::cracks knuckles:: Alrighty… I've been away from this too long.  Time to update!  I've been so jaded about this fic recently.  Lacking of reviews really does suck.  It's so easy to work on something that other people are actually reading, and I've been struggling with what to do with these last few chapters, so that didn't help.  I got a revitalizing review from Anjali Sahra the other day, though.  Out of nowhere!  I did a dance of happy joy and picked the hammer back up immediately.  Time to forge!  Hehe, cheese.  The plot thickens here!  Watch out for angst and plot foreshadowing!

To Protect: Mask of Peace

            Saya swiped a weary hand across her forehead.  It was hot.  It was horribly, horribly hot.  She sighed and shifted the fabric heaped on her lap to let what little breeze that filtered through the shop brush by her legs.  Summer was quickly fading into the more mild days of fall, but there were still a few heat waves to ride out before the season gave out completely. 

            "How's that coming?" Kashi asked, a bit of tease in her voice as she indicated the rumpled mess on Saya's lap.  Saya grinned at her and shrugged, a sheepish look creeping into her eyes.

            "It's ok," she plucked at an imaginary piece of lint and flushed, "It's nothing compared to your work, but I think I'm doing it justice."

            Kashi hid a smirk behind her hand as she moved behind the counter where Saya sat.  She leaned over the younger woman's shoulder to inspect her work.

            "It's beautiful, Saya," she reassured her friend and then giggled, "You must really like whoever it is you're making it for."

            Saya shot the older girl a glare before her face fell into a helpless smile.  She nodded mutely and returned to her work, fingers moving with deliberate care.  Kashi watched her for a moment before moving back out to the shop floor to tidy up.  The day was almost over and she didn't want to leave all the cleaning to the last minute. 

            A flash of red on the road caught her eye.

            "Mr. Himura!" she cried overly loud, shooting a glance at the startled girl behind the counter before running out to the street to meet him.  Kenshin blinked at her in surprise before his usual smile appeared.  Kashi beamed back at him, leading him into the shop slowly, stretching out the greetings and pleasantries as much as she could without being too obvious.  By the time they reached the doorway, Saya was in the back of the shop, broom in hand, doing battle with a dust bunny in the corner.

            "Ms. Saya, I'm here to pick you up," Kenshin announced as they entered.  Kashi moved behind the counter, shielding the hastily bundled pile of silk that was tucked in one of the alcoves that held finished commissions. 

            "Oh, Kenshin, you're early," Saya turned around, smile a bit too bright.  Kashi bit back a sigh.  If there was one thing Saya wasn't, it was a convincing liar.  Still, she couldn't blame her for being put off guard.  The younger girl had confided just last week that the longer the rurouni stayed with them the less often she got feelings about him.  Kashi had teased her about being blinded by love, but let the subject drop when her friend's face had paled. 

            "Well, since I'd hate to make Mr. Himura wait," she filled in the awkward silence smoothly, "I guess I'll let you go home now," then, letting mischief get the better of her, "If you hurry you can catch the sunset by the lake," she smiled serenely at Saya's slightly pale face. 

            "Thanks, Kashi," Saya returned, voice tight.  Suddenly a suspiciously innocent smile brightened her features, "Perhaps I'll see Mr. Matsumoto there.  I'll be sure to tell him you say hello."

            Kashi gave her a half hearted glare before sighing in defeat, "Oh, just get out of here," she shooed the couple from the shop grumpily.  Saya smirked at the flustered woman and gave her a broad wink.  Kashi's nose wrinkled in a frown, but she couldn't help the laughter that tumbled out afterwards.

            "I'll see you tomorrow," Saya called over her shoulder as she and Kenshin hurried away.  Kashi waved goodbye and sighed as she watched her best friend turn to the man beside her.  No, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the strange little darling of the village had finally fallen in love.

            "How was your day?" Kenshin inquired as they strolled companionably down the street. 

            Saya shrugged, a small grin plastered on her face, "It was fine.  Nothing out of the ordinary," her voice was light and distracted.  Kenshin watched her profile for a moment before returning his gaze to the road with a small "ah."  She was particularly distant today.  This morning she'd tried to pour soy sauce into her tea.  Kenshin's admirable reflexes had been only thing that saved her from a sodium rich breakfast.  He sighed lightly, letting his concern nag at him a little longer before he gentle tucked it away.  No one seemed concerned when she had days like this.  When questioned, her uncle had given a helpless shrug, saying that it was just one of the many quirks that made her Saya.  Kenshin couldn't argue with that.  Even though they bothered him because he didn't know what caused them, her spacey days were usually endearing.  Her distraction made her less concerned with proper appearances and she was usually quite playful.  The village children seemed to know as they usually showed up in greater numbers on those days.

            "There it is," the satisfaction in her voice brought Kenshin from his musings.  He turned to ask what "it" was and discovered air where only moments before a young woman had stood.

            "Oro," he murmured resignedly as he followed her already distant form down towards the lake.

            "Hisato!" her stern voice drew the attention of a small group of children standing by the bank.  Kenshin slowed as she strode forward purposefully, arms swinging with determination.  He couldn't help but feel sorry for the young boy who stepped forward to acknowledge the summons.

            "Good evening, Ms. Saya," he bowed nervously, "How are you?"

            "Don't try and sweet talk me, sir," she wagged a finger in his face, "you know perfectly well that you'll scare poor Ayako to death."

            Kenshin tried to ignore the randomness of the statement.  Her conversations with people on these days were usually fragmented, but this was especially strange.  He knew the little girl she was referring to and she wasn't currently present in the group of youngsters.

            "It's just a little bit of fun, Saya," Hisato pouted suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest.  The rest of the group murmured softly in agreement.  They subsided at the angry glare she gave them.

            "This is pushing fun, and you know it," she returned, "I'll overlook your pranks sometimes, but not when you take them this far."

            The young crowd didn't seem convinced by her words.  Saya sighed then, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was getting a headache.

            "Did you stop to think about Eiko?  They sleep in the same room, you know," her voice was definitely sounding strained.  Kenshin moved closer to her, concerned by the sudden fatigue he saw in her profile.

            "What about her?" the boy scoffed, but his attention was suddenly razor sharp.

            "She has a weak heart, Hisato," Saya reminded him softly.  The children stilled at her words and looked solemn.  Hisato quickly reassured the older girl that they wouldn't do anything.  After quiet farewells, the group dispersed and wandered back to their respective homes.  Saya watched as the last child moved out of sight before slumping to her knees. 

            Kenshin knelt quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright, Ms. Saya?"

            Saya smiled at him reassuringly, "Yes, I'm fine.  I just need a little rest before we go back.  I really had to focus for the last part, but I didn't think they'd listen to me if I didn't."

            "Ah," he trailed off, trying to sound like he understood.  Saya turned sympathetic eyes on him, the corners of her mouth quirking slightly.

            "I suppose I should get around to telling you eventually," she conceded, "After all, you've been here for," she trailed off, calculating, "three months?"

            "About," he agreed, wondering at the sudden decision.  He didn't doubt that she was about to explain her secret to him, but wondered at the timing. 

            "They were going to sneak into Ayako's house tonight and pour snakes and toads onto her bed," she said suddenly, nodding her head to where the children had just vanished.  She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.  Kenshin smiled slightly, reminded of the first time he'd met her here.  It hadn't been that long ago, but at the same time years could have passed. 

            "I…" she frowned, "this is hard to explain," the grumble was good natured and Kenshin smiled.

            "Please, take your time," he reassured her gently.

            Saya flashed him a dazzling smile before returning her gaze to the lake. 

            "I guess you could call it divining the future," she said slowly, "but it's not like fortune telling.  I just get… feelings about what might happen.  And it isn't just predictions.  I can also read people very well.  People close to me have a hard time lying, and I can spot a dangerous character a mile off, no matter how charming he is," the scowl on her face suggested that something like that had happened before.

            Kenshin's eyebrows rose dramatically, disappearing into his hairline, "Oro?!  Then," he blinked, "is that how you knew I was coming?  And how you seemed to know so much about me?"

            Saya nodded brightly, "You were like an open book, rurouni of mine," she chuckled.  Kenshin's grin turned floppy as he rubbed the back of his neck.

            "That's…" he stopped suddenly, something tugging at his memory.  Staring into Saya's face he blinked as another seemed to overlay it.  Where had he heard of this type of talent before?

            "How did this come about?" he asked cautiously, wondering if his vague memories were correct.

            Saya shrugged, "Inherited, I guess.  My mother had the same talent, though its trigger was different," she trailed off pensively, "The revolutionaries used her to spot traitors and to predict and plan assassinations."

            Kenshin's head snapped up.  The image of a woman with the same careless hair and arresting eyes as his young companion flashed through his mind. 

            "He'll be at the inn, Himura," she murmured as she sipped tea, "two hours past midnight."

            "That's not what his pattern suggests," he argued softly from the booth behind her.  They sat with their backs to each other, neither acknowledging the other's presence.

            "Trust me," she whispered, "I can feel these things.  He'll be there."

              "-came to test me, but left me alone when they figured out I was useless," Saya was saying.  Kenshin shook off the past and struggled to recall what she'd been saying.

            "The talent is fickle, I guess.  She and my father were both fanatically loyal to the revolutionary cause, so she had no trouble feeling things from strangers as long as it concerned her ideals.  I'm a softy at heart, I'm afraid," she laughed, "if I don't have any emotional ties to a person I can't feel one thing about them."

            Kenshin blinked again, "But you said you can pick out dishonest people," he pointed out, confused.

            Saya paled and seemed to draw into herself, "That's because of the other talent I have," she said quietly, "the one I inherited from my father."

            A chill breeze blew past them and Kenshin felt himself shiver involuntarily.  He stilled instantly, eyes narrowing with concentration at the young girl beside him.  It had been awhile since he'd felt a premonition like that.

            "What talent is that?" he forced his voice to be light.

            Saya turned haunted eyes on him, "The power to protect," she said simply.

            Kenshin again felt himself thrown into the past.  There had been rumors of a man with demon-like skill; the primary bodyguard of any traveling leader of the revolutionary movement.

            "You don't seem to like that talent," he observed, setting his words down like delicate glass on marble. 

            She shook her head, an almost bitter sounding laugh rumbling from her chest, "Sometimes you can want to protect too much.  That was how my father died.  He would do anything to protect his ideals, even throw himself into battle with almost two hundred men."

            "We lost Taka today," Katsura informed him softly, mouth set in a grim line, "Now that both he and his wife are gone, it's only a matter of time before we start dropping like flies."

            "Sir?" he'd murmured, not quite understanding.

            "Don't worry about it, Himura.  I already put too much on you.  And perhaps it's not so bleak as it appears.  I sent a man to find their daughter.  She might be able to step in to fill both roles her parents played… though if my sources are correct, she's far too young to be of any help now, if she even has their talents.  We can shield her, though, until there might be a day when she can help us," he'd smiled at Kenshin then, the strain of everything they were fighting for lying heavily on his face.  

            At a loss for words, Kenshin could only nod.

            "I knew your parents," Kenshin said suddenly.  Saya raised her head, eyes taking on a spark of life. 

            "You did?!" she asked excitedly, pouncing on his arm.

            "Ahh," he nodded, taken aback by the sudden death grip, "Not very well.  I met your mother a few times, and only briefly, and I had heard a lot about your father.  We all worked in the same circle of the revolution," he explained.

            Saya's eyes widened, "You must have been high up in the ranks if you worked with them.  The soldier who came to test me said they were some of the most important people of the revolution."

            He nodded.  Now that he remembered, it was easy to see the resemblance between the mysterious woman he knew in the revolution and this younger, burdenless girl. 

            Burdenless?

            Kenshin blinked slowly, watching Saya's body language as she stared up at him.  Her eyes told him so much.  Told him that there was far more sorrow in the daughter's heart than in the mother's. 

            "Saya," he started, wanting an answer for all the things she was deliberately not saying.  He'd wanted to know her secret, and suddenly it was painfully obvious that she'd hadn't told him anything he'd wanted to know.

            "What about you?" she asked suddenly, stilling his questions, "What does this mean?" she stroked a finger down the line of his scar.  Kenshin felt his breath hitch.  He watched as emotions flooded her face.  Love, hate, betrayal, anguish.  They weren't her emotions, though.  She was reading his past through that simple touch.  Reaching beyond the barriers of time and the mask of peace he wore to find the man he'd been. 

            He couldn't lie to her, even if he wanted to.  With a bitter smile he realized that it was his own fault they were in this position.  Suddenly, knowing her secret didn't seem so important if this was the cost. 

            "My wife," he explained, catching her hand and trailing her fingertips over the horizontal stripe, "And her first love," now vertical.

            "Dead," she whispered dully. 

            Kenshin closed his eyes and nodded, letting her hand fall back to her lap. 

            "In the revolution I did not go by this name… I was called the Hitokiri Battousai."

            The wind was cold, he told himself.  It wasn't necessarily his admission that made her shiver. 

            Her eyes were haunted with the emotions that had spilled from him into her soul.  He didn't have to tell her what he'd been, what he'd done.  She could feel every event simply by reaching out to him with her talent.  So this was how she could already have so much weight on her heart.  To know every sadness and joy of those close to you… A stranger's pain was devastating enough, but to feel the double lash of a friend's anguish on top of the empathy you felt for them…

            "Kenshin," she flung her arms around him in a bone crushing hug. 

            "Oro!" he fell back on his elbows with the impact, "M-Ms. Saya?!" he stared at the dark head pressed to his chest in complete shock.  She raised her eyes to look at him then, tears running down her face and spilling into a mouth stretched in… a smile?

            "Are you… okay?" he asked, completely bewildered.

            "I'm glad you told me," she said simply.

            "I can leave tonight, if you wish," he reassured her, still puzzled by her reaction.  Didn't she want him gone?  Who in their right mind would want the dreaded Battousai living under their roof?

            "Don't be an idiot, Kenshin," she frowned.

            Apparently she did.

            "Oroooo," he wailed morosely.  If anything, he understood her even less now. 

            "What are you so flustered about?" she demanded, sitting back and pulling him up in one movement.

            "I'm Battousai.  Maybe you haven't heard of me before?" he speculated.

            She rolled her eyes, "Of course I've heard of the Battousai.  Who hasn't?" she shook her head and thrust a finger at the sword on his hip, "What's that?"

            He blinked at the sword, wondering at the strange jump in logic, "My sword."

            "More specifically, your reverse-blade sword.  The sword you told me a wanderer used because he had no need for a sword made for killing."

            Kenshin nodded slowly, "You don't care that I was once the Battousai?" he asked doubtfully, but a note of reluctant hope snuck its way into the question.

            A slow smile spread across her face, "I know who you were, Kenshin," she said softly, "But I also know who you are… and truthfully, there was a lot of rurouni hidden in the Battousai.  You protect.  Then, and now.  You just used a different tool for each era.  The revolution needed a merciless sword, and now the Meiji needs the reverse-blade.  There is no shame in either in my mind," she stopped abruptly.

            "Saya?" Kenshin asked cautiously.

            Her eyes unfocused and she smiled at him again.  It wasn't one of her bright, carefree smiles, though.  Kenshin reached out a tentative hand, placing it on her shoulder.

            "Saya, are you alright?" he asked, alarmed by the complete desolation written across her features.

            She shuddered then, blinking slowly as she returned to herself.

            "There is no shame in either in my mind," she repeated softly as if nothing had happened, "even if there is in yours."

            "What happened?" he asked sharply.  Her expression was light again, but he was slowly realizing that she was just as adept at pasting on brainless smiles as he was.

            She stood, brushing grass and leaves from her kimono, "Don't worry about it, Kenshin," she shook her head and offered him a hand up.  He took it reluctantly.  There were too many questions left unanswered. 

            "Another day," she promised his unspoken demand, "Let's just go home for now."

            He sighed in defeat.  It had been a rough evening so far.  Maybe they did need a rest before she revealed whatever it was that shadowed her heart in dull grays.

            "Race you," she challenged, already gathering her sandals in one hand and the bottom of her kimono in the other.

            "Oro," he stared at her blankly for a moment before realizing that she was already halfway up the hill.  He watched her go, an irresistible smile breaking across his face. 

            She dealt with it well.  Amazingly well.  It was more than just burying the feelings, it was a complete acceptance of their import… and then a quick toss to the wind.

            He hurried to catch up.

::panting:: Yikes, this chapter was long.  Well… by my standards ^_^ Ahhhh, I am so happy!  From here on out everything is crystal clear in my little ol' head.  Maybe two more chapters to go, three at most. 

Saya's power to feel things intrigues me.  It's very nebulous.  I don't even know exactly how it works.  Sometimes she can pick up thoughts, memories, emotions, premonitions of the future… just whatever her whacked out little head happens to stumble across.  Heh.  Do you see the foreshadowing?  There's a ton of it.  I tried to tone it down, though.  The original version practically screamed what was going to happen.  Now it's deducible, but not so glaringly obvious. 

Weee!  No one reads this!!!  Hehe.  I think the new Kenshin fic I'm working on will be much more popular.  But a big hearty thanks to Anjali Sahra, Lady E, Taye, Rook, and DeAth-TeNShI for my lovely reviews!!!