Ciao!!!

As promised, the next chapter. I have to thank Néli for making me able to keep my promises. You guys are awesome, and seem to want the next chapter pretty badly… *chuckles* so I won't keep you any longer. Enjoy reading!!!

"…." 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.

This chapter is dedicated to my cousin and beta reader, Néli. Keep smiling, keep living, and keep that strength! You're wonderful the way you are, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

Chapter 14

Dawn

Curling into himself in an attempt to limit the surface he exposed to the crisp, pre-dawn air King Kamiya was intensely aware of the uncomfortable jabbing of broken twigs and branches into the tender muscles of his back, and the way his sweat had hardened into a smelly, cold, salty coating on his skin. His raw hands complained when he tried to grab the edges of his coat to wrap them even tighter around his thin body. His bleeding and blistered feet made themselves audible with his soft groan as they hit the broken, rotting trunk of a tree that had been the victim of the last great storm ravaging his country. Ex-country.

Shifting and twitching miserably, the King allowed himself another moan of displeasure. He didn't ever imagine himself in this kind of situation, never in all his life had he thought of sleeping unprotected and alone in the wilderness. Unprotected, alone, uncomfortable, cold, stiff, injured and surrounded by nothing but woods and savage beasts.

One of these beasts was currently eying him curiously, the red glint in its eyes unmistakably malicious- or perhaps just a reflection off the dried leaves on the ground and the fluffy fur on its tail. As soon as the King's gaze had settled on the small squirrel it scampered away, chittering angrily at the intruder from the safety of its perch high on the trunk of a nearby tree. Kamiya scowled at it, projecting his despair and loss at the innocent creature. He had had his life ripped from underneath his feet in the matter of a few hours after all, so he was entitled to a little bitterness.

"Damn. Damn Shishio. Damn Gohei. Damn that strange white-haired freak who ripped my cloak. Damn that old fool who…" he drifted off, unable to muster the energy to continue cursing. All gone. His life, his purpose in life, who he was, what he was, what he was going to be, and what he had been. All gone with the sweep of a strange, broad sword, the clanging of ploughs turned into battering rams against the castle doors, vanished on the wings of the pigeons swarming through the sweet-smelling evening air. He had lost. He was lost. He was nothing, not even worth mentioning any more. Why else would his escape have been so easy? Nobody had bothered sending him a second glance, it was clear that the rightful King of Dunkelland didn't warrant the label 'dangerous'. Instead, he had been sent running like a mangy dog from his own home, slipping out from the side entrance at the medicine woman's hut under the cover of a ripped and dirtied cloak that had never even been regal to begin with.

Kamiya slammed his fists into the soft, squishy forest ground, instantly regretting his action as pain spread through the numbness. He had rope-burned his palms and fingers when that freak had robbed him of his only hope at defending himself- he had not even had to exert himself. Kamiya had prided himself on his swordsmanship, had been able to stand against Saito and Aoshi- but then, the two had held back, as had been evidenced when the captain of the Palace Guard had started fighting for real- to protect his new home, his King and… the Amazon princess.

A gasp tore from the King's throat- where was the little spitfire girl? Misao… she had been chatting amiably with him over a chessboard after their rather… strenuous dinner. He had pleaded with her to avoid saying Aoshi's name in a last attempt to save face- he would have gone insane if he had had to hear the kitten story once again, or be reminded of how heroic his Palace Guard was. Apparently, Misao was very interested in Aoshi's men as well- she seemed to look for more than just the tall, black-haired fighter. The King sighed defeatedly- another mystery he would never solve, for as he moved his knight in a strategic position, aiming to take out the white queen in a few moves- Misao played white, as she claimed she always did- chaos had descended upon the noble home of the Dunkelland royals.

Tears welling up in his eyes the King recounted his last hours in the castle, how he had been startled from his thinking by the angry screams echoing from the walls, the clash of metal against metal, the wails of men and women injured and the scared cries of those unable to defend themselves.

He had shoved the Amazon princess to the back of the room, ignoring the angry green blaze in her eyes, and had carefully peeked around the half-opened door, cautious enough to keep himself covered at all times, which was rather fortunate as the shaft of a long, black-feathered arrow quivered beside the spot where his head had been seconds after he had taken his furtive glance.

"What… what is happening here?" Misao had demanded to know, her voice higher and shriller than her usual lively tone but well controlled nonetheless. Like the King, she had recognized the sounds out there for what they were, in spite of having never been in a battle herself.

And a battle it was. From what Kamiya was able to establish after rolling out the door and taking out the archer that had tried to shoot him with a quick slash of the sword he carried with him at all times, the townspeople from Dunkeltown- the small village-town sitting underneath the castle hill- had rebelled, risen, decided to take out their anger and dissatisfaction with their rulers this very night. He didn't know what spurned them to these deeds, didn't know what had incensed them to such a level, but the King knew how to fight and defend himself from such threats, which was what he had done, slashing, blocking, lunging, parrying tirelessly, warding off attempts on his life made by pitiful farmers with pitchforks or confident hunters with weapons that were more suited to war.

He had met up with his captain of the Palace Guard while he was fighting back to back with the Amazon princess who, true to her nature and upbringing, could not resist the lure of battle and had joined him as soon as the immediate threat of that archer had been disabled.

Aoshi was looking horrible, several wounds on his body visibly bleeding, his chalk-white face marked with the exhaustion of a long day of watching over a castle and a king virtually on his own, as even many of the Palace Guard had joined the hunt for Battousai-the-elusive-demon. His remaining men had, as he was able to shout above the chaos of their struggle, been swamped by a wave of farmers storming up to the castle, battering the doors with ploughs and pitchforks, logs and fists until they had splintered. He admitted to having been reluctant to shoot them at first, as he could not overcome his inborn nobility complex that compelled him to seek fair combat, and he didn't see fair combat in striking down untrained farmers from above.

When the castle had been stormed, however, he had realized his mistake. These were no wildly attacking men, they had a purpose in mind, and there was a method to their madness. They systematically attacked the Palace Guard, picking his men off one by one, stomping, hacking, battering, until resistance died down. This left only one possible explanation- they were being led, controlled, and by someone who knew the art of war at least as well if not better than Aoshi himself.

"There was nothing we could do, my King," he shouted, desperately warding off yet another farmer and his pitchfork. This one had come prepared, however, and the tall captain gasped as a long, viciously serrated kitchen knife plunged deep into the flesh of his left thigh. Sinking to one knee he cast a pleading look at the struggling King, taking in the mad glint in the cerulean eyes, the flying, untamed black hair and soiled clothes. Kamiya only had very light injuries. He would be able to do what Aoshi himself couldn't hope to accomplish anymore. Next to the King, completing their triangle of defense, Misao gave a stunning display of her abilities. Without leaving the protective circle they formed with their backs she slashed at their attackers with a short sword, throwing sturdy-looking, miniature daggers at their vulnerable spots in unpredictable intervals, kicking and punching anyone who foolishly came into her range. Her lithe body twisting acrobatically, she helped the King get rid of an especially obstinate hunter who had actually come close to taking the King's left eye but had, thanks to Misao's timely intervention, only succeeded in leaving a minute scratch on the royal skin underneath his intended target.

"I plead with you to leave the castle. Run, my King, and live to see another day. Dunkelland still needs you. As your captain of the Palace Guard I am responsible for your safety- please, go somewhere safe! And you, Misao, should follow him. I will be able to clear a path and hold them off for a while, so don't hesitate if you see the opportunity!"

Kamiya cast a dejected look on the pale, struggling figure of his loyal protector, and gave in with a minuscule nod. The man needed his conscious clear, and he would be able to find sanctuary in the next larger town, as well as a pigeon to contact Saito and the army. Looking sideways, he was surprised to find that Misao's face was frozen in horrified anger. She was glaring daggers at the downed man who was fighting to get to his feet while warding off several attacks, her arms crossed over her chest that was heaving with exertion and uncontrolled fury.

"I won't leave you, Aoshi," she declared firmly, aiming to impale the poor captain and last of the Palace Guard on the spears that shot from the depths of her eyes, "you saved what was most important to me back then, and now I will fulfill my life debt to you. I swore that I would defend you then, and now the time has come to uphold my vow."

Aoshi only looked tired and withdrawn, an icy mask dropping down over his face. "Please, Princess, I saved your kitten when you were ten. This doesn't warrant dying at the hands of this maddened crowd."

Swatting his argument- as well as an arrow streaking at her- aside the Amazon stood up to her, admittedly not very impressive, full height, hard, glinting green tourmalines leaving Aoshi no choice. "You dare insult the vows of a princess of the Amazons? Foolish man! I have no choice but to fulfill them, as you know very well. Yes, I was a child at that time, but I made them nonetheless, and am bound by them. I am no more pleased with this than you, kitchen boy!"

Kamiya, in retrospect, realized that there had been none of the anticipated venom in her voice as she shouted at Aoshi. Instead, she had almost sounded… giddy? No, that could not be, giddy in the face of death…?

"So, I will stay here and fight!" And with that, she had launched the first of many attacks, the outcome of which were that the King of Dunkelland was finally able to run from the thick of the battle, disarming or disabling- he didn't want to think of killing- the occasional villager before finally reaching what promised to be salvation in the form of a small, sturdy, thick oakwood door leading to the well-worn path to the medicine woman's hut.

Cheeks burning with shame the King recalled what had happened next, pulling his stiff and protesting muscles into cooperation as he sat up against the same rotting piece of tree-trunk that had previously aggravated his feet. He had faced off against the leader of the mutinous forces, had actually set eyes on the white-haired freak and called out to him to come and face him like a man, only to be rewarded with a condescending chuckle, the deep voice sending chills down the unfortunate King's spine.

"I would never think of facing someone like you like a man, little King-who-is-King-no-more." And he had turned around.

As Kamiya had clenched his fists and prepared to shout all his fury and pent-up frustration at him, he let out another of these low chuckles, turning into an insane grin that spread into his eerie, silver-gleaming eyes that appeared nearly colorless in the fading light of the day.

"However, Shishio has told me he doesn't want you on a rampage carrying that swords of yours, and he has the ear of the Lord, so I have to at least make sure you are weaponless, little ex-King. Are you willing to hand me your weapon without a fight?" He sounded almost bored at that.

"Never," Kamiya had spat, watching the stranger's shoulders slump in defeat.

"They never do what is best for them. Well then, sorry I have to hurt you, little ex-King. You would have made a nice plaything for that wretched Chain Master of yours, or for me, but I have to let you go as per… the Lord's orders. He wants you to 'taste defeat and desperation in all its bitterness'. Something I can understand… oh well, don't try to run to the next town and contact your army, little ex-King. The upheavals cover all of Dunkelland, the Lord has made sure of that. And now… I take your sword."

Kamiya had not even seen the movement that ripped his weapon out of his hands with blistering force. With a strangled cry of helplessness, pain and unadulterated rage he was thrown backwards against the medicine woman's hut. "You will pay!" he swore.

"The day hell freezes over and pigs fly," the stranger replied with utmost sincerity, then, suddenly stiffening. "I am sorry for my words, father."

And Kamiya had just caught a glimpse of an aged and… deranged face before he ran, faster than his feet could carry him, towards the forest. He had run until he had collapsed in exhaustion, run until the strain of heart hammering against his ribs seemed to have broken several of them, judging from the searing pain that was breathing. Run until his feet, clad only in the soft and pliable cloth shoes he wore in the castle had complained that they could not run anymore, covered in dirt, blisters, lacerations and abrasions as they were. Run until he had heard the voices of the hunters of the night behind him.

Pure, mindless terror had flooded his senses as the wolves howled. He imagined their sharp fangs, their hungry, glistening eyes, their soft paws prowling the night, their red tongues hanging from nightmarish maws… and he had run even farther, until he could only distantly hear their howls, until the pattering of soft paws against the forest floor had been there no more, until the visions of sharp fangs, glistening eyes, red tongues and nightmarish jaws had been swallowed by darkness as he fell, landing where he was sitting right now, trying to recollect and bring into order what he had gone through.

I… I am no longer the King, he finally thought, and with the thought itself came a finality, a sort of closure to the whole hellish night that made the tears of relief flow down his pale cheeks.

"I am no longer King," he screamed into the forest, startling the squirrel and a flock of birds that flew up with a series of indignant squawks and chirps, disturbing the peaceful grazing of a herd of deer that started thundering through the underbrush after hearing his ragged, raw voice. Crying loudly, he collapsed to the floor again, resting his head against what was left of the fallen tree's roots. He was no longer the King.

"What am I going to do now? What is left of me?" he asked noone in particular, casting threatening glares around the once-again silent forest. Nobody answered, and his glares found no mark since the squirrel had scampered off to search for more food. "What am I going to do?" he repeated listlessly.

Kamiya was at a loss. Whenever his father had not been punishing him the heir to the throne had been pampered, spoiled and served upon left and right. Now, he found himself at a loss, lost in the most dangerous wood in all of Dunkelland, and without breakfast to boot.

"Help me," he demanded of the mocking trees, the gentle breeze swaying their crooked, straight, multi-fingered limbs in what could only be a negation of his plea.

"Help me," he whispered again, unsure of what he should do. He had been out hunting in the forest more times than he could count, but had never penetrated this deep or had been this far from the castle. He was completely and utterly lost, without any sense of direction. Sure, he could establish where North was by judging the growth of moss on the trunk of a free-standing tree, but where to find one in such a dense forest, and apart from that: what use would the knowledge of North be? It didn't help him find out where in Dunkelwald he was and in which direction he would have to turn to find the nearest human settlement.

"Damn, damn all this! What made the villagers crazy? Why did this madman with the white hair have to take my sword? And who was this weird, old guy?" Anger replacing the helplessness, the King sat upright again. He would certainly get to the bottom of this bottomless pit of mysteries.

Dunkelwald has a circular shape… so if I simply walk right ahead I should at least get away from these wretched trees and these wolves, he reasoned, remembering the howls with a silent shudder.

However, as soon as he had gotten to his feet he fell back to the ground with a cry of agony. Not only were his muscles stiff from an uncomfortable night after hours of exertion, but also the soles of his poor feet were a ragged mass of bloody flesh, torn and injured in the mad dash when he had had to get out of the wolves' territory.

"What now?" the King muttered, despair once again clinging to his small frame. No answer came from his surroundings, as usual, so he didn't even bother to look up.

As Lady Luck would have it the ex-King had, in falling, completed half a turn, now facing the opposite direction from before. And as she was a merciful being despite all the accusations against her, she made the King raise his gaze one last time, made him shake his fist at the harsh forest in defiance.

Had there been a spectator to watch King Kamiya's plight he would sure have been astonished by what happened next. While the King's jaw remained dropped in an almost comical manner, while the fist remained stuck in the air for no apparent reason, while Kamiya's eyes bulged out in disbelief a slim column of smoke rose from a decrepit, derelict shack no more than fifty feet in front of him.

Vowing to never do this ever again, the King began to crawl towards the clearly inhabited building, it promised shelter, human company and, deep in the forest as it was, safety from deranged farmers-turned-rebels and mutineers. A smile underneath his scowl, the King crawled with determination, careful to avoid putting pressure onto his hands or feet, using his elbows or knees instead. He would never live down the shame of having arrived at someone's doorstep crawling, but as long as his identity as the King remained known only to him, the as of yet unknown soon-to-be good Samaritan would not think twice about helping him, and surely would not tell anybody, since this deep in Dunkelwald forest the only living thing would be wild beasts or hermits.

Yes, he would give that hermit a princely reward, no, a kingly reward, but he would never tell him who he was, thus being the only living man privy to the information the Dunkelland's King had crawled. Putting on his most pathetic face he raised his fists to knock on the shack's door- and was surprised to find it already opened, and a pair of legs impairing his vision.

*~*

Saito stared at the older man, his face etched with disbelief. What had just happened? His army, standing behind him, weapons drawn and ready, gaped no less than he did.

Sure, the man in front of them was a sight to behold, towering above all of them, except maybe Sano, packed with muscles and looking rather like a mountain with an angry sneer on its face than a human being, but that was not what had them gaping. What had them gaping was the fact that this very man currently clutched the front of Saito's uniform jacket in one of his giant hands, the other pressing the edge of a very sharp blade against the chief investigator's throat while his own weapon lay useless a few feet away from them on the dewy forest ground.

"What do you want?" he growled, intimidating.

Saito faced him coolly in spite of being deeply unsettled by the fact that this stranger had disarmed without so much as a thought when he had knocked onto the door of his small house. He refused to be intimidated by a brute who knew a few moves, the stranger had only caught him unaware, that was all. He had watched him move, and even thought here was no denying his mastery with a blade and in unarmed combat Saito knew that, if he was prepared, he could hold his own against this man.

"You think you can fight me? You can have your fight after you tell me what makes you want to barge into the home of Hiko Seijurou at dawn!" He smirked arrogantly before roughly setting the chief investigator down, watching with amusement as the black-haired man whose ki reminded him of a wild wolf smoothed his uniform down again.

"You are under suspicion of harboring a dangerous criminal known as Battousai. We have a warrant to search your property. The safety of the people of Dunkelland is what makes us barge into the home of Hiko Seijurou at dawn," Saito said acidly, picking up his trusted blade while keeping his eyes on the strange, offending man whose arrogance and determination could rival his own.

"Search my home then. There is noone here but I." Smirking at each soldier he allowed them access to the house, watching with detached amusement as the desperately tried tot read lightly around the few valuables he owned. He was making a living by being a potter, as was evidenced by the mass of clay resting underneath a heap of wet leaves behind the house. The soldiers were very disappointed when they turned the leaves over and found nothing but oily, slick clay maturing beneath the protective cover.

"Nothing here," a spiky-haired, lanky soldier reported, and Seijurou narrowed his eyes. Had the man's voice sounded… relieved? It had, he concluded as tension the soldier probably hadn't even known was there was released from his muscles. Somehow, the boy looked awkward, as though he had been thrust into the army without his consent, and he couldn't have been with them for too long as his movements still lacked the precision and fluidity that came with practice. He also detested Saito, the dark look on his face told enough of that. A most unusual boy… rough around the edges, but he could be something more.

Fleetingly, the swordsmaster wondered whether his stupid apprentice had gotten to know that soldier- after all, who would be relieved if a severely injured criminal had escaped yet again but a friend of that very same criminal? And the questioning look he had been shooting Seijurou when he had thought himself unguarded…

"You have promised me a fight, I believe?" Saito's cold, emotionless voice brought Seijurou out of his musings. The chief investigator of Dunkelland Castle had ordered his army to form a circle around the two of them, his sword was drawn and ready. "You have not only insulted myself but, more importantly, the law enforcement of Dunkelland. You will have to pay for that."

He sounded as though he was announcing that the price for rice balls had been fluctuating only minutely in the past year, with about the same amount of interest- if viewed only superficially. Underneath his cool exterior, however, Seijurou could sense the fire of emotions burning bright, first and foremost among them the need to have justice served. His haragei quickly alerted him to the fact that this man was not as easy as he had been when caught off guard.

"I will honor my promise," Seijurou answered honestly, a minute smirk tugging the left corner of his mouth downwards. This was the man who hunted his baka deshi, he surmised, well, it was time to see what Kenshin had been up against all these years.

Later, he would cherish that fight and treasure the memory of it as one of his fondest. While up against the force of nature that was Hiko Seijurou, however, he could do no such thing, Starting from his standard position he launched his trademark three-pointed thrust, the left-handed gatotsu that had been the end of many a criminal. Against the swordsmaster from the woods, however, that attack was of little to no use. His sword point only met thin air, and the shrill whistle of the wind accompanying that Hiko's descent warned him. He threw himself aside in a twisted corkscrew motion, bringing his weapon around to launch into another attack, this one aimed against air attacks specifically. He had developed the move after hearing that these were Battousai's favorite modus operandi, and hoped it would serve him well now.

In spite of his bulk, however, Hiko wasn't any slower than the fabled demon. Somehow, he changed the direction of his leap in midair, flipping in a low arc over the astonished chief investigator's head and striking from behind with blinding speed, faster than the eye could follow.

The hollow clang of his sword hitting the ground marked the end of the fight, a shocked Saito whirling around to face his indifferent opponent. He hadn't even had the chance to get a single hit in, and the man had disarmed him using the flat side of his blade just after he had come out of a potentially fatal air attack.

"Who are you?" he asked, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits. He had underestimated that Hiko, but he had not been able to sense anything impressive about the taller man. How he had done that was a question for another day, now there were more urgent matters to attend to. The style, the speed, the air attack… somehow, this man was related to Battousai. He had sent he demon fight, he knew that speed especially.

"I am Hiko Seijurou, current master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu," Hiko replied, flipping his long, black braid back over his shoulder, the only thing that had been disturbed when fighting Saito. "And you underestimated me a second time, Saito Hajime, because your haragei didn't tell you anything when you tried to sense me. I live here alone and peacefully, practicing my art and selling my pottery, and I would appreciate if it remained this way. Should you try to cross me I won't hesitate to take out your men. Now go!"

Saito' yellow eyes burned with silent thoughts and his attempt to connect the man's words to Battousai but he nodded. He had fought, and he had lost, and honor demanded he give in to Hiko's request.

"I know you wouldn't. But if I find out you have any connections to Battousai I won't hesitate to fight you again. And this time I wouldn't underestimate you, Hiko. I ask that two of my men stay here to watch whether the criminal shows himself."

"Let them stay," Hiko shrugged, turning and walking back into his house, "they will not live within my walls, however."

Saito didn't answer, instead assigning the spiky-haired youth and another, older man who stared at the poor soldier with lewd glances to stay behind. Deeply confused and disturbed by his failure to procure the criminal, Saito gave another wordless instruction. He would need the time the trek back to Dunkelland Castle took to think over the events of that morning. He still was suspicious of Hiko. The man was too skilled at handling his weapon of choice, and a master at regulating the energy flow within his own body as well- like the red-headed assassin he was trying to catch. Battousai had been able to hide in plain sight by simply hiding that he was a warrior, appearing to all his senses like a harmless fisherman, farmer, or merchant. Thus, Saito was almost certain that Battousai had some connection to the arrogant, overconfident and overly skilled man that had just defeated him so soundly. If there was one thing Saito was good at it was catching criminals. Every single one of them made a mistake sooner or later, and as he was as patient as a wolf on the prowl he would catch them when they did. Battousai was no exception. He was just a little more… skilled. But Saito loved a challenge, and he would prevail. Justice had to be served, evil had to be pulled out with the root instantly. These were his convictions, the rules he lived by, and not even an arrogant swordsmaster would hinder him from applying them.

*~*

A pounding headache was the first thing that permeated the comfortable fuzz around Misao's mind. Groaning, she pressed a hand to the swelling on her forehead, only to encounter a soft cloth emitting a spicy, cooling and soothing scent. Touching the cloth she suddenly remembered, and shot upright only to fall back into the soft pillows- pillows?- as a dizzy spell rendered her helpless.

"Shhh, you must not move yet. You have a concussion, princess." Long, slender finger, cool and dry skin pressing against her sweat-covered shoulders, held her immobile.

"Aoshi! Where is he? AOSHI!" she cried, trying in vain to break lose and aggravating some unseen, unnoticed wounds. "Ahhh…." She could not hold back her cry of pain.

"See, I told you to lie still!" The hands were back, and a bitter liquid was touching her lips.

"Where… what happened? Where am I?" she asked, turning her head and refusing to drink whatever was to be urged down her throat.

"You are safe. I don't know what happened. Now drink!" The voice was soft, yet steelily demanding obedience.

"No! Where is Aoshi?" No answer came. Desperately, she ripped the cloth from her eyes with strength she didn't know she had. All she saw were two kind, creamy brown eyes looking tiredly down on her.

"Where is Aoshi?"

… to be continued …

*grins* Written to 'Jesus Christ – Superstar', 'Mulan Soundtrack' (gotta love 'Reflection'- my twin was ready to jump out of the window after I launched into the third rendition, but it's basically the story of my life so I'm entitled to singing it as often and as loud as I want to), 'The Final Countdown', 'Pocahontas Soundtrack', 'Take my Breath Away', 'Puff the Magic Dragon', 'Tell me on a Sunday', 'Take that Look off your Face' and Rachmaninov's piano concerto no.3. I know the music doesn't really fit in with the chapter, but in my mind, it somehow did… weird and useless fact, I know. But music is very important for me, so I just had to share… and speaking of sharing, thanks for sharing your opinion on RtK with me! By the way: if you want to get an e-mail whenever I update my stories, just go to: http:// groups. group/ Travel_Stories . Remember to remove the spaces after pasting the URL!!! And finally… Here's the

Reviewer's corner

CurlsofSerenity: Don't worry, Kenshin cannot kill you at the moment… and where would be the fun if he just hopped off his bed declaring "I'm fine!" for all the world to see… I need to have my character torture! *pouts*

Felina: Sorry, Enishi isn't the big bad meanie… but you're close. Have been resting a little as of lately, and have gotten my laptop back, so I can write and relax!

Missaw: Glad you're not mad at me… here's what happens next!

Someone: Working on the next chapter in return! ^____^

^_^: I tried to tell Misao she should take it easy and marry the King already, but she seems to have other plans and runs away to fight the bad guys… shows how good I can control the characters, right? Anyways, hope you had fun reading!

flyinangel: *grins* I'm not allowed as a debater as I'm a native speaker, but I am sort of an honorary debating coach. Sorry, I don't know what a 'krikque' is… never encountered that word before. 'cuique' means 'to each his own' in Latin, and 'crick' is some sort of muscle spasm that isn't really comfortable to have. Is it an English word? Now you've gotten me curious…

Quatic7: Kaoru's first steps on the way to redemption in here… hope you could catch 'Angel' later!

Dinkydaelf: You have a twin sister who reads fanfiction? I envy you! My twin brother is always teasing me for writing this story. Glad you like it, though. *grins* The big bad meanie wasn't on your list!

Dove of Night: You've broken your ankle? I'm soo sorry for you! I had the same thing last year… Beware! You'll get started on my streak of bad luck and injuries, because my ankle was what started it for me! Now I'll have to perform the Anti-bad-luck Chi dance-of-good-fortune! *dances around, waving swan feathers while chanting Bad Luck Be Gone over and over* There, now you should be better in no time!

Natsuko: CONGRATS PATRIOTS!!! An have fun with your school projects… I am done with mine, at least until next term, that's the advantage of doing them early (and incidentally the cause for my twin calling me 'Hermione' as well… *blushes*) I'll e-mail soon, promise- my schedule's been tuned down quite a bit this month now that the weekend from hell is over. In Germany, being Valedictorian isn't such a big thing- it doesn't get you any extra points, only the dubious honor of having to hold a speech. I hate speaking in German and to a large audience at that- I still have an accent when I'm nervous, even after three years of studying German *buries head in dictionary* Thanks for everything! Ryan and Néli both say hi!!!

Karen: It's really just a question of organization *blushes*… you live in Florida? Cool! My beta and cousin lives in Delray Beach, FL! The world's a village *grins*! Having a twin really is cool most of the time, especially if you have a hard time finding friends because you move around a lot, but there are disadvantages to someone knowing you so well as well… you can hardly keep your feelings private, for example. But Ry and I have managed quite nicely these past years…

Jelly the IV: Kaoru thinks she is perfectly normal for a male- she knows she is slightly different, but her father has assured her the difference will go away with time *sniggers* and as of yet she doesn't really realize she should feel different! Thanks for your compliments *bows*!

Monique: I hope this is soon enough… I have put the address of my Yahoo! group at the bottom of my notes, you'll get an update e-mail if you join *baits Monique with chocolate chip cookies as well*

Zeh Wulf: Umm… I guess I'll send you an e-mail soon ^___^! The rest of your plot-guessing was a teensy bit off… but then, I have some pretty nasty twists planned courtesy of my darling beta who is much more devious than any of us could ever be! Sorry if the fight Saito/Hiko was a bit disaapointing- I just don't think his men would risk his wellbeing and Saito wouldn't want them to interfere in his fight with a valiant opponent (his troups in the OVA didn't join in the fight against Kenshin, I think, which is what I base this reaction upon...)

Thanks again, everyone. Now, for the next chapter Néli and I need a little more time as she has to go to the hospital once again… thus, I will either post at 175 reviews or in a week's time. I'm sorry for setting such an impossibly high number, but if I should reach it I promise the next chapter will be up the next day latest. Néli is not doing too well, and as she is the one who turns my words into a story I really have to rely on her as my beta. Thus, thank you for reading, thank you for leaving a review, in the name of my beta as well, and thank you for coming back for the next chapter.

Cya!!!

Chi

PS: Remember... http:// groups. group/ Travel_Stories, or put me on your author's alert list for getting an e-mail whenever I update. I don't have support services, as my parents don't want me to have a account and I currently live outside the US, but perhaps it works nonetheless? Cya!!!

Chi