'Better,' the blade's cool voice whispered in her mind as Kaoru tapped off the last oil and reassembled the hilt. 'I thank you. For his sake, as well as mine.'

"Just-" The kendo instructor swallowed dryly, eyes on the bloodstained paper she'd used to clean the blade. Part of her wished she hadn't decided to do this in her own bedroom, leaving Yahiko out in the living room with a DVD player and a sleeping brother. But she had a responsibility to her students. Yahiko loved his older brother, despite their fights. There was no way she was going to force him to face the crimson now staining that man's soul. Not now; not when Kenshin was still half in shock himself. "It was self-defense, right?"

'C Spot was attempting to eat him.' The cool touch turned wry. 'It's not as if Kenshin had a silver-lined newspaper to smack the idiot on the nose.'

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Idiot?"

'I suppose most would not see it. Even among the Kin. But Kenshin's ki is strong. To corner one with such a will to live, and leave that soul no choice but to pick up a blade - aa, he was an idiot.'

And you're not sorry at all, Kaoru realized. She tried not to shiver.

'You should be afraid, Kamiya-sensei.' The sword's voice was cool and clinical as a surgeon's knife. 'I am a weapon. Satsujin-ken is my core. My nature. And I lend that nature to those who bear me, until at last they can no longer recall what it is to not know how to kill.'

Murderous sword technique. Ancient kenjutsu, meant for the wars of old. No. Not Kenshin!

'He carries me. Only.' The chill was almost gentle. 'But I have touched him, Kamiya-sensei. I have defended him. He is open to me. Vulnerable.'

Kaoru wet dry lips. "And me? Yahiko?"

'You are safe. For now.'

She glared at steel. "And just what aren't you telling me about how safe we are?"

Was it her imagination, or did the sword seem ever so slightly cowed? 'You won't like it.'

"News flash? I already don't like it." Kaoru stared at the wavy line that marked the transition from hardened edge to springier steel. "It's Kenshin, isn't it? As long as you're letting - whatever this is, happen to Kenshin, it won't happen to us."

'Yes.'

"Well, stop it!"

'I will not.'

"Listen, you-"

'So long as I allow myself to be drawn to Kenshin, so long as I answer the call of his soul alone, and not any who might touch me, you are safe. And he will not allow you not to be safe. Yahiko is his flesh and blood; you, his friend. If I fought his will, his need, to protect you - that which binds us is altering his ki, forging it like new steel. To fight that would be to smash his soul against stone. Part of him would shatter.'

Kaoru paled. Eyed gleaming steel as if it had suddenly turned into a hissing cobra. "So what can we do?" No no no, not Kenshin, please no-

'You might start by not panicking!' Chill lashed her like an icy ribbon. 'He is not as he was; that, I cannot help. I have moved with him, fought with him, and the memory of what we have done will be with him forever. But there is still time for me to leave him. There would still likely be time if he held me a week.' A formless shrug. 'Though I would not advise that.'

"Not a problem," Kaoru ground out. "If you're still here in a week, I'm going to introduce you to an interesting modern American invention. Called a trash compactor."

Silence. And then-

Laughter drummed against her soul like April rain.

Kaoru saw red. "Why, you-"

'It... has been so long.' Cool glee skirled about her. 'No wonder he adores you. Even untrained, he would have sensed your ki. And those with the will to face me are so very, very rare.'

"Kenshin - wha-?" Red-faced, Kaoru shook her head. "I think I've heard just about enough out of you." Sheathing the blade, she headed for the bedroom door.

'Kamiya-sensei!'

"What?"

'Do not leave me alone with Yahiko. Not while Kenshin still sleeps.'

"I thought you said we were safe," Kaoru pointed out.

'From magic. But I am a weapon, sensei. You know that, and treat me as such. And Kenshin knows all too well what I may do, even in unknowing hands.'

Never leave your students with live steel, her father's voice echoed out of memory. Not unless you're sure they can handle it. "Right," Kaoru sighed.

Yahiko jumped up when she walked out into the living room, ignoring ominous explosions on the TV screen. "So did he tell you what's going on? There was fur, and there were fangs, and one guy was even tossing lightning around - Kenshin knew who those guys were, but he wouldn't tell me!"

'He was busy running at the time,' the sword put in dryly.

"He told me part of it." Kaoru looked at the small man on her couch, curled into a catlike ball under her sleeping bag. From what little of his face she could see Kenshin was still lost in sleep, too weary even to dream. "Your brother was delivering a book last night?"

"Jusanro Tani," Yahiko nodded after a second to think. "Kenshin thought it was a little weird. He said that usually this guy goes straight to the rare book dealers. Won't touch theatrical reproductions like ours with a ten-foot pole. Probably wouldn't have this time, either, only he heard we found this poetry journal in an old stage magician's trunk and decided he had to have it. Freaky. But his checks are always good, so-" The teen shrugged.

"Freaky's a good word," Kaoru shuddered. "According to this-" she waved the sheathed sword, "Mr. Tani is a sorcerer."

Yahiko's jaw dropped. "No way," he said reverently.

"Way," Kaoru replied, face serious. "And some of his bodyguards are sorcerers, vampires... and werewolves. And when your brother saw them fighting another creature - one of those werewolves decided he'd seen too much to live." She managed a shaky smile. "Your brother had other ideas."

"Way to go, aniki!" Yahiko grinned. Thought a second. Paled. "Oh, man! They followed him? Which means they could have followed us here-" Dark eyes darted toward the windows and door.

"Probably not," Kaoru said hastily. "Apparently real wolves might be able to track a bus, but neither of you were bleeding, so werewolves would have lost it in a few blocks. You should be safe here." She left out the fuzzy suspicion the blade had offered; that it and Kenshin both thought they hadn't left blood the first time. An assassin with mad green eyes... but they don't know. They didn't see him, or feel him. And they would, wouldn't they?

The sword was silent.

Some help you are, Kaoru thought crossly.

'Do you wish me to lie to you? Jin-e can shield his ki, as any hitokiri can. And Kenshin is not my bearer. My ki perception is limited.'

"Anyway," Karou sighed, "I thought I'd head down the hall for a few minutes and see if Dr. Genzai can make a house call. Are you going to be okay here?"

Yahiko's gaze slid to the gunfire on the TV, the older brother so lost in oblivion he could probably sleep through a Times Square traffic jam. "Gee. Let me think. Yeah, I guess I can last a few minutes without you."

"Teenage sarcasm," Kaoru grumbled, automatically locking the front door of her apartment behind her as she stepped into the hall. "And to think I hoped he'd start acting like a regular kid." She glanced down at black lacquer. "Don't know how I'm going to explain you to Dr. Genzai."

'Humans don't usually see me. Not unless I want them to.'

"But Kenshin," she started.

'Kenshin didn't see me, Kaoru-sensei. He just grabbed me off the floor.'

Kaoru winced at the raw emotion that brushed her with that shard of memory. Pain at the death of his former host. Fear for his friend, Sanosuke, still facing the deadly assassin. The raw helplessness of sensory deprivation, no way to move or see or feel. And then-

Fear pain terror not going to die here!

Werewolf blood was a bitter, coppery taste along steel. Sight and touch and scent roared back with it, pulsing in time to an unfamiliar heartbeat. A new ki glowed at the edge of his consciousness; warm, open, strong.

Tempting. So very tempting.

'But I did not take him then, and I will not now,' the sword stated bluntly, shutting away that memory. 'I work with humankind; with the agency that wards you from the worst Kin, here in New York. I ask. I do not take.'

Uh-huh, Kaoru thought darkly. Right.

The bad thing was, she believed him.

The worse thing was, she'd caught a little more of that sense of Kenshin's ki than she thought the sword had meant to show. Tempting wasn't the word for it. It was... the smell of a perfect steak, after a long, hard, hungry day. The cool slide of lemonade down the throat on the hottest day of summer. The first melting taste of sour-cream chocolate cake, when you just knew you shouldn't, but it was so good...

Focus, Kaoru. First make sure Kenshin's okay. Then track down this Sanosuke and make him take this salivating hunk of steel out of here! She knocked on the door she wanted. "Dr. Genzai? Do you have a few minutes? One of my students brought home a little problem."

"Little Kaoru?" The gray-haired doctor's cheerful voice filtered through wood. "Ayame, Suzumi, put that down. Yes, on the table, not the rug. Just a minute..."

'This is your Dr. Genzai?'

"What are you worried about?" Kaoru muttered under her breath. "He's not going to see you."

'I said, humans don't see me.'

The door opened, and Dr. Genzai smiled at her, gray hair mussed in a way that said little Ayame had been into the finger-paints again. "Kaoru! What can I-" Dark eyes fell on the sword, and he gasped. "Battousai!"

'Dr. Genzai is a sorcerer.'


Warmth. Tiredness. Vague sounds of triumphant music, as a TV bad guy went down in flames. Kenshin snuggled his face a little deeper into his arms, feeling the silky slip of the sleeping bag over the side of his neck. He didn't really want to move.

But there was something coming closer. Not a dangerous something, and yet - it pricked at him. Rubbed at raw nerves, winding them taut.

:Kenshin. Stay calm. Dr. Genzai is going to touch your foot.:

Stay calm? Why wouldn't he stay calm? He could almost see the man without opening his eyes; tracking him by sound and scent and the shy newness of ki sense. He could feel kind intent, a will to help, friendliness. Nothing to explain that odd, wary prickle in his nerves.

Worn fingers touched his skin just above the bandage, and wariness flared into sorcerer, here-

"Ooof!"

Violet eyes blinked open, staring down into grimacing brown. Wait. I'm not on the couch.

Pinned to the floor, the gray-haired sorcerer coughed. "Young man, if you please..."

Kenshin dropped his gaze further, to where the solid bar of his arm was pressing against a wrinkled throat. Flushed, and scrambled off the man onto the floor. "Sumimasen. I mean - I'm sorry, that I am. I don't know why I did that..." I don't even know how I did that!

'Yes, you do.' Battousai's tone was gentle, but firm. 'Jujitsu is part of the Hiten. Not a major part, but I do know how to teach my bearer how to fight without a blade.'

"You're not exactly yourself lately," Dr. Genzai said dryly, getting to his feet one knee at a time. "So I've heard."

"Everything okay in there?" Yahiko's voice rang out of Kaoru's kitchen. "Agh! Suzumi - ow - you're stepping on my-"

"I think I'd better go rescue your brother from the Dynamic Duo." Smiling, Kaoru moved toward the kitchen. Stopped for a moment, blue eyes serious. "This should probably stay here."

Kenshin accepted the sheathed sword and watched her stride into the kitchen, listening to little-girl shouts of "Kaoru-nee-san!" and "Big sister, we got him!" She looks upset.

'She knows you're at risk. She would help you if she could. But she can't, and she knows it.'

Kenshin frowned. At risk?

Hesitation. 'Let Dr. Genzai look you over.'

"If you would put that aside, young man? Not too far, no, just away." Dr. Genzai's brown eyes twinkled with wry humor. "I don't know if Battousai can shock me through you, and I'd prefer not to find out."

"Shock you?" Kenshin asked, startled.

"Hmm. Yes, there's no reason you would know. Battousai the Manslayer has a rather unpleasant reputation among the Kin, Kenshin. Well earned, I'm afraid." The doctor nodded at the hilt as Kenshin laid it on the couch next to him. "I've heard that blade can kill a Kin who tries to pick it up. Extra crispy was the term one of my patients used."

'My maker warded me well,' Battousai said smugly.

"Manslayer?" Kenshin said weakly.

'Hitokiri Battousai,' the blade supplied, arrogance gone. 'A name I earned long ago with my first true bearer, in the bloody streets of Kyoto, striking down humans and Kin alike.'

"Humans and Kin?" Kenshin echoed, feeling as if a cold wind had blown through his soul.

'As you told Yahiko, it's never that simple.' Chill wrapped him, trying to comfort. 'We fought for what we believed was right, Kenshin. As did our enemies. We were just... better.'

"I take it you can hear him without touching him." Dr. Genzai had his sleeve shoved back, touching the faint remnants of the bruise left by werewolf teeth. "How long has that been going on?"

"Since last night," Kenshin answered honestly. "You're a doctor and a sorcerer?"

"It happens sometimes," Dr. Genzai said gravely. "An old story, but still new enough to you, I'd imagine. Young doctor learns European medicine, goes out to heal his people, has an encounter with Kin and survives. Gradually starts working in the Witch and Crowley community - you have no idea the injuries a human dealing with Kin can sustain. And most of them you can't explain short of dropping someone into the lion pit at the zoo."

"Tell me about it," Kenshin grumbled.

"Ah, that's right; you did have a rather close encounter with Homo sapiens lycanthropus, eh? Well. Most Crowleys remain only human, but some few of us learn we have a talent for magic. Healing spells were my downfall, I must admit. The body adapts to magic, becomes accustomed to it... it's rather an interesting phenomenon-" Genzai caught the alarmed look in Kenshin's eyes, and shook his head. "And then one day, if you're fortunate, or unfortunate, you're caught in a situation in which all that stands between you and death at another's hands is your magic. You strike, you survive - and you find yourself standing over the dead, draining away the last of their life to restore your own."

"I'm sorry," Kenshin said softly.

"I'm not," Dr. Genzai replied bluntly. "Not anymore. My grandchildren lost their parents a year ago, to damn Hexenbanner thugs who couldn't bear to see humans live with magic. They will not lose me."

Hexenbanner? Kenshin asked.

'A 'stake' organization, as Kin these days call them,' Battousai filled in. 'Hexenbanner is covert, international, and highly annoying. They work in cells, which makes them difficult to fight on any better than a one-to-one basis, they often have diplomatic immunity, and their goal is to wipe all Witches and Sorcerers from the face of the planet. Ironic, given that magic is most humans' best defense against other Kin.'

And you've killed them, Kenshin knew. Even though they're human.

'When I've had to, yes. They murder people, Kenshin. Like Genzai. Like his granddaughters - who are human, and innocent. How can I stand aside and let it happen?'

That's not it, Kenshin thought darkly, suddenly angry. That's not everything.

'Kenshin-'

I have to know! Pale fingers bit into blue upholstery. I have to know what you are!

I have to know why you kill...

Reluctance. A spark of anger, echoing his own. 'Then tell Genzai to stand back.'

The words barely left his lips, when the maelstrom hit.

Must save must protect (must kill) search heal touch find (mine!) longing to laugh bleed breathe (heartbeat hear follow take)-

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

"Easy, now." The words seemed to come from very far away, a match to the distant touch of hands on his. "Kenshin. Let me see your eyes."

Dazed, Kenshin looked up. "Battousai has a heartbeat."

Worry radiated through Genzai's ki. "Yes, well, that's interesting- oh."

Kenshin flinched from the sorcerer's shock of recognition. "It's important, that it is," he insisted.

"I know." There was a sudden, frightening gentleness in the doctor's tone. "Kenshin. This is important. Did you cut yourself? On this blade?"

"No. Should I? But... that would be foolish, that it would. You strike out with a blade, you don't turn it on yourself. Unless you must..." The maelstrom was fading, letting the world back into focus, but it was still there. Warm. Terrifying. Pulsing in time with his heartbeat, becoming as subtly familiar as the throb of his own veins. Kenshin buried his face in his hands. "I'm so confused."

"I imagine you are." Fingers gripped his shoulder, offering comfort. "Kenshin. I need you to look at this."

Kenshin blinked away the glint of light from Genzai's small hand mirror, warily eyeing the face within silvered glass. The pale shape he knew from year upon year, though there was a haunted set to violet eyes that hadn't been there last night-

Not violet.

Purple had faded, glinting with steely blue. The shifting shades themselves were framed by brows and bangs that weren't - quite - dark brown anymore. The brown-gold glints his dark hair should have had in the sunlight were gone, transmuted to glitters of pure scarlet.

"Breathe," the doctor ordered.

"What-" Kenshin swallowed dryly. "The werewolf was gone, he swore to it-"

Genzai put the mirror away in his kit. "What's happening to you has nothing to do with lycanthropy, and you know it."

Yes. He did. "Why?"

'I can't help it.' Battousai's tone held remorse, and resignation. 'You're - compatible to the specific pattern of my Kin infection, as the lab technicians might say. Your ki fits so well with mine - it's been over a century since the change happened this fast-'

"If the rumors are true, he's a Muramasa blade," Genzai said at the same time. "One of the truly cursed ones. They take over their bearers. Change them. Usually they wipe out the human mind in the process. Fortunately for the rest of us, they usually need some damn fool to cut themselves before they can take hold. But from the looks of you, Battousai doesn't." He fixed Kenshin with a gimlet gaze. "Get that thing back to Target Alpha while you still can."


"U-hu-hu-hu..."

Smoke drifted on the wind as the green-eyed hitokiri studied the apartment building his foe was using for sanctuary. Strands of long blue-gray hair blew in the wind, trailing over a black scarf.

"Go ahead and hide, Battousai." Jin-e tapped ash away from his cigarette, gaze tracing the ancient lines of power scribed on gray stone. Generations of spell-casters must have warded these walls, working in charms to hide, to protect... and to deceive, so hapless owners never realized they should be charging three times the rent. "Hide from me. Hide from the legend you made; hitokiri, cursed blade, demon of Kyoto. Hide from your own nature.

"The blood will call you out. You can't fight it. Not forever.

"Not when I know how to make you angry..."


Sano paced the worn tan carpet of his apartment living room, growling under his breath; a bad habit he'd picked up from Griswold down in the ME's office. Part of him wanted to tear through New York's streets, shaking informants upside down until some information fell out. The more sensible part of him, the part that had listened to Bakumatsu veterans like Captain Sagara and Battousai when they talked tactics, kept him here, where he had easy access to his computer, phone, and Target Alpha's information net. Where is he, where is he... think, Sano. Himura's not dumb, and he's got enough sense to listen to Battousai. He's not coming back to his apartment. He's probably got better sense than to go in to the shop, either.

That had been a shock. Wonderful Things was one of the places Target Alpha had kept a weather eye on since the day the New York office opened, noting it as one of the few hotspots of magical supplies uncontrolled by the local witch Clave. Kin had been customers there for over a century, drawn by its stock of crafts of bygone ages. Modern magic might run more to enchanted submachine guns than enchanted swords, but you still needed the right tools to work the spells into weapons in the first place. And when it came to writing out Deeds, handmade paper was flat out it. People who cut corners and used twenty-four pound copier stock to write demonic contracts on tended to end up as front-page photos on USA Exposé.

Or not, given that what was left of the idiot wizling often most closely resembled so much red wood-chipper mulch.

So far as Target Alpha knew, none of the owners had been Crowley, but that had never kept Kin out of the Dullahans' shop.

Only it's the Himuras' shop now, since Thomas Himura married Deirdre Dullahan, and she was Connor's last near relative, Sano recalled from the agency file. Seems like Connor was just as happy Thomas took it over, too; file says Deirdre was a great street cop, but she was no shopkeeper.

A good street cop as far as humans went, but a damn unlucky one when it came to Kin. One night about fourteen years back she'd gone out on patrol. And hadn't come back.

Not unless you count the ashes we gave to the family. We had to make the ID by her dental records. After we pieced the skull and jaws back together. Kami, when werewolves go bad, they go bad.

Now her son had just managed to keep himself from being eaten by werewolves. Twice. What were the odds of that?

In New York? Not that slim, Sanosuke thought darkly. Stopped mid-pace, and sighed. Okay. Himura's not anywhere he usually goes, or the NYPD would have pinned him down by now. So either C Spot's buddies got lucky-

Heh. Against Battousai? Snowballs in a blast furnace would have a better chance.

Or Battousai's got him lying low someplace he thinks no one's going to look.

A mouse-slight scrape caught Sanosuke's ear; he stalked over to the nearest window, mindful of Kin abilities to climb with magical claws.

Nothing.

Someplace that doesn't have a phone? Damn it, Battousai, call me-

The phone rang. Sano snatched it. "Yeah." Anybody on this line knew who was at the other end - and if they didn't, well, he was in a mood to chew telemarketer throats anyway.

"It's you." The relief in Kenshin's voice was palpable.

"Yep." Sanosuke grinned, activating the circuits on his line that would start a trace. "Good to hear from you, Himura. You and the kid still in one piece? Hate to say it, but your apartment looks like hell."

"It was close."

Wind sighed in the background, Sano picked out a creak of branches against stone. Outside. Someplace there's trees and buildings. So - either he's pretty sure he's not being watched, or Battousai's feeling paranoid, and they're outside so they can watch. Not that you can call it paranoia when they are out to get you. "Look. Kenshin. I know you probably want to crawl under a rock and hide for about a month. I can't blame you. But you've kept it together pretty good so far. And I could really use your help. If you're up for it."

Silence. Damn, I asked for too much, he's going to bolt-

"Will it give you probable cause to stop C Spot's packmates?"

Sano nodded. "Good chance of that, yeah."

A quiet breath. "What do you want me to do?"

Looks like you lucked out, Battousai, buddy. Himura's got serious guts. Sano's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Don't suppose you could meet me near your shop, so I can walk you in there? We're still trying to narrow Jin-e down to motive, and if I knew exactly what Tani got from you, it'd help."

"Yes, I could, but - it was just poetry." He could hear the disgruntled note in that stressed voice. "Not even good poetry."

Sano snorted. "Trust me. If Tani bought it, it wasn't just poetry."

"All right. I'll get there as soon as I can, that I will. But," Kenshin swallowed dryly. "I have a problem."

"Yeah?" Sano drawled. He did not like that note of controlled fear in Kenshin's voice. Kami, please tell me Battousai didn't miss the werewolf infection.

"Your friend. I need - I need to get him away from me, that I do. Fast."

Sano frowned, attention caught by a flicker of shadow outside his kitchen window. Pigeon? Or is there someone out there? "Say what?"

"I can hear him, Sanosuke." Kenshin's tone danced on the raw edge of panic, held back by sheer will. "Across the room, across the building - I can hear him. And it's getting stronger."

Sano's knuckles went white on the phone. No way. Battousai wouldn't.

"He says he can't help it, he's sorry... Sano, please, where can we meet?"

Dark laughter raised the hackles on Sano's neck. "In hell, Battousai," a too-familiar voice snickered. "U-hu-hu-hu..."

Sano jumped aside. Bright steel slashed his phone instead of his throat, nicking his right hand, throwing sparks as the receiver died. Now we see how you deal with bullets-

Pain jolted down Sano's arm from the bleeding nick, sending his hand into spasms as it closed on his gun. He had it, but he couldn't aim, couldn't find the trigger to pull.

Jin-e stepped aside as the agent struggled backward, teeth gleaming in his wicked smile. "Don't even think about it, rooster-head. I won't let you shoot."

Not possible. He didn't use that Edge on me - I would've seen his eyes!

"Surprised? Last night I just marked you with ordinary enchanted steel." The assassin held up his wakizashi, a smear of blood disappearing into steel. "This time... you're mine."

Blood sucked into the blade, Sano realized, staggering back and right, gun falling from a hand that burned like liquid fire. Like when Battousai took in my blood. Damn, we thought he was the katana, not the wakizashi! He's marked me with a Muramasa blade-

He wants a new host!

Desperation drove Sano into a dive under the desk, slamming his fist against a hidden glass panel. The force tore at part of his burning hand; as if the old scar Battousai had left on his finger had suddenly opened anew. Never thought I'd have to use this thing-

Heavy wood was flung aside with a laugh. Jin-e reached for the scruff of his neck. "You think hiding will help you? You're more of a fool than I imagined!"

Blood flowing from two cuts, Sano dodged the assassin's grasp, grimly reaching for what painted glass had kept hidden. Not a weapon. Not a defense, either; at least, not for him. A last-ditch measure most Target Alpha agents knew of, but never considered installing in their own homes... unless they'd seen someone's life and soul vanish forever, sucked into the cyborg hive-mind of the technological Virus.

Fighting magic's pull on his wounded hand, Sano flipped the single red switch. "Buh-bye."

Mad green eyes widened.


Ears still ringing from the blast, Jin-e stalked out of sight before the first sirens could pull up, sneer turned to a black frown. It wasn't right. Hosts weren't supposed to die before he wanted them to.

Bird-head wouldn't have made a good host anyway. Not the way his ki had been fighting the cut, aided by an old taint of Battousai's magic.

But it would have been so much fun to face Battousai with his friend's face...

It doesn't matter. He's dead. If Battousai's not over the edge yet, he will be. Jin-e's smirk reappeared. Especially if... oh, yes.

You shouldn't have gone to her, Battousai. You shouldn't have told her. She's Crowley now... and fair game. To any of us.

Not that her ignorance would have stopped him. But that she would know... oh, it made it so much sweeter.

Laughing, Jin-e vanished into the shadows.


"Sanosuke. Sanosuke!" Kenshin shook Kaoru's cell phone, heart in his throat, not wanting to believe what he'd heard. Not wanting to believe what he wasn't hearing, through the dull ring of an empty line.

'Sanosuke!'

There was a stabbing pain in his right hand, a sense of tearing, of - loss-

'Sanosuke! No!'

The phone dropped from nerveless fingers. Dimly Kenshin heard Kaoru yelp and snatch it from air, felt Yahiko's hand touch his arm as his brother demanded to know what was wrong.

Everything is wrong. Everything.

It hurt, like a blow to the gut; like the moment one of New York's finest in sober, pressed uniform had knocked on the door, and he'd - known.

Mom's not coming home. Ever.

He'd known, because he'd seen, he'd felt; he'd sensed the raw grief around Sergeant Aidan, the awful, tearing hole where his mother's friendship had been.

Partner/loved-from-afar/lady who drives me home when I've had too many-

Brave, reckless lady who saved my life-

All of that, gone; and the sorrow and pain of the man, the horror of what he'd seen, had torn through a young boy in one blinding flash of grief.

And I never wanted to see that again. Ever.

So he'd shut it all away, buried that odd knowing so deep he'd forgotten it. Driven himself into the study of how Wonderful Things ran, building walls around his heart of the shop and numbers and crafts of the past to the point that he didn't even care when his father brought home a new wife just a few months later. So long as he never felt that wrenching pain again, he didn't care what happened; and if he didn't love her, didn't hate her, he knew he'd never bleed for Sadako the way he had for his mother.

And it had worked. It had worked - though when the hospital had notified him about the accident, and his first reaction had been please, gods, not Yahiko too-

So the walls had cracks. It didn't matter. They'd been holding.

They weren't anymore.

"Yahiko, give me a hand." Kaoru was gripping one of his shoulders, alternately pushing and tugging. "I think if we can get him back inside - okay, he wants a tree, we can do a tree..."

He leaned against the steady presence of the gnarled old apple tree in the building courtyard; the most ancient tree in this hidden garden, green fruits just beginning to swell on thin branches, with a slumbering sense of wisdom gained through years surviving New York. The warmth of sun-struck bark soaked through cotton. Kenshin pressed his shoulders against it and tried to think of nothing. Nothing at all.

It hurts.

'Sanosuke.' Steel keened its grief in his soul. 'I should have been there, I should have... gods damn you, Jin-e!'

"Kenshin!" Kaoru's hands shook his shoulders. "Kenshin, talk to us, you're scaring Yahiko-"

"Is not!" his brother interjected, indignant.

"Well, he's scaring me, you idiot!" Kaoru turned back to him. "Kenshin, snap out of it. I'd say you're pale as a ghost, but I'm getting the idea that that's not funny anymore-"

"He's gone, Miss Kaoru," Kenshin whispered. "Sanosuke's gone."

"Oh. Oh, no." Kaoru raised a hand near her lips. "But... you've never even met him. Why are you crying?"

Pulling the saya from his obi, Kenshin smiled faintly through the tears, remembering one horrible night so many years ago. "Steel can't cry."

He sat down against the base of the tree, cradling the sword in his arms. It's all right.

'Kenshin-'

No one... no one was there for me. There was this hole, this awful, gaping abyss where Mom's ki should have been, and no one else could see it. And I - I didn't know what was wrong with me, I just knew I was so alone, and it hurt... Kenshin closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. No one should go through that alone. No one.

Thumb rubbing the braided hilt, he let Battousai's tears fall.


I want to panic.

Bokken in hand, Kaoru jumped off the last step of the bus, making sure she stayed in grabbing range of Yahiko. The kid had one of her outgrown speckled-yellow gis on over his torn t-shirt, a shinai over his shoulder, and a wide grin that belonged on a motorcyclist out to catch bugs with his teeth. And why not? He'd just walked by three of the meanest, ugliest gang-bangers on their piece of public transit, and none of the young thugs had dared do anything other than watch them walk away.

Oh, they'd meant to be trouble. Battousai might not be visible, and eyes seemed to glide over Kenshin's swordsman's outfit as if he were wearing a suit and tie, but her instructor's gi and blue hakama were quite obviously not New York chic. Couple that with the fact that she was small, and pretty - Kaoru had taken one look their way and winced, all too aware that choosing clothes she could fight in now meant she'd have to put up with at least ten minutes of lewd comments. And you couldn't thump a man for comments, though if those tattooed hands strayed within a few inches, she'd smack first and claim attempted groping later.

Only as the smarmiest of the bunch drew a breath and swaggered toward their bench, Kenshin had just... looked at them. Cool. Calm. Eyes still raw with tears, creased in a faint, cold smile that somehow broadcast to the world he'd be just as cool and calm stepping over their prone corpses.

And the head thug had suddenly shut up, and led his boys away.

I really want to panic.

Kenshin cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something she couldn't hear. "It's clear."

"Cool," Yahiko breathed, following his brother toward their closed shop. Two or three leather and plaid-clad loiterers were already hanging around the entrance, eyeing the posted hours and the "Sorry, we're Closed" sign beside them with a frown.

That's right, Kenshin's usually working today. What a mess. "You're sure?" Kaoru asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Kenshin hesitated. "This... sense is new to me, that it is. I know I cannot pick up very much, or very far. But Tani's men had no sense of how to shield their ki. Were they here, I would know, that I would."

Kaoru listened to the rhythm of Irish working its way back into the man's voice, and tried not to sigh with relief. Okay, that sounds more like Kenshin.

Now if only he'd move more like Kenshin, I'd stop wanting to scream and run for the hills.

No chance of that; Kaoru saw him slide through the waiting clients to unlock the door with a graceful ease that belied the quiet shopkeeper she knew he was. Quick. Subtle. Not Kenshin.

At least, not the Kenshin who'd never picked up a sword.

But this is what he could be, maybe, the kenjutsu instructor knew, trailing would-be customers inside. I've seen Yahiko working at it, I know how much that kid loves the sword. If his brother ever let his guard down enough to try - there's potential there. I can see it.

"Sorry to have kept you - a sudden illness in the family - yes, Ms. Bivens, we did get the sistrums you were looking for. Twenty, was that right? About the other items... I think you might wish to buy malachite, instead of galena, if you truly mean your actors to wear the ground stone as eye-shadow."

"Hey, we're trying for real history here," the forty-dressed-as-twenty Ms. Bivens snapped her gum, drumming spangled nails on the sales counter with typical Brooklyn bored nonchalance. "Not just your typical Egypt-a-rama."

"And galena would be accurate for the time you portray," Kenshin allowed. "It also has lead in it..."

"Ten minutes, and he'll have her take the green stone and think it's all her idea," Yahiko said under his breath, leading her through rows of shelves toward another locked door. He opened it, skipping through; following in his wake, Kaoru saw this small corridor actually led into a few rooms. Bathroom, mini-break nook, inventory, computerized office - aha.

Yahiko was a step ahead of her, diving into the surprisingly modern file cabinets. "He keeps everything by alphabet here. Keeps it cross-referenced other ways on the computer, but he always says he wants something here he can grab if the lights go out."

Kaoru started flipping through folders from the other end of the open drawer. "So we're looking for a folder on Tani?"

"Yeah." Yahiko glared at manila and paper. "Stupid Stone Age waste of space..."

"You'd rather be on the computer." Kaoru moved from Tuppers to Thomases, and kept going forward. "Why aren't you? You have keys to the store."

"The rest of the store, sure." Yahiko crossed his arms, glaring at the inactive monitor. "But he doesn't give me the password. He never gives me the password."

Let's see, Kaoru thought wryly. Have my little brother ticked off at me, or let a thirteen-year-old have access to my customers' records and all my financial stuff. Gee, tough call.

Oh, and don't forget we're being sardonic because we're trying not to run screaming into the Hudson...

"Target Alpha is not the police, that they are not," Kenshin had told her back at her apartment, when she'd asked why they didn't just dial the supernatural equivalent of 911. "They are... think of them more as U.S. Marshals, with less people to answer to. They pursue killers. They step in to block the more vicious Kin from plots against the people of this city. But first and foremost, they eliminate evidence of the supernatural, so innocents are not caught up in human witch hunts." He'd caught her gaze with his own, steel-blue glinting in faded violet. "We are evidence, Miss Kaoru."

"But-" Yahiko had started, wide-eyed.

"They have lost two field agents, Yahiko," his brother said matter-of-factly. "They will be angry. And anger clouds thought. Were we to approach them now, their first impulse would be to wipe our memories, take Battousai, and leave us to the NYPD."

"With those werewolves still out there?" Yahiko burst out. "We'd be sitting ducks!"

"Which is why we have to find the information Sanosuke asked for, isn't it?" Kaoru cocked her head, studying Kenshin. "We need a bargaining chip."

"That we do," Kenshin said softly.

She'd let Yahiko get a little ahead of them both walking down the corridor, then grabbed Kenshin's short ponytail. When did he grow his hair out? Never mind - grab first, ask questions later. "You could call them right now, couldn't you? Battousai has to know someone who'd believe you've got the sword. Right?"

"Itai, itai..." Kenshin rubbed the back of his head, half-heartedly trying to pry her hand off. "It's not that simple, Miss Kaoru. Most field agents don't come into headquarters unless it's a true emergency. There are codes, special numbers-"

"And Battousai's smart enough to know ways around all that. You could call them. But you won't." Kaoru tightened her grip. "Why am I getting the suspicious feeling that Target Alpha doesn't trust Battousai?"

He sighed. "They don't, Miss Kaoru. He's Kin. Older than Target Alpha; older than many Kin here in New York. At least as old as the Bakumatsu. He is not human. And while he has worked with them to protect humans for almost half a century, no, they do not trust him."

She let go of his hair. "So why do you?"

Kenshin had started to speak. Stopped. Shrugged helplessly. "Someone once said, a friend is someone who sees through you and still likes the view. I've seen him, Miss Kaoru. I feel his ki against mine like the first winds of a storm, sweeping over the horizon. If I said he did not frighten me, I would be lying." He took a breath. "But he saved my life. And Yahiko's. And... he hurts, Miss Kaoru. Sanosuke was his friend, and he hurts so very deeply. Human or not, I will not yield him into the hands of those who hate him."

You found a dragon with a thorn in its paw, and you just can't walk away, Kaoru thought now. Japanese duty mixed in with Irish stubborn, what a mess. Only in New York.

"...Tani, Jusanro," Yahiko yanked the thin folder out. "Gotcha."

"Then let's get out of here," Kaoru said decisively. "You grab Kenshin, I'll start getting the customers out." From what Battousai had told her, Jin-e was crazy even for Kin, ignoring the supernatural creatures' unwritten rule number three: keep Kin fights among Kin only. If he'd tracked them here, a crowd of ignorant bystanders wouldn't do anything but add to the casualty list.

She nodded at Kenshin as they came to the front. He glanced at the folder in Yahiko's hands, and gave her a relieved smile as he set a nervous art student's parcel of inks and brushes by the register and picked up the phone. "I need to speak to Uramura, please," Kaoru overheard him say. "Yes, I know this line is unlisted - no, I will not hold. Tell him Sagara asked me to provide him information, personally." Kenshin's voice dropped, pleasantness stretched thin. "On Kurogasa. Or is that not important enough for his time?"

"Oh, my, that sounds serious," an older lady pressed a purple-gloved hand to her lips in prim disapproval as she gathered up her packages. Fumbled one to the floor, and sighed. "These bones get creakier every year..."

"Here, let me help you with those." Kaoru scooped parcels of several stores, including just one from Wonderful Things, off the floor, and opened the front door with a smile.

"So thoughtful of you, dear." Gray-streaked head held high, the lady strode out toward a waiting cab. "Would you mind...?"

"No, of course not." Kaoru balanced the extra packages in her arms, heading for the waiting backseat. Most of her mind was on keeping hold of the wrapped parcels; the lady couldn't have chosen more awkward shapes to fit together if she'd tried. But no kendo instructor ignored people completely; she saw the lady stumble slightly over an irregular slant of the concrete sidewalk, and recover her footing, and felt her nerves tighten. Wait. That wasn't an old woman's move.

"Federal agent," the woman said, the old lady's querulous tone dropping from her voice like a discarded scarf. "Your life is in danger. Get into the car."

"Like heck!" Kaoru dropped the parcels and tried to bolt.

A thunderbolt cut her legs from under her. Tazer. God-

"You'll thank us for this later," the disguised woman muttered, bending over her with cuffs in hand. "The man in there - he's not who you think he is. He's under the influence of someone wanted for a particularly brutal homicide. I just hope Weston can get the kid out before the control team has to go in-"

Smack! Crack!

Bokken in her right hand, Kaoru yanked the fish hooks out and cracked the agent another blow across her right arm for good measure. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she could move. Thank god for Dad's lessons. "If you're going to use it for self-defense, know what it feels like to get hit by it."

Oh god, Kenshin wasn't kidding. They're after Battousai - they're going to try to take Yahiko! She dashed for the shop.

A roaring motorcycle engine caught her first.

Still-numb feet left the ground; she saw a blur of red slam the shop door open. "Miss Kaoru!"

The black glove was hot and heavy over her mouth, thick with a sweet, perilous scent. A swordsman's arms crushed her to the dark-cloaked frame with inhuman strength. "I see it, I see it, Battousai! I see this girl is your host's woman!"

Kenshin dashed after them down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, agents, and a three-card Monte game, face pale with fear and shock. "Jin-e, you monster!"

"Get mad! Get mad!" The assassin sneered, weaving down the sidewalk as if pedestrians were so many ants to be crushed. "Get mad like you did last night, when I slashed your bird-haired friend; like you did this morning, when I killed him! Wipe out that fool of a host; turn back into your old self of the Bakumatsu!"

Green eyes glowed with anticipation. "Into the incomparably cruel hitokiri..."

Gloved fingers left her face a moment, flicked a strip of paper into the wind. "I'll wait here, Battousai!"

Kaoru gulped in untainted air, fighting to stay conscious. "Kenshin!"

The motorcycle roared under them, swooping into the street, pulling away from Kenshin with uncaring ease. "Uhu-hah-hah-hah!"

"Jin-e!"

And just as the drug overwhelmed her, Kaoru could have sworn violet eyes melted into pure, blazing amber.


He took her.

I'm going to kill him.

Kenshin breathed hard, one fist clenched on the Japanese writing he'd snatched from the wind, unable to sort his own rage from the frozen fury that was Battousai. Unable, for one long moment, to care.

He took her!

'And he will pay...'

Knuckles white, Kenshin looked up. Something was off. A feeling of wind, of space, that just shouldn't exist on a New York sidewalk.

There wasn't a person within twenty feet. And anyone just outside that range - including the formerly intrepid card dealer - was hastily finding an elsewhere to be. What-?

'Oh, k'so.'

"Edging in public." The disguised agent raised a shaking weapon. "Take him down!"

I don't think so.

Kenshin yielded to the cold fury, tracking the path of the tranquilizing darts before they could come anywhere near him. He dodged two, ducked aside from a third; reached out to brush the fourth, slowest, from whistling air. "I hope you're not allergic," he growled.

"Wha-"

The gray-haired agent gasped as the dart went home in her own neck. Her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed.

'Gray wig,' Battousai observed in disgust as it fell free. The sword took control long enough to dig his fingers behind her ear, coming up with a miniature two-way radio. 'She's one of Uramura's!'

A control team member dressed for daylight work. Like that would-be "art student" he'd left unconscious with Yahiko when he'd felt Kaoru's bolt of fear...

Yahiko!

'I know control teams.' Battousai drew dimming shadow about his ki, controlling their mingled rage with chill precision. 'Uramura errs on the side of caution. We still have a few seconds.'

Just enough time.

He dashed back into the shop, grabbing a startled yellow gi. "Kenshin," his brother started, shinai pointing at the unconscious agent sprawled behind the counter, "You want to stop and tell me why you hit this- urk!"

Yahiko slung over his shoulder, he locked the door. Stepped into the reforming New York crowds. And vanished.

'It's not magic,' Battousai pointed out, guiding Kenshin's steps to match the flow of the crowd. 'You know how New Yorkers move. I know how to use crowds to hide. Meld it together, and we become invisible.'

"Um - down - you mind?"

Stepping out of the flow into a nook between two shop doors, Kenshin lowered Yahiko to the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, that I am. We had to move quickly."

"Unconscious lady on the sidewalk, trank darts - yeah, I got that," Yahiko waved his hands. "What happened? Where's Kaoru?"

"Jin-e took her." Just when he'd gotten yet another of Uramura's underlings on the phone, and realized the control team leader was stalling for time - damn Jin-e, that had to have been deliberate! The hitokiri could cloak his ki; the bastard could have come and gone, and he'd never have known anything was wrong until Kaoru's fear blazed like a beacon.

'He meant to keep Target Alpha from interfering. He meant to taunt us. He meant-'

To make you angry enough to take me, Kenshin finished silently.

The sword's rage shook him with teeth of steel. 'I want him dead!'

And yet he was still holding back. Kenshin felt that iron control, that slim hold of honor and will over pure, focused instinct. The tearing agony of choice.

'If I gave in - if I took you - I would be no more than Jin-e is. A curse upon the world; a tainted blade delighting only in the taste and color of blood. I will not live as such a creature!

'Sanosuke wouldn't want that...'

"Jin-e took her?" Yahiko gulped. "Why?"

"The same reason he led those werewolves to our doorstep," Kenshin said softly. "The same reason he killed Sanosuke. He wants a fight. With Battousai."

"But you're not going to do it," Yahiko said fiercely. "Kenshin! You told us about this guy, remember? He's not easy, not like those werewolves. He's a killer! You can't - you can't-"

"If I don't go, Miss Kaoru will die," Kenshin said matter-of-factly. Stroked mussed dark hair, staring at his little brother's face as if he could etch it into his heart. "And then he will come for you. And I... cannot let that happen."

'Kenshin.' Fury had humbled, softened. 'Are you sure?'

Will you look after Yahiko? After... Kenshin swallowed, mouth dry.

'I am not Jin-e. If you choose this,' Longing swept him, still held by fraying strands of honor. 'If you choose me, we will look after him.'

"Then there's nothing else to say." Loosening the blade in its sheath, Kenshin rested his thumb against the razor edge. And slashed it down.

"Kenshin, you idiot!" Yahiko grabbed his bleeding hand. "What did you do - that - for..." Meeting his brother's gaze, he went pale. "Your eyes..."

"We need a cab," Kenshin stated. "I'm going to send you someplace safe." If anywhere is safe.

'Katsuhiro Tsukioka is safe,' Battousai said bluntly. 'He's Crowley, connected to Golgotha, a vampire Elder even the head of Target Alpha won't cross, and - he was Sano's friend. There's nowhere safer.'

You're sure, Kenshin asked some few minutes later, as he watched the yellow cab pull away with his brother and a copied note for Tsukioka. He felt - dizzy. Odd. His cut thumb burned, as if he'd rubbed it in cayenne.

'I'm sure the change is going to start soon, and Yahiko shouldn't see it.' A soft sigh. 'Let's go. We need to be out of sight... and the closer we are to where Jin-e wants us, the more time we'll have.'

"It would help if I knew where he wanted us, that it would," Kenshin muttered, making his way through the crowds.

'Just read the note.'

"I don't read Japanese!"

'Sou ka? Then how did you send Yahiko with a copy?'

Kenshin unfolded inked characters. Shapes blurred, turning from scribbled art to lines of meaning and purpose.

Central Park. Midnight.

"How-" Kenshin shook the question away. "So where do we go?"

'We're going to be unconscious several hours.'

"In Central Park?"

'That's why I want you up in a tree.'

"I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this..."


'Climbing is not as hard as it looks, Kenshin,' Battousai said sometime later, as they worked their way up into an ancient oak. 'Grip there, plot your path to the next few branches, find the next hold-'

Kenshin paused, wiping sweat from his face with his sleeve. It was summer, but not that hot. Fire lanced down his nerves from his hand. And he ached. Horribly. I'm running a fever.

'There is a reason Target Alpha calls it a Kin infection.' Distraction touched him. 'Up there. We'll be out of sight, and there's enough room to curl up.'

Anything to stop. Just for a while. He struggled up the last foot, cramping himself into a thicket of interwoven branches over a strong supporting limb. Leaned against the trunk, too weary and sick to care if there were ants lurking in wait. Shivered. Is this what dying is?

'Oh, young one. You're not dying.' Battousai's voice was within and without, stroking his ki as a potter would new clay, testing it in his grip before molding it into the form he sought. 'You've never been more alive.'

The pain intensified, and Kenshin's fingers bit into tree bark. It felt like dying.

'I'm sorry. I could ease this if we had more time-'

Don't! Kenshin thought fiercely. Kaoru...

'Then sleep, young one. Sleep through as much of it as you can.'

Another pulse of fire radiated from the cut, and everything went dark.


Anything. Battousai marveled at the reality; he was here, free, with a willing bearer, and none of the magical bonds he'd been forced to take over the decades working with Target Alpha. I can do anything. Touch anything. Change anything.

Change everything...

The ki was both the easiest and hardest to shift. Easy, in that it had already begun to be accustomed to him, shaping itself to his presence. Hard, in that here lay the heart of all his work. Every change, every magic he worked on Kenshin's form, would rest on this foundation.

And this I have been bound from, so many years...

Battousai sank into the human's ki like tears into a still pool, dissolving bits of his magic, his very self, to mix with its farthest edges. Other bearers had bound him to change only that one point where his ki linked with theirs; a weld that could be broken by Target Alpha's sorcerers at need, not the layered alloy of magic and ki he craved. It sufficed, but it left him weak. Unable to exercise his full strength.

And Kenshin will need all of that.

Something jolted against his magic. If he'd been flesh, he would have swallowed back a sudden feeling of nausea. 'Kenshin. Easy, now. Don't fight. This is right. This has to happen... oh kami, I have not had the freedom to do this since Kyoto...'

He fed in more of his magic, blending it into the fire of a human spirit before Kenshin could struggle. Stroked it in, tantalizing his host into accepting it with the projection of warmth, home, rightness. Nuzzled at the changing ki, smothering the human's instinctive alarm with all his gratitude, his caring, his respect for Kenshin's love of his brother, his joy in Kaoru's stubborn strength.

Gradually the struggle ceased. Stilled. Battousai...

Still aware of him. Amazing. Though he could feel that awareness diffuse, confused; beginning to toss and turn as it found itself - different. Lacking. Needing.

Everything I am, is here for you.

The form might be human, but the ki was balanced on a knife-edge. He felt it searching itself. Regarding his offer.

And then it chose.

Mine, oh kami, mine...

Battousai felt part of himself swept within Kenshin's soul, felt it knot on itself and fall into oblivious sleep.

'It's all right. Rest now. The hardest part is over. Or yet to come.'

Now there was only the waiting, and the changing. The physical alterations were simple enough; now that their pattern rang through Kenshin's ki, living itself would have led his body to shift.

But to face Jin-e, we cannot be human. Even for one night.

So he worked through sunset into night, burning magic to shape flesh and bone closer to its final form. Here was strength, and here agility, and here the dire, terrible speed that was the hallmark of Hiten Mitsurugi. There wasn't enough time to shape it all, Jin-e hadn't left them that, but every bit he could do was that much more in favor of Kaoru's survival-

Something shivered.

Abandoning his work, Battousai shifted against his bearer's soul, feeling it tremble like a chrysalis in spring. Yes. That's it. Push, little one. Just a little harder...

And the hard knot cracked, spilling forth light and fire.

'Welcome back, Kenshin.'


Aniki - older brother.
Sumimasen - Excuse me.
Itai - ow.
K'so - "Damn."
Sou ka? - Is that so?