-1Chapter 8

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Kenshin's hotel room was clean, bland and soulless, and also larger than his apartment in Tokyo -- and, when he quickly calculated the exchange rate in his head, cheaper. It was on the fourth floor, and had nothing distinguishing it from any other hotel room anywhere in the western world.

He'd wandered enough -- both early in his life and later -- to have a solid appreciation for a clean, bland, unassuming mid-rate hotel room, even if the beds were too soft and everything was designed for people taller than he was.

Kenshin pulled his wet boots off and set them on the tile by the door, then shed his rain-wet shirt and jeans, and rummaged briefly through his single small duffel bag to find an old, comfortable gi. The room was toasty warm after the pounding rain ouside; central heating was a wonderful thing. It felt good to get out of the wet clothes and relax.

The TV held no interest for him -- he'd watch certain shows, but none of them were going to be on the TV here. Yawning a bit, despite the fact that it wasn't even dinner time yet, he retrieved his laptop from its case and plugged it in.

There were several e-mails from family on mundane things, mostly people just keeping him in the loop -- more and more people were getting e-mail, these days. It was something that amazed him, really, the ability to send a letter electronically in an instant. He was fascinated by technology; Atsuko accused him of being like a raven, attracted to anything bright and shiny and new.

Thoughts of Atsuko reminded him that he'd promised her a phone call. He checked the time; it was late, in Tokyo, but Atsuko was a night owl. He was confident she'd be awake -- she was a photographer and kept very odd hours, often working in the darkroom until well past dawn. He picked up the hotel phone, plugged his calling card numbers in from memory, and put the call through.

A radio was playing a somewhat silly pop song in the background and her voice was friendly, cheerful, despite the very late hour her time. "Moshimoshi!" She shut off the radio only after answering the phone.

"Atsuko-chan." It felt good to speak Japanese again. "I am very glad to hear your voice, my friend."

"Ken-san!" She crowed, loudly. "About time you called me, old man!"

"My apologies, Atsuko-chan. I have had a very long and difficult day. I only now arrived at my hotel."

"How's Akane?" She dispensed with social niceties and got right to the point. One of the things he really liked about Atsuko was that she spoke her mind. This tended to piss many people off, but he valued the conversations he had with her-- and knew, when she gave an opinion, it was real. Too many people tended to put him up on a pedestal.

"Do you even need to ask?" He let some of his irritation slide into his voice. With Atsuko, he could let his guard down. "She's in the hospital. I do not know what to do with her when she gets out."

"Akane's never been the brightest of brats." He could almost see Atsuko's dismissive shrug. "I don't know either. Maybe spank her with the flat of that sword of yours."

"Atsuko!" He said, and laughed despite himself, because Atsuko's sense of humor always did that to him. The woman was incredibly irreverent.

"Seriously." Now he could picture her tucking her legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch, phone to her ear, and probably a cigarette tucked between two fingers. In the background he heard a whoosh of exhaled air. Yep, smoking. "Seriously, Kenshin, how long are you going to stay in Canada?"

"Until she's better, or until I give up and turn her back over to her parents." The latter would be an admission of failure.

"Oh, that reminds me. Toshio said you'd better call him."

Toshio was Akane's father and he had Kenshin's cel phone number. He could call it at any time. Demanding that Kenshin call him was a power game. Kenshin gritted his teeth for a moment, then said, "Aa. I'll call him in the morning. He'd not appreciate me waking him, no he would not."

"You sound so thrilled about that." Atsuko shared his low opinion of her brother-in-law.

"He ... doesn't understand that the more critical of Heather he is, the more she will rebel. She would do anything for praise from him, but that one has a fighting spirit." He trailed off, suddenly, as a thought occurred to him.

"Kenshin-san?" Atsuko said, after he'd been silent for too long.

"It is nothing. I just had an insight into Heather, is all. You know how she always does the opposite of what one wants her to do?"

"You're thinking reverse psychology." Atsuko said. "Dangerous, Kenshin; when I spoke to her on the phone it was clear that she has a very low opinion of herself and she thinks very highly of you. If you say mean things to her, she may simply believe them."

"Not from me." Kenshin lay back on the bed, phone tucked in the crook of his neck, and thought for a moment. He heard Atsuko exhale smoke again. He'd nagged her about smoking many times, and she only laughed. "You're right about that. I think perhaps we can motivate her to improve herself with a combination of 'reverse psychology' and 'good cop, bad cop' -- what do you think?"

"I'll be the bad cop," Atsuko said, cheerfully. "She hates me anyway. Want me to come out for awhile or try to do it over the phone?"

He seriously considered the offer for a long moment. When he didn't immediately respond, she said, "You pay my fare and I'll there in a heartbeat. My visa's still current from that convention a couple months ago, and I'm getting stir-crazy anyway. And it's hot here, we're having a heat wave. Seacouver's supposed to be cool."

"Bring sweaters," Kenshin said, finally, grinning. Then he sobered, "Wait, no, Atsuko, this may not be a good idea."

She said, far too astute, "Uh-oh. Immortal trouble?"

"Yeah," he admitted, "and he's got a past history with me. Soujiro Seta -- someone I fought a long time ago."

"Kenshin Himura, you idiot!" She said, indignantly, "And when were you going to tell me this?"

Now he knew she was coming, whether he paid her fare or not. And he was worried about her safety, because it was Soujiro. On the other hand, she was a grownup, she knew what the risks were, and who was he to tell her not to take them? Still, he made a minor, token attempt at dissuading her. "Atsuko, he's not after my head, he's after the head of a friend. Please do not worry."

"And of course, you're going to get involved, because that's who you are and what you do." Atsuko said, and he could picture the sly, teasing look in her eyes when she added, "An Immortal friend? Is she pretty?"

"Atsuko-chan!" He protested, indignantly. "And no, he is not pretty. Well ..." Kenshin amended, with a grin, "You might think so, but he's got a girlfriend, so no luck there, woman."

"Ah, darn. I'd love to have a man who looks youthful when he's centuries old. Particularly when I'm an old crone and he still looks young. The gossip would just be delightful."

Kenshin dutifully laughed, and forbear mentioning to her that he had, actually, been in that position. The gossip hadn't been delightful at all. Eventually, in Kyoto, as the years passed and he did not age, rumors had started that the Battousai was a demon. He and Kaoru had needed to leave, move far away, and start over. They'd told the neighbors they were family, but people had guessed the truth eventually -- or at least, part of it. The gossip had been vicious and had grown and spawned new rumors and nastier assumptions. Few had been willing to accept that the simple truth was that he, a handsome and apparently young man was madly and truly in love with a wrinkled, grey-haired, frail old woman.

"Kenshin, you need me there, don't you?" Atsuko continued, voice softer, revealing a side of her that few people saw -- the side of her that cared about others more than she cared about herself.

"Oro, I ..." Truthfully, he could use a hand with Heather. If Atsuko helped with caring for Heather, it would leave him free to keep an eye on Soujiro and Mac. And she was loyal. And a friend. And she could handle Heather, probably better than he could.

"That would be a 'yes' that you don't want to admit, isn't it, old man?" She said, triumphantly.

"Aa," he admitted in defeat. So Atsuko would be joining him -- probably on the next flight out, if he knew her. "I could use your help, Atsuko, this I could. And thank you."

"Not a problem, old man. Not a problem at all. I knew I should have come in the beginning."

They chatted for awhile on mundane things -- family gossip, weather, her career, and what he thought of Seacouver. Nothing important. Finally, she yawned, reminding him of how late it was in Tokyo. He said, "I should let you get to bed ..."

Softly, teasingly, in a sultry bedroom voice, she said, "... and I wish you were in it ..."

His cheeks were probably as red as his hair. "Atsuko!"

"Hey, hey, I'm not blind, Ken-san." She sniffed at his indignant tone. "I'd have to be, or gay, to not notice your butt in those jeans you wear. And with that note, I am going to bed."

"Atsuko-chan!" he protested at the dial tone. Damn her, she always managed to embarrass him!

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He realized he was being followed by another Immortal the following morning, as he walked down a busy street. The other Immortal's ki -- or buzz, as MacLeod would call it -- was incredibly strong. Kenshin slowed down, letting the other catch up.

"Soujiro." He said, as Seta matched strides with him.

"What I don't understand," Soujiro said, conversationally, "Is how you've managed to stay alive all these years without killing anyone. I can't see you cowering on holy ground. You're no monk."

Kenshin shrugged. "This one can defend himself."

"Ye-es, I suppose so." Soujiro had his hands in his pockets and eyed Kenshin sideways, with some amusement. Kenshin realized it was the emotion in those eyes that had made Soujiro so hard to recognize earlier. Whatever had happened to this man, he'd at least found his heart. Unfortunately, Kenshin was worried that the heart that he'd found was blackened and twisted into something ... unfortunate. "That you can."

Kenshin stopped short, folded his arms, and said, "What do you want, Soujiro?"

"My curiosity satisfied, is all," the man regarded Kenshin with some amusement. "I had never thought to see you again. To find you are one of us and still alive -- it's quite the shock, Himura."

"You," Kenshin said, "are not shocked by anything."

"True. Call it an unexpected pleasure, then. I really should thank you, you know." Soujiro said amiably. "For what you did for me."

"Still planning on killing MacLeod?"

"Yep."

"Then don't thank me. He's a good man, Soujiro." Kenshin glared, eyes gone flat and cold and menacing. A lesser man would have stepped back, but Soujiro didn't even really react to that look.

"What are you going to do to stop me?" Soujiro asked, in a conversational tone.

"Don't," Kenshin said, "Test me, Soujiro."

"That was actually an interested question," Soujiro gave him a bright smile -- Kenshin was struck with an acute case of deja vu for the boy he'd been when he saw that smile. "I mean, if you're not going to take my head, we can beat up on each other all day and not resolve anything. Neither of us will take any permanent damage. That is, of course, unless I win and kill you."

Kenshin said coldly, no more impressed by Soujiro's smile than Soujiro had been by his glare, "The last Immortal who tried to kill me is still in jail. Last this one checked, assault is a crime."

"You don't play by the rules, do you?" Soujiro sounded highly amused by this.

"You are the one who has murdered many people, Soujiro," Kenshin said, quietly. "Which rules do you propose to play by? Those of man? Because it's humanity's rules that I live by. Killing is wrong."

"I see. So where are you headed?"

"I'm going to deal with a problem." Kenshin said, jaw set, arms at his sides -- had his sword been on his belt and not hidden under his coat, he'd have had one hand on the hilt of the sakabatou.

"Ooh, an enemy?" Soujiro said, "This might be interesting. I think I'll tag along after you."

"No." He said, somewhat startled by Soujiro's decision.

"Stop me, then. Right here, right now." Soujiro's voice held a great deal of amusement in it. "Is this an Immortal enemy or a human enemy?"

"He's not an enemy, he's just a problem." Kenshin said, "And he's human. And you may not come."

"So stop me." Soujiro shrugged.

Kenshin fell silent, mulling over the issue. Soujiro Seta -- his heart had broken for the boy, ages ago. Souji had been so terribly damaged to begin with, and then Shishio had just completed destroying anything human in the child. Or -- almost anything human. There had been something there, too, buried deep within his soul, and it had come out in their second fight. He'd thought perhaps the boy had a chance at finding himself.

He glower turned to a frown and and glanced sideways at Soujiro, who had his hands in his pockets and whose stance was utterly relaxed. He didn't look like a man walking beside a mortal enemy. Soujiro glanced upwards, at the sky and Kenshin followed his gaze -- the storm had broken, and puffy clouds scudded low under beautiful blue. It was a nice day, really.

Were they enemies? Well, if Soujiro went after MacLeod, he was. But otherwise, their history was long past and best buried. And anyway, he'd reached Soujiro's heart once -- maybe he could do it again.

"Very well," Kenshin said, with grace. He stopped at a corner, "Accompany me, then."

Soujiro seemed startled, spluttered in surprise, and then said, "But ..."

"Soujiro," Kenshin said, seriously, "I could use some help with this, to tell the truth. The issue is that my niece had a boyfriend who tried to kill her ..."

"Niece?"

Kenshin ignored that question. "... and I'm taking it a bit personally, I am."

Soujiro blinked. "And you want me to come along."

Kenshin gave Soujiro a sunny smile over one shoulder. The look of surprise on Soujiro's face at his abrupt change of heart made that smile almost genuine. If Souji could be so surprised, perhaps he was not the automaton he'd once been. "Well, I believe you did invite yourself."

"Your ... niece."

Kenshin, hands in the pockets of his duster, crossed at the green light. He explained as he walked, "Heather Sagara is a descendent of Sanosuke, Soujiro. Do you remember Sanosuke?"

"Yeah. He was your best friend. Tall guy. Loyal to you like a big dog."

"I have sworn to protect his family, Soujiro." Kenshin said, very seriously. "I'm worried that Shark will try again, because she doubtless has information on him that the authorities could use -- even if he did not murder me as they both believed."

"What's your plan -- beat the snot out of the bastard?"

"No." Kenshin said, mildly. He paused -- a familiar woman was playing a guitar across the street, under the shade of a tree. "I won't need to."

Soujiro followed Kenshin's gaze and commented on the busker, "She's good."

"One of the most amazing things about the modern world is the music, don't you think?" Kenshin stood with his arms folded, watching the woman. "It's everywhere, free for the listening. It can be recorded and played later -- or broadcast across an entire world, for everyone to hear. They do not appreciate the music, now, or how know how important it once was, but I do. I remember when music was rare and special, when it could not be recorded for later."

"I hadn't thought of that," Soujiro said. "You're right. Once again, you open my eyes, Kenshin-san."

"Now you mock me," Kenshin said, but a faint smile. Souji had a sense of humor. Who would have guessed? He waited for a break in traffic and then hurried across the road to the woman.

She finished the song -- a country western ballad -- before saying, "Kenshin -- who's your friend?"

"Soujiro Seta." Kenshin introduced him as he dropped a five dollar bill in her hat. "Carla, I wish to thank you for your help finding my niece."

"You found her? Good. How is she?"

"She is in the hospital." Kenshin said, "Shark tried to kill her. Do you know where he is?"

Carla paused, and peered at him with an intense frown. "You're not going to go off the guy or something? Because he's a slimy bastard but I won't have any part in murder."

Kenshin wondered if any of his true feelings towards the guy were visible on his face. He didn't think so -- Carla was just being cautious. "No, Carla, I will not kill him. I just want to track him down for the police."

"Right." She eyed first him, and then Soujiro. Kenshin wondered what she made of Soujiro -- the man stood with arms folded, aloof, little expression on his face. At least he wasn't wearing a stupid smile. "Try Fifth and Iron. He's been selling hot stereos out of his car there."

Soujiro dropped several dollar bills into her hat as well. "Thank you, ma'am."

Kenshin commented, as they walked away, "That was kind of you, it was."

Soujiro said without much emphasis, "I've been there -- living on the bare margins of society. I'm not evil, you know."

"No. You're not." Kenshin agreed. Then he pointed out, "But taking the head of a good man would be an evil act."

Soujiro tried to explain, "It's us versus them, Himura. You're a fool to think that it isn't. I intend to be the last Immortal left standing, at the end of the Game. Because otherwise, I'll be dead."

"There's a third alternative there, there is," Kenshin said, "And that is that we not kill each other."

"You are such an idealist." Soujiro shook his head in disgust.

Kenshin gave him a sunny smile, "Why, I thank you, Soujiro-san, I do. That's a genuine compliment."

Fifth and Iron was about a mile away. Kenshin surveyed the intersection and spotted a battered old sedan with Shark sitting on the hood with his back to them. He was talking to a pair of teenage boys who looked rough and tough and were probably not upstanding citizens, Kenshin pointed him out. "You wanted to help? Skirt around to his left side, please. I'll take his right."

"Watch the little gang-bangers," Soujiro said, sounded a little amused. "Sometimes they have teeth. Yakuza are the same everywhere."

"The one on the right has a gun, he does." Kenshin said, mildly. "It's tucked in his belt."

"How can you tell from here?" Soujiro said, with some surprise.

"I'm not that good. I saw him the day before yesterday, I did, when Richie and I were looking for Shark." Kenshin explained. "He had a bulge under his shirt and he was resting his hand on it. His ki felt brash. I will assume he has a gun still; that would seem prudent."

Kenshin paused, then added, "And I know Shark has a weapon. Large caliber, it made a pretty big hole in me, according to Richie and Mac."

"You did not observe this hole?" Soujiro was amused. "How dead were you?"

"All the way dead, Soujiro-san. And MacLeod did not take my head when he could have." Kenshin said, as they walked up the trash-strewn street.

"You must be losing your touch." Soujiro laughed. "You got shot by a punk kid? What happened to the Battousai who could beat me at my best?"

"I chose not to dodge." Kenshin said, unruffled. They were getting close to Shark, who still hadn't turned around. Kenshin made a gesture to Soujiro, directing him left, on the street side of the battered, primer-grey car. Kenshin approached on the right.

Shark was no warrior. Kenshin got within three feet of him, behind him, and stood quietly, hands in the pockets of his duster, waiting to be noticed. The two young gang members were more alert than Shark, and had noticed him when he was twenty feet away -- probably because when Soujiro drifted out into the middle of the street to flank Shark on the other side of the car, it made them both look obviously predatory. They fell silent and stared at him. Kenshin thought they looked like a pair of junkyard dogs, hackles raising, trying to figure out if they should bark.

"... what?" Shark said, realizing his companions were staring over his shoulder.

"Dude, there's some fucker behind you." The boy who Kenshin had identified as likely having a gun said.

"Huh?" Shark still didn't look behind him. Kenshin fought the urge to laugh with black amusement; the man was really very stupid.

Kenshin rolled his eyes, reached out, and tapped Shark on the shoulder. Shark twisted around in surprise.

"Hello. I believe we were having a discussion the other day that was unfortunately interrupted, I do. Shall we continue?" Kenshin's smile was brilliant.

"You're ..." Shark stared. "You're dead! I killed you"

He bolted -- and made it two strides, where he ran full force into Soujiro's unmoving chest. Souji hadn't been there a second ago. Shark bounced off and landed on his butt in the gutter, and Soujiro said, with a grin that made him suddenly look very familiar to Kenshin, "Were you leaving? How very rude."

Kenshin glanced at the gang members -- who were grinning in equal amusement. Apparently, they were not friends of Shark. Gun boy said, "Hey Shark, this the guy you said you killed? He looks pretty fucking alive to me."

"I shot him in the chest! I swear!" Shark scrambled backwards until he bumped into Gun Boy's legs.

"You're such a loser, Shark." Gun Boy stepped free of Shark, then walked away with a dismissive wave of one hand. "C'mon, Freddie. Let's go."

"You've got to save me ..." Shark said, trying to scramble after them. Kenshin unsheathed his sword and tapped Shark on the nose with the tip. Shark froze on his hands and knees, went cross-eyed, then bawled, "Please! He's going to kill me!"

"Like I care!" Gun Boy called over his shoulder. He saw the sword and said, "Woah! Big knife, dude! I need to get me one of those!"

"Appealing young man," Soujiro laughed.

Shark made a sudden move towards the pocket of his leather jacket. Kenshin wrapped him hard on the knuckles with the sword. "Do not try it, Mister Shark. I have little desire to be shot again."

Shark stuck his bruised knuckles into his mouth and stared up at Kenshin. Kenshin realized the man had tears in his eyes.

Kenshin let his eyes go gold, let the rage surface, gave his carefully checked temper just a little bit of a loose rein. "Do you have any idea what I am?"

The man recoiled. Gibbered something incoherent.

"You can't kill me with a gun," Kenshin growled. "You couldn't kill me if you tried. You hurt someone I care about. I am pissed."

There was a sudden urine scent, accompanied by a wet stain on the front of Shark's trousers. In a panic, with a howl of fear, he grabbed for the gun in his pocket.

Kenshin smacked Shark's hand with the sword, hard enough that bones broke and blood sprayed. Shark howled and doubled over around his hand. Then, with surgical precision, Kenshin flipped the sword upside down and cut the fabric of the man's jacket so that the gun tumbled out of the man's pocket. He then bent over, picked the gun up, emptied the bullets out of the clip and chamber, one-handed, then tossed the gun into the air.

With impossible speed he sliced the sakabatou through the air and through the gun. Two pieces hit he ground with twin clatters.

Shark whimpered.

"Touch Heather and we'll meet again." Kenshin paused, then said, in a slow, menacing voice, "You will do exactly what I say or we'll meet again. You will get in your car now, you will drive to the nearest police station, and you will turn yourself in. You will confess to every crime you have committed since you became an adult, excepting those that directly involve my niece. Do you understand?"

A sob. It sort've sounded like, "Y-y-yes."

"Good. Do this and you will not need to fear me. Go."

Shark scrambled to his feet, darted around Soujiro, and bolted for the driver's side door. He peeled rubber getting away.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're one scary bastard, Kenshin?" Soujiro said, with amusement. He was grinning. "Thank you for the entertainment. I had wondered if the Battousai still lived along with Kenshin Himura."

Kenshin wasn't smiling at all. He just looked at Soujiro for a moment, then pocketed the bullets from the gun and headed back in the general direction of his hotel room.