Author's Notes: Other stories are still in progress, and I hope to come back to each of them someday. I felt like doing something different though, sort of in relation to me new start at school and all. Fun stuff, I know. I'm not going to tell you much about this story, you'll just have to read it. E-mail me if you have any questions that you think will just kill you if they aren't answered.

I know I've started a zillion stories, deleted some of them, and a couple are on other accounts. Those aren't doing any better than these are where progress is concerned...but hey. I can't promise that I won't disappear for long amounts of time, since I have a lot on my plate right now, but I will try to give a warning beforehand.

Please, enjoy.

-

Rain was pounding on the wooden building's roof. Two men sat across from each other in a dimly lit room, off in the corner where they wouldn't be bothered. They seemed to be completely unaware of the activity around them, eyes fixed only on the man in front of him.

The activity, to be more specific, was the everyday routine of waitresses bustling around the cozy restaurant, arms full of trays and trays full of tea and food. They skillfully dodged the wandering hands of their drunk customers, still keeping carefully placed, pleasant smiles on their shining faces. They were pleased with the business yet noticeably overwhelmed with the many orders and lack of space. The town's parade had been rained out though, and this little place was on the main street. People had poured in to dry off and warm up, including several of the country's finest soldiers, toting gleaming swords and all. These were respectfully placed against the wall though, not too close to their hands.

"More tea, sir?"

"Yes, ma'am," a man answered while leaning over slightly to watch her leave. He sat up straight again, a smug look on his face, and burst out into raucous laughter at something funny his friend had just said. There was laughter all over the place, giving the usually quiet restaurant a very lively atmosphere. Men would guffaw their pleasure at a dirty joke someone would tell, and try out lines on the waitresses that only earned them a disapproving look. But they kept their smiling heads up, and one of the girls soon returned with the man's tea.

She smiled politely, pouring until the small cup was full and then moved off to the kitchen where she sat down on a stool against the wall. A genuine smile was on her gleaming face now, different from the forces ones they wore around the customers. She took in a few deep breaths and then laughed softly, fanning herself with an empty tray.

"My Goodness, if it isn't busy in here tonight! This is great business for us, wouldn't you say?"

The young boy in the corner nodded silently from his seat in the corner. It was usually so quiet in here, and now things were out of control. He tugged at his mother's apron, looking up at her with wide brown eyes.

"Mommy?"

"What is it Keigo-chan? Are you feeling ill?" She pressed the back of her hand against her son's forehead, feeling for signs of a fever. "I told you not to run around in the run like that," she said with a smile. Something had been going around town though, and she knew a lot of his friends and other people had been bed-ridden for a few days.

"No, Mommy," he answered with a small smile in return. He leaned into her hand though, feeling comforted by her motherly touch.

She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his hair before standing and bending down to his level. "Is something the matter? I have to get back to work, now. Is there something you needed to tell me?"

The boy seemed to think on this for a moment before shaking his head. The woman smiled and stood up again, breezing past her son and back into the chaos that was the restaurant his mother worked in.

-

Back in the corner, the two men had barely spoken. Each had been sipping at his sake and nibbling at a bowl of rice in front of him for the past hour. They both seemed to be thinking hard about something, and it wasn't an easy decision to make. Finally, one of them spoke, sneaking a glance back to another young man sitting alone at a table, his gaze locked on the untouched cup of sake in front of him. He hadn't moved since they got there, and he was starting to wonder if he was alright.

"The war is taking a toll on our soldiers and their families."

"I know," the man across from him answered. Suddenly animating himself, he leaned forward rather enthusiastically, beckoning the other closer as if he had a secret. "That's why I'm giving HIM to you."

He jerked his head over to the motionless figure he had seen walk in with him. The boy? What did he did the boy for? "I don't need a servant boy now, Daichi," he said a little confused.

Clearly amused, Daichi let out a loud spurt of laughter, startling the man across from him slightly. "That is no servant boy, my dear Katsura." He smiled, a grim smile on his face. "Soon, I will introduce you to Kenshin Himura. You won't believe your eyes, my friend, I promise you." He paused, picking up a piece of rice with his fingers and popping it into his mouth. "You look skeptical," he continued. "Have my choices ever disappointed you?"

Katsura shook his head slowly, again turning his neck to look at the boy now known as Kenshin. He looked thin, frail, and if it weren't for the sword at his hip, he wouldn't have thought he could even hold up without falling over. Daichi was right though; he had never made a bad choice for his friend, and Katsura wasn't going to start doubting him now, especially in this time of need. "How old is he?"

Daichi shrugged, stealing another look as well. There was a hint of pride in his gaze. It was hard to see, but it was there, and Katsura picked it out without much trouble. He could read people like a book, and he knew his old friend especially well. "Don't know for sure, but he says he's fourteen. Looks more like he'd be twelve, eh?"

Katsura nodded, finally looking back at Daichi. He wasn't going to ask where he had found the boy, or exactly what it was about him that was so spectacular. Putting a fourteen-year-old boy into the war was risky though; perhaps too risky. Could he live with the guilt of sending such a young man to his death? "And why did you pick him, exactly? He seems far too young, even if he is fourteen."

Daichi leaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression adorning his features. "Well, it's up to you, Katsura. The boy has no family, no ties to this world that he spoke of, and he willingly joined our cause. I merely stumbled upon him." Again he leaned forward, the smile sliding from his face and he dropped his voice to a level and tone of all seriousness. "You decide if you want to risk the boy's life, or the perhaps hundreds of other men that might have families and loved ones."

Daichi and his mind games. They were so many times infuriating. Like now, for example. Katsura didn't want to have to choose like this; it wasn't humane. "Hundreds of other men? You think he can make that big of a difference?"

"I have absolute faith in this boy, Katsura. I have seen what he's capable of, and I think there's room for him to grow and learn new things." When Daichi was this serious, one knew that there was absolutely no messing around. Katsura gave a heavy sigh and he closed his eyes for a moment. His ears picked up the clattering of dishes and trays, and his mind zeroed in on the boy's ki. It was well hidden, and he had to concentrate hard to feel the power coming from him. It was remarkable, really. Eyes fluttered open, and the look on his face told Daichi he had felt it. He smiled faintly. "Well?"

"I'll give him a chance," he said professionally. He stood, giving a courteous, business-like bow and then clapped his friend on the back.

"What do you say we go meet him then?"

The two men excused themselves from the secluded table and wove their way through the groups of people and waitresses flitting here and there until they finally stood in front of the table Kenshin hadn't gotten up from in the past hour. He stood up right as they got there, wide, youthful eyes staring up into Katsura's hardened one. Kenshin bowed until a movement from Daichi told him to stand. He stood straight up and at full attention, his eyes giving away the innocence and energy in him. Katsura swallowed hard before introducing himself.

"Kogoro Katsura," he said as kindly as he could while returning the bow Kenshin had offered earlier.

Daichi cut in then, smiling and again moving around in front of Katsura to get closer to Kenshin. "Like I said earlier, this is Kenshin Himura." He looked to the short boy next to him. "So what do you say? How about working with Katsura to save Japan?"

Katsura caught the light in his eyes then, and he knew all he wanted to do was stand up for his beliefs and be part of something bigger. From the way he dressed and judging by his mannerisms, he was from a small rural community and didn't have as much experience with other people that he might have had if he had grown up in Tokyo or another larger city. He was naive, and the idea of it made Katsura chuckle.

"Himura," he murmured softly.

-

The way he walked beside him and looked at him when speaking indicated that Kenshin had already taken somewhat of a liking to the man that was "taking him in". He had become a fatherly figure almost, even though he barely knew the man. Katsura noticed these signs of attachment but chose to ignore them at the moment.

They were being rained on, despite the use of the umbrellas they had brought with them. They didn't help much when the rain was blowing at you sideways, and both of them were drenched by the time they reached the inn Katsura and several of his men were staying at. They had ended up closing their umbrellas and simply walking through the rain without having the extra burden of them being open and blown around. They couldn't get any wetter, but they both rushed inside when they finally reached their destination. The trip had been a silent one, even though each of their thoughts were thick in the air. The woman they had all affectionately gotten to know as Okami, was up and ready to greet them when they came in.

"Welcome back out of the rain, Katsura-san," she exclaimed as loudly as she dared. She didn't want to wake any of the sleeping soldiers or girls that were around to help. It seemed that Okami never slept, for she was always around to help. Her old eyes went straight to Kenshin though, after it seemed Katsura was taken care of with his needs. "Oh my, and who's this?"

Katsura smiled and beckoned Kenshin closer, who seemed hesitant to even further inside the warm inn. He was dripping wet, and his hair was matted to his face and head. "This is Kenshin Himura. He's going to be working with us now."

She gave him a funny look though, trying to figure out if Katsura was making a joke. But Kenshin was far more interesting at the moment, and she turned her attention to him again. "Oh, don't you worry about getting the floor all wet," she said happily, seeing the worried look on his face. "I'll tell you, this poor thing has seen things far worse than a little water. It might do it some good anyway. In fact, come on over and drip on this spot right here. I just can't seem to get this stain off."

He looked confused now, unsure if he should actually do it. He looked to Katsura as if looking for an answer, but the now stoic swordsman provided none. Okami had all the answer though, for she approached him and started pushing him in the direction of a room that would suit him. She smiled and moved around behind him to give a gentle but firm direction of the hallway where she would find a room that would suit him. She was as tall as him, if not even a little taller, and he was certainly thinner. She expected him to go forwards right away, what with his small frame and the force she applied to his back.

Yet he stayed absolutely rooted to his spot, and while she had been expecting to come in contact with the soft flesh of a young boy, her hands encountered nothing but hard muscle. She was slightly taken aback by this, and Katsura now watched the scene with a very interested eye. Okami waved the event off though, and leaned forward to speak softly in his ear.

"You're soaking wet. I'll show you to a room where you can dry off, and I'll run and get you some clean clothes. You'll feel better, I promise." He finally obeyed, looking nowhere but down to the floor while he let himself me steered into a room for him. Okami returned without Kenshin, and Katsura followed her while she went to search for something for him to wear for the night.

"Well? What do you think," he asked casually.

"I think you're crazy," she responded without hesitation. That was what made her so trustworthy. She always spoke what was on her mind. Katsura laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know what he can do yet, but I've always trusted Daichi. We need all the help we can get."

"How old is he anyway?"

"Daichi said he told him he was fourteen."

Okami shook her head and sighed, pushing past Katsura with an armload of clothes for him to try out and see what would fit properly. "Sending fourteen-year-olds off to war. What has become of this country?" She muttered it on her way out of the small room, genuinely concerned with what was going to happen to Kenshin.

Deep down, Katsura was worried as well. The whole time he was getting dressed and ready for bed, his mind was on his new recruit. While he laid with his head on the pillow, eyes glued to the ceiling, his mind was on the innocent boy that he would have to turn into a killer. Depending on his level of skill and strengths, Katsura would have to assign him a job. He attempted to tell himself that it wasn't selfish of him to use the boy's obvious talent, but something told him that things would not turn out for the best. His decision now would be to either go with that gut instinct to spare the boy, or go against it and "save hundreds of men with families."