I own nothing and no one

If I did the third RK movie would end differently

Beginning wasn't that great either

Chapter Five

"We really ought to get you a new sword," Methos commented idly, watching his younger student as the redhead worked on the . He had noticed the weapon's unique design awhile ago, and had really meant to ask about it. But well, he had gotten distracted. The Oniwaban seemed to delight in testing him. Ensuring he was worthy of their Masters.

It hadn't taken the ancient long to realize the clan of ninja wasn't quite as accepting of his presence as they had made out. Not that he should have been surprised by that. The race was sneaky and paranoid by nature. Possibly even more so than himself, Methos considered. At least in certain ways as his very nature gave him some advantages. They, on the other hand, had only one life to lose.

The first couple traps had been fairly easy to avoid. Methos had the feeling he would have lost all respect if he hadn't noticed them. However, they had gotten progressively harder since then. Misao had nearly nailed him the other day.

That wasn't all the group of ninja did either. Aoshi invited him to discuss politics and philosophy. Okina challenged him to games of Go. That wasn't much of a hardship. They spymaster was the best opponent Methos had played with since he had last seen Darius. Some of the others held sparring sessions. Supposedly voluntary ones, but Methos wasn't fooled. He knew his presence was required.

Bit by bit, they were getting past his walls. This would have bothered the immortal more if he wasn't getting past their's at the same time. With every test he passed his welcome less feigned and more real. It was a nice change really, to be around people who almost knew him. Though he constantly reminded himself not to become too comfortable. That would be bad.

In all honesty, Methos was a bit jealous of his new students. There had been a time when the whole of the known world trembled at the mere sound of his name. He had advised kings and ruled kingdoms. He had led vast armies. At any of those times, the immortal would have killed to have such warriors at his side. Others, not himself.

Other than having a clan of ninja sneaking around the property though, things had been remarkably peaceful. Something Methos had been assured was an oddity. One that should be appreciated while it lasted. Lessons were going well. Though at this point, the only thing he had really been doing on the physical side was demonstrating various western techniques the younger pair was likely unfamiliar with.

The ancient had learned through discussion, that between the two of them, there likely wasn't a single style in all of Japan Kenshin and Saitou hadn't at least heard of. They knew as smattering of teachings from outside the land of the rising sun as well. Like any other Master Swordsman, neither of them needed someone to explain how a move was preformed. Given some time, they could work it out themselves.

Somewhat ironically, it was Kenshin that Methos worried about. Hajime, or Saitou as he preferred to be called, seemed to have his head on straight. The wolf-like man was pragmatic, a survivor, like him. Even if he was dedicated to justice to the point of absurdity. Not to mention a bit bloodthirsty, but hey, no one is perfect.

The redhead on the other hand, just seemed to be a bit too gentle. Always perfectly polite; always willing to compromise. Methos knew the other could fight, and fight well. He might not have seen either of the pair go all out yet. He didn't even know Kenshin's style. He always seemed to be elsewhere when the fledgling immortal practiced his kata. Still, Saitou wouldn't have tolerated working with him if it were otherwise.

But there was more to coming out of a life or death battle on top than just skill. Kenshin seemed all to willing to let someone else take the lead. Heck, he let the older doctor's grandchildren bully him, and the oldest of the girls was only seven. The ancient just wasn't sure if the slender man had the backbone to survive centuries of constant combat. A life where a person's sword was often their only companion. That was the reason why the redhead's reaction to the offhand comment surprised him.

The slender figure stiffened, pausing briefly in his task. "That will not be necessary sensei," Kenshin said coolly putting down the stone to pick up a polishing cloth. When the older man had originally introduced himself as Peter Helm, he and his old enemy had shared a look of patent disbelief. Agreeing that they would address the man simply as sensei. It was more accurate and would prevent confusion in the long run.

Methos had been pleased. Starting a lecture on the stupidity of immortals who were unwilling to adapt to the changing times. It could be bad enough, he said, when someone held on to an unusual first name. People like Amanda and Matthew had it a bit easier than some. But it was downright foolish to keep your public name the same decade after decade. It made it far too easy for people to track you down.

His students had merely nodded in agreement. Quite familiar with the concept of unwanted company. Now however, the ancient wasn't sure he was. "And why not?" Methos demanded. That blade was completely unsuitable for trying to behead someone.

"Because," the redhead turned to look at the other. "I have taken a vow, never to kill another person again as long as I live."

Part of Methos filed away the fact that Kenshin had finally abandoned his overly humble way of speaking. The larger part however, couldn't believe what he had just heard. "I am sorry, but what did you just say?"

The redhead looked unrepentant. "I will not kill," he repeated. Kenshin paused thinking that statement over. "Not permanently at any rate."

Blood roared in Methos' ears. That was what he had thought the younger had said. "And what," he said silkily. "May I ask caused you to do such an idiotic thing?" The ancient couldn't have known it. But at that moment he sounded remarkably like Hiko Seijuro at his most caustic.

The change that came over Kenshin was remarkable. He stood up straight, lips thin as he regarded Methos. His mask falling away revealing the rod of steel at his core. "That is none of your concern," he said coldly eyes sliding towards blue.

"Wrong," his teacher spat not intimidated in the least. "It is very much my concern." Odd, before today Kenshin had seemed perfectly sane. This vow of his though, was tantamount to suicide. Especially for an immortal.

The redhead remained suddenly silent.

Methos sighed. "Very well don't tell me. It doesn't matter." He took a step forward, looming over the smaller man. "What does matter is that you are going to retract this ridiculous promise and get yourself a proper katana." His words held no room for negotiation, but Kenshin didn't see it that way.

"I won't," and that was that.

The argument raged for weeks, the only pauses being at mealtimes. Kaoru having threatened to brain the first person who so much as said the word sword with her bokken. Methos coming to deeply regret his thoughts about Kenshin's easy going personality more with every passing day. The previous version of his student had been far easier to deal with.

And, no matter what the ancient immortal did, none of his arguments seemed to have any effect on the redhead. Kenshin I mean. His other student just found the entire situation amusing. Just about Saitou's only contribution was that it wasn't his duty to air the other man's dirty laundry behind his back. Methos had wisely dropped the line of questioning after that, seeing the unspoken warning in his other charge's amber gaze.

Then, one morning the dojo woke up to an unpleasant realization. Kenshin was gone.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Does this count as a cliffy?

I mean, he is not dead, just gone.

As always please review

It makes me happy

Oh, and thanks to Weasel Fu

Loved your mini omake

Will have to write something similar for the epilogue