"Himura," Aoshi Shinomori breathed, kneeling in his book-filled room as he would for meditation. Though the news he now had would put that peace out of his hands for hours. "The Kamiya dojo's resident rurouni... is Himura Kenshin."
"Hai, Okashira." Horns just a shadow in darker shadows, Han'nya, intelligence master of the Oniwabanshuu, inclined his head.
"Himura Battousai." Aoshi listened to the silence about them, the quiet that marked this austere portion of Kanryuu's otherwise elegant mansion above all others, before he allowed himself a cold smile. "Does anyone else know of this?"
A shift of shadow. "Information indicates that Inspector Uramura suspects, at least. There is an interesting... blandness... to recent reports by Tokyo Internal Security."
"Is there." Anticipation tingled like ice in his veins; Aoshi allowed it one moment of freedom, then crushed it under relentless discipline. "Your thoughts?"
"Guilt could be a motive," Han'nya reported neutrally. "Kamiya Koshijirou lost his life in the Seinan riots, working in the Security Sword Corps. Uramura was not his direct commander. If he had been, it is unlikely Kamiya-san would have been assigned the mission that ended his life. As it stands Kamiya Kaoru is left alone, the last of her name."
And the last to hold mastery over a dojo renowned for teaching samurai and citizens to fight well, and only in self-defense. A small eddy of calm in the torrents of greed and oppression that surged through Tokyo; a poor, quiet school, that had never aspired to have the best swordsmen, but only to teach its students to find the best within themselves. Imperials might raze the buildings tomorrow, and believe no one would miss it.
They would be wrong.
Who'd have thought one tiny dojo could be a shatter-point?
That was the term Okina had used in his training, years ago; a nexus of time and place and person where one change... might change everything.
And most people can't see it. Can't even imagine it. Aoshi suppressed a shake of his head. All you had to do was read the reports, and walk the streets. Crime faded around Kamiya's dojo.
She believes people can be better than they are. She lives it. And by chance or skill or the will of the Force, she's found the right people to start the rest of the community believing it too.
And with all of Yamato to choose from, the Demon of Kyoto had washed up there.
A living shatter-point. That sent a chill down Aoshi's spine, training or not. The only shatter-point of the Revolution to survive Meiji's governance.
Takasugi had died leading Choushuu's forces on the battlefield. Okita Souji had perished on a Dark Jedi's blade. Katsura had finally succumbed to the toxins breathed in his youth, failing and dying in an Imperial hospital; naturally or not, none dared say. The Oniwabanshuu's information network had gathered other stories, other lives; none of the Revolution's beating hearts remained.
Save one.
Hitokiri Battousai.
Katsura's blade. Katsura's dragon. Death to the Revolution's enemies; a demon even to those he protected. Change followed in his wake like flames... not all of it to Katsura's liking. A slight, quiet man armed as a samurai, shadow-skilled as an onmitsu, and following a sword-school never claimed by either side.
Hiten Mitsurugi. The Sword of the Heavens.
And I may win the chance to face it.
"Kamiya is also young," Han'nya noted. "And pretty. If one can look past the blue eyes."
Which most samurai wouldn't, of course. But Uramura... well, if Aoshi believed there was any good to be found in Meiji's policy of opening Yamato to the rest of the Empire, he would find it in folk like Uramura. The inspector loved his native world, yet also had a keen interest in the people and ideas that came in through the spaceport. Useful, in his line of work.
Yet it made the inspector's defense of Battousai all the more curious.
Himura is not simply a remnant of what we were, two decades ago, Aoshi thought. He is not just another lost ronin - not one trained to be of the administrators with blades who worked under the Tokugawa, nor even the rough warriors of the civil wars, who might pledge loyalty as they chose. He gave up his lightsaber...
Like Rei Isshinta, who legends claimed had shamed a war into ending by breaking his blade.
Rumors say Katsura gave the Shogunate better terms than they had any right to expect, after that.
As he himself knew was true. After all, Tokugawa Yoshinobu-
Well. The less thought of that, or his true purpose in serving as Kanryuu's security, the better. One never knew who might be using ki to pry. Especially when one was thinking about matters related to the Kamiya dojo.
So peaceful on the surface, and so ruthless to law within.
Oh, Kamiya Kaoru's influence stopped violent crime, surely. Theft, robbery, assault - all avoided her neighborhood like the plague. But when it came to paying what the Empire would claim as its fair share of taxes on certain goods... well, Sagara and Tsukioka were only the visible tip of the iceberg. "She's arranged the market for this morning?"
Han'nya nodded. "She tries not to keep to too regular a schedule, but the tell-tales are there, if you know where to look." A faint white glint, that might have been a smile. "Shall I acquire some spools of tensu kinu thread?"
"Pay for them," Aoshi stated. "You should be in plain view when Tsukioka arrives. An... innocent customer."
"The slow route, then?" A shrug of shadowy shoulders. "He informed us Takani survived."
"And Beshimi reported she was dead - and we both know he is not easily deceived," Aoshi said flatly. "We will not move until we are certain."
A slow nod. "Katsuhiro has a strong will. We can't be certain the compulsions will hold."
"Not for more than a few days, no." Aoshi's eyes narrowed. "But that is all we need."
"Will you allow him to die, Okashira?" An apologetic shift of shadowed shoulders. "Forgive my curiosity."
"It will be his choice," Aoshi said evenly. "To die, like a samurai... or live, like a ninja, and know what he doomed by his weakness."
Either way, we will see the true measure of Kamiya Kasshin... and the Hitokiri Battousai.
---------------
"Five? Two, maybe, but for that-"
"My Saezuri's still a little young to be watching the baby; if you could come over a few days, I'd take a copper off these sand-plums-"
"Oh, what a lovely blue, like autumn sky... how many spools do you have?"
Still blinking away pre-dawn sleepiness, Yahiko shook his head as the low-key bargaining went on, amazed at how fast a few dozen women and old men had turned this dusty back room of Kaoru's house into a tiny market. Not just for dyes and spices and various other odds and ends brought in by enterprising country-folk to their city relatives, but for help in patching leaky roofs, mending blaster-seared cloth, and looking after sick kin before the last caregiver in the family unit passed out from exhaustion. The kinds of things somebody - should have done for my 'Kaasan...
He scrubbed at itchy eyes - damn dust! - and shot a glare at Kaoru as she watched from a quiet corner. Her hands were busy with tools and thread-fine wires, still working on the same piece of circuitry she'd had out when he'd hit the futon last night. Did she get any sleep at all? Sheesh, girls... yeah, sure, Sano's an idiot, and Obi-Wan's gaijin, but Kenshin's old enough to look after both of them.
He wasn't worried. He wasn't. Kenshin knew about the curfew and the guard patrols, he'd probably just found someplace for everybody to lie low after they got Kenobi out of whatever mess Sanosuke had dragged him into, and they were just fine.
Yahiko swallowed a suspicious lump, probably left over from Kaoru's attempt at breakfast, and jerked his head at the bargaining matrons. "So what are they, all widows?" Not that that explained the older folks, but hey, hard luck happened.
Kaoru's lips tightened a little. "Not yet."
Yahiko snorted. "Oh, come on. Girls don't get somebody else up on their roofs if they've got a husband at home."
"They don't."
Say what? Yahiko gave her a skeptical look. "So what, they're all divorced?" Nobody left their wives high and dry with no clan around to help out. Not even to take off on pilgrimage. Risk your kids, your apprentices, the whole continued existence of your name? The rest of your family would kick you out, drown you, or otherwise get rid of the embarrassment.
"No. Not yet." Kaoru shrugged. "I guess you could call them temporary widows. At least they hope it's temporary," she added under her breath.
Temporary widows? But that meant- Yahiko stiffened. "You mean, their guys are out with-"
"Try not to ask, okay?" Kaoru gave him a serious look. "We've just got some people here talking. Nothing illegal about that."
Except that no few of the items people were talking about, and exchanging hard currency for, weren't supposed to be sold without the government taking a cut. Even a kid like him knew that.
Kaoru followed his gaze, and grabbed the scruff of his gi to drag him a little deeper into the shadows. "Tensu kinu," she nodded at the autumn-blue spools an elderly weaver was scooping into his carry-sack. "The Gekkeikan conglomerate harvests the moths on big forest plantations; they can afford to pay the tax and still make a profit. And they can produce it in those hundred-spool lots Governor Meiji made the lower legal limit. Ten wild-gatherers working together probably couldn't get that much." A flick of blue eyes toward another mat, where rough green stones were piled together. "The Empire doesn't like spirit offerings, but they're not outlawed. You just can't get the jade to carve yourself." A twitch of fingers, almost into fists, as she looked toward Dr. Gensai and a few others seriously poking and prodding at various roots and leaves. "And as for traditional medicine..." She closed her eyes; Yahiko could swear she was counting to ten. "Imperial medicine works, too. Their surgeons - they can do things we never could, before. But what good is it, if the people who need it can't afford it?"
Yahiko rolled his eyes. "So the Empire is wrong." Like I didn't know that.
"The Empire is broken," Kaoru said fiercely. "It started out broken, and it'll end the same way." Her fingers unclenched, and she looked lost. "But... if Kenshin's right... maybe the Republic was broken, too."
She's making my head hurt. "Just because they didn't have time to fix things way out here on the edge of the galaxy-"
"Exactly because of that." Kaoru blew out a slow, decisive breath. "If you don't have time to take care of the little things, of the - places that fall through the cracks, way out here - then none of the big things matter." She nodded toward the room. "How is this the way of Kamiya Kasshin?"
Say whaaat? Yahiko gaped like a fish, desperately trying to jump-start his brain. Morning and thinking just weren't meant to go together. "It's - um-" She's got to be kidding! Sword that protects, heck, there's nothing here to use a sword on...
Hang on a sec. Sword that "gives life". We're not doing it by protecting them, they could probably find some corner down by the docks to do this-
Some Yakuza corner, what am I thinking? And even if it wasn't Yakuza, anybody who let these people in to talk might up and turn them all in someday. You never know who you can trust.
Except - everybody trusts Kaoru.
And they can. 'Cause if the Empire catches her, they won't be looking for a few unpaid taxes. They'll take her away and execute her...
Yahiko tried not to shiver.
But nobody else knows that. They just know they can trust her.
"It's - helping people - look after themselves?" he tried.
Her grin lit up her eyes like sunlight. And just as suddenly twitched into a frown, as Kaoru cocked her head toward the front of the dojo. "Get Dr. Gensai. Megumi, too, if she's awake and you can keep her out of our visitors' sight. They're back."
Relief rushed over him, followed hard by gut-clenching worry. Back, good - Gensai? Oh, hell...
Yahiko wasn't quite sure how he got the doctor out of his bargaining session, though he sort of remembered some idiot babble about Sano, body cream mixed with venom ivy, and embarrassing locations the local nighthawks used for revenge. Jerk deserves it.
All that mattered was that sense of warm comfort emanating from Kaoru, and the rock-solid shadow that was Kenshin, as Yahiko dragged Gensai into the dojo's main room and they were all together and safe...
Then Yahiko's eyes fell on an all too familiar collar around Kenobi's neck, and he knew they weren't safe at all. "Kuso."
"Indeed." Gensai was white around the lips. "Himura-san..."
"One has made very sure the circuits were soaked in salt water, Gensai-isha. And has soaked it again, since our return." Kenshin put a dripping face-towel back into a steaming bowl, not smiling at all. "It is as safe as one can make it without aid, that it is."
"What kind of aid?" Kaoru asked dangerously.
Red hair dipped, apologetic. "The collars are made to need two sets of hands to disarm. In case of rescue."
"And your telekinetic control isn't fine enough?" Obi-Wan asked, casually as if he didn't have a bomb wired to his neck.
"It might be - but it has been years since one disarmed a collar. One would prefer not to risk it." Violet met Kaoru's gaze. "One suspects Yahiko-kun has more experience with these locks-"
"He's my student," Kaoru said fiercely. "This is my job."
Still sitting, Kenshin gave her a respectful bow, then removed various less-than-legal bits of wire and composite from his toolkit. "If Kaoru-dono permits... one will outline the steps first. Both must disarm at once. The collars are meant to be built with some leeway, in case of accident, but given who had this collar in his keeping, we should not trust to that; that we should not."
"In case of accident?" Obi-Wan muttered.
"Hmm..." A damp shrug. "Accidental shooting, accidental kidnapping, accidental homicide of slavers by relatives who feel the debt should not be repaid in this manner..."
A red-gold brow went up. "You have a rather wide definition of accident, my friend."
"Oro?"
"I think I admire it. In a way." The Jedi let out a slow breath. "Let's get this over with, if you would."
Sano's hand was an iron vise on his shoulder as Yahiko huddled in the corner with him and Gensai; close enough to see what was going on, far enough that Kenshin judged they wouldn't be injured if-
It's not going to happen. It's not!
For a while, it looked like nothing was going to happen. Kenshin just talked. And talked, and talked...
Pressure point right, twist, Yahiko found himself repeating silently, somehow familiar as the steps of a just-practiced kata. Pressure point up, hold for a three-count. Pressure point left, twist counter-clockwise, and hold, two, three, four...
The collar clicked open.
Kenshin let out a relieved breath, and helped Kaoru and Obi-Wan remove the deadly curve of metal. "One will set this in a secure corner of your storage building, hai, Kaoru-dono? It is safe, for now; and one would prefer not to try to remove the explosives without breakfast." Collar in hand, he slipped out of the room.
Obi-Wan simply sat there, regarding trembling hands as if they didn't belong to him. "Well. That hasn't happened in a long time."
"Kenobi-san, if you're not used to suffering shock when something like this happens, I'd sincerely hate to live your life." Snorting, Gensai moved in with tea whose steam carried a heavy load of hashima, sweetened with brown cane and dosed with a dash of powdered seaweed and salt. "Here. I'll hold this if you can't, but get it down. All of it."
Obi-Wan's nose wrinkled, but he sipped anyway. "He's very good, did you notice? Very subtle. I imagine we could all disarm those collars in our sleep, now." Another, deeper sip. "I would have loved to have met his teacher."
Sano stiffened. "Hold up. Are you saying Kenshin-?"
"He was reinforcing what he told me, so we could do it together," Kaoru stated, eyes sliding away, guilty. "I didn't know he could reach all of us."
"Some people just have impressive personalities, yes?" Lifting an edge of Obi-Wan's gi, Gensai stiffened. Bit back a curse. "Kenobi-san, unless someone desperately needs you, I think I'd better see to these in your room." He let fabric fall, gently. "I don't know what Megumi's been through, but if she sees this..."
"I understand." Obi-Wan raised his gaze to Kaoru, sober and tired. "To make a long story very short, Saigo may still carry a rather indiscriminate grudge against off-worlders, but we're fairly certain he does not have Katsuhiro."
"A grudge against off-worlders?" Kaoru's eyes widened.
"As I said, it's a long story." Kenobi's hand hovered near the side of his chest, where an ex-pickpocket's eyes could make out the hard line of a mini-computer under cloth.
Some kind of scanner? Yahiko thought. He didn't have that when they left.
Which meant whatever was on there could be important.
Stomping on his impatience, he waited until Sano started a stumbling explanation of last night to Kaoru, punctuated with hand-rowing motions, then snuck off down the hall.
"...know this stings, but sometimes, the local seawater..."
"Better - ah! Safe than sorry, yes..."
Making himself small and quiet, Yahiko settled down outside Kenobi's room to listen.
"Kurogasa." Cloth rustled as Gensai applied ointment and bandages. "I'm not familiar with the name."
"I suspect it's an alias," Obi-Wan said frankly. "I doubt someone with his... proclivities... could have survived under the Empire without one."
"He did this for fun." Loathing dripped from Gensai's voice.
"No. Not entirely." Obi-Wan's tone was spare, calculated. "He was looking for someone."
Silence. Yahiko tried not to fidget. That's - somebody moving, that beep's somebody getting data-
And that hiss of breath was one very shocked doctor. "What in the worlds..."
"You said you didn't know where to look for Kenobi Owen." There was an odd tightness in Obi-Wan's voice, that clutched at Yahiko's heart. "What if we were only looking for Owen?"
"A peasant?" Gensai's surprise rang through the walls. "But-"
"A redheaded man with some knowledge of the weaving trade, driven into the mountains by - off-world interference." Obi-Wan's voice was level. It sent a chill down Yahiko's spine. "A man who married a peasant woman, and raised a family with her, only to die with them, perhaps fifty to thirty years ago, in a... toxic accident." A sharp breath. "Except - not quite all of them died."
"Dear gods." Gensai settled back with a groan. "Forgive me for asking, but torturers are known to be liars-"
"It feels true." A shift of cloth, like spread hands. "It would certainly explain why I... saw... what I saw."
"Oh, no, no, no..."
"Please." A deliberate pause, as if someone curled and uncurled fingers that wanted to be fists. "He's in danger. I have to help him. You know where he is."
"I know," Gensai said evenly. "And I won't tell you." A slow sigh. "Not yet."
"Gensai-isha-"
"Yes. Healer. Don't you forget that. He's strong; possibly stronger than Kaoru-chan, I think, and she's one of the most powerful ki-users I've ever met. But parts of his soul are fragile."
"The Darkness-"
Gensai snorted. "Not every wound is caused by Darkness, Kenobi." He let out a slow breath, sighing away impatience. "Think. Think about what you've told me."
A long silence. "He would have been an orphan."
"Very likely," Gensai agreed. "Now. Consider an orphan in our world, old enough to have made his way however he had to, suddenly faced with an off-worlder who says he's family."
Yahiko could almost feel Kenobi's wince. "I imagine it wouldn't go well, no." A whisper of cotton, as if someone hugged themselves for warmth. "But he's in danger, Gensai. Terrible danger."
"He's been in danger for decades, Obi-Wan," Gensai said gently. "That's not going to change now. I'll do what I can, I promise you." His voice dropped, low and comforting. "So I'm going to ask you to do something very, very difficult." Lower, barely a whisper. "Trust me, Obi-Wan."
A long sigh. "Well. Patience is one of our chief tenets." Obi-Wan's voice grew slightly louder. "As is inflicting long, tedious, utterly boring extra training on eavesdroppers..."
Oh hell, busted!
---------------
"So now he's telling Gensai he's looking for some guy out in the mountains, who ended up a peasant - can a gaijin even be a peasant?"
Stepping out of his sandals up onto the engawa, Kenshin listened to Yahiko's words tumbling over themselves, and smiled tiredly. So. Kenobi-san had evidently had some insight into his search for his unnamed relation.
Not surprising, Kenshin thought, pushing aside the shoji. His steps were soundless down the hall, heading for that knot of young confusion and dismay. He has had some days now, to read over whatever data our search acquired, and torture can lead you to focus on the most outlandish things. If it doesn't break you first.
He didn't think Kenobi had broken. But it was good to be sure.
"-And if he thinks this Owen guy is dead, why he still even looking-"
Hand just opening the fusama to Kaoru's room, Kenshin stiffened.
"Kenshin?"
The redhead began breathing again, making his way inside. "It's nothing, Kaoru-dono. Kenobi-san has a name of this world; it should not surprise this one that the brother he looks for had one, as well."
Kaoru stared at him. "You brought Obi-Wan into the Imperial Medical Center so he could access the computer net, and you didn't even know who he was looking for?"
"Oro?" Why should I? It wasn't important. Even if it is - startling...
"What do you mean, a name of this world?" Yahiko gave him a cross-eyed look. "Owen's not a samurai name!"
O-u-en, the young man voiced it; as so many in the village had. Shishou had always given Kenshin a very odd look when his student had no trouble pronouncing Basic's odd weh. As why should he not? The sound had no equivalent in Yamatogo. A few Twi'lek words, yes; and some of the Zabrak phrases. But not the human dialects. "Not in Tokyo, no. But it is, in the mountains." Kenshin looked into the distance, recalling the folk of those odd valleys and hidden hills, who had little contact with the outside world and wanted less.
Yet it came to us anyway.
Dark thoughts. Too dark, for the curious young ones before him. "There are... many odd names, in the mountains. Passed down from before we were of Yamato, some of them; honored, even today. Nomi. Ulic. Vima. Andur." Kenshin shrugged. "One could name a dozen others, easily. They are not common, no. But they are known."
"You knew somebody called Owen?" Kaoru perked up.
"And you didn't laugh in his face?" Yahiko muttered.
"One would never have considered it," Kenshin said seriously. "One probably can't be more help than the computer files, Kaoru-dono. Even today, with the Empire's patrols ranging farther than daimyo forces ever did, the mountains are deep, and little known."
"It was worth a try," Kaoru sighed. Waved a finger in Yahiko's face. "And if you'd listened to what you were just saying, he's still looking because they're family, and he thinks one of Owen's kids survived a toxic spill, thirty or fifty years ago-"
The world grayed.
"-Kenshin?" Callused hands guided him down to his knees. "Yahiko, go get some of the leftover bean-cakes, now!"
"But-"
Untouched by hands, Kaoru's bokken rattled against the wall.
"Okay, okay..."
"I knew you didn't get breakfast," Kaoru grumbled, chafing warmth back into his shoulders as the fusama slammed behind her student. "Kenshin? What's wrong?"
"Thirty?" the rurouni managed. "Thirty years, Kaoru-dono?" Not possible. It was thirty-one years, not thirty...
"Just - sometime after he was taken off the planet, I guess," Kaoru shrugged. "I don't know why he said thirty. I'll ask Dr. Gensai-"
"No!"
Kaoru's hands stilled. Drawing back, she looked him in the eye. "Kenshin? What's wrong?"
It's not possible. It's not. "With only a given name, there is no way Kenobi-san can find this brother..."
"He was a kinu weaver, I think," Kaoru stated. "Or working with them, anyway... he was apprenticed to a Kyoto mulberry grower, Tamaru-san."
"Prune the chewers' nest out now, Shinta, you'll have plenty of leaves for the kinu caterpillars later. I learned that from Tamaru-san." Heavy shears in small hands on one of the few sunlit days they weren't in the fields, as 'Tousan held onto a tan-barked trunk and urged him toward the mulberry's high branches. "Just watch your grip, and be careful; if we finish up early, we can read more of his manual tonight..."
A manual. But everyone had agricultural manuals, didn't they? The better farmers did, at least; and if his family had been poor, they hadn't been the poorest in the village. Not at first.
"He was a redhead, a bit taller than average - for our planet, anyway - we even have images! There's got to be some way to find him."
"Images?" Kenshin whispered.
"Well, yes, the recording's old, so it's not a holo, but we - Kenshin?" Blue eyes gave him a very worried look.
Not possible. Not. "Could one... see it?"
A dozen questions hovered on her lips. Kaoru bit them all back, and crossed the room to pick up a datapad, fingers dancing to silence the sound and freeze one image on the screen. "It's kind of upsetting, so I'll just - here."
He's so young.
Not more than Kaoru's age, if that; still sick with Miasma, hair almost as red as his own tied back over a Kyoto townsman's brown and blue kimono. Clothes he'd never seen the man wear, a face lacking near two decades of care and grief...
It's him.
"Gods, you look like you've seen a ghost," Kaoru muttered, taking the datapad from his nerveless hand. "You knew him? This was taken about fifty years ago; before you were even born! How did you-" She stopped. Looked at the image again. Raised a stunned, pale face, to look at him once more.
What do I do? What do I say?
"Oh, Kenshin."
Her arms wrapped warm around him. Kenshin let them, even as he railed at himself for his weakness. He was a student of Hiten Mitsurugi, not a child; the dead were dead, and he had grieved them and moved on. This was but a fragment of a past he'd never known. History. Ghosts and dust.
So why does it hurt so much?
"Tell me."
"What is there to say?" But he owed that gentle whisper something; owed the strong, hopeful woman who even now tried to rescue brightness from grief. "We lived a quiet life. Some of the neighbors thought 'Tousan was strange, we were born so late... but like red hair, it is known that some of the mountain folk cannot get children until they are near thirty. We had fields, and a loom, and care of some of the forest nearby; 'Tousan had earned a forester's rights, though he was gentle, and almost never carried his blade." Words stuck in his throat. He swallowed dryly. "Then - one evening, thirty-one years ago - there was an explosion. A mist, with a smell that..." He shook his head, helpless. "We were up-slope from much of the village. 'Tousan carried this one to the roof, and-"
"Don't come down, Shinta! Do you hear me? Whatever happens, whatever you sense - don't come down!"
"Everything in the mist died."
"Everyone?" Kaoru said numbly. Saw something in his face, and paled further. "Oh gods. The crops..."
He nodded once, remembering that dazed, bitter heartbreak, as the few survivors looked over devastation. The grief, and fear, and odd, unwarranted feeling of betrayal as the shrewder of those gazes turned toward him...
A minor orphan could not hold an ie together. Fact. Simple fact.
Simple as the knowledge that a wounded ie - and none of the village's surviving families had escaped unscathed - could not afford to take in another, unrelated child. That tax-gathering would soon be on them, and winter would follow close on its heels. That without cash for medicines and food now, half those ie that had lived might yet perish.
Fact. And yet he'd still been... so terribly surprised...
"A zegen?"
Kenshin let out a soft huff of breath, relieved not to have to explain. Kaoru was samurai. She knew about hard choices. "One suspects that was the intent, yes. Those one was contracted to never - quite - reached Kyoto." Blood in the night. Three simple stones...
But that was the past. And this was now. "You cannot tell Kenobi-san, Kaoru-dono."
She was shaking her head. "He wants to find you. He wants to know you. He's a good man-"
"And what," Kenshin said softly, "would a good man do, faced with Hitokiri Battousai?"
Something thumped outside Kaoru's door, like a young apprentice dropping stunned to the floor mats.
Careless. Too careless. Kenshin rubbed at his eyes, and backed away from Kaoru's arms. I need sleep. We must search for Katsu again, soon - and Megumi's enemies are still out there, somewhere. "Come in, Yahiko-kun."
Wide-eyed, Yahiko scrambled inside, offering bean-cakes like scraps to an untamed hawk. "You're..."
Sighing, Kenshin nodded. "Are you surprised?"
"Kind of." From somewhere, the boy dredged up a faint smirk. "But it makes sense. You had to get that good somewhere."
"One is skilled, yes," Kenshin said quietly. "But the way that skill was gained - one has met Jedi, Kaoru-dono. Long ago. And while one suspects a survivor would be more flexible than most... Obi-Wan is Jedi." Tired violet met tearful blue. "Hana bore you, Kaoru-dono. Raised you. Loved you. He... he was taken from his kin, and raised on a world we cannot even imagine, with loyalty only to the Jedi, and to the Republic. He may be this one's father's brother, by blood - but he is not this one's 'Jisan."
"He's somebody's," Kaoru objected. "Can't you feel it? It's faint, but he has family bonds."
"Not to this one." Though there had been a moment, holding the older man's soul against the lightning... "Jedi often assisted folk in emergencies, that they did. It's not impossible he aided in a Force-sensitive's birth, and never knew he bonded to the child."
"How could you not know?" Yahiko objected, rubbing an ear. Caught his teacher's raised eyebrow, and blushed bright red. "Um - my 'kaasan helped one of the girls once, they threw me right out..."
"I guess, if you'd never had a family-" Kaoru shook her head, wide-eyed. "That just seems so cold."
"When one believes one serves a greater purpose, one may do - anything." Kenshin shook his head. "Hold to your heart, Kaoru-dono. The path of great causes is too often carved through blood."
Soberly, she nodded, fingers a feather-whisper over one of his scarred palms. "Like yours."
"One made one's own choices." Kenshin closed his hands. "But one will not see you pay for what this one did; that I will not."
"Then you better get set to move fast," Yahiko said practically. "Kenobi thinks Gensai knows where the guy he's looking for is. And Gensai said he did know, but he wouldn't tell him. Yet."
"Oro." Kenshin buried his head in his hands.
"It's not that bad," Kaoru managed. "He knows you're a healer with some onmitsu techniques, that's all-"
"And Kenobi-san already knows Battousai was of Shadow, with red hair," Kenshin said grimly. "He is not stupid." Oh gods, what more can go wrong? "One will stay as long as one can, Kaoru-dono. But you may be safer dealing with the onmitsu without this one, than with a hunting Jedi at your back."
"Kenshin..." Her eyes were bright, and fearful.
"He is fragile, Kaoru-dono," Kenshin said softly. "Near breaking. What will it do to him, if he discovers his Code demands he slay his own kin?"
"Oh." Her knuckles wove together, white with pain. "Oh, it's not fair. It's just not fair."
"Kaoru-dono-" His breath caught; he had to swallow, before the words would come. "You have been very kind to this one. It is - all the fairness one can ask of the world, that it is-"
Presence. It jerked at Kenshin's senses, drawing his gaze toward the front gates, as if he could peer through walls to see the physical body.
Kaoru caught his shift in attention, and reached out herself, brightening. "Katsu!"
---------------
Finally. Picking at the last fragments of her late breakfast, Megumi leaned back on her haunches, watching Katsu twitch a hand as he drowsed on a futon. With his copilot back in strangling range, Sanosuke should finally calm down long enough for them to make some serious plans for the Sekihoutai - and the sooner she had those finalized, the sooner she could get out of this fragile little dojo.
She appreciated the risks those here were running to keep her safe. She truly did. But the constant clutch of her heart at any little sound out of place; the strain of staying out of sight and hearing of everyone else who tromped through Kamiya's rooms and training hall, not the mention the whole rest of the neighborhood; the complete and utter inability to so much as drift her hands through a garden of growing plants without fear of steely fingers closing on her own...
Kanryuu would have let her touch his plants. Though you couldn't call that a garden.
I can't. I can't do that again. I was trained to help, to heal - I can't twist things that way. Not again!
Even in her dreams, she could see that gleam of polished lenses, as Kanryuu's chemists presented their vial of isolated compounds. See his gloved fingers toy with the changed - tainted - plants, as he turned to her and smirked...
She'd been able to keep them sterile. Resistant to cloning. If he wanted more of his prized toxins, he had to wait for slow, season-guided growth.
Unless he caught her again.
No. I won't let it happen. I can't.
If she didn't get out of here, she was going to chew through a roof beam.
"Catch that little brat and grill him with the eels..."
A screen slid aside, and Megumi let herself glance at the fuming smuggler stalking inside. "What did Yahiko-kun do this time?"
"Little brat told Gensai the nighthawks smeared venom ivy on my-" Sano reddened a little, rapping a fist against his palm. "Let's just say, Jou-chan's apprentice is about to become paste... what are you laughing at?"
"I can't - I-" Megumi buried her face in her hands, giggling. "Sano... if you had venom ivy there... you wouldn't be walking, believe me!"
He flushed to the tips of his ears, and gave her a glare that should have peeled paint. If he'd been able to meet her eyes. "Great, now I'm the comedy relief... Oi! You! Idiot!" A socked foot shoved at Katsu's shoulder.
"Nice to see you too, partner," Katsuhiro muttered drowsily. "Sheesh, what's a guy got to do to get some sleep around here..."
"You've been missing almost two days!"
"I was busy." The long-haired copilot lurched over onto his back, deliberately staring up at his partner upside-down. "Thought we had an agreement. What I do on my off time's my business."
"Yeah. We do. Until I can't find you on your off time." Sano stomped around until he could look Katsu straight in the eye again, then dropped to his haunches to glare close-range. "I used up a lot of favors looking for you, baka. Payback time. And when I get done with you, I'm going to let Kenobi in to collect. You have any idea what one of Saigo's heavies did to him? Not to mention, what Kenshin and I had to do to get him out?"
Megumi drew in a shocked breath. "Are they all right?"
"Gensai's patching them up. After the night we had, I think they'd spontaneously combust if one of 'em had to take their gi off in front of you. Sheesh. Redheads. They blush everywhere."
Megumi blinked, picturing that. Oh... my...
"But for guys crazy enough to take a dive off a couple-hundred-foot cliff by moonlight? Peachy." Sano waggled a finger almost close enough to bite. "And don't tell me samurai can sense where the water is, and where the rocks are, and it was perfectly safe. I didn't buy it then, and I don't buy now."
Katsu sat bolt upright. "They did what?"
"And that was just getting clear of the bad guy," Sano said with relish. "You want to know the rest of it?"
"Um..."
"I want to know where. You. Were!"
"Where else?" Katsuhiro sighed, rolling his eyes.
"I checked the news broadcasts," Sanosuke said flatly. "No hint of anything blowing up."
"Heh. No, there wouldn't be." Katsu's smile was predatory. "Meiji's little bureaucrats probably aren't about to let on that one of their warehouses full of illegal mind-altering drugs went boom."
Megumi tried not to freeze. Mind-altering drugs. But that would mean-
"And it took longer than a day?" Sano said skeptically.
"We... lost a guy." Katsu looked away. "I didn't like him. But he was useful in a fight, you know?"
Lost one man? An inexplicable chill shivered down Megumi's spine. That doesn't seem right.
"So it took a while," the copilot finished, dark eyes smoldering with frustrated rage. "That enough, partner?"
Sano stared at Katsu a moment longer, then rubbed his forehead, sighing. "Yeah. Sorry." He shrugged. "Look. If you need to talk-"
"I know where to find you. Right." Katsu gave a minimal shrug, setting the topic aside. "So. You two make any progress toward getting Sainan-chan here to the Sekihoutai?"
Miss Disaster? Megumi's eyes narrowed. Oh, she'd kill him for that.
"Because I," Katsu pulled a bit of scribbled-on paper out of his jacket, "have a plan."
"This isn't like your plan with the cherry bombs in the cherry ice cream, is it?" Sano said, perfectly straight-faced.
Katsu rolled his eyes again. "No."
"'Cause that didn't fly so well, as you recall. Even if the captain did think it was funny. After we put the fires out."
"Yeah, yeah - and it's not like the time with the dragonmounts, either," Katsu added, before Sano could open his mouth again. "Just take a look. This could work."
Muttering under his breath, Sano took the page. Megumi scooted across the tatami to read around his arm. "Hmm."
Hmm, indeed. If they went that way... and at one of those times, when Katsu knew the particular patrols... with that precaution against being seen...
"Could work," Sano agreed reluctantly. "We'll wait a few days, then try it."
"A few days?" Megumi and Katsu objected as one.
"Hello? Yamato to Katsu? Recent relapse of Miasma? Am I ringing any bells, here?" Sano snorted. "We pull this off, we're going to want to be off-planet for a good long while. A month, minimum. I am not doing that with a sick copilot."
He has a point, Megumi admitted to herself, stomping her disappointment. She could last here a few days longer. Stars, if it would get her out of Kanryuu's reach, she could put up with this crazy dojo for months.
She hoped.
"So." Katsu gave her a slightly less dour than usual curl of lip. "You were saying about how Himura's even crazier than we thought?"
"Oh, yeah." Sano rubbed his hands together gleefully. "You're not going to believe this one..."
---------------
"I don't believe it." Seated on Kaoru's engawa, Obi-Wan curled and uncurled his fingers, marveling at the perfect flex of kote over wrists and palms. Better even than speeder-bike gloves... droid work is always accurate, yes, but it's still no match for a master craftsman. "These are marvelous, Densetsu-san."
Sipping a cup of the dojo's excellent tea, the Zabrak leather-worker regarded his trials with a measuring eye. "The feelings are a good match? I do what I can, but you're very deep, Kenobi-san. Like Himura; now, there was a challenge."
"They feel fine." The Jedi lifted a curious brow. "Yet I suddenly have the distinct impression you're not discussing a tactile sensation."
"Hmm." Another slow sip of tea. "What do you feel, Kenobi-san?"
Feelings? From the gloves? He wasn't like Quinlan Vos, who could read any object by touching it; nor even like the Living Force users he'd met, who knew people and places like their own hearts, from misty swirls of impressions in the Force. He could only get the vaguest sense of...
Death.
Will to survive.
Fight to survive.
Ending-
Obi-Wan pulled himself free with a shake of head, reaching to pull the kote off.
"Death is lighter than a feather; duty heavier than a mountain," Densetsu declared, stopping his fingers on warm leather. "That's the way of samurai. You fight to survive, to serve your lords and your honor. But death is always with you." He nodded toward the kote. "The taking of this life may save your own, and countless others. You are in the ametrine's debt - and some debts can only be repaid with blood." His harsh voice softened, full of reverence. "That is what it is, to be samurai on this world. It's a hard path you choose, gaijin. Walk it with honor."
A Jedi lives, knowing that for the least of citizens, he may be called upon to die... "You choose the leather not only by its quality, but by the impressions left behind," Obi-Wan realized, taken aback. "You're not surprised at redheads; how did you know?"
"It's not so hard to choose, for most," Densetsu said practically. "The kote reminds you what it is to kill, and to die; browsers they may be, but ametrine tusks can jab through light hull plate, and every year there's a few hunters who don't come back. But it also has to feel like you, Kenobi-san, or the resonance will distract in a fight, rather than aid. That's not so important to lesser blade-wielders, but to someone who truly follows the way of the sword..." He lifted shaggy brows.
Get good enough, and it's the fractions of seconds that count, Obi-Wan agreed silently. And you believe I'm that good. More - you believe Kenshin is. Interesting...
"So you needed a wily one, who'd survived more than one trap meant to kill. And as for being gaijin..." Smirking, Densetsu gestured toward his own cheeks. "You'd best get a better whisker-knife. No human born of Yamato is that bristly."
It's always the little details that get you, Obi-Wan reflected wryly, almost rubbing his cheek. "And Kenshin? If I may ask," he added hastily.
The Zabrak sighed, and drained his cup. "Grief," Densetsu said at last. "A nursing mother. I knew the man who brought that one in; to shorten a very long story, everything that could go wrong on that hunt did, and it was him or her. He did the honorable thing, tracked the fawn down and made certain it didn't suffer. I still don't know if he'll find the heart to hunt again." Dark eyes regarded him. "Why do you ask?"
"Trying to solve a puzzle," Obi-Wan said honestly. "These past few days, since our... misadventure, on the coast - well, he's been a bit jumpy around me."
"And it couldn't just be seeing an innocent man tortured, could it, my padawan?"
Obi-Wan had a sudden, odd urge to bury his head in his hands. :Master!:
"Hmm. Well, Kaoru hasn't told me about that night, but given some of the rumors about folk who fall afoul of the wrong crowd out that way..." Densetsu shook his head. "I'm not one for politics. All I can do is feel the wind. And if someone like me can tell the breeze that way prickles with a typhoon to come, Himura-san must feel it breathing down his spine."
"A vision?" Obi-Wan asked carefully, trying not to glance toward the translucent figure settling down to sit on his opposite side.
The leatherworker stifled an ungodly cackle. "Do I look like a priest?" He gave Obi-Wan a salacious wink. "And trust me, cute as he may be, Himura-san's no miko!"
"Er..." Obi-Wan hesitated, and risked honesty. "I truly have no idea what that means."
"And now, you're learning," Qui-Gon murmured. "Pay attention, padawan. It's about to get interesting."
"People afflicted with visions usually end up joining a shrine," Densetsu said soberly. "At least long enough to learn to control them. You do know what a shrine is?"
"I know Kaoru has places of honor for her ancestors, in the main house and the dojo."
"That's a start," the Zabrak nodded. "Inside shrines are for family, or a school. Outside shrines are - well, places ki is very strong."
"Light, or Dark?"
Densetsu gave him a surprised look. "Kenobi-san, I don't know how it works on other worlds, but here, most folk think it's a good idea to honor both. Some places just spawn malicious spirits, and they're a lot easier to live with if a pretty young miko sweet-talks them. How strong they are, how noble; how much everyone fears them already, so they don't need to go ravaging across the land..."
"That's an... interesting strategy," Obi-Wan said slowly.
"And if it gets any more interesting, it's going to hurt your brain, hmm?" Qui-Gon laughed softly.
:You're not helping, Master.:
"But I doubt Himura-san's ever had a problem with visions," the leatherworker went on matter-of-factly. "He feels more like Kaoru. Or like the shadow of ki that runs in my family. We're folk of this world, not the spirits'."
Living Force users, Obi-Wan translated. "So when you say Kenshin feels a typhoon...?"
"You don't need visions to know that much anger in one place can't be good," Densetsu said soberly. "And when you're close, it's likely he feels whatever happened to you, as well."
"Kaoru doesn't appear to share that difficulty," Obi-Wan objected.
"Kaoru wasn't old enough for the last war." Densetsu stared into his empty cup, set it down with a sigh. "I imagine you have Basic, but do you read Yamatogo?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes a moment, checking the feel of shadowy memories impressed over his own. "I think I can manage."
"Ask Kaoru to introduce you to the local book-lenders," Densetsu nodded. "There's half a hundred histories of the Revolution out there, and you'll want to read a good dozen, at least. It was a mess." He whistled softly. "And we didn't see half the bloodshed of Kyoto."
"And Kenshin was in Kyoto," Obi-Wan realized.
"Mm-hmm. So was Kamiya Koshijirou. For a while. That's how I know it was bad; the way he came back..." Densetsu shook his head. "His sword-skill saved his life, but Hana saved his spirit."
Bad memories, Obi-Wan thought, seeing how the Zabrak's gaze stared into a painful distance. "Yours is a truly amazing world," he stated, deliberately changing the subject. "The ametrine, the yawara-kai; I've never been to any planet where life itself seemed to know what to do with lightsabers..." He let his voice trail off, taking in Densetsu's sudden look of near mischief. "What?"
The leatherworker was fighting a snicker. "And you think that's an accident, Kenobi-san?"
"Err..." :Master?:
"Oh, I've heard a few versions of this already," Qui-Gon shrugged. "It should be interesting to hear Master Densetsu's take on it."
Obi-Wan tried not to smile wryly. :Master Densetsu, is it?:
"He may not be Jedi. But in his own craft? Oh yes, Padawan. A master, indeed." A flicker of a smile. "Remind me to tell you about a rather interesting potter on this planet, later."
A potter? Obi-Wan didn't quite roll his eyes. Spirit or not, this was the same man who'd once given him the magnificent present of - a rock.
Mind you, it'd been a very nice rock. But not exactly the sort of thing teenage dreams were made of. Even teenage Jedi dreams.
"Our ancestors may not have had the technology the Empire does, but they did have a few useful skills," Densetsu was saying. "Including the ability to find what they needed in the life of this world... and if they couldn't find it, to shape it."
For a moment, Obi-Wan forgot to breathe. Sith technology! He's talking about warping lifecodes!
"Indeed he is," Qui-Gon murmured. "And precisely what do you plan to do about it?"
"It's mostly lost to legend now," the Zabrak went on. "Though rumor says some of the onmitsu clans may hold the ways of working with animals. And Gensai-sensei tells me no few of the samurai doctor clans still know how to touch plants. For which we can all be grateful." He poked the Jedi in the arm. "You didn't think hashima works so well just by accident, did you?"
"It never occurred to me," Obi-Wan managed, still stunned.
"Mmm. I have a nephew, who has a fiancée, who works in the farms near town," Densetsu stated. "There are a few families who go through the hashima fields every seeding, checking for nutlets that might be coaxed into something new, and making sure the old varieties stay close to type. If we let it slip to just one strain, Miasma would outwit it in a generation."
The Jedi tried to gather his wits. "Why not just eliminate the carriers?"
"Kill all the biters? Empire's tried that a few places. Including here. Have to have a modern spaceport, after all." Densetsu's smile had a distinctly bitter cast. "Worked for a while. Starved everything that ate the biters, Gensai tells me, and poisoned more, but it worked. Then more biters swarmed down to fill in the cracks - and they brought Kanto Plain Miasma."
"Not good," Obi-Wan breathed.
"No." Dark eyes had angry shadows. "Lucky for us, Gensai says, some of the old noble families were damned if Meiji would blast their family gardens with off-world chemicals. They ended up being... refuges, I think was the word he used. For the local biters, and Tokyo Miasma. Both of which had an edge in this area, as soon as the poisons broke down a bit. Meaning we don't have Kanto Plain Miasma here. Not anymore."
The Jedi's heart clenched. "How many died?"
"There aren't any official statistics," the Zabrak said darkly. "But when the Empire got started, Tokyo had over a million citizens. Five years later, when the government finally gave up, I hear the census only dragged up seven hundred thousand." Leathery hands clenched. "Six of those were kin of mine."
Obi-Wan bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
"We take the years fate gives us." The Zabrak's smile was bittersweet as the emotions swirling through the Force about him. "Mind you, when I think about whatever madman shaped the black willows, I have to wonder that anyone goes near onmitsu." A wry grin, as he stood. "Then again, that's probably why they never admit who they are, isn't it?" Densetsu nodded toward the kote. "It's not my place to advise a samurai, but if I were-"
"If you would be so kind, please," Obi-Wan said dryly.
"Take your time getting used to those before you wear them into a fight," the Zabrak stated. "Some practice sparring would certainly be wise. The swordsmen I've known all say the sharpness is... very different... from fighting bare-handed." Stepping down into his sandals, Densetsu headed out of sight toward the sounds of suds splashing and children's giggles, Kenshin's kote under his arm.
"Very different, indeed," the Jedi murmured, peeling off the kote. Letting out a relieved breath as that sense of imminent death retreated. "If that's how they prepare for a fight... a difficult path, truly."
"One that is not," Qui-Gon observed coolly, "of the Jedi."
"Kamiya Kasshin does diverge from Jedi ways," Obi-Wan admitted, keeping his voice low. "Far more than I ever would have imagined." Kaoru may not wear them often, but the difficult moves, the ones that her students must do correctly to live - yes, she wears kote for that.
And she makes no apologies. As my vision of Battousai did not, for what he knew he had to do...
"Do you truly plan to keep those?"
"While I remain on this planet, it would be unwise to be seen as other than samurai," Obi-Wan observed, catching the sense of his master's frown. "Yes." Unsettling as they are. Still, there was something oddly honest about the kote. Peacemakers Jedi might be - but from the moment a youngling could walk, they were trained to kill.
"And do you plan to remain on this planet?"
"I..." There's a war going on. I should be out there. The Rebellion needs all the help it can get.
But there's a Rebellion here, too; and if Kurogasa's any indication, it's gone horribly wrong. How can I leave that cancer to grow, and spread?
Yet how can I stay? Samurai - they are and aren't like Jedi. And even a Jedi is a sentient being, with a sentient's needs. I'm lonely. It didn't matter so much on Tatooine, no one there was like me but Luke... yet I could belong here. If I chose to. I like these people. I admire Kaoru's strength, to hold this dojo, this community together. Gensai's kindness, treating a complete stranger. Even Megumi's desperation; it's a strong soul that will not take the easy path, and yield to Darkness when all seems lost. And those puzzles that have landed in my lap; Kenshin, and Battousai-
If he left, he'd leave Owen's son.
It hurt.
:Master... something's wrong with me...:
"You've been bound, my padawan." Qui-Gon regarded him with a critical eye. "He tried to break it, once you were healed - but the training of this world encourages bonds between relatives. Even those you've never known." A shift of insubstantial shoulders. "He's blocked most of it, but I imagine it pulls on him, as well."
Eyes closed, Obi-Wan searched within himself, tracing that odd impression of shadows left behind.
It wasn't the same.
So beautiful...
Like a strand of spider-web, dew-gemmed with dawn. Almost too delicate to touch.
He breathed on it.
A quiver. Barely there. And... silence...
::
I know you!
::
Flight. Vanishing.
Yet the bond remained. Frail. And shadowed. But real... and tasting of the same soul that had healed one Jedi, and brought grieving, merciful death to another.
My brother's son. Obi-Wan found himself swallowing an odd lump. :I can't leave him, Master. I just - can't.:
A definite frown, on blue-lit features. "You'd allow emotions to control your actions."
Anathema, to Jedi. Still... :I thought you were the one who wanted me to trust my feelings?:
"Trust, yes. Allow them free reign?" Qui-Gon shook his head. "You and Yoda are all that remains of the Jedi Order. If you choose this path-"
:Forever will it dominate my destiny?: Obi-Wan cut in, impishly.
Qui-Gon was silent.
The Jedi sat up, alarmed. :Master...:
"I meant for you to find this world, and start anew," the spirit said softly. "You're kind to children. And there are orphans enough here, true orphans... a Jedi could have begun training, right under the Empire's nose. When Luke fulfills his destiny, and destroys Vader, and the Emperor..."
There could be a small group of younglings, ready to be taught, Obi-Wan finished silently. Ready to begin the Order anew.
Wait. "Could have begun"?
"But I did not see him, and I did not see her," Qui-Gon went on. "Battousai walks in shadow, and all about him changes..." Blue light began to fade.
:Master, wait!:
"I have someone to visit, Obi-Wan." A hint of laughter. "Though he thinks I'm a drunken hallucination..."
Gone.
Taking what felt like all the solidity in the universe with him.
Breathe, and center. Breathe - never mind that it's a youngling's simple grasp of the Force, a Jedi does not yield to pride, and you need calm, now-
It felt like an eternity. But suddenly there was the eager, polite laughter of Kaoru's students taking off for the day, and a bright warmth in the Force standing just out of range of a startled strike. "What's wrong?"
"Kamiya-sensei." Keep breathing. Slow and easy. "I think... the past few months simply caught up with me. In part, at least," Obi-Wan amended, more softly. "I was - considering my options." He blinked, suddenly recognizing the odd feeling shaking his calm as surprise. "For the first time in over two decades, I actually have options. The will of the Force has no one, clear path; there are many, and I simply do not know enough to choose. It's..."
"Scary?" Kaoru settled down on her knees next to him, brushing a sweaty strand of hair off her nose. "Sanosuke says, if you're in a strange port, and you can't get a good feeling about which cargo's the best to pick up, go for the one that'll let you ask the most questions. Credits don't do you any good on Kessel."
Obi-Wan laughed quietly. "So the young man does have a mind under the swagger. I suspected as much."
"Most of the time," Kaoru agreed brightly. "Even if he is a guy."
"I beg your pardon-"
She raised an impish brow at him, and Obi-Wan decided to swallow the rest of his protest. Truth told, he had observed a tendency toward a certain amount of idiocy in young male humans... even young male human Jedi.
Like secretly marrying a young Senator-
Enough. The past was past. Did he share in the guilt? Oh, certainly. But he hadn't held a lightsaber to anyone's throat and forced them to their actions.
As Qui-Gon, he realized, was not forcing his actions now.
He didn't say not to find Battousai. He only warned me - that if I pursue this path, nothing will be the same again...
"What is it like," Obi-Wan managed, mouth dry, "to have a family bond?"
Kaoru blinked, startled; started to speak - then settled back, brows drawn down in heavy thought. "It's warm," she said finally. "Deep. Yahiko... an apprentice bond is like my kata. He's there, he's important; I have to pay attention to him every day, so that we both get better. I chose that. Family... family is like air." Blue eyes sought his, determined. "My parents never let it stop them from doing what was right. But if it came down to a choice between my life, and someone else's-" Knuckles paled as she gripped folds of her hakama. "I miss them."
You were sure - utterly and absolutely sure - that if there was danger, someone would risk everything they were to save you, Obi-Wan realized. That someone would try. That they would fight.
Instead of accepting. As Shmi Skywalker had accepted that her son would be forever parted from her; as Obi-Wan had accepted Qui-Gon's dying wish to train a boy he knew was dangerous; as the Council had accepted, ungraciously, that they must take in the Chosen One, rather than let him fall into the hands of the Sith.
Hana chose attachment. Everything we were taught was anathema to us.
Yet her daughter glowed in the Force, calm shot through with joy like threads of gold. And if that joy was sometimes bittersweet, tinged with what had been and was no longer... even her grief did not feel Dark.
"I knew - someone who Fell," Obi-Wan admitted. His voice sounded normal in his own ears, and that itself seemed wrong. It should be harsh, grating; a dark boulder, dragged over mountain stone. "I thought it was because he had left the Code. Refused to let go of attachments. Formed new ones, that he knew were not, would never be allowed. And it was, I know it was. But now... I wonder if it wasn't also, in some, small way that we were blind to - the Code left him."
"Obi-Wan?"
"His mother was a slave." The Jedi kept the words short. Even. "My master bought the boy free, but not her." He hid a wince, imagining already the firestorm his next words would bring. "And we never went back for her." It never even occurred to me to try.
"Obi-Wan no baka!" Thwack.
She truly is well trained, the Jedi thought, blinking away the sudden burst of stars in daylight. Good aim, perfect control, just enough force to make it hurt without being serious... ow...
"You- you-" Shaking her head, Kaoru put down the bokken she'd Force-yanked to her hand. "You creator of an accident waiting to happen! Kami, I can't even imagine what he must have done-"
"You don't want to," Obi-Wan said bleakly. "I saw it. Afterward. I saw it all." His eyes closed, haunted. "I never knew... how much I loved those little ones..."
"Oh." A soft, hurt breath. "Oh, shh, I'm so sorry..."
Sympathy. Compassion. True, honest feeling in the Force, soaking into his soul like summer rain.
I need this, Obi-Wan realized. I need the Light here. Before the Empire, I lived in a galaxy of stars... and Sidious crushed them, in an instant. I lived, by the will of the Force - no. I continued to exist. For twenty years, one shrouded candle in a universe of darkness.
I'm not sure I can do that anymore.
And doubt was a weapon of the Dark Side. If Sidious sensed him, if the Dark Side brought any whisper of his wavering to Emperor's ears-
I know where the twins are. I cannot risk that!
"I can't even imagine what I may be choosing," Obi-Wan admitted. "My life has always belonged to the Code." Even watching over Luke, on Tatooine. It was an assignment, nothing more. "Is it possible for another teacher to join a dojo?"
Silence. He looked into blue eyes that were startled, then skeptical, then - slowly - thoughtful. Fingers flexed on her hakama; released indigo cloth, as Kaoru rose to pace away, then back, then away again.
Always on the move. He stretched out his senses a moment, listening to Yahiko grumble under his breath as he polished the training hall floor. Just as well, given how much energy her apprentice has. Was I ever that impulsive?
"It can work," Kaoru said at last, making another quick circuit. "Sometimes. It's tricky, though. People come here because they agree with the ideals of my school - my sword style. And mine's not the most popular in Tokyo. You've seen me dragging Yahiko over to Maekawa-sensei's dojo to help train there, so I can afford to keep this dojo going."
Dragging, quite literally, sometimes. On the bright side, he rather thought Yahiko was developing a fine appreciation for knots. "You're saying you can't pay me. No, no," Obi-Wan waved away her blush, "I may not have been gainfully employed for part of my life, but I do understand the need for ready credits. And given there is a spaceport here, I have a few ideas... Sanosuke, I think, can help me to gain a better grasp on what may be practical." He wasn't in the top notch of mechanics, but he knew enough to keep a ship or a droid running. And ever since that drastic emergency stopover on Tatooine decades ago, he'd made it his habit to learn where, when, and how to - ahem - acquire good, cheap parts in a hurry. Both skills might need a bit of dust blown off, this was not Mos Eisley... but spacers were spacers, and ports were ports. He'd manage.
"It's not that," Kaoru protested, still red. "It's the teaching. We'd have to agree on that. All of it. And I'm the head of the dojo. I'm licensed to teach Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu, by Kamiya Koshijirou's hand and seal; you're not. I'd have to observe you. To certify your training is within the style and spirit of this dojo. And given my age, and yours - I'll need Maekawa-sensei as witness, at least; it'd be better if we could bring in two or three other dojo masters. You'd have to be able to fight in my style. It'll take months."
"I've nowhere pressing to be," the Jedi observed wryly. Owen's son is here, in Tokyo. If I haven't startled him into fleeing the system entirely. If I can live here, for months... I can take my time. I can't remember Owen, not well, but in that touch, before the fear - I felt curiosity.
Family members are supposed to share common traits. If he's anything like me, he's too curious for his own good. If I'm patient, if I don't frighten him... he may just find me.
Thoughts he planned to share with his host. But - not now. Not yet. "Still, you are correct. We should certainly both take time to consider the matter thoroughly."
Kaoru flung up exasperated hands. "I don't know why you want to do it at all!"
"Because the way of the Jedi should not die from the universe." Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't imagine it will ever be the same as it was, before the Empire. Nor - painful as it is to admit - should it be. The Jedi as we were, an order that had not changed for a thousand years, were blown out like candles by Sith who had. If we must alter our ways... I will endure it. I must."
Kaoru planted her fists on her hips. "You weren't in the Agricultural Corps."
"As a matter of fact, I was - for near a month," the Jedi admitted, smiling. "Then my master finally admitted he was going to take yet another pathetic lifeform under his wing, and set about dragging a rather ignorant and sometimes incredibly rebellious youngster up in the way of a Jedi Knight." His smile deepened, crinkling his eyes. "You rather remind me of him. Though I can't ever remember Master Qui-Gon hauling me off mummified in ropes."
Kaoru snickered, hiding a bright-eyed grin behind her hand. "He - he wouldn't have-"
"No, likely not," Obi-Wan shook his head. "But I suspect the thought may have crossed his mind."
She gave him a skeptical look, but let it pass. "And what about Kenshin?"
Indeed. Obi-Wan kept the frown off his face, gauging his own reactions. I didn't even consider that might make a difference to this arrangement. Kenshin is simply there, whenever something needs to be done that none of us has the time or skills to do. The laundry, the garden, the cooking... The young man has a surprising gift for making himself part of the background. "Is there a difficulty with Kenshin?"
"Not exactly." Kaoru hesitated. "He doesn't interfere with training. Ever. But sometimes he does what you've been doing; sits and watches, then comes to me later if he sees someone has a problem. He's better than I am at picking up anger, sometimes..."
"Those who have touched the Dark Side often are, even when they've left it long behind," Obi-Wan observed. "Do you trust him?"
"If I didn't, he wouldn't be-" Kaoru blinked. Looked toward the front gate.
Obi-Wan felt the warning chill sweep through the Force, seconds before Ayame and Suzume bolted wailing in from the garden, clinging to "Kaoru-nee-san!" and sobbing about "Soldiers..."
Kaoru rose, hand patting Ayame's loose hair as her face turned grim. "I have a-"
"Bad feeling about this?" Obi-Wan pried loose the girls, tapping one of Suzume's orange-beaded pigtails against her scalp to break the cycle of sobs before scooping them into his arms. "Maa, maa... there now. Everything will be fine..."
I hope.
---------------
Translations and info:
Fusama - internal partition.
Ie - family; in this era, that also often included servants, apprentices, adoptees, and stray distant relatives all living under the same roof.
'Kaasan - mother.
'Jisan - uncle.
Miko - temple maiden.
Nighthawk - a type of prostitute.
O-u-en - "fate of the cormorant" might be one translation.
Oi! - "Hey!" Usually used by guys.
Shoji - exterior screen or door.
Zegen - "procurer"; one of those who acquired people for the various pleasure districts.
