A/N – Kenshin takes his leave of Katsura after Toba Fushimi. Because I believe every Ruroken author should attempt this. The world needs more Katsura fic.

Disclaimer – I don't own Ruroken, any of the canon characters, settings or situations.

Toba Fushimi

At first victory was no more than a rumour, whispered reports trickling in from the field, carried by exhausted messengers on lathered mounts. As the hours passed and the light faded, Katsura waited patiently, his face flat and unreadable, nothing in his manner to show that the revolutionaries had gambled everything on this one, pivotal confrontation.

"I don't know how you can be so calm," Saigo Takamori growled, pacing back and forwards, back and forwards, his restless energy filling the small, stark meeting room. "When we are this close to everything we've ever worked for –"

On the other side of the room, Sakamoto Ryoma shook his head. "It does no good to exhaust yourself, Saigo. It is out of our hands now."

One burning glance was enough to convey just what Saigo thought of his compatriot's calm fatalism. But the sound of whispered, urgent discussions outside drew Katsura's attention away from Saigo's scowl; he turned his head as, with a discreet tap, the shoji screen was slid aside and the captain of his bodyguards entered the room. Uchiyo, unshaven and villainous, bowed, and then knelt down to whisper in Katsura's ear.

"He is here, sir."

Immediately, Katsura rose to his feet and, bowing, excused himself before following Uchiyo from the room.

Himura waited in the outer courtyard, a dark shadow in the night. The metallic smell of blood and acrid gunpowder were strong in the air, and as Katsura's eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight, he saw that the younger man's clothes were ripped and tattered, stained with mud and blood and worse. But for the first time in years, Himura seemed calm, almost, no longer taut and hyper-alert. Almost, it looked as though he is at peace –

"Forgive me, Katsura-san," Himura bowed, his usual grace dulled by exhaustion. "I have come straight from the battlefield."

Katsura's heart began to beat faster, swift and eager with anticipation. Himura was not wearing the daisho that had been his constant companions for nearly five years.

"We have prevailed, then?" he asked.

"The Bakufu's troops were routed," Himura said. "It is the beginning of the end." He looked straight at Katsura, his golden-brown eyes direct and steady, almost as an equal. "You have enough momentum to push the revolution through, now; there is no longer need for shadow killers."

There would always be need for shadow killers. The revolution was nearing its peak, and the restoration had only just begun; there were many more stages before the great work was complete. But Katsura did not attempt to dissuade Himura from leaving.

The bargain had been agreed between them years ago, in Otsu, with Tomoe's pale, still body a cold, impartial witness: Battousai would kill for them until the Ishin Shishi could emerge from the shadows and fight their war in the light. And then he would vanish, and no one would ever command his blade again. Not if Katsura had anything to do with it.

"Battousai has played his part," Katsura said. "You broke the Bakufu, Himura, laid the foundations; there are others, now, who will build on them."

Himura bowed again. "That is enough, then." And he turned, as if to vanish into the shadows once more.

All at once, Katsura could not let him go without one more thing.

"…Kenshin," he said, staying the assassin's departure. When he saw Himura pause, turn back, he fought to put all his unspoken cares into words. "If I have caused you harm in my ambitions, then I am sorry for it. But without you, none of this would have been possible." And then, because he could feel the shape of the future, he gave one last piece of advice to the young, naive boy he'd brought to Kyoto. "…Be careful, Himura. There are others, out there, who will seek to control you. And failing that, they will seek to kill you…"

After he was gone, a dark shadow vanished in the night, Katsura signalled to Uchiyo.

"Gather your most trusted men," he ordered. "You know what to do. Make sure there are no mistakes."

To his mind, it was not hypocrisy. Battousai was by far the more dangerous swordsman, but there was no malice in him, no ambition – Shishio was the one to be feared. Katsura was willing to allow Himura to live in the new era he had fought so hard to usher in, but some deep, instinctive part of him knew that for his vision of Meiji to prosper, Shishio must be destroyed.

Uchiyo could be relied on. He would see that the necessary work was done.

His mind busy calculating the Ishin Shishi's next steps, charting the progress of the restoration in the weeks, months and years to come, Katsura turned away from the dark night and headed back into the brightly-lit house.