---------------

Home, Kaoru thought, trudging toward the furo with a sigh of relief. Home, with nobody shooting at us, nobody laying in wait for us, nobody after us... She reached out with the Force and yanked on a red ponytail before it could head around the side of the building. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Oro?"

She fixed him with a tired glare. "You are not fueling the bath furnace with those hands, Kenshin."

"Anou... but..."

It's not appropriate for the dojo master to heat the bath when there are students and rurouni around to do it instead. Kaoru hid a sigh. Right. And appropriate behavior was very important right now. Inspector Uramura might be letting them slide, but everyone in the neighborhood knew where they'd been this night. If she didn't want talk to reach dangerous levels, she had to at least attempt to soothe her neighbors' ruffled sensibilities.

"I admit I am lacking in experience," Obi-Wan offered. "If it would not be too much of an imposition, to ask for your instruction?" We need to talk, that sober glance said.

Good idea, Kaoru thought with relief. Great idea. "Yahiko, show Megumi where the dojo medical kit is and help her get these guys cleaned up- Katsu?"

"Out of here," the angry-eyed smuggler muttered. Turned to go-

And ran right into Sano.

"Let me out of here!"

"In the morning," Sano said flatly.

"I'm not sleeping under the same roof with that!"

Kenshin didn't flinch.

Why, you- Kaoru controlled her breathing, beating down the red haze of temper on top of leftover adrenaline. Calm. Calm. There is no passion, there is serenity...

"You want to go back to the Sekihoutai? Fine. I'll go with you. After Megitsune over there checks you out." Sano nodded toward Kenshin. "I'm not asking you to like him. Hell, I'm not even asking you to be civil. But he saved your shebusu, you bakayarou. And you owe him."

Katsu's fingers curled into fists. "Sano..."

"You owe him," Sano repeated. "And I owe him. It'd be hell to break in a new copilot."

Katsu let out an explosive breath. "Fine." He glared at the rurouni. "Don't come near me."

"Why, you-"

Kenshin put a hand on Yahiko's shoulder, stilling her student's snarl. "One accepts the terms of your truce, Tsukioka-san."

"Men." Megumi rolled her eyes. "Growl at each other all you like. Just don't draw any more blood. We'll be going through enough bandages as it is." She swept gracefully past, drawing Yahiko along with a tilt of her head. "Let's see this medical kit of yours. It probably needs an update."

Kaoru covered her smile with her hand, watching the guys blink at each other and follow, mutual threats forgotten in the sting of Megumi's wake. Either I'm going to kill her, or I'm beginning to like her. "This way."

Fire was good. Fire was simple, whether out in the wilderness or inside the small stove that served as a water-heating furnace. Build dry wood around dry tinder so air could carry the first flames upward, and ignite.

With matches, tonight, Kaoru thought, matching thought to deed. Don't think I want to try fire-starting after all that adrenaline... brr.

"So." Obi-Wan's voice behind her was soft. Thoughtful. "Besides Katsu, who else in this dojo doesn't know who Kenshin really is?"

For a moment, the words didn't make sense. Breathe. You have to breathe, he doesn't know or he'd-

The Jedi held out empty hands, marked with almost-healed, oddly familiar cuts. "I had a dream."

The world grayed.

"Easy. Easy..." Obi-Wan had one hand on Kaoru's shoulders to steady her; cupped a hand in front of her face, forcing her to breathe her own breath. "Too much oxygen can be as dangerous as too little, after a night like we've had. I do apologize. There are so few times when I'm certain we won't be overheard-"

"You can't tell him!" Kaoru gasped.

"I know he expects vengeance," Obi-Wan said patiently, stepping back. "Uramura warned me as much. But we are Jedi, Kaoru; and he only did what we would have done, had we been in his place. We merely need to explain that he does not need to fear us."

"He won't believe you," Kaoru whispered. "He won't, and he'll run, and he'll die..."

"A vision?"

Kaoru shook her head. "Saigo's after him. So many people are. And you didn't feel him when he first came here. He was so tired. And then, when he helped you-" She couldn't say it.

"He wounded himself with the Dark Side. Which brings fear in its wake; most especially, the fear of betrayal." The Jedi sighed. "Would he believe the worst of both of us? Even of his own family?"

Kaoru's jaw dropped. She fumbled for another piece of split wood, tossed it through the open stove door. He's sure. He knows his nephew is Battousai, and he knows Kenshin is Battousai, and- "How can you be so calm about it?!"

"Panicking won't help any of us," Obi-Wan said dryly. "Especially when Saigo's vicious little lackey knows. And Yamagata suspects." He gave her a blink of near-innocent question. "Is there that much resemblance?"

Kaoru shot him a look. "I can hear the 'Oro?' just looking at you."

Night hid whatever blush might have risen, but she could feel that mix of resigned embarrassment and interest in the Force.

Another thought struck her, and Kaoru winced. "Kenshin probably would have figured it out the first time he touched you, if he hadn't been so sure there was no one left."

"No one?" Kenobi looked grim. "Kurogasa said he'd tracked his... subject, to a village that didn't exist anymore."

"Chemical spill," Kaoru said bleakly. "Kenshin told me Owen got him to the roof, then went back to help the rest of his family-" She couldn't go on.

Obi-Wan bowed his head.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I know you were probably hoping... I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan."

"I think I knew," he said softly. "I think-" He paused, weighing his words. "There was a time in my life... it was a year after the death of my master. I was still - well, working out the details of just what to do with a young handful of a padawan, and I thought it was only old grief come to call. But I remember waking one morning with a sense of panic, fear for the children, drowning..." He swallowed dryly. "And then, a terrible emptiness."

Like when 'Kaasan died. And 'Tousan. "Thirty-one years ago?"

"Thirty-one," Obi-Wan inclined his head, "almost exactly." He looked over toward the dojo. "Orphaned, at seven."

"A year too old to get the best price," Kaoru said grimly.

Sea-blue fixed on her with a spark of real anger. Kaoru tried not to wince. Maybe I could have said that better... forget it. He has to know. "The village was desperate. People were going to starve! His ie was gone, and that's what happens to you!" Her fists were clenched; deliberately, she relaxed them. "He doesn't hate them for it. It hurts him, but he won't hate them."

"You're all there is of your ie," Obi-Wan realized, a shade of horror creeping into his tone. "If your school failed... if you couldn't support yourself..."

"And Sano and Dr. Gensai couldn't help me?" Kaoru stared into that bleak future, praying once again that it would never come to pass. "I might be able to go rurouni, like Kenshin. If I were fast enough to run. If not... I'm too old to train as a tayuu; probably as a geisha, either. It'd be a force-collar around my neck and a cage for customers to stare in Yoshiwara. If they didn't just execute me for other crimes." She fixed her gaze on the Jedi. "There are a lot of officials who'd consider it a mercy, to trump up some charge to do just that."

"You said it was bad to be an orphan, here." Obi-Wan almost shuddered. "I never imagined... I will not allow this to go on any longer, Kaoru. Not for either of you."

Relief washed over her, leaving her knees weak. Yes, she'd considered him family, but to be sure he would accept her in turn... Don't faint. Think. "You can't claim Kenshin as family. Not yet."

"To let him believe he is an orphan-"

"He is." Kaoru swallowed. "You don't quite get family here, yet. I'm Hana's daughter. She named me, with my father. You're her kin, and mine, because your people, the Jedi, adopted her. The Jedi taught her their ways. Gave her their beliefs. Their soul. Name and soul. That's what family is, here."

"And to keep his children away from Ulloriaq, Owen was forced to give up his name," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. "So by your ways... we are not family." He looked down. "Yet Kurogasa seemed to believe tormenting me would draw him."

"Because by blood you are family." Kaoru turned over another piece of split wood in her hands. Tugged a splinter off, and tossed both pieces in. "This doesn't usually happen. Blood and name and clan are all together. Usually. When someone's adopted, there are rites. Ceremonies, with the Force, to remove ties to one clan and grant them to another."

Obi-Wan frowned. "But if Owen was my brother, and of age, so with legal claim to me by this planet's ways-"

"Then you weren't adopted, you were kidnapped," Kaoru said bluntly. "And no Yamatoan would ever give up on a kidnapped child. Not ever."

"A loophole, then." Obi-Wan wouldn't meet her gaze. "Does he not want me? A gaijin Jedi, after all..."

It was smoke in her eyes, making them sting, Kaoru told herself. Just smoke. "No, you silly," she got out, throat tight. "He doesn't want to hurt you. He thinks... vengeance is serious, here. He thinks one of these days you'll figure out who he really is, and then you'd have to... and you'd have to even if you knew he was yours, and he doesn't want to break your heart..."

"Easy, there." Warmth, holding her shoulder; wrapping her in the Force with gentle sympathy. "Shh. It's all right, now. You're not carrying this alone anymore."

Kaoru sniffled on him for a minute, shamelessly taking advantage of that comfort. Gulped, and straightened, getting the fire into proper order before she shut the grate. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, that's always a good start," Obi-Wan reassured her. "For the rest... patience, yes? We'll think of something."

She swallowed, and nodded. "Megumi."

"What?"

"Besides Katsu," Kaoru clarified. "Megumi doesn't know either. And the Gensai girls, and my students. Except Yahiko. Even if he hadn't overheard us talking... well, what Kenshin had to pull off to get Yahiko out of the Yakuza was way more than most samurai can do."

Obi-Wan stared at her, obviously hearing what name she was not mentioning. "Are you implying that planet-hopping, overly impulsive, less than civil, certainly less than mindful of the laws young man-"

Just inside the door to the engawa, Kaoru heard Sano sneezing.

---------------

Hot water. Eyes closed, Kenshin sank into the large tub with a grateful sigh, paying just enough attention to be sure Megumi's bandages were as waterproof as they should be.

They're holding. Relax. Even Shishou can't be alert all the time. Think of a hot spring in the wilderness, quiet, no one in sensing range. Breathe. Find your calm...

Water splashed. "Kuso. You've got almost as many scars as Kenshin!"

The rurouni tried not to sigh.

"It seems so, yes." Obi-Wan lowered himself in a shade more stiffly than Yahiko's easy splash, muttering something under his breath as very hot water touched bruises. "Bacta's more available in the wider galaxy than here, but depending on the environment... well, scarring is certainly preferable to some of the alternatives."

"Yeah?" Water sloshed as Yahiko leaned forward. "Whoa! You've been in a duel?"

"Er... yes, unfortunately."

"Huh? But we beat the bad guys!"

"Only because we had to," Obi-Wan said frankly. "Violence should always be the last resort. That's your teacher's way, is it not? And I know you saw Kenshin offer the Oniwabanshuu chances to retreat."

"Well... yeah, but..."

"They were our opponents," Kenshin spoke up, abandoning his attempts at calm. Later. I will meditate later. "They did not have to be our enemies. One owed them that chance." Though there are times when there is no choice.

That, too, could wait for later, and the words of Yahiko's true teacher. It was Kaoru's decision to make, when her apprentice should be exposed to the harsh grays of life. Not his.

"So... what's that one?" Yahiko asked after almost a minute of quiet.

"Hmm." Obi-Wan sounded thoughtful, as if probing a half-forgotten memory. "Shrapnel, I believe. Droids and fast trigger fingers on blasters are a rather explosive mix. A terrible mess. Took weeks to clean up."

Kenshin tried not to smile.

"...Right," Yahiko said doubtfully. "And that one?"

"Oh, frighteningly ordinary, I'm afraid. When I was about Kaoru's age, a friend of mine struck his head on a boulder, and fell into a river. I went after him. There were quite a few rocks."

Kenshin bit back a grin, feeling Yahiko's enthusiasm for battle being expertly worn down. Oh, young one. Don't you know? Basic has a word for hero. We do not. There are only those of us who do what we must - and those poor, broken souls who fail their duty.

"Whoa... that one looks like teeth!"

"Ah, yes. Very sharp, in fact. I'm still not certain what that was. Though I doubt I'll ever forget that smell." A grimace roiled through ki. "I know I won't forget hearing my lightsaber short out as it hit the water."

"Oh, man!"

"Ah." The faintest hint of interest tickled the surface of Obi-Wan's emotions. "So that's a problem here, as well?"

"Well... you hear sometimes about ninja coming right up out of lakes with their 'sabers on, but that's just stories..."

Ah. So that is what he wishes to know. "No," Kenshin said plainly, calling his lightsaber to his hand. "It is not."

Eyes open, he switched it on; first student's violet, then unshielded amber. Touched it to the bathwater, watching Yahiko's eyes widen as liquid steamed... and the blade remained intact.

Fingers and will switched it off, before the spot of boiling water could spread and harm. "One presumes, from your question, that the Jedi have also discovered this."

"Two focus crystals employing a bifurcating cyclical-ignition pump allow the blade to be used even underwater," Obi-Wan stated, perfectly calm. "A trick I picked up from an amphibious friend of mine... and one I've thanked Kit's memory for many a time, given the foes I've faced in aquatic environs. Your blade shifts color between training strength and full power. I knew you had to be using more than one crystal. I didn't know if you had the rest of the technology as well." He gave Kenshin a wry look. "And I still don't know why it was blue."

"That, is the will of ki," Kenshin smiled at him, waving his lightsaber back to the shelf away from the bath. "The gentle blow softens the blade's strength before it can cut living flesh. It shows."

The Jedi's brow lifted. "You absorb the energy of your own lightsaber?"

"When one must." Kenshin dipped his head. "Though usually it is more a matter of redirection, so the most harmful energies remain on the back of the blade. It is not the most easily mastered of abilities-"

"I would think not!" Obi-Wan let out a huff of breath. "Once I've built another lightsaber, my young friend, I dearly want to spar with you. I suspect I could learn a great deal."

He was a seasoned rurouni. A student of Hiten Mitsurugi. He would not eep.

Though one suspects you would learn rather too much-

"Of course, it's the building that worries me at the moment," the Jedi went on. "I have the tools and the components to build a waterproof lightsaber, yet I only have one focus crystal. And given you say samurai create crystals on this planet, rather than finding them, a skill I most certainly have not mastered..."

You do not know what you are asking for, Kenshin thought, lightheaded. You do not know. Kenobi-san was not a cruel man, after all. And he did not suspect. He could not suspect.

But even as he was not cruel, neither was he a fool. Obi-Wan felt Yahiko's stunned silence, and sighed. "All right. What have I done wrong this time?"

"Ah- well- um-"

Kenshin gave the boy a slight smile, silencing his stammer. "What Yahiko-kun means to say is, while anyone may pass along a student's crystal, the level of control needed to create a master's crystal renders their gifting far more personal. It is the treasure of master to student ready to face the battlefield; of one battle-comrade to another in dire need. Of," he barely hesitated, "kin to kin, for the defense of the ariitu."

To ask your own kin for the sword you need to slay them, to defend the clan's honor... it would be a right thing to do.

You must never know. Never.

"But this one is guesting under Kaoru-dono's roof, who has not yet the skill to aid her students." Kenshin dipped his head. "If one could examine the crystal you have in the morning, when we are both rested - one will see what can be done." He let his face grow more serious. "If one can aid, Obi-Wan, one must ask that you conceal the blade's strength, whenever you can. The art of forming two crystals that can work in concert is rare, and a secret ninja clans guard with their lives. They would not be pleased to find it in samurai hands."

"I imagine not." Water rippled, and ki-

"Oro?" Kenshin batted at the swath of hair floating upward at the Jedi's whim, gleaming scarlet and crimson in the lantern-light.

"Forgive my curiosity." Obi-Wan studied the play of color in wet hair with unabashed interest. "I wanted to ask the other night, but given the amount of ribaldry in the air, I didn't wish to give our aquatically-employed rescuers any further reason to pry. Those stripes are a lot clearer in this light, anyway... I've never seen that on another human. Is this why Katsu-"

"No," Kenshin said hurriedly, face heating. "Or - perhaps - Katsu is Edokko, and those like this one are not common here... One's 'Kaasan carried Fireryo blood." Though hers had been far more marked than his; he could remember winding small hands in rivers of black and gold.

"Firrerreo." Obi-Wan sounded the word out as if it were Basic. And perhaps it was; recognition lit his face. "I've heard of them once, long ago. A rare species in the Outer Rim... but why would that be odd? That onmitsu was obviously of that race."

"Humans marry into the clans," Yahiko said bluntly. "Fireryo never marry out. They don't trust people."

"They can, if they must," Kenshin corrected. Remember the good times. Remember them happy, together. "They do not wish to lose who they are, Yahiko. But they love this world, and they are loyal to their lords. None can ask for more." Kenshin rested his gaze on Obi-Wan. "No. Katsu called this one demon because one used the skills demons are known to have; to enter another's mind, and touch its essence. True demons do far more than that," he added dryly, "but those who suffer such, rarely survive to tell the tale."

"Demons," Obi-Wan said faintly.

"Living nightmares, created from the Dark Side of ki," Kenshin said frankly. "They do exist. If you see a form that should be dead, yet is not... or worse, a black star, roiling with energy and fear... do not stop to ask questions. Run. Gather all those you can with strength in the Light. And do not be alone."

"But that's not what kitsune look like!" Yahiko protested.

Briefly, Kenshin considered pounding his head against the wall of the tub. "Kitsune are not demons, Yahiko-kun."

"But-"

"Oni are dark energy. Kitsune are living creatures, like you and I. Little creatures," he added for Obi-Wan's sake. "Small, four-footed, red-furred souls, with one tail, or many, and boundless curiosity. And a very great strength at illusions."

"But they do horrible things to people!" Yahiko protested.

"To those who stray into their territory? Yes," Kenshin agreed. "And there are always a few who Fall, as humans do, losing their hearts in Darkness. Nogitsune are a danger to everyone." His voice softened. "But many are innocent, Yahiko-kun. Like Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan. They mean no harm. They simply do not understand that when a human's mind is touched, is influenced, to see other than what eyes should see... a human is afraid."

Yahiko stared at him. "They turn into samurai and get them into all kinds of trouble. They turn into trees and fog, so they can send whole army divisions on a wild gachou chase. They turn into courtesans, just so they can get guys alone and suck out their-" he blushed.

Kenshin shrugged. "One never said they were safe." Warm enough, he stepped out of the tub. "Until the morning."

At least he could put it off that long. The very thought of studying Obi-Wan's focus crystal...

Think of something else, Kenshin told himself firmly, treading down the raised walk toward the main house. Anything else. Even- damn.

Aoshi's data-crystal was still waiting, after all. With whatever information the okashira's lord had deemed fit for Battousai's eyes.

I have to look at it tonight, he sighed, opening the screen to his room. Kaoru-dono could still be in danger. We could all be in danger.

And whatever bombshells might lurk in that data, they were meant for Battousai. Not a heartbroken young man of a shattered ie, wondering for the first time in decades whether he was the last survivor... or whether he would be fighting his own blood to remain so.

No. Compared to Obi-Wan's innocent request, it couldn't be that bad.

"Himura-san. If you are viewing this, the Oniwabanshuu have succeeded in their mission, and Takeda Kanryuu has been neutralized..."

It wasn't that bad. It was worse.

Hologram off, Kenshin stared at the crystal, and resolutely stored it away in his medicine box. Pulled his yukata a bit tighter about himself, tucked his lightsaber against his arm, and propped himself against a wall to sleep.

Sleep, and try not to dream of the Bakumatsu...

Darkness sucked him under, and there was no choice.

---------------

Sake tasted strongly of blood, tonight.

He ate mechanically, barely tasting the spices Okami-dono had added to try and put a little weight back on him. The rest of the hall was loud, boisterous; warriors celebrating the deaths of their enemies.

Near him, only silence.

I should have just eaten in my room. Or just gone there, never mind the food-

No. Katsura needed him. He had to eat.

Even if it all tasted of ashes, and blood.

Dishes crashed.

Drunks. He closed his eyes a moment, suddenly weary. Rinsed his bowl with a bit of hot water, and drank it down. Well. I've had enough for one night-

"An' we owe it all to the Demon of Kyoto!" a tall samurai slurred, advancing on him with a peculiar right-sided stagger. "What kind of honor is that?"

Edokko, he placed the accent dispassionately. Not in town long. His amber gaze flicked to the drunk man's comrades; Kyotoko, and samurai from the backwoods of Choushuu, all of whom had been on Kyoto's bloody streets long enough to know better. They shrank back, but kept smirking.

Drunks without the honor to save one of their own. Fools.

"We're s'posed t' be samurai, fighting for the honor of the Emperor." Weaving back and forth, the Edokko glared at him, eyes slipping in and out of focus. "'Stead we run, while some hell-cursed assassin gets 'tween us an' the Mibu wolves... oi! I'm talkin' to you!"

He didn't move. Didn't so much as twitch, even as the stench of vomit clogged his nostrils, knowing the others were waiting for their fun. Waiting for Katsura's dragon to just touch his 'saber, and terrify this poor, older, naive samurai half to death with only a look.

Eyes. Something pricked at him through ki; a whisper, so gentle that it wafted past the raw numbness of killing. Look at his eyes!

"We're supposed to do the fightin' an' the dyin', like warriors! An' then something like you comes along and makes it all worth nothing-"

The punch came. He wasn't there.

Behind the man, he held up an empty palm, calling to the cool threads of ki weaving through hot drunkenness. "Sleep."

The samurai dropped like a stone.

That shouldn't have worked so easily. Even on a drunk. Down on one knee, he peeled back one eyelid, then another; ignoring the sudden silence, whispers, shouts that damn it, the demon had finally killed a man, just for being a little pushy-

Left pupil was blown. Damn.

He stood, freezing the room with a look. "Get a doctor. He's concussed." You idiots, he wanted to add.

Silence.

"When did he start throwing up?"

More silence. A shuffling of feet. "It was his first fight," somebody muttered. "City-bred slug thought his sword-style's so great. Never really drew blood before..."

And that would have been hours ago. Damn. He glanced at one of the inn's serving maids. "Saezuri-dono, get help. Now." He lowered his hand, and lifted; the samurai's limp body rising with his will. "We'll be in my room."

Hours. He's been getting sicker for hours. He lowered the samurai down to the futon he himself never used, feeling time trickle through his grasp like sand. Ki was frail about this man, tattered; life fleeing from a hidden injury. He doesn't have time to wait for the healer.

Breathe. Center. And in...

Eyes closed, he saw the pulse of blood flowing awry under torn skin and bone; felt the pooling pressure, threatening to snuff out life like rising water.

First, keep him alive.

A delicate brush of ki touched blood vessels as they were, woke from them the echo of what they should be. He reached in, gentle as he could, shaping ki to that echo, so the red flow steadied.

In and out. Let it pulse with the heart. Gentle, baka; a cherry blossom, falling through air, not a blast to shatter stone and steel and the bone behind it.

The rhythm stuttered. But it held.

Now. There's too much blood here. Move it away, just a little at a time...

Simplest to nudge it back along the gash in bone and flesh, so the scent of copper dripped hot and raw to the floor mats. Okami was going to be so angry with him.

Better. I think.

Hold the rhythm.

This was the tricky part, after all; adding just a little of his own energy, to encourage the ki within this man to mend itself. Just a feather-stroke of hope, and good will, and the calm patience of watching clouds blow through an autumn-blue sky, sealing cell to cell until vessels and brain were whole once more...

Hands were over his, a bright light to his shadow. He blinked, taking in the stunned look on the Choushuu doctor's face, before professionalism took over and the healer bent back to his patient.

Not my problem anymore. Good. Rising, he settled back into a corner to meditate; books at his side, 'saber against his shoulder.

"Ahem."

He blinked, seeing that the candle had burned down an hour and more. "He's alive."

"Yes, he is." Surprise, in the doctor's tone, tempered by caution. "In a day or two, he should be fit to fight again."

Good. One on one, Choushuu's forces were a match for any of the Shogunate's - but with those forces outnumbering theirs ten to one, they needed every warrior they had. Samurai or not.

"A few hours more, and - well, he might have lived. But he'd never have held a sword again." The doctor regarded him warily, one hand on the trance-caught man's chest. "He's much improved. But I'd rather not move him tonight."

"Then leave him." Closing amber eyes, he settled back against the wall.

Hesitation. A ripple of unease in bright ki. "Don't you even want to know his name?"

"It doesn't matter."

The fusama slid back, and the doctor's light stepped through the doorway. And paused. "Kamiya Koshijirou."

---------------

Kamiya Koshijirou.

Obi-Wan felt himself waking, and gritted his teeth, grabbing for strands of Force-touched dream. Not yet. Not yet! Please, I just want to know...

His eyes flew open, as books fell away from his hand.

His... very small... hand.

What in the worlds?

Breathing felt different. The Force itself felt different; a rainbow of playful winds, instead of the sunlit meadow he was used to. Everything glowed.

And he was standing in a night-quiet Kyoto inn, by a samurai in healing trance, breathing the copper scent of blood.

This isn't real. It's still a memory. I think.

He walked to the side of a man who'd been dead half a year, watching his breath rise and fall. Yes... yes, he could see echoes of Kaoru in Koshijirou's face. Especially the stubborn lines.

Three guesses where she gets her temper from. Obi-Wan shook his head, starting at the slap of long hair against his shoulder. Battousai hadn't noticed it; the ronin tail of hair was as much a part of that shadowed warrior as his own padawan braid had been, once.

Eerie feeling. He caught scarlet-and-crimson strands between kote-gloved fingers, wondering just what he'd managed with that plea to the Force...

Just let it happen. If there are answers, they will come. Ametrine leather peeled back under his searching fingers, exposing an unscarred palm. So. This is before Ulloriaq-

Something hummed outside the balcony screen.

His heart clenched. I know that sound.

He pushed the screen aside, and stepped into a corridor parsecs away, lit by the red glow of energy gates.

Naboo. This is where Qui-Gon...

Face still streaked with tears, a grim padawan stepped out of the shadows.

Obi-Wan let out a deliberate breath. "You saw."

"I did not think a Jedi could lose to a Sith." The voice was his own, from all those decades ago. Yet the tilt of the head, casting the padawan braid back, was... familiar, and different, at once.

That's what Yamagata saw, Obi-Wan realized. Years and worlds apart - we are still like one another.

"Yet for one moment, fighting to save the master you loved - you were not Jedi, were you?"

Force Rage. He'd used it, that frantic minute before he'd been kicked into the pit; let the Dark Side flow through him, in a desperate attempt to match the creature that had just torn the heart from his universe. "Not one of my finest moments, no."

"You were reckless." Haunted eyes fixed on him, worry and anger smoldering through the Force. "Would you take a boat built for Lake Biwa into the teeth of a typhoon? The Darkness could have swallowed you!"

Obi-Wan felt a hint of annoyance; tried to release it. Not so easy, wrapped in this form that was and wasn't Battousai's. The Living Force pulled at him like sea-sparkles in the tide; constant flashes of look! Look! Here, there, now, life, change! "And you have a boat fit for typhoons, do you?"

"No! No one does. No one who hopes to use ki, and stay sane." The padawan-who-wasn't stepped nearer. "But a ship built for the sea, and rough sailing - yes, that I have. So if the typhoon strikes, I may ride it, and hope to survive. You Jedi-" A frustrated fist by his side. "You dive in, when all hope is lost. And you drown."

"True," the Jedi admitted. "Though I haven't drowned yet. I-" Ow. He touched fingers to his left cheek, brought them away a startling crimson. But... this is a memory, why-

"You don't know how to dreamwalk." Familiar hands were holding him as he wavered, blue-green eyes wide, sick with realization. "It is an onmitsu skill, you would not know it..."

Obi-wan swallowed, feeling the corridor turn misty and surreal. "It hurts." A wound not in the flesh, but the Force; the frail threads he'd gripped slipping from his hold, tearing-

"Stay."

Fingers against his wounded cheek, radiating healing through the Force. Obi-Wan leaned into them gratefully, opening himself as he would to any Temple medic. It is not just the will of the healer who works, a Jedi Healer's voice scolded from long ago. It is the will of the patient, to be healed; to accept the will of the Force, and encourage light when all seems cast into darkness...

The pain was gone. Obi-Wan risked a glance up, into familiar, haunted eyes. Was that what I looked like, after?

So much grief here. For both of us.

Which truly wasn't fair. This was just a place. Even if it was a memory. It didn't deserve their pain.

So make a new memory, baka.

Good advice - whomever it was. "How long has it been since you've sparred?"

The other blinked at him. "You should not stay here. Not long-"

"One bout doesn't take long. Does it?" He let his eyes narrow, wondering what it looked like. Rather alarming, if the Choushuu reaction was any clue. "Or are you afraid?"

The low snap-hiss of a 'saber set to training strength was his only warning.

Even in a dream, he's careful not to hurt me...

Amber met blue.

Ataru, Obi-Wan thought, in the moments between strikes. No. Not quite. Oh, the acrobatics were there; the full-fledged whirlwind of death and destruction Master Yoda had once unleashed on Dooku. But it flowed differently; the Force filling his opponent not just for speed and strength, but for attunement to his surroundings so fine, it would have felt a mote of dust falling out of place.

And it went through Makashi like the form wasn't even there.

He's so fast-

Obi-Wan fell back into Soresu, feeling his soul fumble at the form he'd barely used in decades. Felt his opponent hesitate, considering the new style-

And smile.

Gone!

No, not gone, feel the Force, think-

Blue crashed against amber, a bare inch from his throat. Obi-Wan whirled in what should have been a disarm, that suddenly wasn't, as Battousai used that lightning speed to be elsewhere.

Across the corridor, blue cutting out in a formal bow to end the match. Face still grave, but eyes...

Laughing.

I can feel it.

Obi-Wan let his own smile slip out, stretching into that odd sense of warmth. Of belonging.

A warmth that turned to startled surprise, and a sudden sense of, oh no-

Battousai was gone.

The corridor was gone.

And in that brief instant before Obi-Wan opened his eyes to Kaoru's dojo, and felt shields slammed down that could have stopped Mace Windu cold-

Here, sang a cord of the Living Force. Here, here, here!

Love you.

In the thin light before dawn, Obi-Wan grinned.

And - very deliberately - drifted into a meditation that would let him be completely oblivious to the sound of someone pounding his head against a handy wall.

---------------

Chest-wraps, gi, hakama, obi, move! Kaoru tore out into the golden dawn, feet thudding on wood, then crunching on gravel, as she bolted for the front gate. The Force was beating at her like butterfly wings - or maybe that was just panic. Just enough time, just enough, keep moving, turn, swing!

Thwack.

"Oro..."

"And where do you think you're going?" Kaoru demanded, trying to get her breath back as Kenshin wobbled in the path, rubbing his head. "More ninja? Somebody else looking for Megumi?" A thought struck, chilling her to the bone. "Yamagata?"

"No!" But violet eyes were wild and panicked as if the battle-lord were standing in her courtyard this minute, with blasters set to kill. "No, one would have sensed him, he is not near - forgive, Kaoru-dono. One has to go. Now." He moved for the gate.

Kaoru side-stepped to block him, 'saber raised and ready. "Go? Where? For how long?" Though from the sick feeling in her gut, she knew how long. He has his bag packed. He's not coming back. "Why?"

The red head was shaking, hands raised and empty, trying to shove her questions - and her 'saber - aside. "Kenobi-san is too close. One can't let him stray closer. Forgive this one, Kaoru-dono, but you will be safe with him. And Yahiko-kun needs your teaching. One isn't needed here. One has to go."

Kaoru saw red. Oh no you don't, jerk! You're not going anywhere until I get an explanation-

Hand met hand.

It's... singing...

Like starlit winds, in the quiet before dawn. Calm, and peace, and familiar in the way only home could be.

She was brushing away another's tears, as they both knelt on hard gravel.

"One has to go," Kenshin whispered.

Kaoru swallowed dryly. "I didn't want Yahiko, either. Not at first."

"But..."

"Half a year, I've been alone in my head," Kaoru pressed on. "It hurt, but I was used to it. It was easier to hurt. Because if I let him in, if I let myself care - then I could hurt all over again. And I didn't - didn't want to hurt that way, ever again..."

Red shoulders were hunched. The violet gaze would not meet hers. "Kaoru-dono knows why this one must go."

"No," Kaoru said softly. "No, I don't. Jedi forgive, Kenshin. I know Ulloriaq didn't... but she Fell. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

Misery hung about him like bitter fog. "Kaoru-dono..."

"And you promised."

A startled flinch.

"Yahiko told me, last night," Kaoru pressed on. "I don't know whether to kiss you for being honorable, or hit you over the head for being an idiot, or yell at you because knowing you, you probably think you can just pull it off and run if he figures it out - but you promised." Bracing herself, she looked him in the eye. "So. As assistant master of this dojo, I'm telling you: this is what you're going to do. You're going to borrow that crystal from Obi-Wan. You're going to take it to a spring and see if you can make a match to it-"

"But-"

"Whatever you do is going to be easier if the crystal's right there, you know that," Kaoru ran over his protest. "You're going to do the best you can, and then you're going to bring Obi-Wan's focus crystal back to him. Not slip it under the gate, not pass it off to me or Sano - bring it right back to him. Understand?"

The redhead managed a stunned smile. "Hai, Kamiya-sensei."

"Good." Kaoru took a step back, pulled shreds of dignity around her long enough to nod. "You've already got your travel gear packed, so... wait right there." Turning on her heel, she marched back to the house.

Good. He's meditating.

I'm going to have an awful time explaining this when he comes out of it...

Kaoru tore through the tansu at the end of the room, digging through off-world gear until she found faceted, milky white. Not like any crystal I ever saw used. But it feels right. And if Obi-Wan thinks it'll work- She shrugged, and wrapped her prize in soft cloth.

Marching back to the shell-shocked rurouni, she thumped the bundle into his hands. "So what are you doing still hanging around here?"

Shaking his head, Kenshin slipped out into the morning.

Did I do the right thing? Please let me have done the right thing.

The Force was quiet. But it felt like a good quiet. She hoped.

On the engawa behind her, a throat cleared. "I presume there's a good explanation."

"Oh, is there ever." Marching up to the step, Kaoru planted her fists on her hips and gave Obi-Wan a long, sideways look. "We're going to have a talk about family bonds, and your brother, and what Fireryo are willing to do to keep their ariitu's honor, and skittish idiot redheads." Serenity. Peace. Breathe it. Be it. "After breakfast."

---------------

"Oh kami. We're doomed." Yahiko swallowed, cringing at what his nose was telling him. "She cooked."

"Come now," Obi-Wan said under his breath, reaching for one of the lumpy bean-cakes on the tray. "Surely it can't be that..." Lump near his nose, he sniffed. "Oh dear."

Gritting his teeth, Yahiko bit into the mealy mass, and gnawed away. He'd eaten worse on the streets, working for Tanishi, sometimes. Lots worse.

Obi-Wan bit into his own breakfast, face carefully blank. "Hmm." Chewed, and swallowed. "...Interesting texture."

"You don't have to be polite about it," Kaoru grumbled, face falling as she nibbled her way through her own share of the bean-cakes and scorched kokumotsu. "I can't cook. Why do you think Megumi went off with Gensai-sensei this morning?"

"Why, to examine his clinic's facilities, of course," Obi-Wan shrugged. "As any good doctor should, when given the opportunity to learn from a more experienced practitioner. Now that she's free to walk the streets, she should stock the Sekihoutai's infirmary properly, not simply with whatever supplies its pilots can liberate at random." Seeing her disbelieving eyebrow climb, the Jedi smiled. "I reserve undeserved flattery for politicians, Kaoru. And hope I don't meet too many of them."

"Now you really sound like Kenshin."

Catching his teacher's gaze, Yahiko furtively shook his head. No, bad idea, don't-

"He knows, Yahiko."

"He... does?" Yahiko gulped, worry turning the taste in his mouth to ashes.

Which was kind of an improvement.

"So, um-" chew, slurp, "you know, and, ah-" the boy sawed his teeth on a particularly overcooked lump of grain, gulping it down with tea, "-no slicey?"

Obi-Wan's sigh was all patient exasperation. "I did not dig into a Grand Moff's secure files, cross half a galaxy, and nearly get myself killed by a disease I didn't know existed, simply to cut down a rather benign Force-user due to a twenty-year-old lapse in judgment." He didn't quite roll his eyes. "Force knows I'd be dead now, by that standard."

"Benign?" Kaoru said numbly.

"Hitokiri Battousai?" Yahiko added, eyes wide.

"There have been Jedi assassins before."

Yahiko stared at him.

Obi-Wan sighed again, softer this time. "I grant you it's not something the Order liked to admit," he acknowledged, meeting Kaoru's disbelieving gaze. "We prefer to be known as peacemakers. Guardians of peace and justice. But there were occasions, in particularly brutal disputes, and when Sith are suspected... at times, there simply are no good options. For the good of all involved, for the best way to peace - sometimes, it is most effective to remove one creature standing in the way."

Kaoru swallowed dryly.

"It was never done unless other reasonable options were exhausted," Obi-Wan went on. "It was rarely done, ever - there are very few Jedi who can assassinate a sentient being, even once, and not have the Dark Side drag them down. I don't know if Kenshin is incredibly strong-willed, or simply lucky. But he is not the first Force-user I have met who walked of his own will into the shadows, and managed to stumble back out again." He looked away, into memory. "I've no way of knowing if Quinlan Vos is even still alive. But if you met him... I believe you would know him. Their signature in the Force feels very much alike. And Quinlan is Jedi." A faint smile crossed his face. "Though he'd tell you he's not a very good one."

"Kenshin's not Jedi," Kaoru said bluntly.

"So he's told me," Obi-Wan nodded. "Still. I believe he's not so different as he may think. He's skilled, efficient, self-sacrificing, modest... well, mostly modest. Assuming every trap is laid for him is more than a bit arrogant..." He stopped, and regarded their disbelieving stares. "Should I take it there was more than one reason Uramura asked that we warn him the next time we take drastic action, so he might withdraw his men in advance?"

"More than one?" Yahiko blurted. And he says Kenshin's a little arrogant? "What did you do to the Empire?"

"Err..." The Jedi smiled weakly. "Well, that would be a rather long and boring story."

Kaoru reached for her bokken.

"All right, it would be a very long story," Obi-Wan amended. "Suffice it to say Vader has at least as high a price on my head as Saigo has on Kenshin's. Precisely how dangerous is Kenshin? Uramura seems to believe he could handle a fully-trained Jedi... well, we've seen the evidence that he did handle a fully-trained Fallen Jedi, but Ulloriaq had already faced Okita Souji and who knows who else that night."

"My mother said-" Kaoru hesitated. Swallowed. "From everything she could put together, he was at least as good as Master Cin Drallig. And faster."

"Who?" Yahiko muttered.

"Our lightsaber instructor in the Temple. He was a master of six of the seven forms; even at my best, he'd score off me more often than I liked." Obi-Wan was silent a long moment. "That good."

Kaoru took another deep breath. "And I doubt Master Drallig used Force Lightning."

"...Stars, no."

"People say he set half of Toba Fushimi ablaze." Kaoru held up a hand to ward off questions. "I don't know about that. 'Tousan wouldn't talk to me about the war, so I'm telling you what Gensai-sensei says he said. And that was, the battle lasted three days. The Ishin Shishi were outnumbered at least three to one. And they still won."

"Three to one, with samurai on both sides," Obi-Wan said frankly.

"And a lot of Shogunate samurai were better trained than Choushuu," Kaoru said, just as frank. "The Shinsengumi... people say Hitokiri Battousai met Saitou Hajime on the battlefield there, and the sky caught fire. Lightning. Lightsabers. Thunderclaps. Tornadoes. There were craters there, after."

"Met?" Obi-Wan lifted a curious brow. "Not killed?"

"I don't know," Kaoru said honestly. "There are lots of rumors... you should ask Megumi. She's from Aizu. Which is where the Shinsengumi survivors went after Toba Fushimi," Kaoru added belatedly, taking in the Jedi's blank look. "They held out a long time against the Imperialists. And they're still paying for it today. Governor Meiji doesn't like that han at all."

"Flowchart," Obi-Wan was muttering, knuckling his forehead as if to scour away a headache. "This planet should come with a flowchart, I swear."

"Oh! Right!" Kaoru shot to her feet. "Ai!"

"Kaoru's favorite book-lender," Yahiko filled in at the Jedi's curious glance. "She's coming around this neighborhood today. She likes to show up here right after lessons-"

"Not today! You two are going out to catch her early. I've got a list. And Ai said she finally tracked down a copy of Footprints!" Kaoru enthused. "You should read it too, Yahiko; it's great for practicing your Basic. I know it's old, but since it shows how off-worlders in the Republic saw Yamato, it's good for figuring out some of why the government deals with the Empire the way they do today."

Obi-Wan gave her an intrigued look. "Am I to understand that you asked Ai to track down a book for me?"

"Of course! As soon as I knew who you were," Kaoru said brightly. "It just took awhile. There aren't a lot of copies around. The book's about sixty years old, after all. And even if it wasn't... well, people don't always want their neighbors to know they were reading something written with the assistance of Jedi archaeologists."

"With-?" Obi-Wan sat up straight. "You said you'd read works on this planet written by Republic archaeologists..."

"Well, not all of them were Jedi." Kaoru grinned. "And this is the best book. Footprints of Mandalore. By Drs. Mori and Sain Kenobi."

Obi-Wan was quiet for hours after that.

So here they were now, the noise of students hacking their way through lessons streets behind them, as Yahiko poked through Ai's wheeled carryall for the rest of Kaoru's list and Obi-Wan held a decades-old holobook as if it were spun glass. "Footprints of Mandalore," he murmured under his breath. "Yamato as Tri-Species Isolate. Space. No shoes in the house, adopting into bloodlines, look an honorable man in the eye, even Sano's bad language... Mando'a. Mutated by a few thousand years and a few other races, but... and there's almost no armor here, yet... Star's End, you're Mandalorians! How did I end up on a planet of...?"

"He always talk to himself like that, Yahiko-kun?"

Yahiko grinned at Ai. Hard not to; the matronly bookseller had a sharp eye for the best book to snag an interested customer, and an even sharper grasp of when to stop talking and simply flip to an interesting print when somebody got bored with big words. "Only when he's confused."

"A gaijin ronin?" Ai rolled her eyes. "How much more confused can you get?"

"He probably heard you," Yahiko sing-songed.

"So?" Clogs clattering on the pavement, Ai studied her bemused customer. "Kenobi Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?" the Jedi said warily.

Ai pulled a cloud-blue envelope from between two books, giving it one last appreciative sniff before handing it over. "A bright little bird saw that you'd meet me today."

"Saw?" Carefully breaking the perfumed seal, Obi-Wan drew out an ataru folded from creamy paper, regarding it with appreciative eyes before he unfolded it to read graceful ink-strokes.

"You lucky man," Ai sighed happily. "Somebody loves you."

"Actually, I suspect it's a declaration of war." Obi-Wan lifted his gaze to meet Yahiko's, deeply troubled. "I've been invited to the One Promise. Two hours from now. For flower-viewing and tea... whatever that may mean. I don't suppose you know?"

Yahiko gulped.

Ai cackled.

"...Oh dear."

---------------

He came. Taimatsu Ran, known to the world as Koubai, surfaced from her meditative trance to the sense of light ki, and the soft slide of her apprentice opening the screen in a perfect kata of maiko movement. I knew he would.

"It is good to see you, Oniisan," Namiji said brightly, rising to complete the kata. "My honored elder sister is about to begin tea."

"A token, for the gentle lady," Kenobi murmured, offering a single bloom of hanabi with a bow casual eyes might have taken for perfect.

Too deep for Namiji-chan, and too shallow for me, Koubai thought critically, as her apprentice accepted the red and gold blossom, placing it in a shallow dish of water. But it could be worse. Clean, neat, presentable, and he knew enough to ask advice on an appropriate token. The hanabi is in season, and well favored for we of Yoshiwara; and he brought but one bloom. Appropriately discreet.

Still, he is gaijin. If he is to pass unnoticed, he will need more than that. Yamagata was wise to ask for my assistance.

Not that Yamagata would ever have asked, of his own impulses. That had taken an evening's worth of skill, to influence by word and sigh and flicker of smile alone, without ever resorting to ki a samurai would detect. The skill and art of a kunoichi... and a geisha.

The one you know, and are well-skilled to deal with, Koubai thought, smoothing her robes as she sat, if your history of encounters with Dark Jedi is anywhere near the truth. But the other?

We shall see.

First, the peace of tea.

---------------

She is... exquisite.

Obi-Wan sat seiza, watching graceful, gold-hued hands whisk powdered green to a light froth, Gensai's hasty advice a frantic murmur in the back of his head. A fresh, not-quite-sweet scent wafted through the air; tea, of a higher grade than the Kamiya dojo could afford on their best days, blended with just a hint of protective hashima as guest-courtesy.

And this should be courtesy, not entertainment, the Jedi thought, keeping a frown of concentration off his face. Gensai said that here in Yoshiwara, these are the hours of teaching. If we were alone, it might be paid company - but Namiji is here.

Seated demurely off to the side in her patterned robe of sky-blue and cherry-pink, watching her mistress' movements with learning eyes. Though from that graceful performance at the door, Obi-Wan would imagine the girl was well-qualified to perform this ceremony herself.

Perfect movements; to open the screen, move aside, greet the guest. Practiced. Patterned. A moving meditation. Like the tea.

He'd lay odds most who saw it would never know the time it took to gain such mastery, nor care. Yet he could feel the Force moving with it, subtle and inexorable as the tide.

I begin to see why Gensai thought this trip so dangerous.

Yet it was hard to see the danger, looking over the comb of starry blue flowers set into Koubai's two-toned Firrerreo hair; night-black, with thick rivers of gold, twisted up and back from a white-painted face. Harder still, looking into the embroidered emerald eyes of the kitsune leaping across the left side of Koubai's twilight-hued kimono; a white, five-tailed creature with a look of pure delight on its vulpine face, paws spread wide to toss a ball of blue fire.

Hands unpainted, while the face is white as snow, Obi-Wan thought. Shironuri, Gensai had called it, with a sidelong glance at memories of younger days. Mask the face, mask the identity; bring the role to forefront, not the individual. As Naboo's Queens did.

Face, shoulders, neck; all of her exposed skin he could see above the kimono was pearl-white, save for penciled black brows and lips red as blood. Lips that bent in a gentle bow of concentration, as Koubai set self aside to perform the perfect ritual of tea.

Pure water. Old earthenware. Powdered green, stirred to froth with a light whisking, inhaled, and sipped. Each movement practiced, precise, delicate and confident at once.

I am in the presence of a Master.

Who means to teach her apprentice something.

Oh, I have a bad feeling about this...

---------------

Apprehension stirred the perfect peace of tea.

Gaijin fool. This is time to reflect...

But Koubai was geisha, and the irritation passed over her like water. Her guest was watching, mindful as Namiji. Ki still about him as a snowfield, in the quiet before dawn.

You see not a woman, but a graceful opponent.

Good.

Koubai calmed and centered herself again, as Namiji stored ceremonial tea items away and brought out a more bracing pot. A platter of sweets appeared as if by magic; appropriate enough for a learning afternoon, even if it would be frowned on at a true entertainment, where only guests ate. "You have made Yamagata-san very nervous."

Obi-Wan watched her pour for him, poured cups for his hosts with only a slight lift of Koubai's painted brow to prompt him. "I assure you, I never intended to."

"He doesn't know what you intend," Koubai mused. "Which makes him all the more nervous." She regarded him with an honest smile, still amused by the pure turmoil she'd felt from the officer who believed he had planned everything. Ah, delightful chaos. It does keep us employed. "Do you know?"

"Honored lady," Obi-Wan's smile was warm, and almost as wry, "I suspect that would be telling."

Ah! A worthy foe. It touched even the anger at her core, soothing its rough edges. And a dangerous one.

He didn't look dangerous, which made it all the more interesting. Either he'd lucked out, or someone was advising him; the greens and browns of his clothing were appropriate to a poor but tasteful samurai, not a man of power. Certainly not one of the noble fools she all too often had to entertain lately.

Fools who would degrade geisha to courtesan, and worse than that...

Calm. Focus. Darkness brought power, true - but that power had to be tamed. Controlled. Unleashed only when there was a target worthy of destruction.

This off-worlder is not that target. Yet.

He expected to be; she could feel it, in wary eyes on her, the careful calculation of the quickest routes out of the building. Not excluding the roof, if that delicate probe of ki at the tiles above was any indication.

Be a leaf on the water. Wind will come soon enough.

She let stillness hang between them a moment, then dipped her head to acknowledge the shift in subject. "Soon now, the Emperor will be dead."

Sea-green latched onto her gaze, breath quickening.

Ah. Now that I have your attention...

"Soon, of course, is relative," Koubai went on, matching the Jedi stare for stare. "It may be five years. Or ten. Or twenty. But those who use dark ki have roamed Yamato as long as all our people can remember. We know sorcerers when we see them... and we know sorcery's cost. The Emperor has drunk too deeply of the Darkness, and it will devour him. Eventually.

"And when it does - his apprentice is more machine than man. I doubt he will long outlive his master. A few more years, he might rule, perhaps. A few more months, is more likely.

"And we of Yamato... we can wait."

---------------

Wait.

Wait for the Emperor to die.

Wait for Vader's own use of the Dark Side to destroy him.

The thoughts tumbled through Obi-Wan's soul like chips of frozen atmosphere, chilling all they touched.

The way of the Jedi is patience...

"No." He barely voiced it; still, it stiffened his spine. "No, you did not see... Alderaan is gone, my lady. And while the Rebellion has destroyed the Death Star, the very fact that the Empire has obliterated one planet will whet their appetite for more. That hunger to devour-"

He stopped, hearing Namiji's gasp, feeling Koubai's shock ripple through the Force. "Gone?" the geisha whispered. "But... Alderaan was a peaceful planet. They had no weapons. They were no threat!"

She's truly shocked. What does an Outer Rim woman know of Alderaan? "They had Bail Organa. Who was a very great threat, indeed." His knuckles were pale, clenching on his hakama; with an effort, Obi-Wan released innocent fabric. "He was a Senator. One of the few in the last days of the Old Republic to hold to what the Senate was intended to be. And he taught his daughter likewise; to uphold law, and justice... and to remember the Jedi who once championed them both." He lifted his gaze to hers. "Justice deferred is justice denied, my lady."

White-painted shoulders were stiff under glimmering kinu. Striped lashes lowered a moment as Koubai breathed slowly out...

Releasing fury to the Force? Fury, and... pain. She did have ties to Alderaan. How?

Demure again, the geisha met his eyes. "But if one does not survive long enough to deal that justice, all is lost."

You truly want me to believe you have no ill intent? Obi-Wan lifted a skeptical brow. "I was under the impression this was a time for teaching..."

"For you." Koubai's smile was sweet, promising everything and nothing; red lips barely parted over black-pearl fangs... that could snap a humanoid's spine, if his half-remembered lessons of Firrerreo were accurate. "Yamagata-san has arranged it. If you will live among samurai, whatever your intent, all of us are safer if you do not draw... undue attention." She let one brow climb slightly. "That is just, is it not?"

"Of course," he acknowledged. Blast. Trapped - and neatly so. How much had these folk learned from Ulloriaq, before she Fell? A Jedi might well sacrifice himself to accomplish a mission, but innocents, civilians - they had to be protected, whenever possible.

Even if some of those civilians have touched the Dark Side?

Even if. There might be sorcerers across Yamato, as Koubai said - but most of their fellow Yamatoans were innocent. This world did not deserve Alderaan's fate.

And it would have that fate, should the Emperor learn of these people. Or worse.

"We will begin," Koubai stated, rising, "with a proper bow."

---------------

Introductions. Partings. Proper turns of phrase to address a superior, or inferior, or comrade. The way to sit, or pass a dish, or properly eat: hand cupped around the bowl, instead of a peasant's grip under it; chopsticks to the side of the mouth, never pointing directly in.

So a blow to the hand will not shove pointed weapons down one's own throat, or throw boiling soup in one's face...

Koubai set that thought aside, burying it with the wail of grief that wanted to rise from her throat. Alderaan, and one of the few gaijin she might have called friend, gone-

Calm. Focus on the goal.

Here and now, that was the fast-filling gaps in her student's knowledge. In truth, he seemed to know altogether too much of this already, for a gaijin who'd only been on the planet a few weeks. Childhood memories, perhaps? Though that accent of his, Kyoto on top of backwoods-

Oh. She hid a delighted smile, edged like the pain in her heart, covering it with cool phrases of advice on guest-gifts. Oh, how very, very interesting.

You've found him. Yamagata thinks you don't know... but you do.

And you haven't killed him.

Perfect.

---------------

This woman should be instructing the Empire's Diplomatic Corps, Obi-Wan thought wryly, helping her unwrap the multi-layered, black-and-mother-of-pearl lacquered box Namiji had brought out for them. She certainly knows how to cover social ground quickly. I've never seen anyone who could perform impressions of so many different kinds of people, with only a gesture and change of accent... shells?

Shells, indeed. Flat, paired types, of a myriad subtly different shades and sizes. Some had painted designs inside, some did not. Yet all, as Namiji and Koubai knelt to help him spread them over the floor mat, felt ever so faintly of the Force.

Neither Dark, nor Light. They feel more of competition. And... laughter? "This is a game?"

"Matching, Oniisan," Namiji smiled, spreading a last handful like sabacc cards.

"Quite fun when sober. Though if you're playing this in most samurai gatherings, your companions are likely already seeing double." Fangs glinted black in a wry grin. "Not that seeing helps. The object is to move past the outer decoration, and match the essence within. The faster the better." Poised, her hands hovered over creamy shell. "And Obi-Wan?"

Seeing within... your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them... game and status, to judge your comrades' strength in the Force...

Koubai's dark eyes were lit with glee. "Anything you use is fair."

Her hands dove.

Calm. Center. You do not move; the Force moves, and carries your hand with it...

Light. Shadow. A gurgle of freshwater clinging to one shell's memory, a susurration of tidal flat to another, a hiss of saltwater to yet another. Subtle variations, blending together in joyful chorus.

Near, near, near - mine!

The separated pairs called out to each other; whispers and giggles of near-match and far-match and here!

A song, Obi-Wan thought, separated from himself as their three pairs of hands sorted the scattered shells. And the more we match, the more it changes.

As the lone shells grew fewer, their impressions became fainter. More deceptive. Taunting, if shells could taunt; demanding the utmost concentration to sort even as the chorus of matched pairs grew louder, more insistent.

Can't find us, can't find us, can't!

Shell in his left hand, his right landed on-

Koubai's.

Demurely, she turned her hand upward, shell creamy against golden skin.

Manners, Obi-Wan told himself firmly, calming his breathing. When had it quickened? "I concede, my lady." He dropped his shell atop hers, bowing subtly. "The game is yours."

"Not by much," Koubai murmured, eyeing the piles by them. Namiji's was smallest, but respectable; his own, at least a few pair shy of Koubai's. "Blood calls to blood, after all. A little time to gain the skill, and you would be a valuable player, indeed."

He wiped away a hint of sweat. It's not that hot in here, is it? "I don't quite follow."

"You should." Her smile was full, and open, and eerie as a deserted moor. "Don't you know why Yamagata seeks your kinsman so desperately?"

The paint... isn't everywhere, Obi-Wan realized suddenly, eyes drawn by the white curve of Koubai's neck to the unpainted V at the golden nape. There's a living woman under there... why am I even thinking that?

"Hitokiri Battousai. The Demon of Kyoto. The finest swordsman the Revolution ever saw... possibly even better than the best of your order."

She knows.

"And yet, skills with a blade are not what Yamagata fears most. Just as the Confederacy - and the Emperor as well, did he have less arrogance and more wisdom - feared one certain General most."

She knows!

"They tried to kill him," Koubai mused, eyes down and demure. "Assassins. Traps. Overwhelming numbers of forces. Yet he always survived. As Battousai has always survived. For no matter how desperate the fight, how much even his own allies may fear him, when the winds of battle begin to swirl about him..."

No. She can't mean...

"Battousai... and those of Battousai's blood... seem to have a certain gift at forming ki-bonds." Dark eyes rose to his. "No matter how hard the Imperialists were pressed, how many losses their forces took - those around Battousai would not break."

The ghosts of old battlefields rose about Obi-Wan; of countless Jedi falling in behind his lead, certain without words that he led them in the will of the Force. Of clone soldiers following him into what should have been hopeless situations, believing in him when all their training and experience should have demanded otherwise. Of a Corellian smuggler, not so long ago, believing in him when the man could not believe in Jedi...

Impossible!

"With ki, nothing is impossible. You should know that better than anyone." Her gaze held his like a magnet. "An army with Battousai in it will not break. Will not lose morale. Will not stop."

A weapon. That's all Kenshin is to Yamagata. A weapon too dangerous to let go...

"Such a rare gift, even with hashima to nurture it," Koubai breathed, hand warm on his.

When - when did she get so close? We're enemies - why is she so open? For she was, he could sense it; shields lowered to show all of her Darkness and Light. Like standing on a cliff, in the midst of storm, when wind and sea and lightning gave up pretending they were anything but what they were: strong, and unpredictable, and careless of unready human lives as stars.

"Any clan would value it."

Open. As Kenshin had been last night. Willing to let him reach out to her soul, and touch...

And he wanted to...

A hum seemed to ring in his ears, as if a lightsaber had ignited to chase the shadows. :Run, Obi-Wan! Run!:

---------------

Did he escape?

Please, gods, let him have escaped….

Breathing hard, Kenshin sank back into a crouch, leaning back against a thick cane of ebon bamboo to shake off that sense of other-fear, other-peril. Far-sight was not, had never been, his strongest ki-skill. His strength was the Living Force and the now; what-had-been and what-would-be were mere wisps, vanishing at his slightest touch.

:Comfort,: was licks of small tongues against his cheek. :Kin warned. Kin fled.:

Kenshin smiled wryly, scratching under :Leaf-snatch-in-autumn:'s chin, rubbing behind :Turns-stones:' ears, and letting a tumble of kits too small to give names to not-near-kin sniff his fingers. Kitsune understood more than most might think of humankind; especially kitsune who lived in city shadows, as this family did. But they were still other. If kit or kin were warned of danger, yet had not the time or chance or intelligence to flee… well, they were mourned, but life went on.

Obi-Wan's survived all these years since the Purge. I doubt one geisha will kill him.

At least, not this time. What had anybody been thinking, letting him go off to Yoshiwara alone in the first place?

They were likely thinking that I'd shown Obi-Wan enough the first time to get by, Kenshin thought ruefully. He couldn't blame Kaoru for the mistake. Her father would have introduced her to the parts of Yoshiwara a proper young girl should know… and likely some places she shouldn't, given a teacher was responsible for hauling her students out of embarrassing situations at need. But the full power of a true geisha's display….

They couldn't know. This is my fault. I'll have to fix it, when I return.

If there was anything left for him to return to. That second voice he'd heard, just for an instant, echoing his call to run-

A spirit. A strong one. Obi-Wan's strength is in the Unifying Force, like a miko. He's vulnerable-!

A small red paw planted itself on his shoulder; a half-grown kit who'd given no name, retractable claws kneading his gi. :Draws-the-killing-blade-:

"Kenshin," the rurouni murmured. :Heart-of-sword.:

Green eyes slitted, and two tails lashed, as the young kitsune looked toward Leaf-snatch. ::

:Draws-the-killing-blade,: the older female declared.

:Old name,: Kenshin argued, careful not to stare her down. :Worn out. Left behind.:

:Heart-name. Kitsune name.: The six-tailed female sniffed. :Fur wears out, kit. Blood and bone and breath wear out. Can't wear out your own soul.:

Kenshin tried not to wince. :Elder-:

She stared at him.

Mindful of his manners, Kenshin ducked his head. :Thank you for helping me reach-: He hesitated. :-My kin.:

:Kin helps kin. Kyoto-kitsune clans image well of you.:

Of course they would. Before he'd left his shishou's mountain, he'd been on good terms with every kitsune clan Hiko had ever met. Even as Katsura's assassin, he'd always found time to leave an offering for the local clans… and even in his darkest hours, Battousai had never killed an innocent kitsune.

:Do?: The half-grown one's dark nose pointed toward the steam rising from this hot spring on Tokyo's far outskirts, drawing in quick breaths of curiosity. :Want to see again!:

:Not a memory crystal,: Leaf-snatch pointed out. :Not easy. Especially for furless-kin.:

I think that was a challenge. Carefully, Kenshin spread out the cloth beside him again, looking over facets of pearl white, midnight indigo, and rich emerald. Both of these are close enough to sync with Kenobi's crystal. Both fit for a warrior, a Jedi. Yet - neither feels quite right.

The rurouni breathed out impatience, clearing his mind. Yes, Kenobi was a warrior. Yes, he was true and upright and all the galaxy's best tales of Jedi woven together. But what else was he?

Laughter, with two young girls and their winsome ataru.

Cool calculation, enduring the touch of Shadow that would save him.

A wry grin, in a dream of painful memory.

Desire and fear and the shock of a longing the man had never known, sensing a kunoichi's graceful snare threatening to close about him….

Holding hope to him, Kenshin reached out to the waters once more. Come.

---------------

Anou - "Um, er, well".

Ariitu - "Aliit"; clan, family, clan name.

Bakayarou - jerk, fool, idiot.

Busu - "ugly".

Fireryo - Firrerreo; a fanged, near-human species.

Furo - bath.

Gachou - goose; on Yamato, a Compy-like critter.

Kitsune - fox, fox-spirit; legendary shape-shifters who cast illusions and sometimes take human form.

Nogitsune - "field fox"; malevolent fox-spirit.

Oni no ko - demon child.

Oni - demon; on Yamato, a Derriphan. Derriphan (Sith, "devourer") are nightmarish creatures created from the Dark Side of the Force, capable of consuming the thoughts and experiences of living beings, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell. The beast enters the body of the creature to feed; once inside, the Derriphan possessed the individual as they leeched their essence. They appear as miniature black stars roiling with energy. The Derriphan were believed to have gone extinct during the time of the Great Sith War but it was later revealed that several survived and existed during the time of the Galactic Civil War.

Oniisan - "honored elder brother".

Shebusu - "shebs" - backside.

Tansu - storage chest.

Some words are of Mando'a origin.