Author's Notes: Well, here's the final outcome of the vote:
Kasumi: 5
Ukyo: 1 (blame brindani for that one, hehe)
Akane: 0. Zero. Nada. Null. (Good thing, too. ;-P)
Misao: 1
Looks like Kasumi wins, folks! So, the gentle girl it is.
As for the reviews, thank you for your praise and critique alike! Always aiming to please, hehe.
BTB: Well, sorry you feel that way. I personally don't really like Akane, though...oh well. To each his own, I guess. Thanks for giving this story a try, though, I appreciate it!
Hiryo: Edo is what Tokyo was called before the Meiji Revolution. After they moved the capital from Kyoto to Edo, they renamed it Tokyo (so calling it Tokyo started in the Meiji Era, actually). As for the Ranma/Kenshin fight...won't happen. Sorry to disappoint you folks, but Kenshin ain't gonna spar. Though I think I found a decent replacement – I think this chapter's title kinda gives it away, hehe. I'm thinking about a Sano/Ranma fight, but all I come up with is that Sano is too much like Ryoga to be an actual challenge to Ranma (he's all strength and taking damage head-on, too, if a bit faster), so we'll see about that.
Now, I won't keep ya guys waiting any longer! Enjoy!
Chapter Nine: Sword of Heavens - Tenken
Seta Soujiro glanced around the unfamiliar street. He knew he was somewhere in Tokyo, however, at the moment, that knowledge didn't do him much good, as he had never actually spent much time in this city. His wanderings had brought him here, and when he saw a sign that read, "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu – Kenjutsu Dojo," he allowed himself a small smile. He had some news for Himura-san. The two years of wandering the country had led him to a conclusion. It had taken him less time than the ex-hitokiri, but he was just as content with the way of life the ex-Tenken had found for himself.
He knocked on the door, and was greeted to the surprised face of a young woman with long black hair drawn back in a ponytail, and dark brown eyes. She blinked at him, before asking, "Welcome to the Kamiya Kasshin dojo. What can I do for you?" Soujiro chuckled, barely recognizing the girl. "Is Himura-san home?" he asked, only to narrowly dodge a shinai.
"You'll never get Kenshin alive! Only over my dead bo-" the boy who assaulted him was cut off as a hand jerked him back by his collar. "Cut that out, Yahiko-chan," a tall boy said from behind the apprentice swordsman with a chuckle. Soujiro turned and sent a smile of gratitude at the young man, appraising him. He was tall and muscular, yet his grace showed off the underlying power and speed. His black hair was bound in a short pigtail, while his clear blue eyes seemed to assess him, as well.
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Ranma glanced at the visitor as he held back Yahiko with one hand. The young man before him was of medium height, and had unruly short brown hair that had a tendency to fall into his eyes, the pig-tailed martial artist noted amusedly. He noticed the visitor's eyes were in constant motion, evaluating him one moment and shifting to glance across the entire courtyard the next. His stance and fluid movements meant he had combat training, and Ranma couldn't help but notice the long wrapped package that he carried over his shoulder that no doubt held a sword. Clad in a light blue gi with a white button-up shirt underneath, and dark blue hakama, the young man before him struck a dashing image of a swordsman.
"You looking for Kenshin, he's in the back. I think he's still playing with Ayame and Suzume," he finally said, setting Yahiko down on the ground. The newcomer bowed in thanks. "Arigato. My name is Seta Soujiro." Ranma nodded in return, "Saotome Ranma."
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Soujiro ignored the startled gasp Kaoru let out at the mention of his name as he studied the pig-tailed martial artist before him amusedly. It gets odder every time, ne? He dodged a shinai that was announced by a yell of, "Die, Tenken!" only to notice Ranma was holding on to Yahiko again. "I said, cut that out Yahiko-chan." The boy exploded at the nickname and attempted to swing up and gnaw upon Ranma's head like he did with Sano, only to be countered and end up in a semi-serious strangle hold.
Ranma grinned and marched the boy away from the gate. "Ya got practice, Yahiko-chan. Kaoru, I'm borrowing Yahiko for a while." The woman nodded automatically, before turning back towards the young man still at the door. Soujiro offered her a warm smile, something he had discovered he liked to do after the disastrous attempt at taking over Japan. "I can understand your distrust in me, Kaoru-san, but I assure you I mean Himura-san no harm. People change."
The mistress of the Kamiya dojo eyed the ex-Tenken warily, before smiling slightly herself, sensing the honesty in his words. "The years have been good to you, Seta-san. Come on, I'm sure Kenshin would like to see you again."
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Kenshin glanced up when he saw Ranma march Yahiko past him, in the direction of the dojo floor. Yahiko, for his part, was struggling mightily to get loose, but it seemed the pig-tailed martial artist had a secure hold on the apprentice swordsman. Kenshin couldn't help but smile at the scene the two were making. His attention did turn to something else when he saw who else was coming around the corner into the yard.
"Soujiro!" The red-haired swordsman stood up from where he was playing with Doctor Gensai's granddaughters to greet the other man. He could see and sense the changes in and around the former assassin, and he smiled. Soujiro would have one heck of a story to tell. "It's good to see you again, as well, Himura-san." The ex-Tenken smiled. "I was passing through and thought I should pay you a visit, and let you know how things are." With a hint of mischief in his brown eyes, Soujiro added, "It didn't quite take me ten years."
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"Ranma-kun, where's Yahiko?" Kaoru asked when Ranma returned from the dojo a few hours later, alone. They were still sitting around the living room, sharing stories about the two years that had passed since they met. "He's still out, I think. Didn't even make it past two hours of sparring," the pig-tailed martial artist grumbled. Kaoru and Kenshin laughed, having grown accustomed to seeing their guest work out far longer than any of them had expected, showing his dedication to his art. "You didn't work him over too badly, I hope? He still has practice tomorrow."
"Don't worry, he's gonna be fine for it. Just sore as hell." Ranma chuckled as he nodded at Soujiro an waved at Misao. "I'll go start on dinner," he said as he continued through. "Really, Ranma, there's no need." The martial artist grinned at Kenshin. "I don't wanna freeload off of you guys. I'm not staying long, but I wouldn't feel right not helping out."
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"So, Saotome-san, you're a martial artist?" Ranma turned at the new voice that intruded the silence of the night. He wasn't expecting anyone to be out on the porch at this time of the night. "Yeah. Seta-san, wasn't it? Jus' call me Ranma. Saotome–san reminds me of oyaji, and that's something I'd rather forget." Soujiro arched an eyebrow at the way the boy spoke of his father, his curiosity piqued. "Just call me Soujiro, then. I haven't really done all that much to deserve much respect," the swordsman added.
That, in turn, caught Ranma's interest. The young man sitting down next to him didn't seem all that much older than he was, maybe a year or two, but he could sense an air of seriousity and regret behind the cheerful facade. "You're a swordsman, too? Kenshin seems to be pretty good, but he refuses to spar with me." Ranma opened up, trying to think of a topic. "Himura-san is...undoubtedly the best swordsman I have ever seen. I have never met such an intriguing person. When we fought, I was rather amazed by the passion he put into it, his will to live and come through for the sake of others." Soujiro smiled, a smile that came easier now and had a sincere quality to it he had lacked only a mere two years before.
"You two have fought?" The pig-tailed martial artist tensed up. Maybe the swordsman wasn't as friendly as he appeared to be. Sensing his discomfort, Soujiro smiled. "´Not anymore. That was two years ago, when I first met Himura-san. It is a long story, I suppose." "Really?" Can't be any weirder than what I've been through, Ranma thought with a chuckle.
Soujiro sighed and glanced up at the stars above. "You are aware of Himura-san's role during the Bakumatsu?" At Ranma's nod, the ex-Tenken continued. "He began as an assassin striking out from the shadows, always completely hidden, completely under cover. Then, during the last stages of the Bakumatsu, Himura-san stepped out into the open, working as a free sword for the Ishin Shishi. The person who took over the role of the man in the shadows was a man of equal skill, yet where Himura-san only wished to protect the people, Shishio-sama had great ambitions."
This was getting interesting, Ranma thought, although he could see where this was leading. Lemme guess...megalomaniac trying to take over Japan? He didn't know how right he was.
"After the Bakumatsu, while Himura-san was known as a hero to the men in power, Shishio-sama was a thorn in their side; one that was rather dangerous, with all the secrets he knew. If he spilled knowledge of some of the assassinations he had carried out to the public, the Meiji government would have fallen in short time. So, the new regime tried to rid themselves of him." Ranma nodded. "They killed him?"
"Tried to. He survived being shot and burned alive. The ten years between the end of the Bakumatsu and the Kyoto incident he spent building up his resources, gathering a syndicate around him. We were known as the 'Ten Swords', the Juppongattana. Ten of the best fighters who had found something at fault with the new regime, and wanted to see it gone. It was rather funny, some of us admired Shishio-sama, some of us hated him...yet we all followed him. The plan was to set spread havoc by killing the last 'great revolutionist', Okubo Tokimichi, then spreading fire around Kyoto, assassinating government officials in the chaos." Soujiro smiled sadly.
"Himura-san was bid to return to Kyoto and stop us. Our first fight was in Shingetsu village, just north of Kyoto. Himura-san had stopped to free the village from Shishio-sama. We ended it in a draw, if I remember right. I destroyed his sakabato, while he shattered my sword. Our second fight was in Kyoto. Himura-san, with the help of little Misao and her group of Oniwabanshu, had managed to stop us from setting fire. He also managed to sink the 'Purgatory', Shishio-sama's steel-plated battleship. He and his comrades returned to Kyoto, and we met in the Shrine of the Six Arches." Soujiro took a moment to glance back at the living room.
"What Himura-san now uses is not his original sakabato. This is, as I've heard, sakabato shinuchi, the principal forge of the holy sword it was intended to be. When we met again, he had acquired it from the son of the smith who forged his original sword. Our second duel was fought in the midst of Shishio-sama's hideout, on Mount Hiei. He was already injured and tired, yet he insisted on fighting on nonetheless." Running a hand along the cloth that covered his sword, the swordsman turned his eyes inwards for a moment.
"I used to be called the Tenken. When Shishio-sama found me, I was with my adoptive family. They...didn't treat me well. Like a slave, actually. They'd beat me and use me to do their manual labor, and when I cried they'd beat me some more. So, one day, I decided to just smile. I just found that I had no will to live anymore, that I was content to just die; I stopped feeling pain, stopped feeling hurt. They'd grow tired of it and leave me alone then. Shishio-sama found me one day and my lack of emotion, my lack of fear intrigued him. I...ended up having to kill them that day, for they were finally determined to rid themselvs of me. I was callled Tenken, 'Sword of Heavens', because of the way I used to fight. Because I used to seal away my emotions, I could fight without fear, without regret for killing, giving me that much of an edge against my opponents. That and my Shukuchi gave me pretty much an advantage against every opponent I have ever met. The Shukuchi surpasses even the Hiten Mitsurugi's godspeed. Yet, somehow, Himura-san managed to stand through my assault." He unconsciously rubbed across his chest.
"I realized that day, that even though I had an advantage by not knowing regret and fear, he became even stronger through his will to live. In the end, not even my Shukuchi could save me from Himura-san's Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki. It hurt like hell, but it opened my eyes. Himura-san was strong. He is by far the strongest swordsman I've ever met, and I think I'm beginning to understand why. The will to live, the need to protect others, is what drives our swordsmanship, and our passion for it. Without that passion, without that goal of protecting, without regret for the lives you are taking and respect for the art you are using, swordsmanship becomes not an art, but merely a set of rules for fighting, a way to kill. Without passion, kenjutsu can be precise and deadly, but never graceful and lethal. After he defeated Shishio-sama, and we of the Juppongattana were scattered, I decided that, if Himura-san took ten years on the road to find his truth, then maybe, I, too, would find a way of life I wanted to live."
Ranma nodded. He hadn't quite expected all that. "So, have you found what you were looking for?"When Soujiro nodded, the pig-tailed martial artist grimaced inwardly. Looks like wandering around for a couple a' years seems to be the common theme amongst all of us with a dark past. "What brings you here, Ranma?"
The pig-tailed martial artist shrugged. "Much the same, I guess. I'm jus' wandering around, trying to figure out some things for myself. Actually, I'm the heir to my school of martial arts, and I've been sent to master this one technique so I would be acknowledged as the heir and master of the school. But, I figured, since I finally got a break from the mess that's my life, I might as well try ta find a way to figure out how to solve it." Ranma shook his head. "I swear, my life's worse than a bowl of ramen." Soujiro chuckled at the reference.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Four official fiancees, thirty-seven already dealt with, seventeen people out for my blood, I'm almost insane because of some stupid training technique, and I got sold for food more often than I can count. Stupid Pops. What's so funny?" Ranma shot an irritated glance at Soujiro, who was currently shaking in suppressed laughter. "It's just...your life is a real mess. At least I had it easy. Be the bad guy, fight the good guy, get converted. You on the other hand..."Soujiro broke off as he started laughing again. Ranma sighed, before chuckling himself. "Yeah, if it weren't me in that situation I guess it'd be pretty funny."
When they'd both gotten themselves under control again, Ranma took a deep breath, staring up at the sky. "But honor demands that I marry one of three girls, I've got people blaming me for all that goes wrong in their lives, used to be in love with a person who absolutely doesn't trust me...There's no way I can make it out of this mess with my honor intact, except seppuku."
"Why does honor mean so much to you? You obviously remained in what you admitted was an untenable position for quite a while. Why endure it? Why not run away?"
"'The path of a martial artist is fraught with peril'," Ranma quoted sourly. "I grew up on the road with Pops, and he wasn't the best example of a father. I didn't have any friends, and I didn't have much of a family or a home. I don't have anything to call my own except my honor, and my Art. The Neko-ken technique nearly drove me insane, oyaji worked me to the edge of starvation each day. Training as a martial artist on the road was harsh, as is being the best. Constant challenges, never allowing yourself to loose. It never really enabled me to grow up and find friends. The things that kept me going were my passion for the Art and my honor. I had nothing else." Ranma smiled slightly. "Now's a different story. I got my mother back, I found friends, and I have people waiting for me to come back." The swordsman nodded as he understood. He himself had clung to the first – and only – thing that had presented himself as his way out, Shishio Makoto, because he had had nothing left to keep himself going except for his quickly waning will to live.
"So, what did you wanna do with your life? You gonna vow not to kill like Kenshin here?" Ranma finally asked, breaking the silence that had desceded upon them. Soujiro shook his head. "No. I realized the worth of human life and that it shouldn't be taken lightly. But...I also know that sometimes it is necessary to kill. Shishio-sama taught me once that if you're strong, you live; if you're weak, you die. And while Himura-san seems to believe that all people can be taught and bettered, I have seen proof of the contrary, unfortunately. As much as we don't like to admit it, in this increasingly capitalistic world honor starts meaning less and money starts meaning more. It has become a world where the strong live and the weak die." Ranma nodded as he recalled the slaver he'd killed on the road. "I draw my sword rarely, and only if the situation has no other way out. I won't kill as recklessly as I used to...but when it is necessary, I'll strike my opponent down," the swordsman whispered.
"If I have to be strong to continue living and protect others, then I will be strong. I cannot afford to be weak and die, not when I can make a difference. Himura-san might disagree, but I can live with it. This is my truth," he said.
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"He's good, isn't he?" Kaoru whispered as she, Kenshin and Soujiro stood in the dojo, watching as Ranma went through his kata. The sword the pig-tailed youth was holding was a mere flash of silver as he lashed out at the air, striking invisible targets at almost impossible speeds. An effortless jump nearly put him through the roof of the dojo, a subtle shift of his body allowing him to stay in the air longer than should be possible. Each strike of the blade was precise, lethal, executed with a deadly accuracy and grace, a deadly shadowfight that had only one outcome: death, for whoever would be facing it. It was hard to believe the boy had come up with the kata himself, having had no previous swordsmanship training.
Then the pig-tailed martial artist put away his blade and began to dance. If the inhabitants of the Kamiya dojo thought their guest had been elegant before, now he was grace and power incarnate. Flowing through the free-form kata like water around rocks, at times violent and fast like a raging river, at times tranquil and gentle as a calm brook, the pig-tailed martial artist meshed styles as he moved through his excercise with an ethereal grace that made his former sword dance look sluggish in comparison.
The two swordmasters carefully hid their smiles as they observed his excercise, the passion he had for it, the way he had turned fighting into an Art in its own right. This was the way martial arts was supposed to be, both thought. A form of art, something that transcended the boundaries of strong and gentle, fast and slow, something beyond the power of karate and kempo, and the tranquility of tai chi. And here, was its master. Suddenly, Ranma picked up the pace, and even Kenshin and Soujiro had to strain their eyes to make out more than the blurred form of the martial artist as he lashed out with bare hands and legs, the air pressure generated by his strikes noticeable even across the dojo. Kaoru gasped at the almost casual display of a speed that rivalled even the Hiten Mitsurugi's godspeed.
When Ranma came to a finish in a ready stance, he heard clapping from across the dojo and noticed he had an audience. Blushing slightly and squirming under the scrutiny of the three swordfighters at the door he walked over to where he had put down his sword and a towel. "I have to revise my opinion, Ranma-kun. You're an outstanding martial artist," Soujiro told him. "I came to train, but maybe, would you care for a spar?" Sano choose this moment to enter the dojo, catching the tail end of the swordmans's question. "You're just looking for an excuse to beat the up the kid," he chuckled. "No way in hell he can take on the Tenken."
Ranma grinned as he caught his breath and dried the sweat off his face. "You do know I never back down from a challenge, do you?" With his trademark cocky smirk, he picked up a bokken from the wall, sliding it into his belt. Soujiro did the same, and the two combatants faced off in the middle of the floor, bowed to each other, and waited for the signal. Kenshin eyed the two carefully with a small smile, before he shouted, "Hajime!"
Soujiro seemed to disappear as he charged forwards, his opponent merely waiting with a smirk on his face. Sano grinned. "This is gonna be over real fast."
With a rasp, Ranma slid his bokken out of his belt and stepped slightly to the side. A resounding crack filled the dojo as the two blades met, Soujiro's pressing forward and sidewards, Ranma's intercepting it with the side of the blade. The two separated and started circling. Soujiro dashed in, striking low, only to be blocked, came up to parry a diagonal swing aimed at his midsection, and lashed out in an arc as he turned around, in a strike that would decapitate his opponent.
Ranma ducked under the swing, pivoted on one foot, and brought the bokken up and around in a horizontal swing that connected to Soujiro's unprotected back – or would have. The pig-tailed martial artist had not counted on his opponent's speed, and a burst of his Shukuchi took Soujiro a safe distance away from him. Ranma eyes his opponent warily, trying to read his stance...and came up with nothing. Soujiro had assumed the basic kenjutsu middle-guard stance of Chuudan, sword held at the waist, angled up at his opponent's throat. A serene smile played around his lips, causing Ranma to frown.
This time, it was Ranma who attacked, his blade flashing in complicated patterns as he sought to penetrate his opponents defenses, but Soujiro managed to parry his strikes, only to counter with a thrust that caused Ranma to sidestep, allowing Soujiro to put distance between them again. The pig-tailed boy's eyes narrowed as Soujiro began tapping his feet on the ground. "You're very good with a sword, Ranma-kun. Your attacks are all executed flawlessly and brilliant in tactics," Soujiro commented, before disappearing, leaving behind a series of shockwaves as he closed the distance between them.
"Shukuchi!" Sano whispered. The former figher-for-hire had seen first hand how fast and powerful this technique was, so fast, in fact, that even Kenshin had been having trouble keeping up with it. Shooting a glance at said red-haired swordsman, Sano noted idly that he still had that smile on his face as he watched the fight progress, seemingly not overly worried about the outcome.
A loud kiai from Ranma brought their attention back to the match on the floor. The pig-tailed martial artist had his blade extended in front of him, and was swinging it to his left, a split second too late as the strike connected, throwing him against the far wall of the dojo. "But still, you have no chance of beating me with a sword," Soujiro added. The boy rose, breathing heavily, grasping his bokken tightly as he assumed a defensive stance. Soujiro charged again. Ranma's blade flashed out in an arc to intercept an invisible strike, once again a fraction of a second too late as the blow raked across his back.
This time, Ranma was having visible trouble rising again. Sweat was dripping heavily from his face as he took deep, shuddering breaths. His head lowered, he switched his sword to his left hand, letting it hang limply at his side. "Come," he whispered, so quietly only Soujiro could hear. The swordsman was still smiling as he charged the boy.
This time, Ranma's blade arced out, once, twice, three times, each one accompanied by the crack of wood meeting wood as he blocked the attacks that came his way. When he raised his head, his eyes were closed, a smile on his face as well. He spun around, lashed out with his bokken in a feint, then snapped out a kick that sent Soujiro sprawling across the floor.
The two met again in a flurry of blows, and both Sano and Kaoru took note that this time it was Soujiro who was on the defensive, dodging and blocking strikes that came fast enough to blur.
Ranma grinned as he lashed out with a snap-kick, followed by a spinning backfist, twisted sideways to away a thrust, and swept out the bokken, before kicking off the wall, flipping over Soujiro, only to resume their fast-paced exchange. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. He's too damn good with a sword, Ranma mused. No way I can beat him with my sword alone. Heh. It's "Anything Goes", after all. Relishing the freedom of his family's martial art, he stopped holding to the forms of kenjutsu as he fell back into the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu's unpredictability.
The pig-tailed martial artist leapt over a sideswing, and vanished before Soujiro's eyes. Where'd he go? The swordsman wondered. Ranma tapped him on the shoulder from his perch on the bokken. When he turned around, Ranma smirked and leapt off the bokken, leaving Soujiro staring wide-eyed at the space where the martial artist had been balancing his entire weight on a slim piece of wood moments before. Coming down with an axe-kick, which Soujiro narrowly avoided by rolling sideways, he attempted to follow up with a strike from his bokken, but Soujiro beat him to it, putting on a burst of speed and ending up behind the martial artist.
Ranma grunted as he felt the blow glance off his forearm. Note to self: don't block swordstrikes with any appendage. He turned around, seeing Soujiro standing, waiting for him. The swordsman had lowered his stance, leaning back slightly, his torso turned sideways, a hand hovering over the handle of the bokken he had returned to his sash. Ranma grinned as he began tapping his feet on the ground. He's gonna charge with the Shukuchi, and go battojutsu on me. Let's see how he likes the Amaguri-Ken.
With a yell, both combatants leapt at each other, Ranma discarding the bokken totally as he flung it into the air, yelling, "Kachuu Tenshin Amaguri-Ken!" To the casual observer, that is, Sano, Kaoru, and Yahiko, the pig-tailed youth appeared to throw three slow punches, a good meter separating him from his opponent. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, then the silence was broken by the crackle of splintering wood as Soujiro's bokken burst into splinters, and its wielder flew back. Ranma caught his bokken from the air with a flourish, even as Soujiro staggered to his feet.
"That was most impressive," the swordsman commented as he carefully nursed the dozen or so bruises across his torso. Ranma managed a cocky grin, before clutching his forearm. "Ow...I'm never, ever parrying a sword with my bare hands again, wooden or otherwise."
"How'd he pull that off?" Sano stared. "He just blocked the Shun-Ten-Satsu and broke his sword with three punches?" Kenshin smiled and left to fetch a broom, while, Soujiro and Ranma both staggered their way off the floor. "How come he fought better afterwards?" Sano mused, as he watched Kenshin sweep off the remains of the bokken.
"Sano...you missed him practice. He may be good at kenjutsu, but he lacks the same passion he has for his style of unarmed combat. It is that, which lets him excel," Kenshin replied as he continued to sweep. "It is what makes him so unbelievably strong."
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Ranma sighed as he sat down. The fight with Soujiro had taxed him more than he had liked to let on, and, despite many attempts, he hadn't been able to disarm the swordsman. Heh. Pops would go nuts if he found out I fought a weapon user to a draw and didn't manage to disarm him once. He grinned at the thought. Despite the fact the two had pretty much beaten the living daylights out of each other, he had seen a fire in his opponents eyes as they sparred, a fire, he knew, that was reflected in his own eyes. He hadn't felt this alive in a long time. Not since the last time he'd fought Saffron, or Herb. Not since he'd had to rise beyond his limits to defeat an opponent.
He'd had the time of his life. Sure, afterwards he was sore as hell, but he had enjoyed the fight more than any fight he could remember in a long time. They had fought, not to defend someone who was in grave danger, they hadn't fought for any idealistic purpose, they had simply fought for the sake of fighting, to test their skills and push their limits. This was what martial arts meant to him. This was why he loved his Art, he realized, because in it, he could grow and overcome the seemingly impossible.
It was a thrill like no other.
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Saito Hajime was not a happy camper. It had nothing to do with the fact that there were criminals running wild in Tokyo, no, quite the contrary, the imperial capital was quite safe. It also had nothing to do with the black-market arms smuggling ring they had just busted, in fact, that had been a job well done. His wife was even happy, and he had a lot of free time. It wasn't even the fact that Cho-the-former-swordhunter was a moron and had gotten stuck trying to arrest some small-time criminals over in Kyoto. Well, maybe that was a little part of the reason. But Saito Hajime, also known locally as police captain Fujita Goro, was bored.
He was so bored he was tempted to go and challenge the Battousai again. Their last fight had been fun, and he could only imagine how much more powerful he had gotten. After all, Himura Kenshin had taken down Shishio Makoto. On the other hand, Saito detested having to go visit his old nemesis. After all, one of the ex-wolves of Mibu didn't just admit he needed an old Ishin Shishi for company. Even if he was royally bored. Maybe...just maybe he could walk past the Kamiya Dojo. It would be purely coincidental, of course. He would be tracking a criminal who had come that way, and...Saito broke off his train of thought. This was pathethic. Did he really need such a wimpy excuse to come visit the dwelling of his former nemesis?
Unfortunately for him, the answer was a resounding "yes".
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The sounds of fighting were clearly audible even from outside the wall surrounding the property of the Kamiya dojo. Saito smirked. Perfect. That most certainly didn't sound like sparring, and, knowing what kind of attention the former Hitokiri seemed to draw in, would most likely draw the attention of the authorities sooner or later – if only to drag away an unconscious would-be evil doer.
A shout of "Môkô Takabisha!" caught Saito's attention. He shook his head inwardly, wondering what fool would announce his attacks like that. Besides, who calls an attack "pride of the fierce tiger"? He was about to move towards the main gate when a section of the wall next to him exploded outwards, answering his question. The former Shinsengumi stared in shock at the four-meter segment of the sturdy rock wall that had been blasted to bits, not five inches from where he stood. What added to his surprise, was the figure sitting up amidst the rubble, still smoking and a little charred, rubbing his head. "You know, Sano, you focus too much on offense. You're too slow to hit me!" a cheerful voice announced from the other side of the wall, causing said man to rise slowly from the rubble and dash in again. Sounds of violence could be heard, along with laughter, until Sanosuke flew out the hole in the wall again.
Saito had just managed to regain a grasp of reality, smirking at the bird-haired man who'd just taken another trip out of the wall. "Still as slow as ever, eh, moron?" Sano just growled in return, "I don't have time for you now, Saito, I'm busy kicking this kid's...Saito!" He stared at the man he had believed dead. On the other hand, knowing Saito, Sano could very well believe he'd survived having Shishio's stronghold burn down and drop on his head. The swordsman glared at the fighter-for-hire for giving away his real name.
"What the hell do you want here? And you still owe me a rematch!" Saito just smirked. "You still haven't changed your fighting style one bit, have you?"
Before the fighter-for-hire could reply, a head poked through the wall. "Yo, Sano, ya getting up, or what?" Ranma took one look at Saito, assessed the threat potential of the man in police uniform, classified him as "highly dangerous", judging from his stance and predatory eyes, and tensed, ready to move into a fighting stance in an instant.
"I'll have to kick your butt another time, kid, I got a rematch with Saito now," Sano grinned and turned to face the policeman. Saito just smirked and let out a tiny chuckle. "It looked like it was going the other way to me." He turned to Ranma. "Saito Hajime. Chief of police."
The martial artist nodded in acknowledgement. "Saotome Ranma. I'm just passing through." "Is he still as slow and brute as I remember?" Saito asked, catching a nod from Ranma. "He's a slowpoke, really, Sano, you are!" Ranma laughed as he ducked under a punch from said man, before continuing, dodging Sano's wild swings seemingly without paying any real attention to it."Relies too much on strength and the ability to absorb damage. I know someone who fights exactly the same way. Say, Sano," he turned an eyes to the man trying to hit him for a moment, "The name Hibiki ring any bells?"
Saito watched in amusement as Sano continued to try to hit Ranma, while the latter continued to dodge, not showing any signs of exertion. "Stay...still...and let me...hit...you!" Sano ground out as he slowed down, panting heavily. Ranma just stood before him and smirked. "Slowpoke! Sano's a slowpoke!" He sing-sung, drawing a glare from the older man.
"I was in the area and heard a disturbance. I assume it was the two of you sparring?" Saito asked. He really couldn't call it sparring, though. Sano was doing all the hitting, all the while hitting nothing at all, while Ranma didn't even need to fight back to defeat the bird-haired man. "Yup!" Ranma replied cheerfully. Soujiro just ain't good without a sword, so I asked Sano." At the mention of the ex-Tenken's name, Saito's eyebrow shot up. "Tenken no Soujiro is here?"
"Was. He left a while ago. Said he was gonna wander through the country some more," Ranma replied, leaping over a kick from Sano. "What do you want with him?" Saito smirked. "I am supposed to arrest him. He is a wanted terrorist, after all. But, so far we haven't been able to find a trace of him," the Shinsengumi admitted, the hint of a smile playing around his lips. Ranma caught the connotation, and grinned back. "Yeah, well, I don't think you're gonna catch him anytime soon. By the way, he said you'd come by one of these days. He asked us to tell you, and I quote, 'aku, soku, zan', whatever that means."
Saito continued to smirk. "It seems the Tenken has found what he was looking for. Tell me, is the Battousai still adverse to killing people?" "Yeah. Not like that's gonna change anytime soon," Ranma glanced at Sano, who by now was leaning against the outer wall. "That reminds me, what does it mean, anyway?"
"It was the motto of the Shinsengumi. A patrol group of swordsmen that took up their weapons during the Bakumatsu and brought order to the chaos of Kyoto. 'Evil must be slain immediately' was their warcry. They were feared for their skills with the sword, and ruthlessly enforced the peace in the city. They were cruel, but effective. Peace was kept, even through the bloodshed of the Bakumatsu," Kenshin said as he came up from behind them. "Kaoru-dono won't be happy with the wall, Ranma-kun." Ranma glanced at the destuction he had caused, and had the good sense to look abashed, scratching the base of his pigtail.
"Oops. Guess I overdid it a little."
Kenshin stared at the pig-tailed boy for a moment, before asking, "What are you doing here, Saito?" There was a golden glimmer in his eyes. "Nothing, Battousai. I heard there was a disturbance here, and came to investigate. Knowing this place, the authorities were going to get involved in any mess you get yourself into sooner or later."
V----------------------------------------V
Ranma stared up at the stars. He was lying on his back on the roof of the dojo, glad that he could see the stars more clearly than in his own time, as there was no pollution, no skyscrapers obscuring the view. It was a peaceful sight, and never failed to calm him down. He sighed. For the moment, he was free of his problems, but they were just waiting to erupt again once he returned. And he had no doubt that he would return, honor demanded it.
The pigtailed martial artist's thoughts drifted to his more recent problems. When he had killed that man he had turned from the path of a martial artist. Martial artists protected those weaker than them, doing everything they could to preserve life, even that of their enemies. He had, if even for a brief moment, turned away from that and taken a step down the warrior's path.
A warrior's duty was the same as a martial artist's, Ranma mused. He had talked at length with his hosts about it in the three days he had stayed, and all agreed that warriors, like Soujiro and Saito, protected the weak. But unlike a martial artist, a warrior did whatever had to be done to protect the weak and enforce justice. If those opposing him needed to be killed, he did so swiftly and without regret.
He lifted his hands and stared at them, knowing they were now stained with the blood of his lost innocence. He had never killed in cold blood before, never even imagined he had the power to do so. What would the others say? What would Mom think? Kasumi? Ucchan? It was, as Kenshin had told him, a step that irrevocably led down the warrior's path. Was he ready for this? Would he be able to slay those who threatened those he held dear without hesitation, if need be? He didn't think so, but the ease with which he had taken that one slaver's life on the road told him he would be very much able to do so.
Sighing, he tried to conjure up happier memories, of the times when he had fought just for the sake of fighting, to feel the thrill of combat. The times when he had been a true martial artist, when such thoughts about killing and death had never even entered his mind. The times when he had fought for the sake of the Art.
"I'm not a killer..." Ranma whispered, wishing those thoughts out of his head. He would never, ever kill again. The ease with which he had taken a life frightened him, as did his lack of control. He had been angry, and terribly so, disgusted at the practice of slavery, fueled by a desire for revenge after seeing someone close to him hurt, he had been angry at his inability to stop these events. "I'm in control. I'm not a killer. I'm a martial artist," he chanted, repeating the words over and over in his mind.
He could still remember waking up screaming from a nightmare two days ago, and the day before. Blood running down the walls of an invisible prison, noncorporeal voices whispering the promises of power, and of the price to pay. It was then that he admitted even Saotome Ranma was scared. He knew this was what had driven Kenshin to never kill again, he had snapped out of the bloodlust of the Bakumatsu to find himself in a nightmare of his own making. Others had willingly chosen that nightmare to guard other people's right to live a peaceful life. It was the ultimate sacrifice that could be made. And Ranma admitted, he was scared of it. He was scared of killing again, or loosing control of his power, of accidentally hurting those he loved. He realized he would never be able to kill in cold blood, and that was what he was truly afraid of. If he killed, it would be because he lost control of his actions.
He was a martial artist, first and foremost. He knew it hurt to see other people suffer, and he knew he would do whatever was in his power to prevent it, but he wouldn't kill. That was the one border he would not, could not cross. It was a selfish decision, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to kill. That didn't mean he wouldn't beat people like those slavers to within an inch of their miserable lives, but he swore to himself, he would never again loose control and kill.
That meant more training. He had to learn to control himself better, to gain full control of the power he wielded. In a flash of inspiration he realized why Happosai and Ryoko had set him the task of mastering the Neko-ken. It was the single, most unpredictable and arguably most lethal aspect of him. If he got trapped in the feral state anything could happen, and any number of people could wind up dead or crippled. It was a responsibility he didn't want to live with.
"Well, I guess I better get back to looking for some help on the Neko-ken," Ranma muttered, smiling slightly.
"Ready to go back yet?" A female voice asked from behind him. Ranma cocked his head to bring the newcomer into his field of vision. Urd was standing there, her long silver hair shimmering in the moonlight. A small smile played around her lips. "You already know the answer to that question." Ranma never ceased to smile as he rose and pulled out the glittering shard. "You were the one who sent me back, and I thank you for it."
"Oh? What happened to that naive martial arts jock I used to know?" Urd asked in mock surprise, drawing a chuckle from Ranma. "He grew up a little. What about them? Isn't it against the rules to mess with the timeline, or something?" He asked, gesturing towards the house. "They won't remember," Urd replied.
Nothing much had changed, he reflected, as he shed a tear on the piece of the Nanban Mirror. He was still Saotome Ranma, of the Musabetsu Kakuto Saotome-Ryu. He was still an aquatranssexual martial artist with enough women problems to make Casanova proud, and who had enough people after him to take out an entire infantry division. And he still loved his Art.