There is a huge possibility that this will be the most uncomfortable one that I'll write. I was planning on doing this later, but I still don't have access to the manga and figured I should do something completely independent from it. So, you get this.

Warnings: prior others, weird slash-esque tension, subject that I've rarely ever written (this is mostly for the guy readers I know I have - I assure you, this will probably be the only one and it's weird and written at two in the morning). Also, some OOC. I'm aware of it. But don't worry, it works it's way out in the end.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: don't own anything you recognize.

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"The Unexpected Tragedy"

Truthfully, Saito Hajime doesn't know what to make of the kid.

It's been about a month and a half by now and their meetings have escalated from accidental to intentional. Planned. Over time, they begin to get more and more common and he starts to get uncharacteristically worried. Kenshin's thirteen, he said, and thirteen-year-olds are supposed to sleep. Then again, most people are and Hajime doesn't exactly sleep either. It's a problem he isn't working particularly hard on to fix. Much easier to take the night guard, crash during the day if he gets too tired because few conflicts happen before sundown anyway.

"You should be getting home soon," he tells Kenshin, who shrugs in answer. He does this a lot - nonverbal responses, refusing to even answer at the mention of 'home' or what goes on there. Who he lives with. What he does during the day. It's unfair because he knows so much about Hajime from rumors and the paper and yet offers nothing of himself. Even so, it bothers him less than it should; Kenshin is good company and Okita can actually sleep at night. "It's nearing two in the morning, Kenshin."

"No one notices that I'm gone," the kid says and their meetings have been getting longer too, "and I'm not tired. Besides, I'm with you so it's not like I'm wandering alone."

Long sentences like this are rare. "I won't always been around to protect you," he says. Kenshin gives a small, press-lipped smile before looking away in the direction of the river. No answer past that. It's frustrating and Hajime is starting to think he's a masochist for putting up with it. Or an idiot, maybe both. Yeah, that sounds about right. "I'm going back in about an hour."

A frown. "Half an hour?" he says, his strangely colored eyes the same shape as everybody else's but bigger. He sticks out in Kyoto - red hair like that, purple eyes that change color in the light which Hajime doesn't understand. He's short too, barely brushes his shoulder. Presumably he still has growing left in him.

There's an unspoken I like being here better, or at least he thinks there is. One of his talents has always been readying ki, but something about Kenshin makes it difficult. Foggy-like, almost, and it annoys him that he can't glean anything. Maybe that's why he meets up with him so often; not masochism, but curiosity. And, even more irritating, Kenshin seems to have a natural gift with it because many times he'll react before Hajime can say anything.

"Half an hour," he agrees like a fool and there's another small smile but it seems happier right now. It's not unusual, seeing a young person who doesn't know how to look happy. Especially Kenshin, he thinks, knowing the boy's history and all. And it doesn't take much deduction to figure out what he went through. How he looks is evidence enough. "Good enough for you?"

The redhead nods and pushes his hair from his face. Maybe it's because it's been so long since he's been with anyone, but this boy does something to him that just isn't all that good. He should cut him off, and he knows it.

But he keeps coming back anyway.

.

By this point, Hajime is around blood so often that he can recognize the smell of it before he even sees the source. So, really, it's no surprise that he detects Kenshin's injury the moment they meet. He's walking strange too, like his ribs are broken on his left side. He's also scowling, more upset then the older man has ever seen him.

"You're hurt," he says bluntly, crossing his arms, "and don't bother saying otherwise."

So the boy doesn't. Instead he answers, "It's not that bad," which is a lie and they both know it.

Fifteen minutes and a lot of bickering later, Hajime finally gets him to stand still as he examines his back. It looks like a blade made it, but not a traditional one. A knife found at home, maybe. Something with a serrated edge. It's badly patched up and Hajime always has medical supplies on him, so he wraps it in a way to help his ribs, too. There's dried blood on his cheek from the wound that will still bleeds randomly, and the upset look hasn't gone away.

Basically, Kenshin's a mess.

"Who did this?" he asks because the redhead has been injured so many times that he's started getting the suspicious that whoever looks after him is a little too friendly with sharp objects. He wants to ask, but he knows it would be an effort made in vain.

Kenshin moves and immediately cringes, entire body wracked with a single shiver. Instead of giving an actual answer, he looks at Hajime and says, "So, I'm sure you've noticed by now that there's something wrong with my eyes." Confused and concerned now, he nods. They're that color now and he can't blame it on the lighting. Then, shockingly, Kenshin proceeds to say the most he's ever heard at once when he continues, "Well, they turn that weird yellow color whenever I'm really stressed, though I don't know why. It's happened since I was a kid. And I've been having a really bad day, so on way home I guess they were that color - still are, probably - and I ran into this drunk man when I was taking a short cut and he screamed when he saw me and kept going on and on about how I'm some sort of demon and there were four others - I don't know. I didn't want anyone to see it, so I tried to fix it up myself but it didn't work."

I won't always be there to protect you.

He helps Kenshin slip his shirt on again, pretending not to see the second wince from the pain his ribs are causing him. He's littered with scars, most of which appear to be pretty old. On his back are incredibly faded lash marks that must be from when he was little and still - he shuts down the thought. It pisses him off to think about and Kenshin doesn't react well to anger. "Well, your back will be fine," he says, "but try not to stretch it. And I'm taking it that this wasn't the first time you've gotten that?"

There's a moment of silence. Then, "When I was a kid - as in, before the cholera - the area my village was located in experienced a drought. People in the village tried to blame my me, but my parents and brothers somehow managed to keep them away. I was two, I don't remember it all, but Taro and Osamu used to remind me about it if they wanted something." In the past few months that they've been meeting up, Kenshin's never spoken this much. Suddenly he looks down, face hidden by the hair but for once Hajime can feel his confusion. "I haven't thought about my family in years. Actually, I make an active attempt not to."

By now, Hajime knows what questions the boy will answer and what questions he won't and he thinks that "why?" will be one of the unanswered ones. "Why is your coloring like this?" he asks instead.

"One of my grandparents on either my mother's or my father's side was from a Western country," he answers and it isn't all that surprising. "Some place called Scandinavia."

How someone from Scandinavia ended up in Japan will be a mystery he puzzles out another time. "Interesting," he says because what else is there? "Now, I actually have to do something I was assigned earlier. Are you all right walking back by yourself?"

When he really thinks about, he's never invested this much energy into worrying about someone before, not even Okita who he sees as something of a younger brother (not that the younger man will ever find that out, but that's not the point). Then again, Okita actually goes past his shoulder and can defend himself, two very good qualities in terms of not worrying over someone. And, regardless, Hajime is an apathetic man by nature. He doesn't care much about killing and he doesn't care much about people, either.

Then this kid goes and sneaks his way into his life.

"I'm fine," Kenshin says, and pulls up the sleeve that's been falling off his shoulder. He's too skinny. "Thanks, though. You know, for this."

This is kept vague, so he'll just pretend it's for the bandaging. "Sure," he says and ruffles the kid's hair purely because he knows it annoys him. "Get going."

"Okay, okay."

.

"You're distracted, Saito-san."

Hajime glances sideways at Okita as they walk down the square, parading their brilliance. The shadow warfare of the Ishin-Shishi means that during the day, territories fade. If it was night, a fight would've taken place by now.

"I smell blood," he answers, though it isn't true. In reality he's looking for a familiar shock of red hair, but he doesn't catch a glimpse of Kenshin anywhere. And the boy's pretty hard to miss.

Though the younger man obviously doesn't believe him, he wisely keeps his mouth shut and Hajime's secret stays safe another day.

.

Kenshin's hands are shaking and his side is splashed with blood from walking straight into a kill. Hajime isn't sure who the attacker was - a soldier, an assassin, the Hitokiri Battousai that the rest of the Shinsengumi are still afraid of - but he died quickly and that's all that matters. Or that would be all that mattered if the killer wasn't skilled enough to land a hit and the kid hadn't walked into the alley at the same moment Hajime stabbed the man through the chest. He'd offer the boy a change of clothes, but they're too far away from his residence and that'd be harder to explain than the blood anyway.

"Right, all done," Kenshin says, handing back the role of bandages because he insisted on returning the favor instead of just letting Hajime do it himself. And honestly, the kid did a better job that he expected. "It doesn't hurt too bad, does it?"

In his worry, an accent is coming out that Hajime has never heard before. It's distinctly rural and the dialect is different too, not as well spoken as Kenshin normally is. It's one left over from childhood, he realizes, coming back suddenly. Despite the fact that he's obviously stressed, his eyes aren't doing the changing color thing that he's finally starting to understand and instead are locked into the purple color he's used to. Something's wrong.

"All sword wounds hurt," he answers, "but I'm used to it. You really think a Shinsengumi captain can't take a little cut?" Kenshin gives a sheepish sort of smile that Hajime's never seen before. He isn't sure why, but the boy's personality is as slightly changed as his accent. "Stand still."

Unlike last time, it takes no hassle for him to stop fidgeting. Hajime wipes the blood off his face and neck with the clean end of a sleeve. When he finishes, Kenshin says, "Better?"

"Yeah, you look a little neater," he says, trying to figure out why the boy's suddenly acting different and Hajime's even more concerned than his usual level of not-okay-with-this. Maybe it's because Kenshin's close enough for him to feel his body heat and catch the faint smell of rough soap through the overpowering stench of blood.

And he pretends that his heart rate isn't five times faster than normal.

.

Soon after, he genuinely begins to wonder if the boy isn't quite sane.

For the most part, it seems as if he's all right in the head. Unhappy and a little naive, yes, but still sane. Smart, quick to pick up on things. Sweet and caring, which makes Hajime feel like a woman even thinking it, but it's true. Kenshin's intelligent and mature enough to seem like an adult with a childhood innocence that makes him feel like an object of corruption.

Or he would, if it weren't for those other times when that innocence disappears. He'll be upset and scared with his hands at least chafed if not dripping blood or, less commonly, his small body littered with shallow blade wounds and speaking in ways that make no definable sense. There's a lack of continuity in the way that he says certain things or where his words are directed to because more than once it seems like Kenshin is talking to someone over his shoulder. Sometimes he'll talk a lot but other days he won't say anything at all and that other day everything from his accent to the way he held himself changed. And he's never quite sure what to do when a situation like this comes rolling by.

Like right now, for example.

The break begins midway through a conversation and he doesn't know what sets Kenshin off. All he knows is after some time passes of frustrated "I have been doing that"s and "The water was too hot"s and, worst yet, "I'm sorry" repeated over and over, he final gets, "I'm sorry for making you mad, I should leave," in a voice suddenly devoid of emotion.

The kid's movement is faster than Hajime expects and he opts out of just grabbing his arm to get him to stay here - rather, he grabs Kenshin from behind so his arms are pinned at his side. Touching isn't exactly something he's used to and his current feelings towards the boy make this scream of it being a bad idea, but he can't just let Kenshin run off on his own, unarmed, when he's only formed one coherent sentence since this...whatever it is started. And it's here that he discovers that a small body does not equate weakness. The boy's struggling and squirming take a lot more strength to restrain than Hajime had anticipated.

Dealing with half-insane teenagers is not something he's used to. "Calm down," he says because it seems right. "You aren't making any sense right now, Kenshin."

From this position, he can feel that Kenshin's heart rate is beating faster than is probably healthy. He can also feel that though the kid doesn't look very muscular with or without clothes, there's something there to make this so hard and there are calluses on his hand in the perfect placement for the hilt of a katana and Hajime is much too filled with adrenaline right now. He's noticing everything once, but maybe that's a good thing because it's stopping some more embarrassing reactions he could have to this.

Really, he needs a girlfriend. Or a prostitute. Because this isn't good.

Then the boy tries to twist around and though he doesn't succeeding of getting away, Hajime is greeted with the sight of narrowed amber eyes that, for a moment there, make him contemplate what it means to die. The sudden internal outburst of frightened and angry ki hits him delayed and it's that more than anything else that almost makes him let go.

But it's over as quick as it starts. All the energy and tension bleeds out of Kenshin's body and he becomes a shivering wreck in Hajime's arms. It happens so fast that he isn't sure if whatever that was is over, so he doesn't let go. When the boy looks up at him again, his eyes are back to their purple color and he seems dazed. More reluctantly than he'd like to admit, Hajime untangles from him. Neither move, and Kenshin's still shaking badly. He hovers, ready to catch him if he collapses. The number of times he's seen things similar to this with veteran members of the Shinsengumi is ridiculous.

Kenshin's hand goes to his head like it hurts and he looks around, confused. "Did I pass out or something?"

Hajime raises a brow and debates lying because he hasn't seen someone as young as thirteen have this happen before and since thirteen is two years from being a man and since many of his fellow Shinsengumi also work as sensei, he knows several young men Kenshin's age. Yet somehow Kenshin is the only one he still calls "boy," which makes him feel even dirtier. The redhead is so washed out that even his lips are colorless.

"No," he answers bluntly because lying won't do the kid any good. He's starting to get the impression that he doesn't know he's crazy, which is a problem. "We were talking about how you've never been to a festival and then started apologizing and saying something about the water being too hot because you've been do that already. I've never actually seen your eyes change color before."

If possible, his face becomes even paler. Then his knees buckle and Hajime catches him, turning him around and supporting him. Kenshin's heartbeat has slowed exponentially while his stays faster than normal and he hopes the kid doesn't notice. "I don't know," he murmurs against the fabric of the uniform. Rarely does Hajime show this much affection to a person and he's repulsed by himself. The boy falls forward a little, head resting against his shoulder and he suddenly realizes that he's been waiting for this movement.

Prostitute is faster, he thinks. This has only happened once before and all it took was a quick fuck to get it out of him. But he can't subject the boy to that. Something about the possibility feels distinctly taboo.

"Go home," he says tiredly, unable to deal with this right now because there's too much going on inside his head. "Go home and go to bed. I'll walk you close to the border if you want."

For maybe the third time ever, Kenshin agrees, though it's only a single nod against his chest. They're hugging, which is wrong on so many levels. But he waits a moment before letting go anyway. He walks the boy a few streets away from the border between the territories, and to Hajime's great surprise, thin arms quickly wrap around him one more time.

Then the kid is gone so fast he barely sees him.

.

Two days later he goes to the Red Light District. The sex is great, best he's had in years. But some divine power up there really must hate him, he decides.

It doesn't go away.

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One day Kenshin is upset and oddly desperate. He won't stop clinging and Hajime only has so much willpower.

So he does the least sensible thing possible and presses the kid against the brick wall of an alley, mouth connecting and surprisingly, the redhead reciprocates after a tense moment. He knows what he's doing which is scary and wrong but doesn't matter this moment has been haunting Hajime's dreams for weeks. Those eyes stay that dark amber color the entire time. It's sickeningly perfect and there are hands and body against body and very, very little noise.

When it's all said and done, the two decent again and as clean as they can manage, reality dawns on him and he says, "I'm sorry."

Kenshin looks up at him, eyes unchanged and his hair messy. "It's fine," he says, face unnervingly impassive. His voice is very quiet. "And...I'm sorry too. You're going to hate me soon anyway."

He blinks. "Wait - what?"

But the boy is gone already, away in the blink of the eye.

It still isn't out of his system.

.

They have six more meetings before it happens and they repeat that night three times. The third instance is instigated entirely by Kenshin and he's pretty sure there are tears involved when they split, though why he can't fathom. Even so, he takes it as a bad sign.

And then, curse his luck, he finds out why.

Okita comes running up to him one Thursday evening, cheeks flushed and breathing ragged. Hajime looks at him expectantly.

After he catches his breath, the younger man says, "We've gotten a partial description of the Battousai, Saito-san."

His insides run cold. This is a moment he's been waiting for but somehow he knows that it's wrong. "What is it?" he asks.

"I - I don't even know if it's real," answers Okita. "He's young, small. With red hair and yellow eyes. I don't think that's possible, but it's what we've heard. Dye, most likely."

He has a piece of paper conveniently in his hand and he crushes it. "Oh," he says, anger coming out much stronger than he intended, "it's not dyed."

"How do you know that, Saito-san?"

Since he can't answer the truth, he opts for, "I've seen him around," through a clenched jaw. "Whether he's armed or not, attack on sight. Tell the men. I'm going my guard duty early."

Okita's incredulous state isn't hidden in the slightest, but he doesn't question. "All right, Saito-san," he says, and turns to go inform the men.

Hajime goes in the opposite direction.

.

It only takes two hours. The earliness is his advantage and he skips the the normal meeting point, stalking the alleys near the location of many assassinations.

By the time he finds Kenshin, the victims are dead and he's staring at at the bodies. His back might be turned but Hajime can feel his fear and for a moment, anger is taken over by pity because now all those times the boy was upset make sense. He's insane. Whatever he's seeing can't be good.

But that isn't the point right now. Traditionally he won't attack a man from behind, but entranced or not, he knows the "great" Battousai won't let a silly little thing like psychosis stop him. And, as he thought, Kenshin - no, he can't be Kenshin, not anymore - turns with record speed. Attacking from behind gave him the advantage, though, and their swords connect rather the kill him. The force of the counterattack should be impossible.

Ken - Battousai's eyes are dark amber and all fear is replaced by pure killing intent. It's one of the most goddamn terrifying things Hajime has ever seen. But at the sight of who it is, the boy's eyes widen. He throws all his anger into his next attack and he's never missed until the moment Battousai dodges.

"I - I can explain!" says the redhead, blocking his next attack effortlessly, which only succeeds in pissing Hajime off even more.

He snaps, "Explain what exactly? That you've been playing innocent to me all this time. What have you been doing, passing on classified information to your leaders?"

He wishes he could feel a lie or nothing at all, but the truthfulness when Battousai says, "No! I never told anyone anything and I never lied to you, just left a lot of stuff out. I swear!" is undeniable.

"Omission is lying, Battousai," he practically growls, gritting his teeth and even though he's pushing harder than he has in a long time, the kid keeps on dodging. The famous hitokiri, nothing but a child. Oh, isn't that a nice little twist. "Why. Aren't. You. Attacking," he adds between blows, about ready to scream in frustration.

"I don't want to!"

You're going to hate me soon anyway, he said.

"You won't hit me."

But he will because he knows Battousai's little fears now and after being lied to for months, he feels no guilt in exploiting them. So he goes for the face head-on, forcing the boy to draw his sword again. Unfortunately, the attack is so fast it connects and Hajime has never felt so pathetic in his life. Here's a thirteen - or, no, fourteen-year-old boy landing a hit when he hasn't come close. His eyes go wide again. "I'm so sorry!" his adversary says, but the older man is now attacking relentlessly.

"Shut up, boy!"

Then he realizes that there's an opening on the left side of all of Battousai's attacks. He holds back a smile, aims for the heart, and -

You're hurt, and don't say otherwise.

From what he's seeing right now, Battousai is too skilled to get hit and the wound that day was on his right side and all the counter moves seem somehow incomplete. In this short moment, he realizes that the kid is actively trying to get killed and has been for a while and then he's just Kenshin, not Battousai. That damaged boy with the purple eyes and the best fuck Hajime has ever had. So in the last possible second he switches his target and stabs the boy clean through the left shoulder.

He freezes and manages to get out, "What the hell?"

Before saying anything, he grabs Kenshin's - Battousai's - katana and stuffs it back into the sheath because oh, is he going to need that. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he answers, smirking because he's allowed to be a bastard right now. "You've been trying to get hurt. Or is it to die? Do you feel guilty, Battousai?"

Very, very slightly, he twists the sword and Battousai gasps. He's in enough pain that he's blacking out because his eyes are rapidly losing the amber color. "Just kill me," he whispers so quietly that Hajime barely hears him. This should be satisfying but isn't at all because he needs to fully dehumanize the boy as quickly as possible.

"Only in a proper fight," he says harshly and wrenches out the sword. The killer's other hand immediately flies it and he stands there, immobile. "Right now, you don't even deserve to die."

Then the small hand goes off the wound, slips past Hajime's defenses easily and pulls him downward into a kiss. There's so much poured into it that for a moment he actually doesn't know what to do. Battousai becomes Kenshin again and he tries to convince himself that all it ever was is lust. So he pushes back the boy, pressing straight against the wound, and avoids looking into his eyes because if he sees purple, he's going to do something very, very stupid.

"You're the only person who's allowed to kill me," Kenshin tells, and it's one of the most fucked up statements Hajime has ever heard anyone say. "I'm so sorry."

He hits the kid hard and is surprised that he doesn't crumble to the ground from inevitable pain. "What can I do make you hate me?" he says and if Kenshin fought back honestly then he could become Battousai and Hajime would kill him with an clear conscious. But with those eyes, he never can.

"Nothing, I don't hate you!"

But there are a thousand ways he can make the boy despise him he realizes. His hand is back on the bleeding wound. Hajime grabs his hair, forcing him back against the brick wall and even if this is something he can truly never do, he can at least threaten it. "I know," he says, getting uncomfortably close. "You're insane, boy. All I need to do is -"

And apparently Kenshin knows where this is going because he cuts in, "No! Please, not that!" and there are literal tears in his eyes. He looks so young that Hajime can't do it no matter how much wants to.

Suddenly something dawns on him that makes him angrier, but still not angry enough to truly hurt the boy. "Who are you in love with?" he demands.

"Hajime-san, please just kill me."

He sounds so pathetic and desperate that the majority at the anger fades. He lets go of the boy's hair and Kenshin finally slides down the wall to the ground and someone will find him eventually. Without doing or saying anything else, Hajime turns and walks away.

The last sound he ever hears Kenshin make is a near-silent sob.

.

Life's not all hatred and unrequited love. So, here, you've earned a break:

A gap of time passes. Four years until the Revolution ends, another five until they meet again. Nine years is a long time to keep the secrets of someone you hate. Somehow, Saito Hajime does it anyway.

Maybe it's nostalgia. Maybe it's pity. Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know because he needs to kill the Battousai - or Kenshin or Himura, take your pick, darlin' - on his own. Well, whatever the reason, it's silly and stupid. But it stays there nonetheless and rationalizing rarely ever works for anyone. It takes him nine years to learn this.

Because, during all this time, he never tells a soul. Never tells anyone that the feared Battousai is named Kenshin and hanging onto sanity through a last act of desperation. Keeps the knowledge that his weakness is his trauma and the desire to die but too afraid to it himself under lock and key. Makes sure no one in that bar two years after the end of Bakumatsu learns why he vehemently defends his enemy to a group of ex-imperialists. These are Kenshin's secrets trusted upon him for safe keeping and he may hate the man, but secrets are secrets and this is a big enough one to hide on his own.

And, most of all, his wife never learns everything. He loves he too much to subject her to that truth.

So, skip if you will. He finds where Kenshin - or, well, Himura now - is staying now, but discovers him absent. There's someone else though who's foolish enough to challenge him to a fight and he's never cared much about hating others. So he does the smart thing and impales the man's shoulder rather than kill him.

Because it's the best damn calling card he will ever send.

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Okay, so, believe it or not, I'm actually really, really proud of this. I wrote it from 2-4 in the morning which is probably why. I doubt anyone will read this because it's a weird as all hell slash pairing and my personal OTP will forever be Kenshin/Tomoe, but if you did, please leave a review! I will for really love you.