Warnings: violence, murder, unhealthy coping mechanisms


Chapter 19. Of cats and mice

The wound on his cheek kept bleeding, and Kenshin didn't know why. It was quite shallow, just a surface scratch really. The blade hadn't even pierced through his cheek. But then again, weren't head wounds supposed to bleed a lot?

In any case, the wound attracted a lot of attention back at the inn. Okami-san even demanded that he show it to the doctor. Kenshin protested; after all, it wasn't that serious. It was just a little cut, not worth a fuss like this. However, when the old lady kept insisting, he finally gave in… after all, Okami-san had always been very kind to him.

The doctor, who looked after Choshuu Ishin Shishi residing in the inn, agreed with him. As long as it was allowed to heal in peace, the wound wouldn't even need stitches. It had been a close call, though. Just a little bit to the side and Kenshin could have lost an eye… or just a hint deeper and the blade would have pierced through his cheek and the infection risk would have made the subsequent healing process far trickier.

Perhaps he had been lucky. But truly, it was so hard to care.

The jobs kept coming and coming, a never ending stream of black envelopes, and now Kenshin's dreams featured a new addition: the desperately afraid but determined eyes of that young guardsman. The dreams got so bad that sometimes he would even remember them during the day.

…And the wound kept bleeding.

Kenshin tried not to let it get to him, but it was a losing battle.

One night after the job was done, Iizuka-san ran after him. It was raining heavily, the first of the heavy spring rains. They were walking back to the inn to report their success. For once, the job had been a bit further away from the city center, just across the river.

"You are truly Hitokiri Battousai, boy. You killed all those men and didn't get even a drop of blood on your clothes."

Kenshin looked aside.

It was true. He had learned to avoid the blood spatter, hoping to avoid the smell of blood. Not that it helped much. It felt like these days, everything was tainted with blood, even the food he ate. It was making it much harder to put aside his job, to relax, to think of anything but what he had become.

The terrified eyes, the screams, and the blood kept haunting him.

"Let's go drink sake together," Iizuka-san suggested after a moment.

Sake…? Kenshin frowned, looking at the examiner out of the corner of his eye. Why would he…? And why sake? It tastes horrible….

Just before he had left the mountain, Master had offered him a taste of rice wine. It had been a little more than a year ago.

Has it only been a year since then? It feels like a lifetime…

"No, thank you." Kenshin finally murmured.

"Suit yourself. I can easily drink alone. I'll see you later."

Kenshin watched the man go. He still didn't much care for Iizuka-san, to be honest… but then again, Iizuka-san was one of a very few people who even took the time to talk to him anymore.

People at the inn seemed to be starting to connect the rumors of Hitokiri Battousai with him. Not that anyone had dared to comment on it aloud, but the way they looked at and avoided him weren't out of mere unease, but out of genuine fear. Well, no wonder – while the examiners of assassination weren't supposed to talk about their job, it didn't seem to stop them from guiding their friends away from the danger.

It left Kenshin feeling lonely like never before. He had taken to steadily lowering the wall between him and Kenta. It helped some. Kasumi's top was always with him too, to remind him why he did this. This was all for the innocents, for the happiness of people like her.

But the eyes of that young man and the blood was seeping in everywhere, tainting everything around him… It was so hard to forget, to ignore. And his cheek kept bleeding.

No, there had to be a way to let go of this tension beneath his skin, the horrors lurking in his sleep.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Kenshin sighed. At a distance, he could hear the rowdiness of men getting ready to go out on the town for whores and drink. They wouldn't be back until after midnight, stinking of sake and then falling asleep, snoring like pigs.

What would I give to sleep like they do, even just for a night.

Kenshin scowled. What is so good about sake, anyway?

Iizuka-san had looked at him strangely, like he had expected him to take the offer. And come to think of it, even Master had drunk heavily back when he had first taken him as an apprentice.

Why?

For all that Hiko Seijuurou had always loomed larger than life in his mind, now that he thought about it, back in those early days… Master had always carried his jug of sake everywhere he went. Almost every night, Master had drunk. And no matter how inexplicable Master's logic had seemed at times, he had never done anything without a reason.

Kenshin frowned, looking out of his window. The gates opened and closed, a few men heading down the street towards the town.

Did it matter why?

All those men had to have a reason for going out and drinking, and he had nothing to do but lurk alone in his corner room. There was no hope of sleeping. And going to the yard to practice? Why should he bother? His targets already died too easily. No, there was nothing for him here.

So sake… would it hurt to try it?

Without pausing to think twice, Kenshin grabbed his sword and headed downstairs.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to find a bar in the city. There was always life in the city center, no matter the hour. However, Kenshin wasn't particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing anyone he knew, so he took his time finding a place that didn't have any familiar ki presences inside.

Of course, it wasn't the best way of picking drinking establishments – a fact that became obvious the second he stepped inside. The bar was the quieter sort, which was well and good, but the patrons were grey-haired, wrinkly old men with sour dispositions. However, it wasn't like Kenshin could head back out right away.

Sighing softly, Kenshin sat down and quietly ordered his sake from the sleazy barman that came to inquire after his needs.

It turned out that sake still tasted terrible: bitter, almost tangy like blood. However, he had come all this way here, and at least the patrons of this place didn't know him. No, compared to the fear and unease the Choshuu men displayed, it would be far better to be faced with honest dislike.

After the first bottle, Kenshin began to get used to the taste. However, the whispers around him were turning downright annoying.

Why did people have to keep commenting that he looked like a girl?

I definitely do not.

And red hair? Yes, thank you for noticing! Kenshin was well aware that he had red hair. He had always had red hair, it wasn't like he had stolen clothes dye and purposefully dyed it that way.

And yes, he knew he looked a bit like a foreigner… but not that much, really. Kenshin had seen proper foreigners since coming to the city. They looked different in the face, they were a lot taller, and their eyes were different. He had seen one with red hair, too. It wasn't the same red as his. It had been more of a light orange.

No, my hair is a proper red. A much better color.

And yes, I am short like a kid, thank you for reminding me of thatagain. Kenshin was slowly starting to suspect that he would never grow enough for that to change. It wasn't like he had grown a bit since last year. But then again, he was fourteen. At the end of summer he would be fifteen.

I will be an adult then.

How wonderful would that be? No one could call me a little kid anymore!

Maybe he still had some growth left? Young men grew in height through their late teens. Some were just later than others. It would be nice to grow over five feet, at least.

Why do I feel dizzy?

Maybe he should quit already. Go back to the inn, back to being the inn's favorite ghost story, being stared at and avoided and feared… back to the loneliness of his empty room and the soft futon he hadn't managed to use even once, back to nights filled with blood and screams, shouts and scared eyes.

No, it really is much better here.


The next morning, Kenshin woke up to a headache of epic portions and a rebellious stomach. His eyes felt like they had dried up inside his head, and then someone had scrubbed them with sand, and gods, how badly he stank! Had he fallen in the gutter on the way home?

Okami-san had scolded him like none other, afterwards. However, no matter how embarrassing that morning had been, it hadn't kept him from realizing that for the first time in ages… he had slept without dreaming.

It had been a powerful realization, so from that point on, whenever he had a particularly bad night, Kenshin would go out and drink. After all, he had the time and money for it. He had been saving his monthly stipend religiously for months, never finding anything to spend it on. And a few hours of being able to forget the job, to let go… and then to sleep like a normal human being? It was worth every penny. However, the hangover was always difficult and kept him from drinking as often as he would like. Especially if there was a possibility of a job the next day.

But still, Kenshin now knew why people drank.

The spring was changing into summer, bringing with it rains and warm days. The town was filling with people, the marketplaces bursting with vendors and wayfarers and a never-ending stream of samurai packing into the city. Now, the majority of his jobs were happening right in the city. It made Kenshin's work harder and far more time consuming.

The Ishin Shishi had succeeded in becoming a threat to the Bakufu. However, it had also sent the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi hunting them like bloodhounds. Not only did all his targets now have bodyguards, but wherever Kenshin finally got the deed done… the next day that block would be added to the policing forces' ever changing patrol list.

It was like playing a game of cat and mouse.

Because of it, Kenshin could no longer simply hide and wait for his targets. No, the ease of that was long gone. Now he would have to follow his targets for hours around the city just to find a safe location, where absolutely no one would see the assassination. He couldn't fail, not any more than he had already failed.

Another thing that was new, was that for some reason Iizuka-san had been trying to be friendlier towards him. It was a bit strange. Yet, no matter Kenshin's obvious hesitation, the examiner would go out his way to invite him out for sake, or to Shimabara.

Now, it wasn't exactly a secret that Kenshin had taken to drinking. Practically everyone in the inn knew it.

However, Kenshin wasn't sure if he actually wanted to spend more time than was necessary in Iizuka-san's company… and Shimabara? The mere thought of going to the red light district mortified Kenshin. He wasn't a kid anymore, true, but to go out and seek the company of whores?

But given that sake had been a somewhat pleasant discovery, even despite its terrible taste…

But still, no.

No, no, no. Definitely no. I would just embarrass myself.

What was he even supposed to do with a whore? The very thought made him blush. He had been noticing girls in the town, yes… but, but, actually talking to them? It would be a thousand times harder than talking to mere strangers!

So no. Absolutely not.

Besides, it wasn't like he even had time for that sort of thing, with the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi making his job harder, and there being so many targets…

While killing them was easy, all too easy… someone always had time to scream. He had tried to be faster because of it. He didn't want any more screams filling his nightmares.

The blood was already bad enough.

He had taken to washing his hands for hours after each job, trying to clean them. But no matter how he scrubbed and scrubbed, the blood never left completely.

And still, his cheek kept bleeding.

It was disturbing.

One night, Iizuka-san even commented on it. They were walking by the river, which was one of the better places for assassinations these days. Even if the Shinsengumi or Mimawarigumi saw them, they had an easy escape route.

"You are good, but lately you have been absolutely incredible."

"What do you mean?" Kenshin asked softly, glancing at the man out of the corner of his eye.

"You don't even give them a chance to scream anymore…" Iizuka-san murmured, rubbing the beard stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Kenshin blinked, and raising his hand, felt wetness on his cheek.

Again?

It has been almost two months since then! Why? Why does this keeps happening? It's insane!

Iizuka-san looked at him strangely. "There's a superstition that goes like this: if a sword wound is made by someone with a strong hatred, the wound will not heal until revenge has been extracted."

"Won't heal…?" Kenshin couldn't help staring at him in shock. "Strong hatred?"

That sounded scarily possible. After all, he knew ki and spirits… so how could he say that old superstitions weren't true? Kenshin's heart skipped a beat, shivers racing down his spine.

If that's true, then…

Iizuka-san smiled grimly. "Exactly. It may never go away."


…the rumors of Hitokiri Battousai still work to our advantage. However, the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi are becoming more active, which is affecting our work negatively.

As per your request, I will update you with information regarding Himura. I have made attempts to befriend him, but it seems that he is slowly falling deeper into insanity. He remains efficient in his work: he is fast, accurate, and certain. However, all his watchers report that Himura is cold and detached, almost completely emotionless. This state of mind stays with him longer and longer after the assassinations. The men residing in the inn report that his nightmares have become worse. Additionally, the wound inflicted by Shiregura Yubei's bodyguard, Kiyosato Akira, has yet to heal.

It's very likely that soon he will fall over the line and lose his sense of purpose. If this were to happen, Himura's sword skills will make bringing him down a very difficult task. My recommendation would be to transfer him to other duties as soon as possible. If he cannot be replaced, then we should keep pushing him to connect with people and our shared purpose, though I fear it's already too late.

Katsura frowned deeply, folding the letter meticulously.

He had been requesting frequent updates about his assassin from Iizuka, but lately the news were becoming worse and worse. The boy had been exactly what they needed in Kyoto, fulfilling the harshest of tasks admirably for nearly a year. However, now it seemed their luck was running out.

No matter how precarious things still were in Edo and in the provinces, maybe it was time for him to return to the Capital. If Himura was getting as bad as reported, if he truly needed to be brought down like a mad dog…

No, not yet – it couldn't be too late already.

Iizuka's suggestion of transferring the boy to another task could work… if they had anyone else capable of doing his work. Unfortunately, there was no other swordsman among the Choshuu ranks who could pick up the slack. No, for now, the best they could do was to keep monitoring the situation.

Katsura tapped his knee thoughtfully. What had Iizuka suggested, again? To push Himura to connect with people?

The boy didn't talk to people. According to the reports, he had taken to completely isolating himself. And even back in Hagi, the boy had been so very hesitant to talk. But if encouraging him to form bonds with his comrades wouldn't work, then what could? It wasn't good for the boy to keep bottling up all his emotions, that was certain.

However, why was Iizuka doubting the boy's resolve to fight for the Ishin Shishi?

Katsura had never met anyone as confident in their shared purpose as Himura. If the boy was losing that… no, he needed to talk with the boy and see for himself.

"Katagai, arrange things for a trip to Kyoto. There is a matter that I need to see to."


It was almost a month later, the start of summer, when Katsura finally reached the Capital. It hadn't been an easy journey. The Bakufu forces kept a close watch on everyone suspected of having ties to the Ishin Shishi. Thankfully, so far they hadn't been able to confirm that he was anything other than a mere messenger between groups. However, several other power players had already been caught and executed, and Katsura had no doubt that the same fate would befall him if his true role as the leader of the Choshuu rebels became known.

This was quite possibly the worst time to arrange a meeting with his assassin. If Bakufu spies caught a whiff of them and recognized his or Himura's true importance… it could lead to very bad times for Choshuu.

The game of cat and mouse was getting dangerous now, and secrecy was their best protection.

The fame of Hitokiri Battousai and the rumors it had spurred were a double-edged blade, truly. While it made Himura's assassinations more effective, inspiring fear among the Bakufu that they were able to use to their gain… it made Himura's identity a valuable commodity. If Bakufu forces found out his name or even just a partial description, they would turn the city over to find the boy. The boy's unique appearance certainly didn't help matters.

But on the other hand, if the boy was truly falling into madness… it would be a far worse disaster. No, it was absolutely essential that he met with the boy now and saw for himself where things stood.

For this reason, Katsura had arranged for himself and Katagai to stay in another Choshuu colleague's town estate. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it suited his cover story of taking part in meetings about clan matters.

Now, after enduring nearly a month on the road, it was truly a pleasure to gather his thoughts in the estate's beautiful garden. The koi were peaceful to observe. It almost let him forget his worries for a moment.

Then, Katagai coughed softly. "They are here."

Katsura nodded at his bodyguard and turned. Himura was following Iizuka on the stone path through the garden. The boy had grown a bit taller, maybe half a hand? However, the largest change was in his expression. Gone was the innocent childlike wonder, the wide eyes and naive hopefulness.

The boy's gaze was sharp, his eyes alert, not allowing a hint of his thoughts to show. No, this was not a child before him. And that scar on his cheek, it somehow added to the effect. It was like he was looking at a dangerous, if somewhat short and delicately built man.

And to think, just a year ago people had constantly doubted the boy's skills with his sword – well, not anymore. Katsura paused, his heart sinking.

This is what I have done.

No. Now was not the time for doubts. He needed to see if the boy was truly as far gone as Iizuka claimed, or if he'd come to a premature conclusion.

"It's been a while since we have been able to meet." Katsura started gently, keeping his voice light and welcoming. "Oh, someone was actually able to hurt you?"

The boy didn't even blink, merely murmuring in a bland tone, "It was due to my carelessness."

Katsura nodded and paused to consider. It wasn't that he doubted the claim. A year ago, Takasugi had said the boy was easily able to beat him in a duel. Considering the Kiheitai commander was one the best swordsman he had ever known, it wasn't likely that a rookie member in the posh Kyoto Mimawarigumi could have outmatched his assassin.

However, there was something worrying in that bland tone… and hadn't Iizuka said something about doubting the boy's resolve to keep fighting for the Ishin Shishi's goals? Katsura glanced subtly at Iizuka.

"Is something wrong?" the boy inquired softly.

Yes, I need to see if he still thinks as he used to, Katsura decided and smiled. "No, quite the contrary. I am attending a meeting tonight with Toshimaru and Miyabe. Important matters of clan policy will be discussed."

"You want me as your bodyguard?"

"No. I would like to join us as my adjunct." Katsura said evenly, looking at the boy seriously.

A year ago, the boy had only joined to fight for the good of the people, to selflessly help as many as he could. For him, rebelling against the Bakufu was not about gaining personal recognition, jockeying for a better position, nor had it anything to do with settling old grudges… no, it was all about the sincere wish to build a better world. Katsura had been impressed with the boy, then. No, not the boy – Kenshin.

Kenshin had shared his dream for the future and more importantly, he had been willing to put his skills and his heart on the line for that goal.

For a moment, even the silence became stifling as they waited for an answer. Then Iizuka couldn't handle it any longer, and prompted Kenshin, "Oh, good for you. What an honor!"

It was like those words broke the wall of emotionless coldness Kenshin had drawn up around himself, and just for a second his pale eyes flashed with horror at the notion.

And Katsura couldn't help but feel relieved.

He wasn't surprised when a moment later, Kenshin said softly, "I must decline."

"Hey! Your name could go down in history…" Iizuka still tried to derail him.

It was useless, Katsura now knew. Iizuka was wrong about their assassin. Kenshin's resolve hadn't weakened nor had his heart changed.

"It's easiest if Hitokiri keeps to the shadows as much as possible. I am not interested in history or honor. If we achieve a new age in which all can live in peace, that's enough. If there is nothing else, I will excuse myself." Kenshin murmured and left. Just like that, without a second thought or waiting for permission.

"Hey, come back here!" Katagai yelled, beyond offended at the breach in etiquette. "What an attitude! How dare he repay your kindness with that kind of response!"

Katsura couldn't help but scoff fondly. Who cares about a little breach in manners?

No, that doesn't matter at all.

Iizuka seemed to think different, musing out loud. "It's no good. Maybe he has killed too many, but lately he has been acting strange. I thought he would show some interest if we dangled bait right in front of his eyes."

"Bait?" Katagai frowned. "Wait – Katsura-sensei came all this way…"

"Call it whatever you want." Iizuka muttered, looking aside, deep in thought.

However, despite being wrong about Kenshin's resolve to fight for the cause, Iizuka had a point about his behavior. Back in Hagi, Kenshin had been so hesitant and polite, almost shy… this cool, almost brusque determination stuck out to Katsura's eye like a sore thumb.

"Iizuka's right. But I saw one thing here…" Katsura exhaled softly. "He may act strange, but his heart hasn't changed since I first met him. Maybe it's because he seemed so much younger then, that he is changed now, but his heart hasn't changed at all."

"That's good to hear." Katagai noted.

But is it, truly? Katsura frowned, not quite as sure. Because even if Kenshin's heart hadn't changed, something very clearly had. Thinking back on the brief meeting, he mused out loud, "It's because he hasn't changed that he is beginning to feel that terrible deterioration of being a hitokiri."

After all, no one could stay pure at heart and still kill like that.

No, one part of Kenshin would stay unchanged… but another would be a ruthless murderer.


Lately, Kenshin had been leaning on Kenta more and more. No, if he was entirely honest with himself, he had needed it to slip to his side of the wall more often and for longer periods.

It was easy. After all, the wall between them was getting quite low.

Part of him was terrified by it. He still needed Kenta, oh god, how much he needed it!

But at the same time, it wasn't Kenta's company, friendship, and comfort he wanted anymore… No, the horrible truth was that when it was on his side, Kenshin felt so wonderfully numb. He was faster and stronger with ki, and using the internal enhancement trick was so easy. And when its coldness spread over him, it was easier not to care who their targets were, to stay calm and concentrate on the task at hand.

Alone, he would hesitate, overthink matters… simply put, he would care too much.

But with Kenta on his side, he could just stop thinking and kill.

Kenshin hadn't even realized when he had started doing it. The jobs and months had just melded together into one neverending night. He wasn't even sure if he wanted the spirit to be on its side of the wall anymore. Maybe it was exactly like Kenta kept saying, that they were better together.

They didn't even talk much anymore.

Maybe I should just rip away the last pieces of the wall and be done with it. Kenshin mused, staring at the bottom of his sake cup. After all, why wouldn't I?

Sure, Kenta had been with him forever. He had always thought of the spirit as his dearest friend, the only one who was always on his side, something that no one could ever take away from him. But if he and the spirit were together, then they couldn't be separated again… and they were good together.

Together…

They could do every Hiten Mitsurugi technique. Even the damn Doryuusen that had caused so much embarrassment for him. After all, it was just a matter of concentration and power.

Together, they had plenty of both.

And when they were together, killing didn't hurt so much.

Maybe I need to stop drinking for the night. Kenshin sighed moodily, all too aware how depressed he was feeling. Scowling, he tried to pour the last dregs of his sake bottle into his cup. Even as sloshed as he was, the heaviness of alcohol muting everything around him… still his sake tasted of blood.

Back in the mountain, Master had said that if one didn't like the taste of sake, it meant there was something wrong with the person.

Now, Kenshin could believe it.

Then, all of the sudden, Kenta nudged him.

What?

There were a pair of samurai walking towards him. No, not toward him, but to the table behind his? Kenshin blinked, turning to look.

Oh…

"Hey, woman!" the samurai grinned, "Have a drink with us!"

What's a young woman like her doing here, drinking alone?

"We are Aizu Ishin Shishi, we risk our lives day and night for common people like you! Drinking with us is the least you could do to thank us!" The other samurai announced, puffing his chest like he had something to be proud of.

What an idiot! Kenshin scowled. And to bother a woman like that? That's disgusting. A girl like her has no chance of defending herself!

If there was one thing he had always hated, it was people abusing their power. So without pausing to think twice, Kenshin remarked, "Aizu is on the Bakufu's side, idiots."

The brutes turned around, slow like ogres. The taller samurai demanded loudly, gripping his sword, "What was that?"

What a pair of morons. Kenshin scoffed.

Instead of following his voice, they tried to assert their power over the crowd. The rest of the people in the bar were quiet, staring at the commotion warily – but none of them stepped in to interfere.

"That's what I thought. Stay out of this." The taller samurai said, letting his hand fall off his sword.

His comrade grinned smugly. "That was a close one for somebody."

Really, samurai like these were disgusting examples of the filth flooding the town. Kenshin frowned in thought, glancing at the girl. If he left it at this, they would go on bothering her, and no one here seemed willing to stand against those two blundering fools.

Why? Were they truly so frightening to the ordinary townsfolk? Even with swords at their waist, these countryside samurai weren't worth much.

Yet, the fact stood. If not for him, that girl would be in trouble.

Well, it wasn't like he wanted to order another bottle of sake… and those two idiots needed to be taken down a peg or two. Kenta was all but squirming on its side of the wall, eager to get to it.

Kenshin smiled grimly, allowing it to slip through and said softly, "It certainly was a close call. If you had drawn your sword, you would have been fighting me."

"What!"

And it was only then that those brutes noticed him. The bigger and louder of the pair reached for his sword, obviously going for a rather pathetic version of quick draw—

Directing his ki to his hand, Kenshin stopped the draw with his palm before more than a handspan of the sword left its scabbard.

It should have been an impossible move for a man his size to perform. No, it was a move most fighters wouldn't even dream of attempting, period. But for Himura Battousai, with Kenta's enthusiastic help… it was as simple as breathing.

Kenshin remarked softly to the stunned samurai, "Let me give you some advice. The violence is only going to get worse. Kyoto is no place for hypocrites. If you value your lives, you should run back to the countryside."

The tall samurai whose sword he was holding stared at him, his eyes wide as saucers. Mutely, he tried to budge his sword, only to see it wasn't working. Kenshin stared at him calmly, pressing his hand forward, pushing the man's sword back into its scabbard.

Behind them, the patrons of the bar seemed to realize the blundering idiots were no threat after all.

"Go home you frauds!" someone even dared to shout. The rest of the crowd agreed, voicing their displeasure, and seeing how unfavorable the situation had become, the brutes ran out of the bar with their tails between their legs.

It was an amusing thing for Kenshin to witness.

After all, people often fell silent and tried not to be noticed when they were afraid, as if being quiet would stop violence from reaching them. Yet, when someone strong stepped up, even the weak would gather their courage and stand up for what was right. It was why the Ishin Shishi and even he fought, when all was said and done.

Nodding his apology to the owner, Kenshin also took his leave.

Still, he couldn't help but moodily reflect back on the chain of events. Before, guys like that wouldn't ever have gotten under his skin… and he wouldn't have dared to step in with a stunt like that, not without a clear objective. But these days, it was getting easier and easier to get into fights.

Perhaps it had something to do with how much Kenta liked fighting? Or was he just beginning to let its eagerness get to him?

It was raining outside again. The weather had been miserable the whole day, but at least it was consistent. He had taken an umbrella from the inn just for this reason, actually.

Now it was almost peaceful, the rain having driven most people inside. Kenshin was in no hurry. He had drunk enough sake to be a bit dizzy. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk so much, but then again it had eased the worst of his restlessness and allowed him to forget the eyes, the screams, the blood… even if just for a little while.

He was deep in thought, deep enough that he didn't pay attention to the ki presence flaring just ahead of him. Only Kenta's warning shove against the wall allowed him to dodge the blade thrown at him.

The blade sliced through his umbrella, cutting the wax paper with ease.

Dammit!

And instantly, Kenshin focused, letting the spirit flow to his side of the wall. The world slowed down, and finally he saw a man ahead of him, armed and dressed in all black, a mask covering his face. His weapon was strange, two swords connected by a long chain… allowing him to throw them and pull them back at will.

There was no doubt about it, this man was a professional killer.

…Just like I am.

No, focus!

He is here to kill, but why me? Who knows enough to send anyone like him after me?

The Bakufu?

Kenshin gripped the handle of his sword and settled into a stance, waiting. His balance felt off, the dizziness of booze clouding everything just a shade...

The assassin growled with impatience and threw his sword again.

Kenshin deflected it, but instead of pulling it back like he expected, the assassin let it hit the ground.

What? But why would he…

And then the chain rose, snapping tight around him. The assassin had jumped to the wall and was pulling it tight with all his strength. The chain pinned his arms against his body with bruising force, leaving him helpless. Kenshin gasped – but already the Assassin was jumping down, his sword poised to strike right at his chest.

Oh fuck.

But Kenta's coldness was all his, he couldn't lose. Not even against dishonorable tactics like these. Kenshin glanced down at his feet, and managed to grab the handle of the assassin's blade from the ground and channeled his ki to his legs and—

"Aaaaaaaah!"

The blade he had taken cut through the assassin's shoulder… and cut and cut and cut until the man dropped down in two halves.

Then, another ki flared behind him.

It was cold, collected, unusually defined… and so cool and suppressed that it was almost familiar.

I know this presence, don't I?

Kenshin turned to look, almost expecting to see something…

…White.

A soft gasp cut through the silence like thunder. Kenshin blinked dazedly. It was the girl from the bar.

She was standing in the middle of the guts and miscellaneous gunk from the corpse that was splattered all over the ground, the blood spreading further in the rain. It was everywhere, staining the girl's umbrella, her white kimono…

Then the realization struck him.

Here he was, in the middle of the street with a sword in his hand and a bifurcated body at his feet, and worse, she was looking right at him. There was no doubt that she'd seen too much.

…I can't let anyone see me kill. Katsura-san was always clear about that.

There was no question about it. If he let this girl go, she would know he was a killer. And the corpse at their feet had been killed in a manner only Hitokiri Battousai could do... If she said anything about it to anyone, soon the Bakufu would know what their most hunted hitokiri looked like.

I can't risk it.

Kenshin tightened his hold on the sword.

I have to kill her.

"I followed you because I wanted to say thank you," a melodic and calm voice remarked slowly.

Thrown utterly off-balance by her voice, yet again, Kenshin glanced up only to see her walking closer. Ten paces, then five, then three… then she was standing just in front of him and Kenshin couldn't do anything but stare.

She's so tall… and why isn't she screaming? Why isn't she running away?

Her ki felt so familiar, cold and collected in a manner that just screamed home and safety. And even the night's darkness couldn't hide her beauty. She had the look of a real lady, a woman every man would speak wistfully about.

Even drenched in blood, she wasn't screaming.

Instead, she mused out loud, "They always say at tragic scenes, ''a rain of blood falls,' but you really made it... rain blood."

A poem…? Kenshin gaped in disbelief.

The girl was as pale as a ghost among the blood and rain, dressed in that white kimono, a purple shawl loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were large, dark like the night sky, and he felt like he could easily forget himself in them…

Her eyes closed, and she began to fall.

It was instinct, nothing more, that made Kenshin drop the assassin's sword and catch her before she hit the ground.

She fainted?

Errr, well, it's a natural reaction to seeing all this blood. After all, don't girls always faint when they see blood?

Kenshin blinked awkwardly, staring at the girl in his arms.

Ugh, what should I do with her?

He couldn't exactly leave her here. It was very late at night, who knew what would happen to a girl left alone? And what about the mess she had seen? She was a witness to things the Bakufu would kill to find out!

And what should he do with the corpse? This street was right in the middle of town. The policing forces would raise hell about a murder scene like this! But it wasn't like he could clean this up alone, either…

Sure, he had seen the examiners cleaning up his assassinations when they simply needed people to disappear… but it was always hard work and took time, something he definitely didn't have right now.

Besides, he had an unconscious girl in his arms. A damn heavy girl at that. Kenshin grunted, adjusting his hold on the girl – drawing her arm over his shoulder and scooping up her legs.

Dammit!

It isn't like I have a choice here!

The living were more important than the dead, and what did one dead body matter in the bloodbath that was Kyoto these days?

Unfortunately he knew only one place where he could actually take the girl…

Well, Okami-san likes me. Hopefully enough to help me with this… or maybe I could try to smuggle her inside without anyone seeing me? Kenshin frowned in thought, adjusting his hold on the girl yet again, trying to get her head to lean against his shoulder.

…She has a really nice perfume. A scent of white plums.

No, focus!

One problem at a time. Kenshin gasped for breath, changing his hold yet again. Already his arms were straining against her weight. Well, no wonder – no matter how beautiful, she was both taller and heavier than him. How the hell could he carry her all the way to the inn?

It took some doing, some cheating with Kenta's help and a lot of changes in carrying position, before he finally managed to drag her back to the inn. However, at the end of the exercise Kenshin was sweating like a pig and his arms and legs shook like grass in the wind from the effort.

How had the girl managed to stay unconscious through all of it? Weren't fainting spells supposed to be brief?

In any case, it was very late, almost near dawn. Getting her to the second floor of the inn unnoticed wouldn't be simple. He couldn't go up the stairs. After all, huffing for breath like this, struggling to carry her… he would surely wake up everyone and what would people say if they saw her?

Nothing good, for him or for her.

No, he had to be sneaky about this. What if he concentrated enough ki and jumped just right, could he get enough altitude to reach the first floor's awning? From there it would be easy to get to his window…

However, before he had a chance to try it, Okami-san's ki presence came down the stairs.

Uh oh, she is still up? Errr, time for the Plan B.

Kenshin slipped inside the back door and drew a tentative smile to his lips.

"...I'm back." He called out loud, keeping his voice soft so as not to startle the kindly old lady. She would give him hell is he scared her, and besides, he would need her help for this.

"Oh, Himura-kun. You are home late tonight." Okami-san greeted him calmly, before her eyes fell to the girl in his arms. Both of her brows shot up in surprise. "Himura-kun, what are you doing?"

"Errr…" Kenshin cringed, all too aware how bad it looked. He lowered the girl to the floor, and straightened, trying desperately to come up with an explanation. "Um… ah, there was a fight, and she fainted and…"

The old innkeeper frowned, but walked closer to take a good look at the girl.

Kenshin all but sighed in relief; finally things were looking up! At the very least, Okami-san would know what was wrong with the girl. Hopefully. If not, then she would have some idea what to do now. She always did… and he really didn't.

Looking aside, Kenshin rubbed his aching arms. It felt like every bit of him was hurting.

Finally Okami-san glanced at him and asked, "Are you sure you didn't just get her drunk?"

What? What for?

Kenshin gaped, before realization struck. "No!"

"This is not a teahouse, but just this once…" The old lady snorted indelicately, before shaking her head. "I will get her some warm water and a change of clothes."

It was like all his blood was concentrated in his face, he was so mortified! However, despite the admonishment, he had gotten what he had wanted… kind of.

Kenshin sighed and heaved the girl up once more.


It had been a struggle and half to get the girl to his room quietly, but when it was done, he had left Okami-san in charge of the girl and headed out to the backyard for a quick bath. After all, he too had been drenched in blood and sweat. A disgusting combination, truly.

When he got back, Okami-san had gotten the girl changed into fresh clothes and set her to sleep on his futon. But, but… why his bed?

Why couldn't she had gotten her own bed?

Not that he had ever used the thing, but it was the principle of it! Kenshin had hissed his protests at Okami-san, hoping against hope that the old lady would come to her senses and arrange another room for the girl.

However, Okami-san had told him that this was an inn, not a charity… and there was absolutely no room for her anywhere else. And because he had dragged the poor girl home, it was his duty as a gentleman to share his room.

Kenshin was left staring after her, completely at a loss for words.

How was he supposed to get any sleep with someone in his room? He barely managed to sleep as it was! With so many people always around him, all their unwitting noises… he could never relax enough. Not even here, in the inn with people he had been boarding with for the better part of a year.

And now, all of the sudden, he was expected to share his room with a complete stranger?

But still, if it was just for tonight… maybe, just for one night he could stand it.

After all, he was so tired. The night had truly been a long one, with him dragging the girl's dead weight around the town… Kenshin settled against his stack of books, and clutching his katana against his shoulder like he was used to, he turned to look at the sleeping girl.

She was really pretty. Her pale skin looked really soft and her long, silky black hair fell around her pretty face.

…Yes, really beautiful.

Kenshin sighed and looked away morosely. He had been noticing girls for a while now, but they had always seemed so unapproachable. Besides, it wasn't like any of them would notice him in turn. At least, not in any way that could be called favorable. He was ugly and weird, he had always known it, and on top of that, he was a killer now.

It wasn't like anyone could ever like a killer.

Maybe Hiten Mitsurugi and killing had been the reason why Master and Osumi-san hadn't gotten married back then? He had been just a child, but even he had noticed how much they had liked each other.

…But if that's true, then there's no chance of any girl ever liking me, is there?

Letting his head fall against the stack of books, Kenshin closed his eyes. After all, all these men who had even a suspicion about who he was… These good, strong Choshuu samurai were all deadly afraid of him and couldn't understand that it was for the cause, for the people, for the new era.

If they couldn't understand it, how could he hope for a mere girl to be any different?


Betaread by Animaniacal-laughter in 26.2.2016