Author's Note: Welcome back to Teachings of Demons, Take 2!

Instead of apologies, I give you a new chapter, and the promise of Part II by next week (assuming no tornadoes, broken bones, or similar vagaries of life - which kind of describes the months of September and October for me). There is just so much to write about! At some point I think my AU will need side-stories, so that the main plot can advance (grumbles at the bevy of plot bunnies).

Welcome to new readers - your comments, follows, favourites, and encouragement have been a big part of why this story had to be picked up again sooner rather than later.

Thank you from the bottom of my ChibiOni heart to my long-time readers - I can't possibly convey my disappointment at not being able to follow through on my plans to update over the summer, but neither can I fully express my gratitude for the gentle inquiries and kind reviews that have gotten me back to where I am now.

This chapter is dedicated to DancesWithSeatbelts (Nalufever) for her birthday (and oh so much encouragement), Shell-Senji for many late night chats (and great tags), Eliz1369 for things ranging from art, to plushies, to being one of the nicest people ever, and my Dad (hi Dad!).

I know this can't possibly do justice to the long wait, but I hope it's a start!

~ Imp (with love)

Chapter 92—The Breach, Part I

Chizuru stood peering out Sen's front window. She saw Hajime speak briefly to Kichirō-kun, his face as expressionless as it had ever been. Her own cheeks still blazed with embarrassment, she was sure of it. Why was she so—so like that about Hajime? Even now, she was watching him instead of returning to their rooms, as she'd promised. Well, not their rooms, exactly, but the rooms they'd shared in her cousin's manor house since the night of their marriage—and that wasn't a safe thought! It was mortifying. She squeezed her eyes shut, and forced back anxiety and longing both.

"I can do this. Hajime will be fine, I'll be fine, everything will be fine. This is very important." She realized that her fingers were twisting knots in the soft fabric of her kimono, and stilled them with an effort. "I promised to have courage for him. And… and I'm sure that Satoshi-oji-sama will be able to teach me more about Oni magic, and how to heal people properly without hurting the twins."

Beyond the wide engawa, Hajime's right hand brushed the hilts of his swords—although they weren't the swords she was used to, and that bothered her for absolutely no good reason. She sighed, then straightened her shoulders and raised her chin.

"Chizuru-chan?" The door behind her slid open, and Chiharu-sama entered rather diffidently.

Chizuru hurriedly cleared her throat, dragging her eyes away from the lean, indigo-haired man in the front garden. "Oh—yes, Chiharu-sa… I mean, Chiharu-chan?" The daughter of the Kazama clan still seemed too elegant and too mature to speak with on equal terms. Then Chizuru caught a hint of the other young woman's anxiety, and natural sympathy came to her rescue. "This must be a bit, um, strange for you, too."

"It is, but this is how it goes, isn't it? The men—the boy, in Kichirō's case—go off on the adventures, and the women stay home and worry."

Before Chizuru could formulate a response, she sensed Hijikata's approach. Her eyes flicked to the door, then back to the garden. Hajime and Kichirō were leaving, and she couldn't resist watching—although there was little to see. No more than a flicker of motion marked the departure of the dark, impassive captain, and the tall, bright-haired boy. Chizuru felt Chiharu's hand touch her shoulder, and forced herself to smile.

"Yukimura. Chiharu-sama." Hijikata slid open the door and stepped inside without ceremony.

"Yes, Hijikata-san?"

"What is it, Vice Commander?"

"Harada and Yamazaki are with Amagiri. The princess said to tell you she'd be here shortly." Hijikata's irritable expression gave way to something softer as he studied Chizuru—or possibly he was amused to see the way Chiharu's posture had become protective. "Once Sen-hime and Kimiko-sama are here, we can exchange lessons, Chiharu-sama. You may wish to change." A pause, and then he added, "Or do you fear for Yukimura's safety in my company?" His tone was bland, but Chizuru looked up in time to see the sardonic expression that went with it.

Before Chiharu could find a sufficiently icy retort, Chizuru hurried into speech. "I'm sure Chiharu-chan wouldn't think anything like that, Hijikata-san. Thank you very much for coming to let us know where everyone is." She bowed quickly, not wanting to lose her momentum. "And thank you for your kindness, Chiharu-chan. It has been a great relief to have you here to teach me and support me." She bowed again, but not too low, since she wanted to respect Chiharu's desire to be on more informal terms. It was all rather exhausting.

"I have done nothing to deserve such thanks," said Chiharu firmly. "Even if I had, I am happy to be of assistance to you, Chizuru-chan." There was short silence, and then she dropped her hand and moved toward the door, her face serene. At least on the surface, any acrimony had passed; Hijikata-san stepped aside and inclined his head politely as Chiharu approached, and Chiharu returned the courtesy.

"I will be with you in ten minutes or less, Vice Commander. I realize that this is not a good time for you to be away from your duties." A sudden flash of humour brightened her fair good looks. "This house is very well-guarded at present, isn't it? By Kyoto's official protectors, I mean. Though I'm sure your Commander, and Captains Okita and Nagakura, will manage in your absence. And there's Captain Tōdō as well, who is a force to be reckoned with."

"Especially since he may be a close relative of yours," muttered Hijikata. An instant later he looked annoyed at himself.

"Quite so," replied Chiharu calmly, refusing to be baited. "Moreover, I'm sure that his kindness and good humour are a much-valued asset to your force, by virtue of being so rare."

"It's not too unusual, Chiharu-sama. You must mean it's rare among your close relatives." Chizuru winced internally, wishing that one or the other of them would drop the matter.

Chiharu laughed lightly. "How can you say that, Hijikata-san? You've met my brother Kichirō." She had stopped in front of the door, and her eyes were fixed on Hijikata's. "…Although perhaps you were counting yourself among my relatives, which would certainly make a difference. If Osen-chan is right, then you and I are cousins. Along with Saitō-sama and Yamazaki-san, of course. But perhaps they are more light-hearted when they are employed in their regular duties." Her emotions were tightly shielded, but there was a brittle edge to her words.

Hijikata-san looked annoyed, but it wasn't clear with whom, and Chizuru was finding herself unaccountably tired. He didn't respond to the graceful half-bow he received from Chiharu as she moved past him and closed the door behind her. Chizuru watched him in concern, until she realized that his brief flash of temper had faded, and he had transferred his attention from the door to her face.

"So, Yukimura—how are you?"

"How am I, Hijikata-san?" Chizuru was startled.

Amethyst eyes very much like Chiharu's glimmered with a hint of amusement. "You know, I've gotten that reaction just about every time I've asked that question in the last couple of days. Never realized it was such an odd thing to say."

"Ah, no, Hijikata-san, it's not—it's just—well, anyway, I'm fine." Under the weight of his stern expression—she tried not to think of it as a glower—Chizuru added: "I'm a little tired, maybe?"

"Makes sense. Are you going to be okay with your uncle and the princess, tonight?" Hijikata cleared his throat. "…Kondō-san and Gen-san will ask after you."

Chizuru found herself blushing. Despite her best efforts at equanimity, it felt strange to have such important people expressing concern for her, and also, Hijikata-san had now crossed to stand beside her near the window. On top of that, the fatigue was suddenly hitting her much harder. In fact—

"Whoa! Yukimura, don't—!"

Too late, Chizuru realized that the link she'd felt to Hajime since their wedding had attenuated almost to nothing, and that her legs were giving way. She cried out despite herself, and then collapsed.

Sen was there and moving across the room even as she fell, closely followed by Amagiri; Hijikata deftly caught her before she hit the floor, and cradled her in his arms. Chizuru would have been surprised—and even more embarrassed than before—to see the fierce expression he turned on her cousin and Amagiri-san.

"What the hell is wrong with her?! I don't care if you're royalty"—Sen ignored him, and turned her considerable attention to examining Chizuru—"and you're stressed out over family stuff"—Amagiri was standing rigid behind Sen—"but if either of you knew this might happen then why didn't you mention it earlier?!"

"What happened to Yukimura, Vice Commander?" Yamazaki was suddenly standing at Hijikata's elbow.

"Is Chizuru okay, Hijikata-san?" Harada was in the doorway.

"She was fine five minutes ago," noted Chiharu, from beside Harada. Hijikata suppressed a desire to swear, and told himself that she didn't mean to sound accusatory. Probably. Freaking Oni princesses and their freaking suspicions and I have a job to do that I'm not doing right now because I've got to learn how to handle this crap! Problem was, he could tell that Chiharu was merely anxious, not suspicious, or trying to needle him—it was an unexpected vote of acceptance, in the circumstances.

"Chizuru-chan was unconscious when we arrived, but I think she's relaxing into proper sleep now." Sen's voice was under control, if not precisely calm, and she looked up from Chizuru to smile impartially at the others present. "Yes, I was worried about her being separated from Saitō-san, Hijikata-san, but it's not as though I've had experience with this kind of situation and knew what to expect."

Hijikata muttered an imprecation or two under his breath, but didn't swear aloud. Of course, at least three of the people in the room seemed to be able to read his mind, and he wasn't too sure about Yamazaki these days.

"I believe that Sen-hime is correct, Vice Commander," commented Yamazaki, on cue. "Yukimura appears to be sleeping now, and her pulse is just about normal again." Well, at least Yamazaki wasn't flying into a panic, that was something. He'd shown up awfully fast, but fast and psychic wasn't bad in a ninja, as long as he was on your side.

"Then I'll leave her with you and Sen-hime, Yamazaki. You've spent a fair bit of time with her—Yukimura—over the last couple of days. Just remember two things: one, we're busy, but you still need to train with Amagiri-san this afternoon; and two, Saitō has to find Yukimura in perfect health when he's back. …From his walk." He unceremoniously, and utterly without compunction, pushed Chizuru at Yamazaki, who looked first startled, and then uncomfortable. Chizuru didn't stir, which told the others that Hijikata had been much gentler than he'd appeared.

Sen's lips thinned a little, but her undaunted smile remained firmly in place. She patted Yamazaki on the shoulder in a consoling, or possibly commiserating, kind of way.

"Your Vice Commander is in one of his moods I'm afraid, Yamazaki-san. Kimiko is waiting just outside the room, and I hope you'll let us look after Chizuru-chan for you." She turned without waiting for a reply, and Yamazaki trailed after her—though not without an almost imperceptible affirmative from his commanding officer.

Harada spoke up as soon as they had gone. "You sure you don't mind me staying, Hijikata-san? I can head back to headquarters if you'd prefer."

"Īe. I want to get as much done here now as we can. Besides, you're on duty tonight."

"I think we had best set aside any martial arts training for now, Hijikata-san." Chiharu's voice was troubled. She spoke softly to Amagiri. "How is he?"

Amagiri hadn't moved since his arrival, and his eyes were closed in concentration. His voice was as deep and calm as ever when he replied, however.

"He is doing as well as he can. I warned him that it could be a problem, and that it would slow him down."

"Amagiri-san." Hijikata's tone was sharp, and Harada sympathized. It was tough working with only half the information.

"I'll explain, Vice Commander," interjected Chiharu. "Saitō-san should not be away from his wife at this time. Even in the Western Clans, where we don't have quite the same understanding of the marriage bond, it is traditional to avoid being apart for long during the early days of marriage, especially the first month. Nobody could know what would happen with Chizuru-chan and Saitō-san, since Saitō-san's transformation is something out of legend for all of us." She stopped there, unwilling to add that they really didn't know much about Chizuru's capabilities—and weaknesses—either.

"And?" Hijikata was fuming. Life was hard enough when he was dealing with humans. Now he was supposed to contend with the half-understood myths of creatures who were themselves something out of folklore.

"Amagiri-san has been trying to support Saitō-san—with Osen-chan's help—since Chizuru-chan, ah, collapsed. I don't think anyone expected there to be a problem so soon—"

"Godsdammit! I wish somebody—anybody—had shared their concerns! I know Saitō as well as anyone, and he may look calm right now, but—"

"I am aware of the gravity of the situation, Hijikata-san." Amagiri's sky blue eyes were open and fixed on Hijikata. "However, Saitō is recovering even as we speak. He's had to check his speed and re-evaluate his resources, that's all. As soon as Sen-hime has seen to Yukimura-sama, she will be able to focus her attention on Saitō, which is what she intended from the start. After that, I suggest that we proceed with our original plans."

Hijikata tried to protest, but Amagiri's gaze held him silent long enough for him to connect the dots and absorb the unspoken message. Amagiri didn't want him to tell Kazama Chiharu that Saitō had left with every expectation of having to fight Kazama Chikage. In fact, both Amagiri and Hijikata—and probably Harada—were worried that the heretofore supremely unemotional Saitō was quietly spoiling for that fight, which wasn't a good thing.

"…Fine. Chiharu-sama, I'm running out of time, so if you were serious about being able to change in five minutes, that would be helpful."

Chiharu was determined to stop reacting to Hijikata-san's prickly comments. If she could deal with Chikage's moods, she could deal with this—and she'd be getting her training. Also, Sen had been smirking at her—until Chizuru had drawn their attention—and her cousin apparently thought that frequent irritation was a sign of attraction. Chiharu had given up trying to dissuade her cousin from teasing, but she had no desire to add fuel to the ersatz fire by a further exchange of barbed comments with the aggravating Vice Commander.

"I'll meet you in five minutes," she told Hijikata, and departed on the words.

Kichirō watched uneasily as Saitō wiped visible sweat from his forehead. The day was warm, but this was clearly something else. They had been travelling at a pace that had tasked the young Oni to match, and then his companion had faltered, slowed, and finally stopped. A warning glance from Saitō had been enough to make Kichirō bite back his questions, and he had been waiting patiently ever since.

Having Saitō in Oni form was at once intimidating and reassuring. They were travelling on clan business, and the crown of horns and bright gold eyes were tangible proof that whatever Saitō had been, he was now an Oni, and one of high rank. It was unusual to travel so openly, of course, but the matter was pressing and they were avoiding human settlements.

"I am well now, Kichirō-kun. We can proceed." Saitō's face and voice were entirely devoid of emotion; as inexperienced as he was, Kichirō recognized a mask for discomfort.

"Are you sure?" Kichirō wanted the question back even as it left his mouth. What warrior would admit to weakness? His brother never would, although Kichirō wasn't sure if Onii-sama had ever been weak. Haru-chan said that an inability to ask for help was abysmally stupid, rather than praiseworthy, but Kichirō admired fearlessness and stoicism as the hallmarks of a true bushi.

"Ikuzo, Kichirō."

The expected answer. Without further warning, Saitō set out again, and although the pace was somewhat slower, it was steady. The light mental contact between them showed Kichirō nothing that he couldn't see through his physical senses.

Some considerable time later, Saitō slowed to a normal walk. He also changed to human form, and Kichirō breathed a—hopefully concealed—sigh of relief; hopefully, it meant they wouldn't be using Fast Travel for a while. The lack of his third Trial made this journey more difficult for him than for a full adult, although he would have rather died than not keep up or ask for a break. Again, he could picture his sister's expression at such a statement. 'Oh for the gods' sake, Kirō-kun!'

He suddenly thought of a retort, and it made him chuckle, although it was probably more strain and nerves than anything else. Still—Haru-chan had been as stoic and stubborn as any warrior when she'd been wounded, which only went to show! To his surprise, Saitō noticed his amusement, and turned his head a fraction.

"Amagiri said that we needed to walk from time-to-time in order to conserve energy. Is there a problem?"

"What? Oh, no—not at all, Saitō-sama!" It hadn't occurred to Kichirō that his half-concealed laugh might be interpreted as criticism. Not being his sister, he didn't notice that Saitō's question betrayed a certain defensive anxiety.

"I see."

Half-an-hour passed, with Kichirō trying his best to be both physically and mentally quiet, and then Saitō turned to him again. Prepared to be told that they would resume Fast Travel, Kichirō squared his shoulders. He was still tired from the first few hours, but as determined as ever to manage whatever Saitō-sama required of him.

"Have you given thought to what approach would be best with your mother?"

Kichirō blinked, then nodded, hurrying into speech. "Yes, Saitō-sama!"

"Tell me. Also, there is no need to address me so formally. My name is sufficient." Seeing that Kichirō looked nonplussed, Saitō sighed faintly, but then his mouth relaxed into a ghost of a smile. "You don't intend to betray me?"

"No!"

"Then we are comrades, in this venture, at least. I am your senior, that is all."

"Amagiri wouldn't like it," mumbled Kichirō.

Saitō shrugged. "As you wish then. Tell me how you propose that we approach your mother."

"Yes, Saitō-sa—I mean, Saitō." Kichirō swallowed, a fifteen-year-old faced with an apparently insoluble question of etiquette.

"Go on."

"Hai! I would like to just… introduce you. To my mother, Kazama Shiranui Kazue-sama." He thought he sounded shy, and tried to speak more firmly. "If my sister is correct, then my mother will understand the situation, as far as Kenshin goes. Mother isn't very strong, but she's quite kind, and, well…"

"Kichirō?"

"…I hope this will not trouble you too greatly—you probably haven't had time to sort it out—but Haru-chan pointed out to me earlier that…" Seized with trepidation when he'd believed himself quite calm, Kichirō couldn't seem to bring out the words. Strangely, Saitō displayed no impatience or irritation. When there was no biting reprimand for his stumbling words, Kichirō relaxed and nerved himself to come to the point. "Shiranui-sama—your, um, father—is my uncle; my mother's brother. You and I are first cousins, on my mother's side. My mother has always respected family ties, although we don't really see much of my mother's former clan."

Nothing registered on Saitō's face, or in the way that he moved, but Kichirō sensed surprise, and then nothing at all. He was reasonably sure that he knew why, although he'd hoped for something when he'd mentioned that they were close cousins. However, as his sister had pointed out to him, Saitō-sama was unlikely to be happy about having Kazama Chikage among his closer relatives, given the way they'd met. Regardless, Mother would accept Saitō-sama better—in Kichirō's head, the honorific remained firmly in place—if she knew that the warrior was her nephew. And Kichirō wouldn't mention the Shinsengumi connection, of course.

"You are saying that your mother—Lady… Kazue?—might be influenced by a familial connection? Would she believe you?"

Unsure what to make of the complete lack of drama around his pronouncement, Kichirō nevertheless nodded firmly. "Yes. She knows I wouldn't dare lie about something like Osen-chan—I mean Sen-hime!—confirming your blood ties. I mean—why would I make up something like that? Besides"—he glanced at Saitō's face, but it was as impassive as ever—"it's considered, um, very wrong to lie. Among Oni, at least. Anyway, Mother will be able to see for herself that you are an Oni—and not just—I mean—"

"There is a bias against part-bloods, but the reverse is also true—there is a certain immediate respect for full Oni."

"Well, I mean it's different for part-Oni who grow up within the clan, of course…" Kichirō felt he was straying from the point and into difficult territory. The clan recognized many members who had varying Oni abilities; however, only those whose non-Oni ancestors were generations back were able to shift form, or use the greater Gifts. The ruling family was magnitudes stronger than most of its dependants, and the same was true for its subordinate clan, the Amagiri.

Not surprisingly, Saitō returned to the salient points of Kichirō's proposal.

"You wish to follow Chiharu-sama's advice and have me speak directly with Lady Kazue about the purpose of our visit. You are concerned for her health if the matter is resolved by force, and Kenshin's cooperation—and comfort—will be greater if your mother either supports us, or at least does not oppose us. Finally, you believe that coming to her as a—a close blood relative—will improve my standing in her eyes and may help elicit her support."

Kichirō found it unnerving to discuss such an emotional issue so coldly. The man showed no real interest in his own father's closest kin, and spoke of trading on family bonds as nothing more than a means to a desirable end. Sometimes Saitō-sama seemed every inch an Oni, but other times he didn't understand anything. Kichirō struggled for an adequate response. Simple agreement felt wrong to him, even though the essence of Saitō-sama's analysis was correct—

"Given how you feel, it is unlikely that you will be able to convince your mother of my honourable intentions." Saitō's statement was delivered as flatly as his outline of Kichirō's proposal for approaching Lady Kazue before speaking with the ten-year-old Kenshin.

"Sumimasen, Saitō-sama." Kichirō bit his lip. He'd promised his help, and here he was, once more doubting Saitō's—fitness? honour? No, not honour, it wasn't quite that bad!

"It bothers you that I am not more agitated?" Saitō stopped, turning to fix his blue eyes directly on Kichirō's face.

"No!" Kichirō straightened his shoulders, and nerved himself to meet the hard stare confronting him.

"How would a display of emotion be of any use at this time?" pursued Saitō. He had no energy to spare on careful diplomacy, not with part of him fully engaged in fighting the agonizing feeling that Chizuru had somehow disappeared. He had to keep reminding himself that she was safe, and that he didn't have to go searching for her. It wasn't a good time—if such a time ever existed—for Kazama Kichirō to be questioning his sincerity, or demanding a show of feeling.

Meanwhile, something in Kichirō broke at Saitō's icy question. Wasn't it obvious that a person might be at least interested about meeting long-lost—or heretofore unknown—family? He drew a deep breath to steady himself, but it wasn't nearly enough to check his frustration, or to soothe his escalating fear that he was bringing a powerful, dangerously cold-hearted man into his family's sanctuary.

"You don't care about them! Kenshin's my brother, and he's important to me! And Mother must be protected from harm, she's suffered enough! You'd know that—you'd understand how important they are—if you understood about family—if you weren't so cold about everything—"

The backhand sent him staggering into a tree with a bleeding cheek and lip. Saitō had barely moved. Only gold-ringed irises indicated the state of his temper.

"Your lack of discipline is not of my making, but it is my problem. I chose you despite my misgivings"—this time the frigid tone was edged with scorn—"and I was told that Oni kept their promises. Your promise, spoken or unspoken, was to assist me to the full extent of your abilities. If you were not prepared to trust my judgment—on this matter at least!—then you should not be here. I should have no need to justify myself to you—or coddle you; you put yourself at my disposal unasked."

Head ringing, but essentially unhurt, Kichirō was miserably aware that he had failed, although shame was mixed with fiery resentment. But—what the hell had made him utter such dangerous, childish words? He'd been doing well, mostly, until that last bit. Then his wariness of Saitō's strength, together with his inculcated need to protect his family, and his uneasy, feelings regarding Chizuru-chan had somehow all fused together and overwhelmed both justice and good sense. A large part of him still wanted to launch himself at his assailant, mind you, and not just in retaliation for the present, but to erase humiliations of the past.

Against all odds—even more than he knew—Kichirō forced himself to his knees, and bent his head. His pride as a Kazama fought him every inch of the way, but somehow that just strengthened his personal resolve to submit. He couldn't explain why, he just knew it was important. He'd been in the wrong. He'd freely offered—had insisted on giving—his help, and had then all but insulted Saitō-sama's honour by offering unnecessary and uncalled for personal criticism. He'd deserved the blow, and was well aware that it could have been much worse.

His senses cleared as he knelt there, head bowed. As his anger and frustration drained slowly away, he could perceive that Saitō was regarding him with surprise. Then again, he was rather surprised himself; he had an easy-going nature, but his temper had gotten the better of him more than once in the past when he was provoked. Despite extreme mortification, Kichirō felt a flash of hopeful satisfaction—maybe he was finally gaining the control needed to pass his third Trial? …Assuming that neither Saitō-sama nor Chikage-sama killed him in the immediate future.

"Raise your head." Saitō sounded perfectly calm, and perceptibly less cold. Once Kichirō looked up, he was subjected to intense scrutiny, and then motioned to rise. It was a relief to be on his feet again, and he felt better overall, despite the less than ideal situation he'd somehow created—again—with the Sakurai lord. He waited to be given leave to speak.

"We need to resolve this quickly," Saitō told him bluntly. "I cannot tolerate any further such behaviour. In fact, I'm not certain that I should allow you to accompany me at all. I would rather take a chance on Sen-hime's ability with magical wards than on a blade in my back when I expect an ally."

Kichirō swallowed back a sharp protest with an effort, and nodded. It stung to have his honour put into question—and in such a way! He would never, under any circumstances, stoop to treachery after promising help. He caught himself once more on the verge of rising anger—Saitō didn't understand that Oni didn't do such things—and gritted his teeth.

"That said," Saitō continued, "it may be that you were not fully yourself."

"I—what?"

"You were in close contact with an enemy whose preferred weapon is to inflame and entangle his victim's emotions. You hurt him badly, according to men who can tell—enough to leave blood on the pavement, at least. It is possible that he either retaliated at the time—and his magic went undetected, as it has before—or that he sought you out as soon as he had recovered. As you harbour resentment toward me, you would be a susceptible target."

"I don't—I mean—"

"There is no time to speculate further—either on the nature of your resentment, or on the cause of your lapse in judgment."

Kichirō felt his cheeks burning at the dispassionate evaluation. Arguing would just make things worse, and give Saitō-sama even greater reason to dismiss him as a sullen, half-trained child.

"Despite obvious reasons for sending you back to Kyoto"—wait, could that mean?—"I've decided that it would be best to continue on together. However"—the blue eyes were now as hard and clear as diamond—"if I sense any danger from you, I will not hold back. There is too much at stake, and I must prioritize my life over yours. I hold no personal grudge against you, but I will kill you if it is the safest and most expedient way to safeguard those for whom I am responsible. If you wish to withdraw to Kyoto for your own safety, now is the time to do so."

Humans are so quick to kill, whispered a voice in Kichirō's mind in disgust, and for a moment he wanted to agree, as it would console him to hold the moral high ground over his disturbing, too-powerful companion. However, Kichirō was too intelligent not to question whether the 'voice' was a fragment of his own memory, or the conjured artifact of a skilled enemy. He felt a wave of fear—of Saitō, and of the unseen enemy—but shoved it back without hesitation. He was here so that Chiharu didn't have to be, and for Kenshin, and for his mother. And others. If he were perfectly honest, he also wanted to accomplish what he'd set out to accomplish, as a matter of pride.

"Saitō-sama?" He received a brief nod to continue. "I understand. I deeply regret that my words caused offence." He'd bowed his head in apology—what more could he do? "Will you tell me—can I still be of assistance to you?" He realized as he spoke that he was looking for reassurance when he'd been asked to make a decision, and from a man who had declared him to be expendable. He waited for the inevitable rebuff.

"It is not a matter of being offended, Kichirō," Saitō told him instead. "Greater men than I am endure far worse, and men without honour are praised for very little. Right now, I need to know whether you are coming with me, or returning to Kyoto. You've shown that you can put your commitments ahead of your pride; that is why you still have a choice. Also, if there is enemy magic affecting you, then you seem to have frustrated its immediate purpose."

Kichirō realized that he was being offered a measure of the reassurance he was looking for. Saitō-sama wasn't angry at him now—that was done and over, as far as Saitō was concerned. At least, that was Kichirō's optimistic interpretation. As for Saitō's warning, it sounded bad, and it might be—probably was—in earnest, but it presupposed treachery on Kichirō's part, and that wasn't going to happen.

"I will go with you, Saitō-sama."

Saitō nodded, and set out again without fanfare. When Sen-hime contacted him a short time later, he told her that unless circumstances dictated otherwise, he would attempt to speak to his paternal aunt, Kazue-sama, before informing Kenshin that he would be visiting Kyoto. However, to minimize risk, Saitō and Kichirō would locate Kenshin ahead of time.

To Kichirō's surprise, Saitō didn't mention anything of what had passed between them earlier, not even his suspicion of enemy manipulation; he would have been embarrassed to know that Saitō had simply conveyed the gist of the incident without speaking aloud, partly to spare Kichirō's pride, and partly to reduce the chance of a recurrence. Saitō also omitted to tell him that, according to Sen, Chizuru had fallen into a deep sleep shortly after his departure, but that she—Sen—and Yamazaki—"your polite brother"—were in full agreement that it was a protective and nurturing rest.

It would be better not to wake her, Saitō-san, despite the increased security of being in Yase. She really is doing well where she is. Saitō had not been able to control his reaction to Sen's projected image of Chizuru, snuggled up in their futon despite the heat, with one arm curled protectively around the paired swords that he'd left behind. He'd gone red to his ears—he could feel it—and Sen-hime's impish grin had faded instantly at the raw longing for his wife that he'd been unable to suppress.

With unusual tact, Sen had ignored his distress entirely, and had merely commented that Chizuru had insisted on having the swords, although it had been Hijikata-san who had suggested the idea when Sen and Yamazaki had been unable to decipher what Chizuru kept saying in her sleep. I still don't know if Hijikata-san was initially just joking, Saitō-san, but it seemed to help a great deal, and she hasn't stirred since. Unless you are adamant that we move her—and Amagiri will insist on knowing your decision!—I would let her stay put. Satoshi is here now, and although that means Okiku has returned to Yase, I assure you that there is no lack of guards. Even Saitō's pent-up anxiety had given way to quiet amusement at Sen's image of loitering Shinsengumi in the streets—Harada's night patrolmen were depicted as randomly interrogating the most innocuous passers-by—and a purple-eyed ninja on the roof, and Heisuke and Shinpachi seated in the training hall looking rather appalled to discover both Satoshi and Amagiri there to assist them.

And Haru-chan and I are having tea and keeping an eye on Chizuru-chan. Haru-chan had a lovely time training with Hijikata-san earlier—I think she secretly prefers hakama and a sword to the elegant kimono she normally wears, but it's possible that she just likes the company. She tells me that I'm imagining things, but I think they're attracted to each other—what do you think? Saitō had scrupulously ignored that question, which had caught him more or less off-guard, and struck him as an unnecessarily whimsical. He definitely hadn't mentioned the matter to Kichirō.

Harada stood at a now-familiar gate, leaning casually on his spear. His headguard had been discarded, along with his Shinsengumi haori, in deference to the heat; they were neatly bundled and slung over one shoulder. He couldn't know it, but his eyes were more gold than amber in the pale light of the setting moon, and the shadowed planes of his face were somehow more supernatural than human.

He could sense her long before she reached him, of course, but they didn't exchange mental greetings this time the way they normally did. When Sen reached the gate, she unlocked both the visible and invisible locks, and drew him within the protective boundaries of the wards that she and Kimigiku—Kimiko—and Amagiri had set several hours earlier, before the newly crowned Lady of the Yukishima had taken her leave and returned to Yase to comfort her twin sister, and try to coax words from her now almost perpetually-silent younger brother. Akane would look after her, and Sen was grateful for that.

"Long day, hime-chan?" Strong arms encircled Sen's shoulders and cradled her head, and she leaned into Harada-san's chest without hesitation, the sound of his heartbeat as soothing to her as it always was.

"Too much drama, Harada-san. And when I checked in on Saitō-san and Kichirō-kun, Saitō informed me that Kichirō had shown every sign of having been tampered with by—what do you call him? The Spy?"

"I don't know that I call him much of anything, to be honest, but Hijikata-san calls him all sorts of names, few of which are fit for the ears of a delicately nurtured princess."

Sen snickered, but the humour died quickly from her eyes. "They're there now, you know. Saitō-san and Kichirō, I mean. And I have no idea what's going on. Even with various tools at my disposal, it wasn't safe to contact them once they were too close the Kazama estate. It's frustrating…"

Harada's grip shifted a little, and then Sen found herself lifted into his arms. She eyed him in surprise—though not dismay—and reached up to stroke his cheek. She hadn't been sure how he would behave, given the house full of Oni and Shinsengumi just up the path from them, but he seemed to be ignoring it—or them—at the moment.

"Would you know if they were in trouble, hime-chan? Saitō and the kid?"

"Were you a 'kid' at fifteen-and-a-half, Harada-san?"

"Yes," he replied frankly, gently tugging a lock of hair. "I just didn't know it. So, my question?"

Sen look away, troubled. "I don't know. I think so. If things go badly wrong, I'm sure I'll know."

"Is that a Princess-of-the-Oni thing?"

"Yes…"

"You know, hime-chan, I'm not your uncle's biggest fan—though that's probably just the fear talking—but I heard something interesting from him earlier today. Maybe you thought I knew, or maybe it's come up before and just hadn't registered with me, but it feels like you've avoided the topic, to be honest. Anyway, he said that your ability to see visions of the future is—and I quote—'unusually accurate for her age and experience.' He said that I should keep that in mind. I don't think he was speaking at random, do you?"

There was a long silence, during which Sen tipped her head back to look at the stars.

"Interfering bastard."

Despite the definite tension between them, Harada laughed, although he was sincerely a little shocked. "You've been spending far too much time around Hijikata-san, Princess—that's not appropriate language, especially for a woman!"

"I know. But Chiharu admitted to me earlier that she does it too now—tries to come up with what Hijikata-san would say when she's frustrated."

"I suspect she wouldn't say that one aloud, or to somebody else."

"That's what you think!" Sen frowned up at him, but then grimaced. "Actually, you're right."

"So… when are you going to tell me about it? Not the bad language—I suppose it's unfair for men to keep it to themselves, although I—well, anyway…"

"Chizuru-chan wouldn't swear."

"Seems unlikely, but she's not the one in my arms gazing at the stars."

"Soon. I'll tell you about it soon."

"Okay. But I haven't forgotten the way that you've always behaved as though I'm… the only one for you." Harada's soft, low voice, seemed a little quieter, and a little deeper, when he spoke those words. "And somehow I think it may be connected."

Sen didn't reply, which seemed answer enough on its own. Harada sighed, but set the mystery firmly aside in favour of bending down to steal a kiss. He'd meant it to be light, but Sen responded passionately, reaching up to pull his mouth more firmly against hers. Harada's body hummed in reaction—even more strongly than usual tonight—and he found himself roughly parting her soft lips with his tongue.

The engawa, where they usually sat, was both too far from the gate, and too close to the 'interfering bastard'—not to mention Amagiri-san, Chiharu-sama, and at least two nosy Shinsengumi captains who were up past their bedtime. Harada allowed his legs to fold under him and sank into the long summer grass just within the gate, his hands running lightly over Sen's back and shoulders, while his tongue and teeth explored her mouth. He trusted himself enough not to go too far, but right now she was very warm, and the way her hands caressed his bare skin, while her eyes and mouth demanded more kisses, was too much to ignore. He'd let go a bit; just enough to blot out a few uncertainties, for a while. Besides, Sen deserved that too.

In the training room at the far end of the front of the house, Satoshi emptied another cup of sake, and smiled gently in the direction of the front garden. Harada might as well learn now that the women of the family rarely failed to get their way—for better and for worse.

[END]

A/Note: Stay tuned for The Breach, Part II