Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. Yamanami was one of the vice-captains of the Shinsengumi during the early years of the Bakumatsu. As far as I know, Saitou's name when directly written in English should be Saitō, but the romaji (which is the version we all seem to write our Japanese words in) is Saitou. I use Saitou because I'm too lazy to insert the ō symbol for his name.

37. Threads of fate

"Mae?" asked Tomoe softly. She sat by the window, watching the people milling in the street below.

"Did you need something before I open the restaurant?" Mae asked, tying an apron around her middle. She had grown fond of the quiet woman who had showed up on her doorstep, half dead. It was nice to have someone around for a change, especially since Himura had oddly stopped coming by the past couple of weeks.

"How do you know Himura Battousai?"

"What?"

"Himura. He knew you would help me," Tomoe said, not looking at Mae.

"Himura works part-time for me. I needed the help with my family staying in the countryside," Mae explained.

A pause. Tomoe tilted her head towards the older woman. "I would like to meet him."

"All right," Mae said unsuredly. Himura Battousai? What could it mean?

-

Iizuka paused at the backdoor of the Ohagi Inn. He looked around nervously, checking if anyone had seen him return from his secret meeting. The yard was dark and empty, everyone was probably inside eating dinner. He reached out to open the door--

"Katsura wanted to talk to you," said Himura in a low voice. Iizuka nearly had a heart attack.

"B-Battousai! What were you doing out here so late?" Iizuka forced a friendly chuckle.

"Training."

"Oh." There was no sign that the assassin had been doing anything of the sort and he wondered what Battousai's definition of training was. First the man walks around dressed like a girl, then does so in the company of their enemy, and now waits outside in the dark like a creepy fairytale monster.

"Katsura is waiting."

And those eyes! Iizuka acknowledged the other's words and headed into the inn, if only to get away from the expressionless staring that was starting to make him feel guilty.

Himura stared after Iizuka's back until the door closed behind him. He had been acting strange lately; had he recognized Souji at the festival? Her eyes traveled up the building to the window of Katsura's room. She would have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't mention it to Katsura.

-

"Okita."

Okita paused in his training, wiping sweat from his forehead as he looked over to his friend. He smiled. "Was there something you needed, Saitou?"

"Yamanami recieved a report on Hitokiri Battousai," Saitou said, knowing it would pique Okita's interest.

True to form, Okita sheathed his sword and wandered over. "He found an Imperialist willing to defect?" he asked.

"I didn't hear the details, but I know this: the rumors of Battousai's appearance are true. He has red hair, amber eyes, and unbelievable speed."

"With the corpses we've examined I suspected as much about his speed. To kill so precisely with one stroke would require a high level of skill. It could be a clue as to the sword style he practices," Okita said. His smile had faded in favor of a serious expression as he analyzed what he knew about the elusive assassin.

"Red hair is a foreigner's trait. It would be memorable amongst any students of his."

"True, but we don't have time to inquire at every school that teaches swordsmanship in the country. How reliable is Yamanami's spy?"

"He fears Battousai, it is unlikely he would lie about him."

"The more we learn about him, the better we'll be able to fight the Ishin Shishi. Without the Battousai they could barely accomplish half the things they have done this past year," Okita said. "I will talk with Yamanami and ask to talk to the spy directly. Perhaps we can learn more."

"Our squads along with Nakamura's stand the best chance against the Battousai's skill. Any information we gain would be beneficial," Saitou said. He paused. "How common do you believe red hair to be?"

Okita blinked at the change in topic. "That is an odd question coming from you," he said, "but I suppose it must not be completely uncommon. There have been foreigners in the country years before the war, after all."

"Hm," Saitou indirectly agreed. He recalled the red-haired woman he had noticed before. It was something to keep in mind.

"Ne, Saitou, I was wondering if you could do something for me..."

Saitou raised an eyebrow and Okita grinned. Saitou's eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked warily.

If it was possible, Okita's smile widened. Saitou mentally sighed.