Author's Note:

I hope the following provides a satisfying conclusion to last time's cliff-hanger. I managed to get most of what I wanted into here, but I need to write one more chapter to truly conclude "The Breach", because I didn't quite get to the breach itself. The focus of this chapter is on Saitô, Kazama, and Kichirô, as you would expect, but I couldn't resist a peek at what was going on back in Kyoto with Sen, Chizuru, and Chiharu, and what better narrator than the inimitable Satoshi? I'm finding myself caring more and more about my OCs, which has honestly been an eye-opener for me. I hope that I have made them sufficiently part of the story to seem natural and engaging to you, as well.

~ Imp

Chapter 94—The Breach, Part III

Lady Kazama Shiranui Kazue, mother of Lord Kazama Chikage, sat half-reclined and pale-faced in her beautifully appointed sitting room in the Kazama clan's well-concealed summer home. She had been deeply upset when she had learned that her beloved elder son's chosen bride, Yukimura Chizuru, had married an unknown human—or at best a part-Oni raised as a human. She had been further aggrieved to learn that the interloper had been recognized as an Oni by Princess Sen of Yase, and that her own daughter and younger son had been present at the wedding ceremony.

As it turned out, it was unfortunate that she had learned much of this information from Chikage directly, since he had—for whatever reason—greatly understated the power and training of the upstart. Lady Kazue would never have risked Chikage in an unsanctioned, direct confrontation with an unknown Oni lord who now appeared to have full access to his powers. At the very least, she wouldn't have supported, or perhaps even encouraged, such a battle. Or so she told herself.

[I - Vengeance]

In a wide clearing not far from the Kazama summer estate, the evening stars and rising moon shone down on an eerie scene. White hair framed the golden eyes and sharp horns of two Oni lords, one tall, and dressed in smooth white silk, the other slight, and dressed in blood and dark tatters. The silvery light gleamed off the edges of blades raised with killing intent.

There was a moment of stillness, and then the ringing crash of metal on metal. There had been no speeches, no explanations, just barely-seen movement and then that first exchange of blows—although in truth, there was little of an exchange about it. For the first time since childhood, Kazama Chikage had to bring up both hands to brace his katana against another's strength, and his eyes narrowed as he sought to gain enough space to counterattack. It wasn't to be. There was an eddy of air, barely noticeable even to Kazama's senses, and then the brutal screech of stressed steel as his blade was neatly trapped between his opponent's swords and he had to wrench it free by main force, or be disarmed.

Mastering his shock and anger, Kazama finally accepted his immediate danger, and shed any semblance of disdain. Images flickered, too fast to follow except by one of their own kind, as the slighter four-horned figure harried his snarling opponent without quarter, his expression an implacable mask of silent fury. In less than a minute, both his weapons had found their mark, and although the wounds inflicted healed instantly, the Sakurai blades now glistened with blood.

Another two minutes passed, and the difference in swordsmanship began to tell; Saitō Hajime had been an exceptional warrior, but whoever he was now was at least as skilled, and fully adapted to an Oni's strength and speed. The Lord of the Kazama was fighting for his life, and it only added to his bitterness that he now knew he had Amagiri's gruelling training to thank for having survived his new opponent's initial attack. He was certain that the Oni confronting him was no longer Saitō of the Shinsengumi, that filthy, ignorant part-blood. This aura was clear and bright, and each movement demonstrated a perfect union of dexterity and power. And yet… was the aura so very different? And how had this Oni lord surfaced from within the mongrel?

Kazama's fine coat and kimono were now torn and streaked with blood in several places. There was little time for rational thought, but it was clear that he needed to regain control of the tempo—at least for a few breaths—in order to survive. It was frustratingly difficult, but he was exceptionally strong in both mind and body, and could be disciplined when he needed to be. He eventually—finally—mastered himself enough to lash out with his mind and magic without conceding a lethal opening to the other Oni. The direct attack slid off his opponent's seamless mental defenses, but the twist of magic caused a tiny misstep, as illusion momentarily distorted both the ground and Kazama's image. Kazama instantly pressed his small advantage, and gave up finesse for brute force. Exerting all of his very considerable strength, he shoved his opponent backward, and then leapt back himself.

Having gained space—and hopefully time—Kazama began to weave some simple illusions. He wasn't sure how effective they would be, but direct attacks were clearly useless. It was disorienting to have to consider steps for escape; he was long-used to being superior to everyone around him, usually by a significant margin.

"Who are you?" He hadn't meant to ask, but he was annoyed, and the question could serve as a distraction from the way that he was now altering the scenery.

"Sakurai Kiyoyuki." The answer came without hesitation, in a voice that was too calm for the murder written plain in the golden eyes. "The Kazama slew my wife and sons, and my sister died defending my daughter from the human scum they brought with them."

If Kazama hadn't half-expected something of the sort, thanks to Amagiri's ramblings, the chill, bitter words would have shaken him badly. As it was, only firm belief in the honour of his line kept him from stumbling.

"That is not what happened! And you are Saitō of the Shinsengumi, not some long dead lord of a forgotten clan."

There wasn't so much as a flicker of surprise or concern from his opponent, although he did allow the deadly Sakurai blades to slow enough to ensure that he was heard.

"Princeling of the Kazama, this man has been tried in mind, body, and soul, in accordance with the oldest teachings of our kind. I am only here because he is worthy of the four-pointed crown. His children will bring honour to their clans." When Kazama literally snarled in response, the Sakurai lord smiled coldly at him, and then stepped effortlessly through an opening in his guard, as if he had been holding back all along. He caught Kazama's descending blade on the forte of his own katana, and in the same, smooth motion drove his kodachi into Kazama's chest up to its hilt.

For a moment, time stood still. Or so it seemed to Kazama, as agony tore his breath from him and drove him to his knees, hands spasming, sword falling useless to the ground. He heard a scream, and prayed that it wasn't his—neither the lying Sakurai ghost, nor the Shinsengumi dog deserved that satisfaction. Then, fear gripped him—not for himself, but for his younger brother. No! Not Kichirō!

"Chikage!" Kichirō's voice was anguished. The world was red with agony—why was he dying so slowly?—but he could still sense his stupid, wayward, stubborn younger brother about to throw himself uselessly into the fray. "Murderering bastard! I trusted you, and you killed him!" Running steps, the metallic sshink of a sword clearing its sheath.

Kichirō… don't do it… He couldn't speak; felt himself sliding sideways. Burning, golden eyes held him, filling his rapidly dimming vision. He sensed, more than saw, the other Oni switch to a two-handed grip on his remaining sword, and raise it for a final strike. His enemy intended to take his head—Sakurai Kiyoyuki was a creature of another age, after all. Strangely, all he could think was that he wished Kichirō didn't have to see it.

Saitō-san NO! STOP!

The voice—a woman's voice—rang clearly through his head. Who? Didn't she know it was already too late? The blade glittered above him in the dim light of the moon and stars, and he set his teeth against the agony in his chest, refusing unconsciousness, determined to die with his eyes open, and pride and honour intact.

[II - The Watchers]

In Chizuru's beautifully-appointed sitting room in Sen's home, all was chaos.

"Don't lose them now, Haru!"

"Chikage—brother—no! Kichirō—STOP!" There was grief and horror in Chiharu's voice, and she was shaking. Sen had her arms wrapped tightly around her cousin, tense with the strain of holding the link between Chiharu and Kichirō—and between Chizuru and, well, both combatants.

Kneeling at Chizuru's side, Amagiri was barely conscious, and sweat ran freely down his ashen face, along with blood from his nose and mouth. Chizuru was swaying where she sat, oblivious to the big Oni's grip on her shoulder.

"Saitō-san NO! STOP!"

On Chizuru's other side, Prince Satoshi of the Okikurune fought in grim silence to preserve the last of the Yukimura and her unborn heirs. Eyes closed, face blank with the effort of balancing so many wavering spirits—including those of Kazama Chikage and Amagiri Kyūju—he finally reached the most closely-guarded part of his niece's mind, and almost gave in to despair. Yukimura Sakurai Chizuru was trying to heal a mortal wound, which was bad enough, but she was also starting to panic because she couldn't sense her husband anywhere within the man they could see. Indeed, as far as Satoshi could tell, Saitō was now fully in the thrall of the spirit—or living memory?—of his long-dead predecessor as lord of the Sakurai.

Satoshi's mind raced to find a solution, even as the bulk of his power was being used to help Chizuru with her ongoing attempt to keep Kazama Chikage from dying. Not that Satoshi, himself, was especially inclined to assist the Kazama clan-head, but he didn't have either the skill or the energy to safely stop the process. He was interrupted—or saved—by a diffident hand on his arm, and the lightest of touches on his over-extended mental defenses.

"Satoshi-sama?"

Medical training, a marked gift for sensing Oni magic—Chizuru's in particular—and a familiar presence that was not dissimilar to Saitō's. Perfect. Without an instant to spare, Satoshi seized on Yamazki's implied offer to help as a reasonable facsimile of permission, and dragged the Shinsengumi ninja into the churning vortex that was Chizuru's mind and spirit.

Yamazaki-kun.

… Sir? The response was very wary, but immediate fear and anger were surprisingly well-controlled.

Satoshi was pleased, and even a little amused, despite the imminent disaster. If he'd been told that, one day, he'd be desperately grateful for the assistance of an untried, virtually unknown, part-Oni warrior, he would have scoffed. Well, less so since Shinpachi's birth, but still.

You know Chizuru reasonably well, and you are familiar with the basic characteristics of her healing energy. Please help me constrain her draw on her resources—and Kyūju-san—from her current attempt to perform battlefield medicine over a weak link at a distance of three- or four-hundred miles.

How? Behind the brief question, Satoshi sensed strong concern for Saitō, as well as Chizuru.

Saitō is uninjured, but he is not entirely himself just now, and that is upsetting Chizuru. Whether she means to or not, she is trying to heal his opponent. …Yes, Kazama Chikage… I share your general opinion, but we need to save Chizuru first, then sort out the rest.

To himself, Satoshi added the thought that whether Kazama Chikage lived or died, the end-result was going to be massively complicated. He sighed inwardly, but gave his full attention to teaching a gifted, but essentially ignorant, part-Oni how to strengthen and maintain a long-distance mental link, while assessing and containing the exceptional healing abilities of an Oni woman on the brink of mental collapse.

A few tense minutes passed, and then Satoshi—still intent on his work with Yamazaki—sensed another part-Oni enter the room. He didn't need Sen's cry of "Harada-san!" to tell him who had just arrived; the bright, unusual aura—and his younger niece's overwhelming relief—were hard to miss. Now we just need Vice Commander Hijikata. Apparently, he hadn't kept that last thought to himself.

The Vice Commander will not be happy about this. Satoshi was too preoccupied to discern whether his new assistant was being intentionally satirical, but he appreciated the masterful understatement either way.

I agree, Yamazaki-kun. But he might be helpful in trying to recall Saitō to his senses—although that's not exactly an accurate description of the problem. I understand that Hijikata-san managed to recall Saitō from the madness of his Trial of Mind.

There was a long pause in the 'conversation', if one could call it that, while Satoshi tested Yamazaki's 'hold' on Chizuru's output of healing energy. In all honesty, he had tossed the poor boy into the breach like a Dutchman with his finger in one hole of crumbling dike, but it looked like he would manage. Essentially, Yamazaki was bolstering the shield that Satoshi had put in place to limit how much life energy was being transferred, and he was also replacing Satoshi in trying to guide Chizuru's mostly automatic, and rather clumsy, first aid. Though it was a little tricky, since one didn't normally give first aid to somebody with a sword in their heart.

The only thing that had saved Kazama Chikage—for better or for worse—was that his illusions had caused the otherwise perfect strike off-target by a matter of a few millimeters. He still should have died almost immediately, but Chizuru had somehow reached out and repaired just enough of the tissue to keep him alive—and was now bolstering his own outstanding regenerative ability. In fact, thought Satoshi sourly, the arrogant donkey been saved twice over—first by Chizuru's healing, and then by whatever had prevented him from being decapitated by Saitō's bloodthirsty alter ego. Decapitation would have solved so many problems…

Thanks to Yamazaki, Satoshi finally had a moment to take better stock of the situation. Here in Kyoto, Sen and Chiharu were fully engaged in keeping the link to Kazama Kichirō open. Without him, their scrying would have been much more difficult, and would have taken much longer to establish. As much as Satoshi was less than enthused about helping to save Kazama Chikage's life, a visual link had been absolutely necessary when Chizuru had felt her connection to Saitō disappear. True love was all very well and good, but there were some serious downsides to it, apparently. Although… Saitō and Chizuru's situation was probably more of an example of what not to do as a newly bonded pair. It was just unfortunate—from a certain perspective—that the visual link had allowed Chizuru to instinctively reach out to save Kazama.

In any event, Chizuru was no longer on the verge of passing out, and she even seemed to be more rational and aware of her surroundings. Satoshi put that down to Yamazaki's presence, since she was gripping the ninja's hand tightly enough to hurt. In fact, even as he turned his immediate attention away from her, he was surprised to receive a thread of an acknowledgment from her. I will manage, Uncle. I promise. Her mental voice was almost dreamy, but that was his own doing, since he'd built a very tight wall around certain of her thoughts. Specifically, he'd blocked all immediate concern for her unborn children, as a preventative measure. She was very brave, but fear for the twins might undo her completely, with Saitō's mental state still unknown.

He'd been absolutely right about one thing, Satoshi mused, as he studied the bloody scene around Kazama Chikage and Sakurai Saitō Hajime: life had gotten very busy, and decidedly more tiring. His mouth quirked a fraction, although nobody saw it. The Vice Commander may have to come up with more swear words.

[III - Sakurai-sama & Saitō-sama]

Kichirō had thrown himself between his older brother and Saitō even as the latter's blade started to descend. He hadn't had time to do more than interpose his body—even with an Oni's speed, he'd been too far away to bring up his sword in a proper block. To his surprise, the murderous blow was somehow averted less than a hands-breadth away from striking, although the force required to turn the heavy weapon at the last moment sent its wielder staggering gracelessly sideways. Even as Kichirō watched, wide-eyed, Saitō crashed to his knees, eyes still blazing a bright, angry yellow-gold. Now that he was closer, the younger Kazama could see that Saitō's kimono and hakama were tattered, and soaked with blood.

Too scared to move, Kichirō remained where he was, trying to figure out what had happened, and why his brother and Saitō-sama had ended up in a duel of this magnitude. Somehow, he'd never quite envisioned the possibility of them trying to kill each other, despite Amagiri's—despite everyone's—obvious anxiety.

"You are—Kazama Kichirō?" Saitō had regained his feet, and Kichirō couldn't repress a slight shiver at the feeling that the person in front of him didn't recognize him in the least.

"Yes?" Idiot! What kind of answer is that? But Saitō—maybe he'd lost his memories?—didn't seem bothered by his uncertain response.

"I see." It was a little difficult to tell, in the gloom, but the Oni lord's austere expression—not so very different from Saitō's, honestly—appeared to soften a little. "You are fortunate that he thinks well of you—and that he fought to maintain your link to him. You owe him your life, young Kazama." There was a short silence, during which Kichirō fretted over his brother—he couldn't be dead—and Saitō studied him with cool, but no longer completely unfriendly eyes.

"Um, Saitō-sama?"

The Oni lord frowned, and Kichirō tensed.

"He should use his proper name. You will tell him that for me, Kazama Kichirō."

Kichirō swallowed, and tried not to betray his utter confusion.

"I—I'll do that, Sa-Sakurai-sama."

Apparently, he'd said the right thing, because the scowl faded. Almost negligently, Sakurai-sama—who was not quite the same as Saitō-sama—glanced behind Kichirō at Kazama Chikage.

"You can tell your older brother that he owes you his life. Assuming that he lives." There was no denying that the speaker would prefer Chikage to die. "Fortunately for him, the Yukimura have always been too compassionate for their own good." For a moment—although he couldn't swear to it—Kichirō thought he saw Sakurai-sama smile with real warmth. "But that is why they need us. Tell"—there was a brief hesitation—"tell Saitō that he does well to name his daughter after Chieko. And also"—this time there was something almost like humour in the cold voice—"tell him that he isn't bad with a blade, despite these degenerate times."

Bewildered, Kichirō could only nod. Dimly, he was beginning to sense that he was being watched, but the whole situation was so intrinsically creepy that it didn't immediately occur to him that his sister, and Osen-chan, were supposed to be watching him. He all but jumped when a boyish voice called out:

"Kirō? Where are you?"

Before Kichirō could respond, Kenshin stepped into the clearing, looking anxious. He froze at the sight of his eldest brother's unconscious—and bloody?—form, and his other brother engaged in some kind of stand-off with an Oni lord who looked like the mysterious Saitō-sama.

"Ah. The Amagiri child." Kichirō winced, but Kenshin just stared at the unknown not-quite-stranger.

"I am Kazama Kenshin," he stated, obviously trying to mask his fear.

"There are too many lies about here. You are Amagiri Yukishima Kenshin, raised as a foster brother to Kazama Kichirō. Your father is a brave and loyal man. It is past time that you be allowed to honour him as such."

"Kichirō?" Kenshin's voice wavered a bit.

Beset—once again—by problems beyond his immediate ability to handle—Kichirō did his best to put on a confident expression, and said: "I'll explain later, Ken. Right now, we need to get in touch with Haru-chan, and, and talk to Osen-chan, and make sure that Nii-sama is all right. Things got a little complicated, that's all."

The Oni lord who wasn't quite Saitō-sama shrugged. "Don't forget to pass along my messages, Kazama Kichirō."

"I—I won't, Sakurai-sama." Kichirō hoped that this meant Saitō-sama was coming back—and then wondered what, exactly, he even meant by that thought.

"Oyasuminasai, Kenshin-kun. Your father has paid off a great debt, although I sense there is more trouble to come. Live well, and train hard, so that you can protect what you hold dear."

For a long moment, Kenshin just went on staring, but then he bowed politely, if silently. Kichirō let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Kenshin could sometimes be too inquisitive, or even a little argumentative, and this was not the right time for it Not in any godsdamned fucking way—as Hijikata-san would say.

"Good night to you as well, Kazama Kichirō," the Sakurai lord continued, as though Kichirō's older brother wasn't bleeding—maybe dying—behind him. "If you truly wish to be a warrior, you need to train harder—the skills of this time are weak, from what little I've seen. For the sake of my descendant, and because there is still compassion in you, I hope that you never wear the four-pointed crown of the Lords of the Western Clans."

Completely baffled by how to reply to any of those statements, Kichirō fell back on his younger brother's approach—Amagiri-oji-san's approach—and bowed. Then it occurred to him that he shouldn't be bowing to the Oni who had harmed his older brother, but by then it was too late to take it back—and besides, right now he just wanted to talk to the version of Saitō-sama that was intimidating, but didn't send literal chills down his spine.

As if in answer to his wish, Saitō's eyes closed, and he slowly reverted to human form. Kichirō and Kenshin watched the transformation in silence, and Kichirō could feel the weight of the observers more keenly now, and even spared a thought to wonder why nobody had interfered sooner. Then again, he still didn't know exactly what had happened. Except that Saitō-sama had put a sword through Chikage-sama's chest.

"Kichirō-kun." The voice was the same, the face was the same, but—

"…Saitō-sama?"

All at once, Kichirō had the embarrassing desire to weep with relief. The scene—everything—was a nightmare. And he suddenly felt crushingly guilty for having pleaded—almost demanded—that Saitō-sama speak to his mother before leaving with Kenshin.

"I need to remove my blade, or your brother cannot heal." Kichirō felt as though Saitō was being very careful not to speak his brother's name. He sounded very composed and alert for a man who had been—as near as Kichirō could tell—very badly hurt, and then possessed by an ancestor in order to fight a duel to the death with the most powerful Oni of the current time.

"He's—he's not dead?" he blurted out.

"You would know if he were," Saitō replied bluntly.

Right! Kichirō mentally berated himself for missing the obvious. He suddenly remembered Sakurai-sama's parting words, and shivered. At that point, his sister cut in, although there was no visual image except that created by his own mind.

"Kichirō! Oh dear gods, I am so, so very happy that you are alive!"

Kichirō wavered between tears and playing it cool, and then saw his younger brother's white face and shocked eyes, and opted for mature confidence. Or something like that. "I'm fine, Haru-chan, and so's Kenshin. Although we're both a little confused by everything." He caught and held Kenshin's gaze, and then deliberately stepped aside so that Saitō could move past him to Chikage's stricken body, without Kenshin being able to see what Saitō was doing. He hoped that he was right to trust Saitō again.

"I think it's okay? Chizuru-chan is in touch with him, and she's—well, she says Chikage-sama will live. But oh, Kichirō, Amagiri is hurt and—"

"You were amazing, Kichirō. Really amazing." That was Osen-chan, overriding his sister. She sounded much calmer than Haru-chan, but he suspected it was the same kind of calm he'd managed—barely—for Kenshin. Or maybe it was just part of being the Princess.

"I need to talk to Kenshin," said Kichirō out loud, forcing himself to walk away from his older brother and Saitō.

"Actually, Kichirō—wait." Sen was speaking to him again. "If Chikage wakes up and sees Saitō-san, that—that might not be a good thing."

Kichirō stopped, but put out an arm to catch his younger brother around the shoulders before the kid could get any closer to Chikage-sama. Kenshin blinked up at him, but didn't resist being pulled away. In fact, he leaned into Kichirō's embrace in a way that threatened to bring back Kichirō's unshed tears.

"Kenshin, Onii-sama is going to be fine. He's going to be all right. But it's bad, and—and you shouldn't get too close, okay?"

"B-but, Kirō-nii, there is—there is a sword in his, um, in his body, I think? And—and the hilt—it looks like the sword of S-Saitō-sama?"

Kenshin was very, very observant, thought Kichirō, and then almost laughed—most inappropriately—when his sister thought the exact same thing at the same time. You've done so well, Kirō, his sister told him softly, echoing Osen-chan, and sounding genuinely proud. Let me speak to Kenshin? I don't know if I can hold a link to him directly right now, but if you hold onto him, I can manage.

"Kenshin?" Kichirō realized that Chiharu was speaking 'aloud', now.

"Nee-san? Where are you? I thought you were coming to see Mother! Why is it only Kichirō-kun and—and Saitō-sama? Why were they fighting? Who is Saitō-sama—he can be nice, but also very—" Kichirō heard Kenshin break off, and knew he was trying not to say 'scary'.

"Saitō-sama is… well, he's our cousin."

"Nee-san!" Relieved to have his older sister to talk to, and Kichirō's arm around him—not that he needed it, but Kichirō was obviously feeling anxious—Kenshin was sounding much more like himself again.

"Well, he really is! He is Uncle Toshio-sama's son." Chiharu and Kichirō both waited for the inevitable question, and weren't disappointed.

"But I've never heard of him! And Cousin Kyō has never spoken of him, and he's never visited. Or"—Kenshin paused to formulate appropriate words—"or is he… is he maybe the son of a different lady?" He practically whispered the last part, which is was understandable—the idea would be—should be—completely foreign to him. Both Chiharu and Kichirō quickly suppressed images of Okita-san's narrowed, emerald eyes, and Heisuke-san's cheerful grin.

"That appears to be the case," Chiharu replied gently. "And, well, Saitō-sama didn't know it himself until he passed the Trials."

"He didn't know? So his mother never told him? But he's an Oni lord—he wears the four-pointed crown, and, and, it's just obvious—right Kichirō? You know what I mean!"

"I know exactly what you mean," agreed Kichirō, rather more fervently than he'd intended.

They were interrupted by Osen-chan, who was still impressively calm. This time, Kichirō picked up on a complicated thread of emotion from his sister that made him suspect the cause of his cousin's composure. He wasn't sure why his sister had such mixed feelings about Harada-san's presence—except that the Shinsengumi captain was not an appropriate match for Osen-chan, by Oni standards—but the combination of humour and faint irritation was telling. If he also sensed a hint of envy, he ignored it completely.

"Kichirō, we really need you to be there in case Chikage comes to. He is exceptionally strong, as you know, and we have no way of knowing when he'll recover consciousness. Also—I should have said this sooner—I'm glad he's alive, Kichirō, I really am. I know it seems like your brother and I don't get along—well, we don't—but I don't want any Oni to die, especially not one of the strongest among us."

Kichirō heard nothing but truth in her words, and discovered that it helped to hear that nobody wanted Nii-sama dead—well, nobody he'd grown up with, anyway.

"I don't know why anyone would want to kill Nii-sama," Kenshin interposed. "And I know that Kichirō wants me to stay away, but I want—"

"Kenshin." Both Kenshin and Kichirō started, when Saitō's cool, rather deep voice came from immediately behind them.

"Y-yes?"

"We need to leave now. I'm sorry that you can't stay here for your brother, but everything that has happened will be for nothing if you remain."

"But—why? What is going on? What about Mother?"

"Kazama Kazue-sama and I spoke about this. She knows that I will take you to your sister, Chiharu-sama. She also knows that Amagiri Kyūju-san will be there to look after you. Kichirō was supposed to travel with us, but your older brother needs him here now."

Kichirō… you're going to have to make him go. Chiharu's mental voice was laced with worry, but she'd evidently made up her mind what to do. And you promised, you know. We both did. It would be dishonourable to renege.

Kichirō sighed aloud. It was all falling apart. But he'd come with Saitō-sama in order to help him take Kenshin back to his father—and mother, although he didn't really know Yukishima Kameko. On top of that, he'd come so that if worse came to worse—which it had—he'd be there to deal with Chikage-sama. He was genuinely worried about his older brother, and it felt a little as though everyone were against him, which wasn't fair. Nii-sama could be a little difficult at times, and you had to obey him, but that was no doubt true of any great lord.

I know, Haru-chan. And I understand. It's just… really hard. In a burst of honesty, he added, I don't want Kenshin to stop being my brother. He's always been my brother—I can't just stop how I feel!

I don't think you'll need to, Kichirō. Remember that Amagiri-oji has looked after both of you—all of us—for a long time. And… I know he'll be angry, Kichirō—Chikage-nii-sama. He'll be furious. But I love him, and hopefully one day he'll forgive me for staying away.

Kichirō was taken aback by how sad his sister sounded, but he finally understood that he wasn't the only one torn between conflicting duties and desires. He reminded himself—again—that he'd chosen to be here, for both Chikage-sama, and Haru-nee. He'd insisted, in fact, although he was feeling very young at the moment, and not at all as adult and in control as he'd expected. They'd tried to warn him how hard it might be—Osen-chan, and Haru-nee-san, and—most vividly of all—Saitō-sama.

"Kenshin, you have to go with Saitō-sama." Reluctantly at first, but then with greater determination, Kichirō began to weave coercion into his words. He might not have his older brother's power, or his sister's skill, but he was a pureblood descendant of the Kazama main line, and his young foster brother was used to obeying him—in serious situations, at least. "Saitō-sama is a good man, and he'll look after you until you get to Nee-san. It will be a good experience for you to get away from home, honestly—I know I've learned a lot. And Chiharu-nee-san needs you with her, she really does. I have to look after Chikage-nii-sama right now, and one of us should be there to make sure Nee-san is all right. I know you're only eleven, but that's how it is. I'm trusting you with this—and Saitō-sama is, too, because he made a promise to our cousin, the Princess, and to Amagiri-oji, to bring you to Kyoto."

Kenshin was listening, and Kichirō knew it was working. He gave his younger brother's shoulders a last, tight squeeze. "Be good, Kenshin. Mother knows about this—remember, she's the one who sent Chiharu to visit Osen-chan in the first place. Besides"—he forced himself to step away, with a short nod to Saitō—"once you're there, you can ask all the questions you want. We just happen to be in kind of a rush now, okay? Ganbatte!"

"Oyasumi, Kichirō-kun," said Saitō, quietly. "Ikuzo, Kenshin-kun." (1)

A little dazed, but reassured by Kichirō's firm tone, and by Saitō's unmistakable aura of command, Kenshin shot one last, anxious glance at his eldest brother, and obediently turned to follow in Saitō's wake. At the far edge of the clearing, Saitō silently took Kenshin's hand, and they both glanced back at Kichirō. He looked a heartbreakingly lonely, kneeling by Kazama's side under the moonlight. But then he turned to them and gave a preposterously jaunty wave, before making shooing motions to send them on their way. Not even the hair sliding untidily out of his ponytail could detract from the courage of the gesture.

Against all odds, the grim-faced Saitō-sama looked down at Kenshin with a faint, but unmistakable smile.

"It will be well, Kenshin. Your family is in safe hands with Kichirō."

[END]

Notes:

(1) Goodnight, Kichirō. Let's go, Kenshin.

A/Note: Another apology for thank yous and responses that are overdue - PoivronRouge, j'apprécie **beaucoup** tes commentaires, et je suis desolée que je n'ai pas répondu (c'est en grande partie pcq je veux penser avant de t'écrire et puis...). There is a good chance that I'll be able to undertake more writing in the near future, which will mean faster updates. I know that is much better for readers, and I assure you that it's better for me! Your comments and notes are all very much appreciated - thank you for still being with me as we head into the last few chapters before hitting the 100-chapter milestone.