not a yen missing. There was no note, no mention of a name or correspondence with which she could give thanks.

She wondered.

Being an adventurous type, she decided to test her theory of good. That day at the market, she made it a point to leave her purse "accidentally" on a vendor's stand. The money was still the same amount, and it was the same road where she think she dropped it. This sort of test didn't bother her one bit. The money was unimportant, her family had lots of it. But what struck her was the incredible selflessness of the person who gave her purse back.

Maybe there was still good in Japan.

When she woke up the morning after, she ran to the door and flung it open. No purse. Tokio berated herself for being stupid enough to believe in gallantry. "It was probably just a fluke," she said. "It must have been just one man who felt the need to turn it in. The second time, someone else found it and kept it. Simple as that."

She was wrong again. While she was heading back to her room, a chambermaid thrust a package into her arms. "Someone came here this morning and told me to give this to you."

When Tokio got through the many layers of newspaper, lo and behold, inside laid her purse. She opened it again. Money still there. However, there was one small addition. A small scrap of yellow parchment, with the words in neat hiragana. "Getting careless, are we?" she read.

What a nice touch.

Tokio decided at this point that she had to meet this character. She had never met (or not met) someone who was so unabashedly honest and loyal. The slightly sardonic tone of the note made her laugh aloud, and it took more than mere slapstick to amuse Tokio. Though it would have disturbed any other person that there was a suspicious character seemingly stalking them, it didn't bother her one bit.

"I'll do it again, and wait all night until he comes."

The same morning, she took a bigger gamble and left the purse on a different vendor's stand on a different street. This would confirm her suspicion that yes, someone was watching her. Once the deed was done and night fell, she willed herself to stay awake until her mystery person came by with her belongings.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity. The sun had already long set, and Tokio had never seen the moon that high up in the sky before. She longed to shut her eyes and go to blissful sleep, but her desire to see this person was too keen. Seconds passed into minutes, and minutes into hours. It took every ounce of willpower to keep her eyes riveted on her veranda.

While humming an old folk tune, she noticed a shadow approaching her. It walked slowly, purposefully. She wasn't scared because she could almost see his features in the moonlight. When he (she suspected it was a he because of the height) got closer, he was wearing an all blue uniform.

Must be a police uniform.

So it was a policeman who found my purse! Tokio would have gone to sleep at this point because the mystery man was uncovered; policemen were supposed to be chivalrous. It was their job. However, she was a woman of the world and knew that this wasn't always the case. Corruption was everywhere, even in the force. It would take even a policeman with a lot of willpower not to run off with her money. She kept watching.

The man didn't stop. Instead, he started walking towards her window! Slightly scared now, she grabbed the nearest fireplace poker and gripped it tightly. If this man was a burglar and not the man she was expecting, he'd be in serious pain. Burglars had been known to steal police uniforms to look authoritative and make it look like they knew what they were doing. Burglars dressed in uniforms could come and go as they pleased.

Tokio swore. He'd pay for taking advantage of people like that.

Two excruciating minutes of silence. When she saw the shadow move again, she whipped around her curtain and tried to hit him with the poker. Steel clashed against steel, and Tokio found herself looking into two eyes that gleamed in the moonlight. The sword the man had clashed against her poker burned just as brightly as his eyes.

He spoke, but the voice wasn't threatening. "It would have taken a lesser lady to run away while screaming."

Equally defiant, she answered, "It would take a lesser gentleman to rob my house while pretending to be a cop." She sure as hell wasn't about to let a burglar sweet-talk her with chivalrous bullshit.

He didn't answer. The man seemed to be taking in her response. Finally, "Remove your weapon. I don't mean harm. I was hired by your father to make rounds on the house." The man paused, and Tokio could see something bobbing in the darkness. A match? A cigarette? He continued, "It impresses me that you can stay awake this long. I'm very impressed."

Still suspicious, Tokio lowered her poker slightly. It sounded true, her father had hired more people to guard the house earlier that day. However, she had been taught to trust no stranger. It was this philosophy that made her father one of the richest in Japan . "I don't know if you are telling the truth, but everything you say makes sense."

"Of course it does. Now go to sleep."

She was a little irritated by the man's tone, but Tokio took the man's sensible advice. The fatigue was starting to speak. "I'll go." There was no point in waiting for her purse to come back anymore; the guards would almost certainly catch the man if he tried to penetrate the defenses. Besides, he would have come already.

"I'll leave you then. Do you wish me to wait until you are in your bed?"

"No..." She yawned, but tried to hide it. "... I think I can make it myself. But thank you for being concerned."

"Very well."

She remembered asking one question before going back to her room. "What is your name?" There was no answer. Maybe the man had already gone back to his rounds. What's the point in him staying if she told him to go? Tokio shrugged, then walked to her bed and went to sleep.

The very first sight that Tokio saw when she woke up was the curtains around her window billowing in the early morning breeze. On top of the windowsill, where she had the night before talked with the hired guard, was a familiar pink embroidered purse. When she dashed out of bed to open it, all the money was still inside. Another slip of paper.

To the lady who doesn't sleep: my name is Saitoh Hajime.

A voice broke her out of her memories. "You dropped this, mother." Tokio whirled around and stared at Eiji, who had a broom in one hand and a washcloth in another. "I didn't know if you wanted it or not, but it was on the ground."

"Oh..." Tokio held her forehead and ran her fingers over one eyebrow. She liked it when he called her mother, but she felt like she was cheating the real mother of this orphan boy. She had insisted that he call her just "Tokio-san", but Eiji also insisted that a mother and son relationship shouldn't be so stiffly formal. He was adamant and said that it would make him happy, because she reminded him of his real mother.

Tokio deferred.

"Thank you, Eiji."

Eiji smiled and ran back to the house, the sword that Saitoh gave him slapping against his side while he jogged. She knew that Hajime was very particular about children, and why he chose this one Tokio had no idea. All she knew was that his parents were killed during the Kuni Tori incident and he was orphaned.

Hajime chose him to take care of me in his absence.

Tokio pledged to be a good mother to the boy. He had done nothing but work since he came because of her illness, but now it was time to repay her debt. She'd give him a good home, great food, and the best family that she could offer.

She opened the door to the bathhouse and took in the deep cedar scent. It was earthy and tangy, and Saitoh insisted that cedar wood should be the only wood to make bathhouses out of. He boasted of its relaxing qualities, and Tokio immediately felt that when she stepped inside.

It was her first time in here. Saitoh had built it during her sickness.

Let me guess, you Gatotsu-ed trees to make this, right?

The grooves in the planks of wood were unmistakable. Tokio sighed and slid into the water. It was hot, but not scalding. She couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a bath like this, and the thought of that almost made her cry. "What have I been missing all these years?" she silently asked herself.

However, Fujita Tokio was not one to stay melancholy for long. "What's past is past, and the present and future lie before me. Thank you for giving me a chance to live again, God."

Past? Present? Future? Was it fate?

Fate?

*****

Remind me not to fall asleep in unexpected places.

After I had contacted Gehenna, I found myself on the floor of the Aoiya, spread out full length. My forehead was throbbing like I had hit it on something, and then I realized that I had hit it on the edge of the table going down. I gingerly reached up and felt it. It was throbbing.

That'll leave a nasty mark...

The extra teacup for Misao in my handhad not cracked. I breathed a silent prayer of thanks to God that no one saw my disastrous fall.

I opened the door to where Misao sat and exclaimed, "Here's the cup!" She was twitching and ready to bolt out the door. Shinomori Aoshi never, ever, exclaimed anything. She still couldn't believe that it was me. Mortals don't know anything about Gehenna, Misao probably just thought that her "Aoshi-sama" had taken one too many hours of meditation and was finally losing it.

"Thank you, Aoshi-sama—"

That reminded me of how much I hated honorifics. "When you talk to me, I don't want you calling me Aoshi-sama." Misao looked confused. "You didn't use to call me Aoshi-sama before."

She shook her head. "But you told me to call you Aoshi-sama." She looked at me, not knowing what to believe, her memory or me. "A long time ago..." she whispered.

I was starting to get frustrated. Not only at the nameless soul, but also at myself. I didn't see any of this coming. "Well, I didn't know what I was saying when I said that. Ignore whatever I told you before. Let's start over." By the look on her face, I think that was the longest strings of words that she'd ever heard come out of my mouth. I held out my hand and grabbed Misao's. She looked ready to faint. "My name is Shinomori Aoshi. Pleased to meet you."

"P-P-Pleased... the p-pleasure's all m-mine..." she stuttered. Her eyes were glued to our hands.

"What's your name?" I asked politely. If Misao and I were going to be reacquainted, this was the best way to do it. I think.

"I-I'm... well, my name is... I'm..."

I tilted my head and shook her hand harder. "You're stuttering. I'd rather know your name."

She managed a tiny smile, one that was born of fear with just a tinge of amusement. The longer I held her hand, the more confidence she seemed to be getting. I seemed to be the only one doing the handshaking, like I was shaking a limp noodle. Now, I felt more and more muscle on her end. Misao's smile grew wider and wider. The dream was real now. "My name is Makimachi Misao. Pleased to meet you."

"That's better, Misao-san. Do you like tea?"

Of course she didn't. She never had. Misao thought it was the vilest substance on earth. She hated the smell, she hated the taste, and she even hated the color. The only reason I could think of that she liked tea was because I liked it.

"I love tea," she answered.

I shuddered. Eat must not have been thinking properly. How in the world can I fix this problem if I didn't even know the girl anymore? I was trying because I love her, but is it going to be enough? I also felt too ashamed to go on. Most souls would keep in contact with their bodies and know what was going on in their interpersonal relationships. When I abandoned my body, I abandoned those too.

"Aoshi, what's wrong?" Even though she said she loved tea, I noticed that she had not taken one sip. Her eyes sparkled with concern.

"There's something I need to tell you."

She set her cup down on the tray with a sharp clink. "What is it?"

I cleared my throat. "I need to leave again."

"Leave again?" she repeated. Her face betrayed no emotion.

I was starting to get scared. My wonderful Misao had been reduced to an unfeeling, mimicking puppet. "I want to go to Kyoto ."

Misao raised hery eebrow. "You are in Kyoto ."

I wanted to slap myself. "I meant Tokyo . You know what I meant, Misao."

"Actually, no I didn't." Misao stood up now, and I could see a faint trace of anger in her features. "I don't know what you mean anymore, Aoshi. Is this the only way you can be nice to me? You invite me in here for tea to tell me you're leaving again? I knew there had to be a catch..."

I was shocked. It only took a simple announcement of a departure to set her over the edge. I certainly didn't mean to do that. "Misao, please, hear me out—"

Her voice was deadly calm, but there was a little bit of growing hysteria mixed in there. "No, you hear me out. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I want you to stop playing with my mind. Just as I was getting over you..." Her lower lip trembled. "Just as I thought you'd never regard my existence again, you pull this!"

"I've always regarded your existence!"

"You could at least try to show it every once in a while!" Her eyes threatened to spill over with tears. "And why are you arguing back? Whenever I yell at you, you just sit there and do nothing! Why are you talking back to me now? Why now? Why?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I would have traded my position as Divinity and all the riches in the world just to be back in the safety of Gehenna. Was the nameless soul before me so used to her outbursts that he would just ignore her completely? Even without outbursts, he would still ignore her?

The bastard. I'm going to have a nice, long talk with him later. I hope he's paying attention now.

"I know... I've changed." It was a weak apology, but it was still something. There had to be something that would reconcile our differences.

Differences that I caused.

No matter who put the blame where, it rested entirely on my shoulders. I was the one who left, I was the one who caused Misao to feel unloved. I would be the one to fix it. I saw it now; she had grown so used to feeling unwanted by the nameless soul that when I finally came out and started paying attention, she thought it was for an ulterior reason.

"I didn't just say that to hurt you, Misao. I get no pleasure from watching you cry. I never have." She deftly flicked away a tear trailing down her face. No matter how much I want to stay with you, which I do, I have work to do in Tokyo ."

This seemed to calm her down, but it wasn't in the intended way. After dabbing her eyes with the tea towel, her eyes grew steely. "Fine then. Leave me again. I don't care anymore." She turned to go, and I saw a tear splash onto the tatami mat.

Misao, I'm so very sorry for doing that to you all those years ago. I promise, I'll make it up to you.

"Wait, get back here this minute, Makimachi Misao. I'm not through with you." I waved my teacup at her as menacingly as I could. "You may be the appointed leader, but I am still older than you." Misao never used to ignore me like this.

She whirled around and glared at me. "You will address me as Okashira. You may be older than me, but I can still command you."

I shook my head at her. At least that reminded me of the old Misao, she always thought she had the upper hand. "When I go to Tokyo , I don't want you following me there. Got it?"

Misao angrily flicked her braid over her shoulder. Her eyes glittered to rival the sun. "I wasn't planning on following you anymore. I'm tired of playing games with you."

"I want your word that you won't follow me."

She didn't answer and tried to stalk out of the room a second time, but I threw a kunai in her direction. Of course, it wasn't meant to hit her, only to stop her. Misao nimbly whipped out a handful of kunai and whirled that hand in front of the screen door. She caught my thrown kunai in between her knuckles before it could touch the canvas. Now, the girl looked tired. "I will not follow you. You have the word of your Okashira. She glared at me one last time. "If you have nothing else, I will leave."

That kunai trick was impressive. I was the one who introduced her to kunai, but I didn't teach anything to her. I left before I could do that. "Now that I have your word that you won't follow me, I want to express a wish of mine."

I knew that even if I got her to agree, she would still follow me anywhere I went. Misao was a woman of her word, but unfortunately, everyone in the Oniwa Banshuu knew exactly what she meant when she gave her "word". She made sure the words were exact. I had a feeling I would catch her behind me on the Tokyo route. She would smile innocently and say, "I wasn't following you; I was just making sure you're all right." Or maybe: "I wanted to go to Tokyo for a short vacation. Just because we happen to be going the same route doesn't mean I'm following you."

See what I mean? Either way, it's inevitable.

Her tone was strictly businesslike while she crossed her arms childishly in front of her. "Express it already." Misao tapped her foot impatiently. "I'm waiting."

This would blow her away. "Instead of following me, I wish for you to accompany me to Tokyo . Just you... and me."

*****

"Señor Battousai, él dijo que esperas pacientemente."

Battousai shook his head. "When he said wait patiently, I don't think he meant for it to be this long. I mean, how am I supposed to know when to do this?"

Soujirou appeared thoughtful. She'd been wondering the same thing herself. With their Divinity gone and the second-in-command trying to find Hajime, how in the world were they supposed to contact the mortal realm. She found herself starting to agree with Battousai.

"I mean, I think that getting there early is better than getting there late, right?"

"¿Dónde?" she asked.

Battousai sighed. "You must not have heard it. Shinomori wants me to go back inside the body of Shinta to comfort Takani Megumi. The dreams might not be enough to help her." He stopped pacing back and forth and stared intently at Soujirou. "I don't want to get there too late."

"¿Gusta Sano-chan mucho?"

Battousai nodded. The little boy really was lovable. Almost everyone who came into contact with him liked him. It pained everyone to think that harm and misfortune would come to him. "Yes, I like him. Who doesn't?"

Soujirou laughed, but it was a hollow laugh with no sentiment behind it. "Señorita Megumi."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want to wait too long. I guess.." Battousai looked repentant. "I just want to make sure we don't mess this up for him. She means the world to him."

"Yo veo."

Soujirou tilted back in her chair and stared at the endless canopy of black overhead. Battousai did the same. There, the two souls sat. And waited. Battousai felt dumb for revealing his feelings to the Fate, after all, there wasn't anything that she could do about. And her lack of response made him feel like he was rambling and she was just agreeing to shut him up.

"Tengo una idea."

This announcement made Battousai recline back to a more alert position. "What is it?"

Soujirou's eyes sparkled. "Nosotros contactarémos a Señor Shinomori. Immediatemente."

In this case, it was easier done than said. Battousai didn't know that the Fate of the Future could have such power in mortal contact. She seemed to travel freely between the two worlds at her own discretion and was silent witness to all the inner workings. Soujirou vanished, and Battousai stood up in alarm, wondering where she had went. After a couple of minutes, she reappeared once again.

"Did you talk to him?"

She nodded. "Convenque Señorita Megumi a ir contigo al bosque cerca de la casa de los Fujitas. En dos días."

"I have to convince her to do that? In two days?" He looked up at the sky as if wondering if it were possible. "I don't think it should be too hard..."

Soujirou flashed him a victory sign and procured a lantern from behind her back. "Venga, hazlo." Battousai immediately recognized it as the same type that Tokio had thrown at Sano-chan. "He wants to you go now," she said in an imperfect form of his language.

Battousai smiled. He knew he would be indebted to this Fate. Bowing humbly in thanks, he walked a good distance away and waved at her. There was no need for words. Soujirou threw the lantern and both watched as it sailed through the air and landed briefly in Battousai's hands. It clattered to the ground and exploded in a burst of fire.

Battousai was gone.

*****

"God, I feel sick."

Never in Battousai's life had he felt so old, useless, and dehumanized. Every muscle in his body felt like it was a pin cushion and the pain in his legs was excruciating. His hands and arms were covered with a white slippery film that seemed to get everywhere he didn't want it to get.

He was hunched over a laundry basin.

"Just my luck," he grumbled. "What kind of twisted person makes the strongest assassin in Japan wash women's undergarments? How degrading."

A sickeningly sweet singsong voice floated over the tranquil dojo scene and coated everything with its syrup. "Keeeeenshiiiin? Are you almost done?"

Battousai had his answer. The twisted person was in fact the wife: Kamiya Kaoru.

He sighed. This was going to be a painfully long two days.