Ciao!!!

Phew! First week of school is over, and I'm still alive. I have to get used to reducing my sleeping time again... but what am I bothering you with mindless ramble when you have a story to read? *grins* Here it goes... oh, and just one warning: this is once again dialogue-heavy... but enjoy!


"…." Denotes talking

….. denotes thinking

*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place

Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.

Chapter 11

Transparency

Okina tried to push himself upright again from where he had crashed into the low shelf. His arms trembled wanting to support the weight of his body but simply unable to do so because of the six deep slashes Aoshi's sword had left across his torso. He panted in short, labored gasps as though the oxygen level in the air had dropped significantly while at the same time looking in horror from Aoshi to the new arrival to Aoshi again. Of all the things ha had expected to happen, this was the one confrontation he had wanted to avoid since his talk with Himura had alerted him to his 'granddaughter's' true nature.

Misao was standing wide-eyed at the door, her body rigid and motionless except for the tears falling from incredulous, turquoise eyes. Their steady stream of liquid diamonds on pale cheeks was as silent as the tall man she had fixed her eyes upon- the tall man in a Regime uniform splattered with the blood of the friendly grandfather who had taken her in when she didn't know where to turn to. She wished nothing more than to fixate her gaze onto those kind, translucent ice-blue eyes of her leader, her teacher, her love, but all her horrified eyes met was the clouded, polluted look of a madman posing as her heart's desire.

"Aoshi-sama...." she whispered tonelessly, the tears still falling freely, leaving behind a steady, tinkling sound when they dropped onto the hard floor.

The twin swords were calmly sheathed in their one, long saya, then the face obscured by his wild bangs turned o her, his eyes seeing her, truly seeing her for the first time.

"Misao!" Okina rasped from his prone position, having slid to the floor with a thunk. She was still frozen, inside and out, even though the thawing process had obviously begun- her whole body was trembling from a force within. Disbelievingly, she tried to get a grasp on herself, on what she saw, to shake the surreal feeling off, to get back to reality where Jiya wasn't hurt and Aoshi-sama came to greet her with a smile.

"Aoshi-sama..." her whisper grew more insistent, but was only greeted with roaring silence on his part.

"I didn't want to see you ever again," he stated, flicking the sleeve of his uniform to get rid of the drops of sticky red blood that still clung to it. Their graceful, arcing flight was left unobserved as a heart broke into a million pieces of shattered glass, each piercing the remains with brilliant agony.

"Aoshi-sama..." it had grown a sobbing whisper, a prayer for salvation, the cry of a child begging to be held so the nightmare might leave.

"You will not contact me." He left, brushing past her like a shadowy phantom, an illusion too fleeting to be caught. She was transfixed, gradually, as if in slow motion, dropping to her knees and burying her face in hands that shook so violently she couldn't hold it in them.

"AOSHI-SAMA!!!" The cry tore itself from her bleeding heart, bursting outward with the strength of fragmented feelings on the aftermath of implosion. She fell, curling into a small ball, forgetting the world as it contracted into one small ball of desolation tightly wrapped around her. The tears had stopped falling, frozen in their tracks when her soul had been torn.

"Misao..." She didn't feel Okina's hand touching her, didn't see the tightening of his face, the wetness in his eyes. She was lost within herself, and for once she didn't want to find the will to continue on, to overcome her grief with happiness. For once, she wallowed in self-pity, a small, insignificant particle in a world suddenly too transparent and too large for her.

The man she called her grandfather left her to mourn, grimacing when moving put s strain on his wounds. He'd had worse, however, and thanks to Misao's timely intervention nothing else had happened to him. He had honestly thought he would be able to put up a better fight than that, but Aoshi had been training while he had run a small people-smuggling operation in the middle of nowhere.

It shouldn't have been. But now, I must find a way to eliminate you, Shinomori Aoshi. You have sided with the enemy, have lost yourself, have lost what the Oniwabanshu meant, have lost focus. You are nothing but a killing machine now- like the assassins you so despised when you were younger. It is my duty to relieve you of this misery, and since I can't do it with my own hands, I have to find someone who can. His steps were slowly, but surely as he opened the doors to the two sparkling clean spare rooms he would offer the officers. He couldn't send Aoshi away- he would have to live with the threat. It should be fine- as long as he didn't allow Aoshi to catch him alone ever again.

"Your rooms are prepared, gentlemen." Okina's breathing was harsh, he leaned against the doorframe for support, and Saito's sharp eye caught the six long rips in the dark fabric of the plain, linen shirt the old man wore. On first glance it looked merely wet, but then the wolf had never only used one sense. Tangy, salty, a hint of rust, a pinch of sugary sweetness- that was the scent of blood. And sure enough- on the uniform of his companion who was leaning against the wall in the shadows Saito found confirmation.

"So he needed persuasion after all?" Saito asked, already knowing the answer and not expecting his fellow officer to answer. Shrugging offhandedly, he followed Okina and Aoshi into the house, careful to study his surroundings in enough detail so he could use them to his advantage should they be ambushed. In the analytical mind of Saito Hajime the fact that one was ambushed didn't count as dishonor, but the fact that one was ambushed, didn't know what to do and let the assailants escape did. It had, as of yet, never happened to him- and it never would if he had a say in the matter.

Narrow hallways and high ceilings dominated the farmhouse, the timber framing that lent its walls sturdiness visible through the freshly applied whitewash that still emitted its peculiar smell of wet chalk cliffs on a caliginous day. The house was well kept, the occasional speck of dirt on the otherwise clean-swept floor attesting to the profession of its inhabitants. Farming, after all, wasn't the cleanest of jobs... and farmers couldn't be perfectly groomed all day. Apparently they also didn't have enough money to heat their house all day, Saito noticed as the chill spread through the fabric of his uniform. He had left his coat at the entrance, out of politeness and because he didn't want anyone to think Regime officers were careless pigs like their Agency counterparts. Now, he regretted it.

"What is behind this door?" he asked, momentarily forgetting his discomfort as he pointed to the sturdy oakwood frame and leaf. Okina looked startled, breaking his stride and swaying on his feet. A thin sheen of sweat coated the old man's brow underneath his tangled and matted white hair that had been so meticulously kempt the first time Saito had set eyes on him.

"Only the living room. Misao is in there at the moment." He spoke in short gasps, carefully pressing one arm onto his chest. Saito nodded wordlessly. "Continue," he said. Misao was that little girl of Okina's, he had no desire to have another conversation with the weasel.

Behind the door Misao listened to the soft footsteps of the three men passing by, stopping, talking about her and continuing on with cool detachedness. She was feeling hollow inside- but in the course of the last few minutes she had realized one important thing: if she ever wanted to fill up hat hollowness again she had to act. Shaking off her stupor and wincing at the minor cramps her muscles had acquired during the minutes lying motionless on a cold, hardwood floor she stood up, eyes shining with new determination. Makimachi Misao, aged 16, often happy-go-lucky and sunshiny, had just taken an important step towards adulthood.

Down beneath the barn, the eight fugitives were sitting close to each other in tight apprehension. Even though Okina had assured them they were as safe as could be, in the dark vestiges of the human mind the shadow of doubt is ever present, and in dark times it takes a lot not to give it even more room. It is said the human soul is viewed clearest when it is obscured from the owner, partly, this saying was true.

Kenshin leaned stiffly against the wall, the chairs, sofa and beds taken up by his traveling companions. He was feeling much better already, rested for the first time in weeks, his stomach full of warm, rich food that sent warmth spreading through his limbs. Still, he could sense that it would probably take a day or two until he had his full strength back, his injuries, though cared for with sterile materials and salves to soothe the aches slowing him down- imperceptible to most but too obvious to himself. The yellow patina of aging linoleum that made up the floor of their hideout was studied closely as his long, slender fingers traced its lines studiously and diligently. Sometimes, he felt as though he was so much older than his years that people like Kaoru seemed a lifetime away. His guilt weighing down on him, his dreams torturing him, his eyes having seen to much, his mind unable to forget... it had shaped him, made him into what he was, but he couldn't escape its grasp, couldn't even once let go of the past, because in the next moment it would stare him into the eye in the face of a child who had lost its father, or a woman bearing the long, black hair of his fiancée. If he could have one wish, only one wish he could use only for himself- it would be to wish for the ability to forget.

They always envy me my memory... I would gladly give it away if it meant I could live a normal life. But his life had been doomed to abnormality the moment he was born. Then again the moment he was picked up by a strange, large, dark-haired man who took him in, and all over again when he had, in remembrance of his past, left this very man and had offered his services to the Agency. The final blow to any semblance of normalcy had been the death of the one woman he loved- the one woman whose reputation had been destroyed when she died, leaving him with nothing but bitter memories and pictures of times when he had seen happiness float just outside his reach.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru had come over, carrying a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. He smiled at her touch and looked up from his absent tracing of the lines on cracked linoleum. Her eyes, deep, clear blue of a fresh, unfathomable natural spring, met his, giving his troubled thoughts a moment's respite as he happily allowed himself to get lost in their depths.

"Thank you, Miss Kaoru.," he said. She went back to her chair, hesitant and with a slight limp in her stride. Kenshin frowned. She had injured herself and had not told him? His temper flared up, strained under the weight of his thoughts and the oppressing comfort of the room. All these people, so close to each other yet separated by more than distance, aware of their fate yet afraid of the consequences of their actions, hypocritical pseudo-relaxation... He gazed at Kaoru's long hair, blue highlights dancing in the midnight strands that lent her an air of tragedy, supreme desolation, forlornness.

"I have been thinking," she suddenly spoke up, even before she had settled down in her chair again, "I have been remembering what has been before the Camp. These farm people reminded me of some of my neighbors... although these neighbors were not as friendly." She chuckled dryly. The tension in the air dropped several degrees, breathing became so much easier at once and somehow everyone assumed it was storytelling-time so they snuggled closer together- Megumi allowing Sano to put an arm around her shoulders, as Kenshin noted with astonishment- and made themselves more comfortable. Kenshin kept his eyes on Kaoru, who sat there with a faraway look on her face, dreamily recounting her past as her hands fingered glistening raven hair. She spoke softly, as close to a whisper as she could get without losing her voice, in chopped, short bits of speech interspersed by pregnant pauses, but her tale was enrapturing enough to captivate her audience in spite of her imperfect rhetoric.

"I guess I was a Daddy's girl- my mother had died before I turned five, so there really was noone else. But he was all I needed... my friend, my teacher, and my father. I was happy when I was with him and waiting for him when he wasn't there, which was quite often considering he was one of the most open voices against the Regime. He was no rebel- he just didn't share their views on many things. It was well-known fact in our town... and the reason why all except those who took kendo lessons from him or me shunned us. I didn't mind the strange looks at the market- I was a girl who could fend for herself and had someone o back her up.

When I was fourteen, he began telling me stories about a war, fairytales of countries where people didn't have to cower in fear for expressing their opinions and where one was free to decide whom to greet and in which way. Countries where there was no military police patrolling the streets and it wasn't the rule of the strongest that dominated life. He explained to me what the word 'freedom' meant- and I didn't believe him when he said he wanted to make it at home in our country as well. I laughed at him at that time- but he only looked at me and said that with time I'd understand. Three years later, I still hadn't understood but I had grown to love these fairytales. I even questioned him for more, and he told me of the brave heroes... and the dangerous men." She shot Kenshin an apologetic look. "Men like the one called Battousai." Here she stopped, catching her breath, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears she fought down before continuing.

"One day, about four weeks ago, the Regime decided Father was too dangerous to be left uncontrolled and free. When the soldiers stormed the dojo- in the evening, after our students had gone home- he pushed me into the small chamber where we kept our bokken and shinai. I couldn't see a thing, but I heard... it took a long time for them to get him. I... I was sitting there, in the darkness, listening to the screams and... imagining things until... until they were all silent. Then this one voice spoke... he said to get me.

I didn't fight- I couldn't fight. They took me away from my home, they burned the dojo down when they had left with me, but I didn't even see that. All I could see was my father, and he was lying there, so still... one part here, one part there... all torn... and so still..." she trailed off, shivering and shuddering under the weight of her memories. Her heart clamped down on the despair that wanted to invade her thoughts and her voice, and she spoke on to stave off the onslaught of the sounds, the smells, the burning fire inside her mind.

"They questioned me on what he had done. I didn't know. He had told me stories, that was all. I never thought those stories were true, I said, although I had. To ban the stories, to never let them escape and reach other ears they brought me to the Camp. But I wasn't going to give up. My father... he wouldn't want me to give up and I haven't. So here I am... and I am glad I didn't give up because... because I am here and... and..." she broke down, finally giving in to the flood that thrashed against the dams in her heart, and she cried.

Silence reigned. They hadn't known the story behind the spunky, fiery little girl, and now that they did they weren't any wiser. "Missy..." Sano said, at a loss. Megumi slipped away from him and held the crying girl in her arms.

"Just cry... it's alright to cry..." she said, softly rocking the heaving form of the younger girl. Kaoru sniffled, trying to close the floodgates that had broken open.

"I have never talked about this..." she cried, her voice cracking under the strain. "I know," was the answer the doctor gave her, holding her tighter.

Kenshin envied Megumi this moment. How much would he have loved to hold Kaoru himself, to let her bury her face in his chest, to be the one to wipe away her tears. But all he could do was to stand behind her, a reassuring presence, and to apologize. He knew it was partly his fault her father had to die, he had maintained contact with him over the period of a few months before and after the whole Paris fiasco...

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words more heartfelt than ever before, "I'm so sorry, that I am. I should... I should have warned your father, and I shouldn't have asked of him that he send the Agency information about the Regime, that I should. I was a contact of his..." Kaoru whimpered, wriggling out of Megumi's embrace and looking at him with teary, clear eyes that allowed him to see into the depths of her soul- see the fears she harbored, the pain she bore, and the forgiveness and love for all that was around her that coated the harsh and bitter emotions in a sweet mantle and made them bearable for her. She was strong, he thought again, so much stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

"It's not your fault," she said, lowering her gaze and wiping the last tears from her eyes, "and I'm certain Father wouldn't want me to cry like this. He always taught me to follow my heart, and I will, just as he followed his." She smiled, a sight more beautiful than anything he had seen before. To be able to smile through the darkness of one's heart... to see the good in every evil... he could never hope to be that strong. She overcame her darkness- his lurked behind a transparent shield of glass ready to break out every second.

"My parents were murdered. I didn't want to stay in the orphanage and ran away whenever I could. So they put me into the Camp- to make me a 'useful citizen'." Yahiko spat, unable to bear the tearful atmosphere any longer. "See, Busu, you're not the only one here."

"We didn't even know why we were sent into the Camp- until the guards told us our restaurant had been a popular meeting place for dissenters," Tae said.

"I am one of the Sekihoutai," Sano offered, leaning back against the sofa, a straw in the corner of his mouth. His eyes glinted dangerously as he continued. "At first we supported the Regime, we thought they were all for the 'small people' and such... but then they turned their back on us when we didn't want to become an official squadron under their officers' command... we had our own commander, my uncle, Sagara Souzo. He died when the Regime suddenly decided we were rebels for not wanting to surrender command. I was thirteen, and I lived. I fought on the streets- beat up people for money, yes, Foxy," his voice was heavily laced with sarcasm when he concluded his tale, "they sent a whole squad after me- 'protection of innocent civilians' they called it. I woke up with one hell of a headache and was in Camp Freedom. Anyone else want to share their life-story?"

Nobody volunteered. The story of the Sekihoutai was well known in and out of the Regime, despite the efforts to just file it under the 'unconfirmed rumors' section. It hadn't really sounded believable, however- what government would do away with two hundred able soldiers? At least no government in their right mind. Insanity in the Regime had just gone up a notch now that they knew an actual survivor of the tragedy...

"I knew about the Sekihoutai- I fought against some of them when they guarded one of my targets," Kenshin finally said in a low voice, so quiet the others had t strain their ears to catch his words. "They were brave, and for normal soldiers they were incredibly well-trained and clever enough to follow their instincts. This was short before... short before an assignment in Paris."

"Paris? The city of love... is it true that the lights of Paris make women more supple and men more poetic?" Sae asked. Kenshin sighed.

"To me it seemed so. But all I got from there were a few scars and my weapon." And more memories than I want to share at the moment, he added silently.

"That Sakabatou-thing?" Yahiko perked up, suddenly interested again after the adults had gotten over their mushiness.

"Yes...I got that Sakabatou-thing, that I did... It was given to me by the man who owned our base for that mission. He was an antique dealer, and he said he had no use for it, however, I might. He said it was around a hundred years old and came from Japan. I took it, but I didn't use it at that time. Actually, I have only started using it four months ago."

"And now you're here with us, stuck underground a barn and don't know what's going on above." Megumi deadpanned.

"I know only a little of what's going on above, that I do. There are around thirty soldiers in total, and they have been quartered in the barn, that they have. We can't go up there, that we can't," Kenshin replied.

"How do you know that?" Yahiko inquired nosily.

"I have heard them arrive- you certainly noticed the pounding sounds in the walls too, that you did. They were hooves, that they were, and if you listened carefully you could have estimated how many there are as well, that you could. And now that they're closer I can sense them a little, that I can- even though they are too far away to say more, that they are." He smiled brightly, aiming to lighten the gloomy mood again.

"That's just plain creepy, you know," Sano said shooting him an incredulous look. "Do you think that Saito character is with them?"

"I assume so, that I do... he will chase me... but if he catches us, you have to run and lead the others- he will only fight me, that he will."

"Hn." Sano snorted, throwing a glance at the frail-looking agent who leaned on Kaoru's chair, his head resting on his palms as violet eyes ponderingly gazed into the distance. "You don't look like you'd survive a second in his company. Let Foxy be the leader- I'm gonna be with you." The agent didn't answer, but the hard look on his face and the velvety steel touch in his eyes told them all what he thought about Sano's proposition.

"Let's not think about this now, alright?" Kaoru sighed wearily, her emotions run dry and her heart too raw to bear another flare of tempers.

*~*

Katsura was seated in his office at the Agency, the large oak desk in front of him covered by papers, briefs, mission reports, urgent messages and things nobody wanted to do so they went to the boss. It was the irony of working in a government-run operation- the one in charge always got the most undesirable jobs, the most heavy workload, the most exposure to the scalding tongues of public opinion and was always held personally responsible for everything that went wrong even if he had nothing to do with it. And from the way it looked, a lot of things had gone wrong. Why else would his second-in-command, a man who had been with the Agency as long as he had stand before him, sweating and panting after having rushed to bring him news? Yamagata was not a good field agent, but he knew how to discern important from unimportant things and had a knack for running an administration. For him to be that flustered… the information he carried had to be terribly important and horribly bad. And it was. Incredulously, Katsura listened to the words read to him, revealing a plot he couldn't ever have thought of.

"Yamagata, where did you come across this information?" he asked, worry tingeing his voice with a slightly metallic rasp. His large, strong hands nervously battered on the meanders in the texture of the wood beneath its protective varnish, the rhythm's speed astonishing.

"It was sent to me from our reliable undercover contact within the Regime, codename 'the Wolf'. As it is, he knows Battousai has infiltrated their territory, and he says that if he knows then the Pharaoh knows as well since the Wolf was in his entourage."

"The Pharaoh… the leader of the entire Regime forces, military genius and the one we were after for so long- has he slipped through our fingers again?"

"It seems he has- he has not taken up pursuit of Battousai's group of fugitives. Instead, the Wolf says, he awaits his and his companion's return at Camp Freedom. But there is a chance to get him, Sir. Battousai has to go back to the Camp."

"I can't risk that. Himura has his mission to bring Agent Takani back to safety, and now he has responsibility for a large group of people. I can't order him to return them to the Camp. He would not comply."

"Then tell him to let them cross the border to safety, where our people wait to take them away, but order him to allow himself to be captured. Battousai will most likely do that- he has a score to settle with the Pharaoh."

"I know he has- and that's what I am afraid of. I am sure you remember Hiko Seijurou, Yamagata? My one-time partner and the one who was supposed to have this job I have now? I'm sure Hiko Seijurou would have your hide- and mine, by the way- if we put Himura in danger any more than he already is. Ad should we pit him against the Pharaoh without thorough briefing… I'd rather not think of it."

"The we'll send a carrier pigeon to where Battousai is now- I know we can reach him, don't deny it- and give him this information we now have on our hands and suggest he lead his group to safety and go after the Pharaoh himself. This way, it would be Himura Battousai's decision. And he would have his briefing."

"I don't like to waste the life of my agents… and I would especially hate to lose Himura. We already almost lost him to madness after Paris- if he meets the Pharaoh again he might just succumb to it."

"But this is a risk we have to take. Once the Pharaoh is taken care of the stability of the Regime will be severely endangered- he holds too many secrets and makes too many decisions to make his death a simple act of changing one military leader against the other. Regime officials, especially Hoji, depend on his iron hand to keep the people under control. He has no commanding officers who could take his position since he has always tried to make himself invaluable. If he falls, the Regime will fall as well. When we tell Battousai that- he will certainly do his best."

"I still don't like it," Katsura murmured, the fervent drumming of his fingers that had given the conversation a desperate pace having finally stopped, "but I agree it is the best chance we've had in years. Perhaps, that blister on the world's face called the Regime will finally vanish now. Send the message."

His heart heavy, he watched Yamagata's face turn to eager expectation. "Battousai will not fail us, he never has," he said before nodding to Katsura and leaving.

"Wait!" Katsura shouted just before Yamagata could walk out the door. The Agency's second-in-command halted his steps and turned around. "Tell Himura everything we have just talked about, include a copy of the Wolf's message and also of the possible outcome of his mission. But also write that he should rest for at least four days before leaving again, and that he should not face the Pharaoh if he isn't at the peak of his abilities. Just write it. And tell him the Agency awaits his return." Yamagata nodded, not quite understanding why Katsura would want to include things that normal common sense could see clearly. He would do as ordered anyways. Sometimes the most transparent ploys were the hardest to get after all.

*~*

The soldiers and officers had left the farm except for a small guard of three men currently lounging in the courtyard, comfortable around a small fire with schnapps in their glasses and cards in their hands. Misao wrinkled her nose in disgust. She didn't like these men, unwashed, stinking, with foul teeth and stringy hair, so unlike her Aoshi-sama… pain shot through the girl's heart.

"Jiya," she suddenly asked without turning from the window at which she stood, "Jiya, why do you think Shinomori Aoshi…" she couldn't continue. Her trust in the old man had almost been shattered when he had told her that he himself had once led the Oniwabanshu. The farm as a decoy for people extraction was a brilliant idea, and once Misao had been explained the reasons why she had been kept in the dark about it all she had been able to understand- if not to forgive. It pained her to know that even after two months spent together there wasn't enough trust between her and the farm Oniwabanshu to let her in on their secrets. Her slim shoulders slumped down in defeat. She couldn't even bring herself to talk normally to Jiya like before…

"Why he has joined forces with the enemy? He was too young when I burdened him with the responsibility of leading the Oniwabanshu. He got obsessed with his duties as leader and burdened himself even more than I had burdened him. When his men died and he didn't even have a chance to protect him… well, he broke. He put the blame for the whole fiasco onto one man, the man you know as Himura, because he would have died if he had only himself to blame. He grew this obsession, to make the Oniwabanshu into a legend more powerful than that of the Battousai, and to achieve his goal he saw but one way- to ally himself with the enemy. He didn't know, yet, that the Regime was the mastermind behind everything that happened in Paris- he thinks it was the Battousai's fault for not reaching them sooner, he didn't even know that Himura was as much betrayed as he was, perhaps even more. And when he got to know these facts- he was in too deep already. He is haunted by demons, and he has become a demon himself. Misao, you must not meet him again. He has to be put out of his misery- I hope you understand. I'm going to ask Himura to do so since I'm no longer capable. Shinomori Aoshi is already dead- you have to let him go, too."

Tears fell onto the windowsill, blue-green eyes once again unable to hold their promise to never weep again. "Yes, Jiya," Misao whispered, but inside of her the last shards of her heart collapsed.

The evening sun painted a vivid array of colors on the white walls of the farm's living room, a group of riders lead by two tall men visible in the distance. The longing in her eyes was replaced by dull acceptance as the shadows grew and the world turned black and white. There was no hope anymore- but she still lived. Nobody should be forced to outlive hope.

… to be continued …

Uh… another slow chapter. The next one will be much faster, rest assured. And checked by a professional spellchecker… mine is on holidays at the moment, sorry. Anyways, what awaits you are new villains, the meeting of Kenshin and Okina, carrier pigeons from the Agency, another mad flight and… okay, I'm not telling anything else. Perhaps another glimpse of the past, though…

Yasai: You are horrible. Listen to yourself rambling once in a while, please! And then tell me you're sane…. If you can! Now, answer your reviewers!

Yes!!!

Reviewer's corner

lebleuphenix: Horribly sorry about the typos… there's an awful lot of them, I know, but one of my beta readers, the one who usually does the spellchecking, is not available at present… Thank you ever so much for mentioning it, though. When I get around to it I'll do a complete revision… *grins* I love WAFFy scenes… hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

Queen of Shadows: More Aoshi/Misao… hope you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!

Natsuko: Yup, you're right (or your dictionary, whatever^_^). Ley-béns-ahp-shnits-gey-fair-teh. Whee… brownie points to you! *grins* I almost overstrained my wrist the first time I tried that particular trick on a piano- it's much easier when you don't meet any resistance trilling… Ankle is itching- sign that it's healing ^_____^! *grins* Did I ever tell you I love answering your reviews?

Brenna: Wowie, you had a lot of work to do with Chapter 11, did you? I'm sorry and I'll work on my Aoshi-characterisation- promise!!!

Darkening: Whenever I try to make more time for my writing I get another load of homework, so sorry, can't manage more updates. I have about a half an hour a day for writing, to answer your question. As to whether the fugitives will be found… wait until next chapter

All readers: THANK YOU! And please feed my muse!

Yasai: Need… reviews… HUUUUUUNNNNNGRRRRYYYYY!

Argh! Don't eat me! Eat that one! *runs off*

Yasai: Myam!

*in flight* Cya!!!

Chibi-chan