A/N: Spent a lovely day fishing. And thanks legolas, I actually typed peeing instead of peeping. That was hilarious. Made my day.
royal blueKitsune: Fatigue and stress tend to bring out people's worst side. Reading and writing about someone who's always prim and proper would be dull. Hopefully she'll be better with some rest.
omasuoniwabanshi: Impressive attention to details. Farmers don't do any farming per se in the dead of winter, but there're still the animals to tend to. Some of them also take on artisanship or woodcutting, or at least they did in Europe. Oh, and I didn't find your reviews snarky at all.

The first rays of daylight weren't upon them yet that Kaoru and Megumi were prepared and ready to go. It was true that they had little belongings—one would be tempted to say almost none at all. They'd washed their faces, done their hairs, and donned their clothes. Then they went out.

Kamiya Kaoru, after all, wasn't one to be discouraged by a failure or ten.

It was dark outside, but the stars on the sky dome were already beginning to fade. Clouds loomed into view, few but seemingly growing in number before Kaoru's very eyes. A gust of wind howled by, twirling her ponytail, flattening the cloth of her kimono against her chest. The scent of winter filled her nostrils, and a cloud of dust rose to her face. She closed her eyes, and shielded herself with her hands.

The day promised to be wet, Kaoru thought, and windy. Better make haste before the pour caught them. Kyoto wasn't too far away now. They would be, if fate willed it, in its sturdy walls before the end of the day.

They walked into the stables. He was there.

Of course, he had to be there. Kaoru gave a resigned sigh. Did the man ever sleep? He was washing the gray mare's coat, spraying fresh water on it and then brushing it down. The horse submitted valiantly, trembling slightly, sometimes puffing. His hand, she saw, was firm yet soft, almost caressing, and its motion had an almost hypnotic quality to it. Kaoru felt calmed just by looking at it.

She shook herself. "Good morning, sir," she called.

He didn't pause in his task. "Good morning to you, miladies." He stole a glance skyward. "Well, not yet morning. You are up early, miladies."

"We couldn't wait to be on the road again, sir Shinta," pipped Megumi. "We went to call you. Imagine our surprise when we didn't find you in your room. You are such an early riser, sir. I hope you are rested enough." Megumi was lying with such nerve that Kaoru couldn't help but admire her.

He looked sidelong, a very slight curve on his lips. "I am fine, thank you, my lady," he said. "I would be more concerned about you. I wanted to leave you an hour or two of rest, while I tended to the horses."

He seemed to be in fine spirit today, Kaoru thought. It was at such odd with the closed face he bore the day before. It was as if he was another man entirely. His expression, while he was working, was serene, almost… genial. Innocent, a boy sheltered from the violence of this world, a far cry from the cold swordsman who had cut through half a dozen thugs without as much as a blink.

She remembered how they had sat down the worn-out rock last night, how they had admired the stars together, how she had experienced the first moment of sheer peacefulness in weeks. All her worries had been forgotten then. She remembered his musky scent too, subtle and male.

She pondered this other facet of his as she approached the second horse. Which one was the true him? Both? She took a water-filled bucket lying nearby, and poured the fresh liquid all over the horse. The mare snorted, but remained still. She began brushing it. "Help me, Megu," she called quietly. She saw Shinta glance in her direction. "Lovely creatures, aren't they?" she asked. Then she beamed at him. Why not, she thought, it was worth a try.

"Indeed," he acknowledged.

And then he smiled back. It was a soft smile, but a genuine one. Not an ironic smirk, not a half-hearted smile. A real one.

For some reason she felt happy.

When the time came to hit the trail once more, he gestured to her to ride with him again. She accepted without protest, in a mood that could only have been called odd. She wondered briefly why he always offered to ride with her and not with Megumi. Maybe he actually liked her, and was too shy to admit it? She laughed silently at the idea, and discarded it immediately. Whatever he was, shy wasn't it.

The ambush came around midday.

They'd been ridding in silence, the lady Kaoru comfortably snuggled against him, and he in a mood that could only have been described as odd. They were making good progress, doubly pressed by their common desire to reach Kyoto as soon as possible, and the threatening weather. The path they traveled upon was seldom used, and they crossed only a few farmers and a single village on their journey south. The wind was picking up, although the air was actually warmer than it had been the day before. Thy sky rumbled, and flashes lighted the dark clouds above from time to time.

They'd reached a woody mountain when Kenshin felt the killing intent. Five, no, six of them. He pulled sharply the reins. The mare reared up, and neighed loudly, startled. Behind him, the other horse almost ran into his. Luckily, they weren't riding at full gallop, and the lady Megumi stopped her mare in time.

He dismounted, entrusting the reins to lady Kaoru. "Wait here," he ordered. He sounded terse, even to his own ears. The prospect of battle had an unwelcome tendency to darken his mood.

Instinctively, his body readied itself for the fighting to come. His muscles relaxed, his attention sharpened. He cleared himself off all unnecessary thoughts. He felt the familiar lucidity in his mind, the enhanced sensorial awareness, and the cold detachment that came with it. He had experienced this transition from human to simple killing machine many times before; he disliked it, yet couldn't deny the almost carnal pleasure that came from it.

He walked forwards a hundred feet on the tree-bordered path. A gust of wind brought the bitter smell of sweat and steel to him. "I know you are here," he called, making sure his voice, while still low, would be carried out to their ears. "Come out."

Nothing happened for a few moments. They would be hesitating, he thought, unsure of themselves for being found out so easily. Good. The psyche, after all, was more than half the outcome of such an encounter. He drew his katana out, the blade hissing loudly against its sheath.

The faint sound of a branch cracking on his left; someone gulping on his right. He waited, immobile. An eagle screeching, overhead. His posture remained relaxed, but he was ready to leap at the first opportunity.

"Withdraw, if you are but cowards," he called again. "Or come out like real men and fight me. I tire of waiting."

They came. All six of them at the same. At least they had discipline, he had to give them that. They charged without any battle cry. Judging by the sound of their steps alone, the first one to reach him would be one on his right, slightly behind him.

It came, just as he predicted. A horizontal thrust. He twisted his body slightly sideways, moved rearwards. The blade missed him by half a foot. Kenshin slashed, turning his body around his left heel. His katana cut neatly the man's neck, severing his head from his shoulders. His face, Kenshin noticed idly, didn't even have the time to register surprise.

Another one, coming in his back. Kenshin jerked a knee on the ground, feeling the hard surface against his skin. The sound of a swipe behind him, passing over his head. His hair felt the wind produced by the sword. Without looking back, Kenshin took his sheath in his left hand, and thrust it backwards to where he guessed his assailant's head to be. It connected, cracking bones with a sickening sound.

Two shadows crept over him. He jumped into the air before their blade made contact with the ground. Something moving caught his eyes. One of the men was running towards where he left the two women.

As he fell, he thrust his blade downwards, burying its tip straight between one of the men's eyes. Blood fountained out. Then, even as his feet landed again, he turned around, slashing his blade.

His opponent, somehow, blocked it with its own katana. A bearded warrior, older than he. No matter. He swung the sheath in his left hand. It caught the man on his left temple. He turned a half circle again, as fast as he could, and threw his sword towards the man running towards the women. It buried itself right between the shoulder blades.

His instinct, rather than his senses, told him of the blade coming in his back. He twisted his body, losing deliberately his balance, and held the sheath behind his back. That avoided him the kiss of the cold steel. He landed on the ground with a quick roll that put him immediately on one knee. His right hand drew out his wakizashi.

The man was on him already. Fast, he thought, as he parried. This one was definitely more accomplished a swordsman, and Kenshin was disadvantaged by his kneeling position. All he could do for now was to defend himself from the furious blows his assailant launched at him. He waited for an opening, patient.

There. It came between a flurry of steel, a slight gap in the man's defense. Kenshin didn't miss it. With a small flick of the wrist he knocked the man's blade slightly aside with the sheath, and he thrust, leaping from the ground. The wakizashi caught the man in his heart. Kenshin watched, emotionless, the warrior's shock as the light faded from his eyes.

That made five. There was a sixth. Kenshin looked around. A young man stood there, his head bald, his sword drawn in front of him, but his face was consumed with fear. His whole body was trembling, as he watched Kenshin, agape. He was sweating profusely. Ah, this one was more cowardly, Kenshin thought. Then again, he had cause; he just witnessed Kenshin taking out five men in less than a minute.

Kenshin took a step forwards. The man took one backwards, then two. "Sou-Sou…," he stammered, his lips quivering. "Where are you, Soujiro-sama?" he screamed. The sky thundered.

A voice, from somewhere amongst the trees. "Oh, sorry, sorry, I was so bored that I dozed off."

Kenshin froze, letting the man run away. So, there was another one. He hadn't sensed that one at all. He looked in the direction the voice came. A man sat on a branch, white kimono and blue hakama. Or rather, a boy. He couldn't be older than Kenshin himself. He jumped on the ground, facing Kenshin. He bore, Kenshin saw, a disarming smile on his innocent face.

"You," Kenshin declared, "are no mere bandit."

The boy's smile didn't fade. "Are you going to face me with just a wakizashi? I won't be as easy as the others, you know."

Kenshin frowned. The boy was giving him a warning? And letting him get his katana back? Too obvious to be a trap. He turned back, carefully, and walked slowly to where his sword was. The boy didn't move from his spot. Kenshin drew his katana from the body it was stuck into.

The man had been close to reaching the two women, he saw. Very close. Lady Kaoru sat on her mount but ten feet away, her own sword unsheathed, lady Megumi slightly behind. The mares must have been frightened by the scent of blood, and they still trembled with unease. Yet that they were under control instead of running wild bespoke volume about the ladies skills. Interesting. He looked straight into lady Kaoru's eyes.

She startled.

"Please remove yourself a little further," he said. "This may take some time." His voice sounded colder than the wintry air. For once he wished that it wasn't so.

She nodded at him, once. Her huge blue eyes were very wide.

The rain began to fall.