Blurbs: In the bloom of Cherry Blossom under the sun of spring, Seta Soujirou escorts a child to the Kamiya Dojo, life is about to get very interesting, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and subsequent characters belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki. Steal my characters without my permission and die

Timeline: Spring, 1882—Meiji year 13; PostJinchuu (No, I don't know when the Meiji year starts or whatnot, this is just estimated through the birth dates)

Beta: Khori Bannefin and Bloodedwyngs

05: Breaking Surface

He grinned mischievously at her, earning a grumble as she picked herself out of the pond. "You've gotten slow, been slacking when I'm off on business?"

"Been busy." She retorted. "You need a new accountant, 'cause the one you have now is either seriously overworked or sloppy—it's an effort just to make out what they've written on the report and I end up re-doing the whole thing off the accounts myself."

He laughed, "What would I do without you?"

"Drown in paperwork. But you're right; I've been slacking in my training." She wrung her wet sleeves.

"And since you admit it yourself, shall we think up your punishment?"

"No, we can't." She disagreed mildly. "You've got more paperwork to work through."

"Damn."

His tone made her smile.

It was barely dawn when Yahiko stumbled to open the dojo's gate, blinking awake when he found Kaoru and Keiji on the other side, the boy looking as if he had been running and his sensei in gi and hakama.

"Do you always go running this early, Kaoru?" he asked, yawning when he loped alongside them, lazily greeting Soujirou who had been awakened when Yahiko stumbled for the gate.

"I used to, just starting again. I can't believe how out of shape I am," she answered, mild disgust in her voice even as she smiled and nodded at her guest. "I'm sorry about having to wake the two of you up so early; I must have accidentally locked the gate. But since you're both awake, join us in the dojo, Yahiko, Soujirou."

Yahiko and Soujirou raised their eyebrows and shrugged at each other, following the mother and son and wondering what she was going to do next. It had surprised them both when Saitou didn't as much as allude about Soujirou's status as a wanted man yesterday. Not only that, he had said something and she had laughed—leaving the rest of them to wonder just what it was about.

Kaoru must have noticed, because she chuckled at them. "For the sake of satisfying your curiosity."

They blinked at her.

"Okaa-sama is going to test Keiji today," the child chirped brightly. "If Keiji is ready the training can begin!" Then he ran off to retrieve his shinai.

Kaoru shook her head and sighed, "I wonder if he knows that childish act isn't helping the case?"

Yahiko grinned, "He's trying, Kaoru, cut him some slack."

"He loves you very much." Soujirou added, "And it's probably us that makes him so guarded."

A sad smile was their answer; honest with them in turn of their honesty. "It wasn't that," she said gently, "Sometimes I wonder if I would feel better if he blames me for my decisions and weaknesses. I am not a good mother."

"Keiji-kun thinks otherwise. You're the world for him." Soujirou argued quietly and Yahiko nodded in firm support of his statement. "I am… envious. I don't remember much of my mother." He added with even less volume, more to himself rather than to anyone else, but Kaoru and Yahiko both had sharp ears.

"Didn't have much of a family, did you?" Yahiko began bluntly. If Kaoru was willing to make that gamble, Yahiko will do his best to assist her. Soujirou's kicked-puppy-ness was beginning to bother him greatly. It reminded him too much of himself, until he had given up on waiting and started barking instead.

"Well," the only family I knew of beside Shishio-san and Yumi-nee tried to kill me. "You can say that."

"Why are you always smiling?" the question took Soujirou off-balance, and he almost tripped over his own feet. "I can tell that you always smile when you want to do something else instead. Fox-smile isn't something I'm unfamiliar with."

Yahiko blinked at his sensei before turning his attention to Soujirou again. "It's like something you do to defend yourself," he added slowly, puzzlement in his tone. It surprised Soujirou that the young boy had seemed familiar with the concept.

Soujirou looked down firmly at the ground, forcing his feet to follow the shihandai. She and her son were both gifted with amazing insight, and for a moment he irrationally wondered if they were some sort of lie detectors.

For that matter, just how will he answer that question, anyway?

"Keiji is taking too long. I'll go see if he needs any help finding his way." Yahiko commented as he casually split way from them.

The question that had been thrown at him was actually a very open one, to which Soujirou could answer almost anything without sounding too weird. The woman gave him a lot of space, and the option whether he wanted to say anything at all.

The really weird thing was that he wanted to confide to her, something that he had never felt before.

"Keiji and Yahiko probably found the straw dummies and took their time taking it out."

Was this planned, even? He remembered that Himura-san had talked about the woman that had taken him in, and wondered at the woman with the same name, who obviously knew Himura-san, who was at once so different and so similar.

Nevertheless, he now knew just why Himura-san admires her so much.

He wanted to tell her, though, wanted her to know, just needing someone to listen.

"Smiling… is what I always did when I knew they were going to hurt me," he said in a very small voice, almost a whisper, but he knew she heard. "They didn't do so much to hurt me if I'm smiling."

To his surprise, she nodded instead of being puzzled. "To them, there's no fun in hurting something that refuses to fold to bad treatment." Her voice was gentle and soothing and held no judgement. There was something in this woman that did not allow her to treat harshly, as if to do so would be against her very nature.

That was enough and he folded.

"There was a child," he began. "A child outside marriage, between a rich rice merchant and a lone, poor woman. When the child was very young, the mother died, and the father took the child into his family. He declared that the child was there to stay and he was to be treated well.

"The child was thus treated civilly, but with grudging politeness and displeased distance. When the rice merchant died, the family felt it no longer necessary to maintain their promise. They beat the child for their amusement and made him work like a slave."

Soujirou took a shaky breath, looking at the ground. "Eventually, one day the child smiled after they had beaten him to the ground, and kept the smile as he aggravated them further. But there was something lacking in the rest of the beating. Since then, the child found they hurt him less if they could not make him lose that smile, and thus I keep on smiling."

Kaoru absently wondered if he noticed his slip on his reference of himself as the third party. But she kept her silence—this was his story.

"One day, when they left the child to move the rice into a warehouse, there was screaming from the street; curious, the child left his task and peered around to find the cause of the screaming."

Soujirou thought he might be hyperventilating; it was so hard to breath. But he plodded on. "He found… that a bandaged man burned all over was killing some policemen. He saw me. I thought he was going to kill me too—and out of habit the child began smiling. The smile seemed to have both confused and amused the bandaged man.

"In the end the bandaged man agreed to let the child live, if the child got him bandages and food and a place to hide. So the child did, and hid him in the warehouse—there was little risk, the family rarely checked the warehouse since they had the child doing all the chores.

"During that time when the bandaged man was hiding inside the warehouse, once again the child was beaten by the family, and he asked why the child wasn't complaining. The child explained to him that he wasn't always like that—that at first he gets angry and cries and screams, until he realized he starts smiling instead, because there was nothing else left to do. As long as he smiles he can take anything, and perhaps it was my own fault for being born in the wrong arrangement. The bandaged man told the boy that he was wrong—that it was because he was weak. He told him that 'The strong survive, and the weak die', and gave the child his wakizashi(1). He said it was as a payment for staying in the warehouse.

"Then the family discovered the missing bandages."

Soujirou took a tremulous breath, trying to force air into unwilling lungs. "That night, the child was planning to return the wakizashi because he didn't know what to do with it—and he didn't think that he would ever be able to be strong.

"Before he could, the younger sons of the family found him, and started beating him up. When I was so badly beaten I could barely move, I heard that they were planning to kill me—and all I could think was for someone to save me. Someone, anyone.

"The child ran to the wakizashi he had hidden underneath the house, and one of the younger sons crawled down to follow him. He found the child sitting underneath the house holding the wakizashi by the tsuka(2). He reached forward to take the wakizashi from me, but he made a mistake—he pulled at the wakizashi by the saya(3), and the blade slid free with me still hanging on to the tsuba—and I killed him."

He choked, belatedly realizing that he had been switching between 'the child' and 'I', but he forced himself to go on. After this she would want him to go, she wouldn't want him to stay anywhere near Keiji.

"Then I killed the rest of them. After that, I followed Shishio-san—there was nowhere else to go, after all. I became the first of JupponGatana, and I killed upon his command. Whoever it was that he told me to, I would kill."

Kaoru forced herself to keep her hands relaxed, and not reflexively clenching and loosening, cautious that she might frighten him.

"Soujirou," she began when he fell silent after his tale, resolutely staring at the ground. "I think from what I heard you were much less of a demon, much more a frightened child. In your circumstances, I might have done the same thing—what right have I to judge?"

The look in his eyes when he raised his head was enough to break her heart. He was waiting for her to push him away in revulsion.

"Would you listen to me?" He nodded slowly, and she continued. "Human's first instinct is the same as an animal, and that is to survive—cornered animals are vicious. I admit that you might have been a little carried away, but do you think I will fault you for defending yourself when they cornered you with as much regard they give to a barn rat?"

He averted his eyes, and bit his lips, almost unwilling to hear her defend him. "Shishio-san asked me if I cried, at the end."

"Did you?"

The question seemed to have taken him aback. "I…"

"Don't know? It doesn't matter whether you did or did not." She continued calmly. "Why would you think that I would think less of you for trying to survive? You said you murdered your family, I rather think that what you did was self-defence. It might be true that you didn't have to kill all of them, but I suppose you had had to have been keeping a bit of a grudge—not that I condone wanton killing, you understand, but when it comes down to it, there's always risks of the survivors trying to stab you from the back. Anyway, I wasn't there, so I couldn't judge."

His head whipped back to stare at her. "I continued killing after that, under his order, and sometimes..." He stated in a low whisper, desolate, as if a cold had settled into his bones with his admission. Kaoru understood what he meant; he had killed a few even without order, or necessity.

She couldn't help but smile.

"Do you still think that Shishio is right? If a man offends you, would you draw a sword and kill him without regard?"

A rather horrified look answered her.

"What Shishio said, that the strong survive and the weak die, is what we call the Law of Wild Anarchy—predator and prey. Humans think that they have been civilized enough to move away from it, but apparently that is not true." Kaoru commented absently. "In fact, by trying to make themselves civilized humans strive to be different from other animals so much that they set expectations upon themselves, which they are constantly falling short of. Therefore, while Shishio Makoto isn't wrong, in a way, humanity should know better than that. Considering that they were the ones that imposed upon themselves that they shouldn't be the same as their wilder counterparts, that they should be governed by reason and compassion. They should know better, but there's no denying that most of the time they don't.

"Your childhood is in a way a very good proof of what Shishio taught you, I can see why you believed him. But you doubted, all the while—because a part of you still hoped otherwise. Now, I don't know the details of your fight with Kenshin, but I think this is precisely the crack he used to drive you to distraction during your fight."

Soujirou nodded with a rather wry twist to his lips.

"While I agree that life is precious, and no one should ever kill wantonly, I am always of the opinion that this world would be a better place if people were more willing to forgive. You found your choice and you took a path where you didn't have to kill anymore, and wouldn't. That is enough for me. As to those you had killed, it is up to you to seek your peace. I am not the one who you have to ask for forgiveness. The only thing I can tell you is that you can live, and you will be welcome here. And if I accepted Kenshin, I could always accept you."

Kenshin too hadn't know, hadn't know that there were other ways but to kill—if nothing else, they all owe Tomoe that she had shown him the path.

"Is it?"

She tilted her head, wanting to hear him say it out loud.

"To live?"

She smiled, "In the beginning, it is all that we may, in fact, do. We can live, of course. It is alright to be happy, because that indeed is within our right when we are born." She waved a slender hand to illustrate her point. "Dying is easy, Seta Soujirou, therefore death is never a proper atonement. One cannot change the past, or live in it. One can only look forward, and let the past be a lesson they don't forget. When you die, it's over—an easy way to get out of prolonged retribution."

He laughed, wavering, uncertain and almost under his breath—but it was a start.

She might have said more, but Keiji and Yahiko took that moment to enter the dojo, breathing hard from extricating the straw dummy that they had put in the yard right outside the dojo. But it didn't matter, as Soujirou's attention had turned inward, turning over her words.

Not a bad timing, he needed to think anyway, and they have time. Kenshin really wouldn't be back for a couple more days, as there had been a transport breakdown on the path he and Sano had to take to came back to Tokyo.

Before that, she would make Seta Soujirou either a permanent resident of the dojo, or a man ready to live again. Here, he will find himself, if she had anything to do about it.

One cannot change the past, or live in it. Therefore one can only look forward.

She did not say anything she did not mean. But how could she mean it? How could she look at him, know that not only until lately does he regret the lives he ended so brazenly, and yet, feel no hatred for it? Did it really not matter to her?

She could not forgive him; that he understood, because forgiveness wasn't hers to give. Unless she was of relation to anyone he had killed, it wasn't her right to say whether he was forgiven or not.

He had followed Shishio-san because he didn't have anyone else to follow. He had followed Shishio-san's orders to kill this and that person because he didn't know what else to do. It wasn't until Himura-san that he learned that there might be choices. It wasn't until just now, with Kamiya-san, that he understood the meaning of choices.

When Shishio-san threatened him he had chose to survive, and thus this lead to him hiding Shishio-san in the warehouse and obtaining the wakizashi. When his guardians decided to kill him, he had again chose to survive, and in consequence they died by his hands. He had chosen to follow Shishio-san; he had chosen to believe Himura-san. In the end he had desired not to kill again, and this was the only thing Kamiya-san believed was of any import.

He had to search for his own answer, but maybe Kamiya-san could help him along with that.

He wanted to stay here, and repay the trust Keiji-kun and Kamiya-san had given him with all that he has. He wondered about the likelihood of that thought.

In the meanwhile, Keiji-kun and Kamiya-san was sizing each other across the mat, all playfulness seemingly burned away from both. Now that he was free to pay attention, Soujirou leaned forward, wishing to gauge both combatants' skills.

Yahiko was quite taken aback by the tiger-bright intensity that Keiji emanated as he stood poised with his shinai, waiting for opportunity. His sensei's posture was relaxed, but he knew that she was paying utmost attention.

Caution was ingrained in Keiji's posture and the watchful way he regarded both his opponent and the surrounding. Hours of long practice set in the way he kept his grip on his shinai, not too tight, just enough to keep the blade steady.

Then Kaoru inclined her head, and like it was a signal he had been waiting for, Keiji began to move. Children were fast, that Yahiko knew—he exploited that fact many number of times himself—but they were also generally clumsy, more enthusiastic than actually skilful—like him—but Keiji's movements were fast and measured, smooth like a cat moving in for the kill.

Was it only long hours of voluntary practice, he wondered, or the difference between natural talent? Kaoru had been reluctant to discuss it, but she had conceded that natural talent did play a big part in differentiating how far a person could go in swordsmanship, as well as hard work. Yahiko knew he wasn't bad on the talent department, but he was too impatient and too often underestimating the importance of slow, careful steps. Keiji didn't have that flaw; the thousand swings voluntary practice Yahiko saw him doing yesterday attested to that—and Soujirou had affirmed that even on the road he kept up with the practice, forcing himself through the routine everyday.

Yahiko envied that patient dedication.

What does it feel like, to hone oneself into that edge of a blade until nothing else can be seen but that glinting surface?

Kaoru parried the blow almost lazily, barely stirring from her position. Keiji darted out of range and wove in again with tenacity, eyes bright and almost amber. In between two overhead strikes he found a window of opportunity and thrust low and up, forcing his mother to spin out of the way. But as she spun, she turned and slammed her shinai down in a heavy strike that her son barely managed to block.

"Good, good." She exclaimed in satisfaction as they separated and the boy skidded back a few steps. "You learned well enough to find that flaw in the defence, but you must remember that your opponent won't be a block of wood."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." And off he went again with renewed vigour. Keiji's movements were very basic, but well thought and well executed. Kaoru, too, kept her reactions basic; defence, parry, counter, all defensive, nothing fancy, just effective.

Yahiko wondered where the skill she displayed had gone when they needed it in that turbulent year. Did she somehow manage to de-train herself as a reaction to whatever happened before she met Kenshin, and her coming to terms with the past the reason why it was all returning to her?

It was not something that could be asked out loud. Which is why Yahiko would never voice his thoughts. Nevertheless, he wondered.

Whenever Yahiko went to a duel, more often than not he went in with a flurry of strikes trying to undermine his opponent with sheer surprise—and maybe slot in one or two imitations of Kenshin's Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, though lately he had given up on that. Kaoru told him that he needed to think more, that techniques were only effective if he knew when and where to utilize them, not just to use them blindly.

Keiji would be an excellent swordsman, and Yahiko resolved to work even harder so that he could at least keep up. It wouldn't be long, in the end, before the child equals him; Yahiko might be young, but he knew limitations, and the smoothness in Keiji's manoeuvres was something he had yet to attain, and might be too late to ever attain.

Kaoru had named him her successor, and Yahiko would be damned before he disappoints her.

Breakfast was late, but good. Despite Soujirou's statement of not being a good cook, he was better than the rest of the house—Keiji-kun showed promise to be a good chef, but he was too young to try cooking yet. Kamiya-san teased both Yahiko and Soujirou through it all, making them both blushed and flushed from laughter.

It was comfortable, and Soujirou felt like he had been there forever; teasing, being teased, laughing and smiling. It was a very warm, very good place to live in, and he wanted very much to stay there, with people who were rapidly becoming the family he never had.

"Then stay," Kamiya-san's warm, melodic voice washed over him—he didn't even question just how did she know what he was thinking anymore. "This is my house, and I have the final say. I cannot stop you if you want to go, but be assured that you will always be welcome here."

"Can I?" Soujirou asked, almost childlike. "I want to stay."

"Sure you can!" Yahiko bellowed after swallowing his breakfast. "I mean, look who else she adopts! One ex-hitokiri, one ex-pickpocket, one ex-gangster and one ex-opium maker; you'll fit right in with no problem, Soujirou!"

Keiji-kun giggled that glass-bell tinkle, "Stay; Keiji will be sad if Sou-nii goes."

Soujirou lowered his head and smiled sincerely, trying to hold back tears. "Then thank you very much for having me." Keiji-kun squealed and rushed over to hug him, toppling them both, laughing, to the floor. Yahiko grinned at them and patted Soujirou's shoulder, all animosity forgotten.

Kamiya-san smiled indulgently at them all.

"Um, so, Keiji-kun… this means your family name is Kamiya, isn't it?" Soujirou had been puzzled about the child's reluctance to give out his family name all the way through the journey, and in that lazy evening, with the slight breeze playfully ruffling about them and a field broom in his hands, he had to ask.

Keiji straightened from the pose he had tucked himself into to inspect a dandelion. Soujirou was about to take his lack of response as an affirmation when the boy answered. "Yoshino."

Soujirou blinked. "Huh?" Yoshino? But his mother was… Behind them, Yahiko stopped his progress of mopping the floor and perked his ears to listen.

"My mother's house is Kamiya, but my father's name is Yoshino Kazuomi." Keiji straightened, hands smoothing his hakama and cleaning invisible dirt and dust off it. "They're both the sole inheritors of their houses, and they both have responsibilities to it. So do I."

Soujirou blinked, his face cast in confusion. Yahiko, though, understood the importance of name, heritage, and the burden that goes with it.

In silence they both returned to their task, mulling over the little boy's words.

Kaoru, Yahiko thought with an admiration he would never admit to anyone else, was good. It didn't take longer than a couple of days before Soujirou and Keiji were running chores alongside him, chatting about everything and nothing, working on their swordsmanship, and teasing each other with an ease that surprised both him and Soujirou. In the midst of all the activities Yahiko had almost forgotten a very important thing.

Kenshin and Sano were late, a week late, in fact, and it was beginning to worry him. Kaoru's eyes darted to the gate sometimes, but she always quite firmly turned her attention elsewhere. Her dedication to trust Kenshin was almost boggling, and he didn't know anyone who would have fought themselves like that, just to be able to say truthfully that they had trusted someone to be able to take care of their own selves.

Kenshin was an idiot; Yahiko knew, finally, just why does Hiko called his only student 'stupid' all the time. Oh, he was brilliant on the battlefield, he wasn't that thick either, but when it came to simpler life, he had as much clue as a brick.

"Is something wrong, Yahiko?" Yahiko started out of his musings at Soujirou's voice, finding out that he had stopped moving in the middle of sweeping the engawa. The young man was looking at him questioningly, comfortable as he split wood for the bathhouse.

Soujirou and he were, in a way, alike. The difference lay in their choice of defensive reaction—Soujirou draws himself in, pasting on a smiling mask until he forgot himself while Yahiko lashes outward, a prickly hedge dog. Well, sans the spells of arrogant ego-trips Yahiko frequently found himself falling into.

Yahiko shrugged, "Kenshin and Sano are late."

"Himura-san is?" Soujirou's eyes widened.

"There was a flood on their route." Yahiko went back to sweeping. "Kaoru said they might be late by a couple of days. But this is the fourth; I just hope nothing happened to them."

Soujirou didn't answer immediately, "I'm sure they're fine…"

Ah, but Soujirou didn't know about the deterioration of Kenshin's body, the result of too much abuse the man had put himself through pulling manoeuvres he shouldn't. Nevertheless, Yahiko didn't mention it out loud. If Kenshin wanted Soujirou to know, he didn't lack a mouth and a working voice box.

Someone knocked at the gate, and Yahiko strode over to open it while Soujirou retreated to the house. He blinked at the sight of a slightly smirking Saitou and his confused wife. "You don't usually come around at this hour."

"Brat." The wolf retorted with too much self-satisfaction for his own good. "Battousai and the Ahou had been spotted back in Tokyo; they will be here soon enough."

Yahiko blinked, then grinned as he led the pair into the Kamiya premises.

This promised to be good.

"—and the nerve! I should've—"

Kenshin sighed and tried to tune out Sanosuke's irritated grumbling. He was just as irritated, really, by the snob that had caused them more delay on top of the flood, and Sanosuke's incessant complaining merely compounded the slight headache behind his eyes, and the worry in his heart.

His lateness would have worried Kaoru-dono, and like anything, he hated having to worry her. He wasn't worth it in the first place, but he knew he would never convince her of that.

"—the insufferable, no good son of a—"

"Sano, shut up!" Sanosuke, Kenshin swore, was a very good friend, but sometimes it was just too tempting to throttle him. The young man hadn't grown very much from the cocky, brash teenager who had challenged him for revenge, and while at times he was thankful for it, other times it set his teeth on edge.

The brawler fell silent, stealing cautious looks at the slightly fuming ex-hitokiri walking alongside him. Sano was irritated beyond belief for being accosted by idiots, but Kenshin was cantankerous because he wanted very much to return home.

Home to Kaoru-dono.

His pace picked up at the idea, already picturing in his mind her beautiful smile, spreading slowly like a blooming flower, the lightening of her liquid eyes, and her warm voice, calling out to him.

Soon enough, the dojo came into view, and Kenshin wondered if he had shown some outward reaction to the sight when Sano chuckled, "Down, boy. There's still Yahiko in the dojo; wouldn't want to give a bad example."

The redhead fought down a blush. "This one doesn't know what you're talking about, Sano, that he doesn't."

Sano barked a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you'll believe it one day."

Kenshin didn't dignify that with an answer, and the gangster sniggered, folding his arms behind his head as they approached the quiet dojo.

Then he hesitated.

There were two unfamiliar ki inside the dojo, with addition to Kaoru-dono and Yahiko, and Kenshin frowned as he felt both the Wolf and his wife hanging around the yard. Something niggled at the back of his mind as he studied one of the unfamiliar ki. Someone he should know; different, but still someone familiar

Sanosuke had slowed, as well, and was slightly tensed as he took Kenshin's reaction as something being amiss. They approached the dojo's gate carefully, wary and ready to fight.

And when the door opened, the two unfamiliar ki stepping out, Kenshin gripped the sakabatou's hilt and Sano tightened his fist.

Kenshin's eyes widened as Seta Soujirou came into view.

"You?" Sano exclaimed, "Kisama! What the are you doing here?"

The Tenken's smile dropped off his face, and Kenshin blinked at the utter surprise plain on the young man's face. "I—"

But Sano wasn't listening anymore, charging forward with fighting intent.

"Sano! Wait—"

But the tall gangster didn't stop, and Tenken froze, eyes wide as he watched.

"No!"

All of a sudden, Tenken fell back and was being pushed behind a tiny child who shielded the young man with his own body, arms outstretched. Biting off a mild curse, Kenshin surged forward to knock Sanosuke off-course, but he was too late.

Luckily, Sano managed to stop right before he barrelled over the small child. Tenken had gathered his wits and was trying to pull the child back with him, but the boy wouldn't budge. "Don't hurt Sou-nii!"

They stared in amazement at the little boy, trembling in fear but with eyes wide open staring defiantly at them. Kenshin pulled Sanosuke back, and the gangster let himself fall out of fighting stance. A little boy with wide, liquid eyes, determination colouring them solid greyish brown.

"What's all this ruckus?"

Kaoru-dono.

Almost dazedly, Kenshin turned and found himself staring at the small woman… who was frowning with extreme displeasure at him and Sanosuke. Taken aback by the flash of ominous storm within her eyes, Kenshin stepped back a pace. "Kaoru-dono—"

"Okaa-sama!"

What?

"What?"

Kenshin and Sanosuke stared dumbly at the little boy that flung himself into Kaoru-dono's arms, still trembling. They watched, shell-shocked—Sano with a slack jaw—as Kaoru-dono went on her knees and rubbed her hands over the boy's back, making soothing noises.

"Kaoru-dono…?" Kenshin ventured tentatively.

"I didn't give you leave to threaten my guests, Sagara Sanosuke." She snapped. "And I certainly didn't give you leave to traumatize my son."

Her… son?

Kenshin felt the ground shake under him, and for a moment he waited for it to shatter.

"Ano… Jou-chan… since when d'you have a son?"

"Since a long time, Sagara." Her voice was clipped. "You just never think to ask."

And they didn't, did they? Kenshin felt like he was being punched in the guts. He knew for a long time that he didn't know much about her at all, but to know that someone else had known what he wanted so much to know abruptly made him feel like breaking ten years of non-killing vow.

He really didn't have a right to feel that way, but he couldn't really stop it either. He had wanted this woman for a damn long time, trying to convince himself that she was out of reach to find out that he was horrifically right.

But where was the man now? If he didn't do the right thing—

"Soujirou," Kaoru-dono stated slowly, looking at Sano in the way one tries to make imbeciles understand "was kind enough to escort my son safely to me when he became… separated from his guardian. For that, I'm in his debt. That means, Sano, if you try to harm him, you're going to deal… with me."

Sanosuke held up his hands in surrender and supplication. "Alright, alright! I was worried, you know, 'cause he was JupponGatana and all that—and hey! He's wanted by the government!"

"He was." Kaoru stated firmly. "There isn't a JupponGatana anymore, and Saitou is waiting to take you to the jail."

"He was." Kaoru stated firmly. "There isn't a JupponGatana anymore, and Saitou is waiting to take you to the jail."

The tall gangster yelped. "He what? But I thought—"

"Ahou."

Kenshin's narrowed eyes found that Saitou had come out to watch the ruckus. The man looked far too pleased for his own good.

"Well then, Kamiya-san." Saitou and his wife inclined their heads respectfully at her. "Thank you for such an entertainment. Regretfully, we must be going." And while his wife was polite enough to softly greet Kenshin and Sanosuke, the Wolf pivoted neatly on his heels and marched away, smoke trailing behind him.

Kenshin had a feeling that he was the butt of a joke.

"Kenshin?"

Her voice pulled him out of that disorienting feeling, and he turned back to her to find out that Soujirou, Sanosuke and her son had all filtered back into the dojo.

She smiled, still the smile that he had envisioned on the way back to the dojo, slowly unfurling like the petals of a flower.

It made his heart ache. He wanted so very badly to take her into his arms and kiss that smiling mouth.

"Okaerinasai, Kenshin."

Her voice and tone was the same too, warm, welcoming. Relieved that he was back, happy to have him around again. Utter bliss. Total, complete, and utter bliss.

Kenshin opened his mouth, but it was a while before his voice finally worked. "Tadaima."

All the while, she waited with understanding, her patience infinite.

Even if that was all he could have of her, at that moment in time Himura Kenshin knew that he was a very lucky man.

In the blossom haze

everything wavers;

(but) you are you (still).

"It wasn't a very nice thing to do."

Hajime turned his head to look at the woman walking beside him and smirked. "Oh, come off it. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the way he looked like his life just ended? Or the way that Ahou gapes like a beached fish?"

Tokio smacked his upper arm. "That's horrible!"

The Wolf turned back toward the road, still smirking. "The boy's father would have appreciated the irony."

"That in a gathering of so many dark pasts, the most normal person is the one they know the least of?"

He smiled appreciatively at her. "I wouldn't call her normal… When I call her a Tanuki(4), I wasn't being insulting."

"Oh?" His wife gave him a curious look. "You knew of her, before she became connected to Himura-san?"

"Indeed. Though I must say it was acquaintance by extension." He breathed deeply, inhaling the cigarette. "It was the boy's father. The senior Yoshino worked with the police for some cases, meaning occasionally we were partners. It was such a shame; he had quite the potential."

"He died?"

"When I was transferred to Yokohama for three years before Himura came to Tokyo. Apparently he was lost; there wasn't a body to bury." He paused, then added reflectively, "To think of it, I didn't know until now that he had any children, much less with his almost-sister."

"Why?"

He smiled, gentle and true. "Because you're worth everything, Himeccha(5). Simple as that."

A wave of anguish was building like a coiling dragon ready to spring. "I am not, I am not…"

"Smile for me."

The first butterfly of spring,

iridescent and fleeting

(but) eternal in memory.

Author Note:

-Whee, special treat—two attempts of Haiku

-The first Haiku, I think, is an indirect tribute of my convoluted mind to a song titled "Travelling to Taipei in Winter to see Rain", It's one of my all-time favs. Another one is "Project: Horned Owl" ending song, which I neither found the title nor the lyric for. Anyone has them?

-The end of this chapter always makes me feel a little melancholic. To think I'm the one who wrote this, I wonder if I'm a bit of a masochist.

-Kaoru might sounds like she's justifying murders, but that shouldn't have been the case. It seems that I put the idea across rather badly. What she was trying to say was that: if she demanded suffering of those who had inflicted them, does that make her any better compared to them? She would have been sinking to their level.

1 Wakizashi--short sword, blade between 12 and 24 inches (between 30 and 60 cm, with an average of 50 cm), similar to but shorter than a katana. The wakizashi is usually worn together with the katana by the samurai or swordsmen back in feudal Japan in which case the pair is then called Daisho.

2 Tsuka—handle of the sword.

3Saya—sheath of the sword.

4 Tanuki—Dictionary says this is a raccoon, but that's incorrect; another translation calls it a "Raccoon Dog", and I'm not sure how much more accurate that is, if any. Tanuki is a common fixture in Japanese Folklore; they reportedly have a single leaf on top of their head and delights in playing tricks on travellers along dark, lonely roads.

5 Himeccha—Corruption of "Hime-chan", meaning "Little Princess". Not proper Japanese, but hey, it's cute.