A/N: The westernized Akabeko takes inspiration from RuroKen's final chapter, as well as the short story Yahiko's Sakabato (Yahiko no Sakubato).


Chapter One - Never on Time

-17th Year of the Meiji. Late November, 1884-

"You've done well here, Tae."

She bent her head. "You are too generous, Otōsan."

Sekihara Kosuke smiled, amused by her polite words. "Seriously, Tae, look around." He motioned with one hand to the main floor of the restaurant. Tae followed his gaze, trying to look as objectively at the scene as her father obviously did. It was just after one in the afternoon and the lunch customers had come out in full force. As she watched, the main doors opened and a group of three Europeans came in, stomping and rubbing their hands in the cold. One of her wait staff - Tsubame - peeled herself away from a table to go greet them. Two other waitresses were busy jotting down the requests of the patrons at the tall, Western-style tables in the middle section of the room. The left and right sections still retained the traditional zashiki seating, with the low table and pillows on the floor. Nearly every seat, Tae realized, whether traditional or Western, was occupied.

"The Akabeko has kept its popularity," she noted quietly.

"Exactly so." He sipped his sake, watching her. "When your uncle, Azaka-san, died last year, I asked you to incorporate Western elements into the restaurant without changing the identity of the Akabeko itself. Not only did you take on that responsibility as the new manager, but the transition was seamless. Old customers still return, while the Westerners favor it because they recognize something familiar. It is because of you, Tae, that the Akabeko is thriving in this changing new world."

Tae bowed so low that the ribbon on the collar of her uniform nearly brushed the table. "I have only ever tried to do my best, Otōsan. It is a credit to you and Azaka-san that I have done well. If there is anything that you see that can be improved upon, please tell me so I can better deserve your words so praise."

"You don't need to be so polite," her father said, almost bluntly, and Tae bowed her head again, wondering if he had perhaps had a little too much sake for so early in the day. "But since you did ask..." He turned around and looked at the room again. "...I would recommend a slight change to your wait staff."

"What would that be?"

"You might consider hiring a waiter in with your waitresses."

Tae looked up at him in surprise. "A - A man? But that would be a degradation to their character, surely - "

"Not in this changing Meiji era. One of our competitors in Kyoto, in fact, replaced nearly all their waitresses with waiters." He leaned in. "It's a boost in revenue - waiters are extremely popular with female guests, you know."

She leveled her gaze at him. "I am not going to fire all my waitresses - "

"Nor do you have to. But," he shrugged a little, "if an opening does appear, advertise the position as male-only."

Tae pursed her lips together. "Actually... Kanako is leaving soon - "

He drained his cup and smiled. "Then the matter is settled."

Tae refilled his cup, half-hoping he would wave her off. He didn't. "I understand your concern," she pressed gently, "but at the same time, I don't want to alienate our customers in any way - "

A commotion from the floor caught her attention and they both turned. The trio of Westerners were standing at the front of the restaurant, varying degrees of consternation on each of their faces. "We don't want to sit at normal tables," the first man was saying loudly, as if by sheer volume alone he could make Tsubame understand his fluid English. "We want to sit at the short ones, like all you people do. We want to experience the culture."

Tsubame's face was flushed. Tae had been teaching her English to converse with the Western customers, but the foreign language was difficult for the girl and she wasn't skilled yet. Tae saw Tsubame's hands fist into the folds of her skirts."So sorry," she said in broken English. "All are... taken."

The Europeans looked around. Tae swallowed guiltily. She herself was sitting with her father at one of the traditional tables. She glanced at the other seats just to double-check, but Tsubame was right: all of the zashiki place settings were taken.

"Please..." Tsubame gestured to the Western tables again. "Please sit?"

"No." The Europeans glanced at one another, sharing the same unpleasant look. "We'll go somewhere else to eat."

Tsubame's face was pinched in distress. She didn't have enough knowledge of English to know how to respond, Tae knew. Tae sucked in her breath and braced her hand against the floor, ready to rush to Tsubame's rescue.

A hand closed around her wrist. "Wait," her father cautioned. Tae twisted around to look at him, amazed that he would let this situation pass without doing something to fix it, but he wasn't looking at her. Tae frowned and looked back at the main floor.

Across the room, a young man rose to his feet. He placed his chopsticks across his empty bowl and smoothed the front of his faded blue jacket. He left his table and walked to Tsubame. "Excuse me," he said kindly, "but I was just leaving."

Tsubame stared at him in surprise. "Eh?" She asked.

He smiled. "They can have my table. I'm quite finished eating."

The entire Akabeko was silent, watching the exchange play out. Tsubame was blushing furiously and Tae knew she wasn't much better - what the man was doing was very, very gracious. "That... that isn't necessary," Tsubame began shakily.

"I'm not doing anything. I just wanted you to know that I was done eating. It was very good, thank you very much." He bowed respectfully to her, then nodded to the Westerners who were hesitating by the doorway.

"Him." Tae's father murmured behind her. "That's the sort of man you want to hire as a waiter. Someone who will make people feel comfortable, no matter the situation."

"Him?" Tae echoed. As the young man straightened, Tae caught a better view of his face. He's familiar, she thought , but she couldn't think how. Why does he seem so familiar?

"Yes," her father confirmed. "And that man has rather elegant features. His face would be enough to attract more customers, at least."

"Otōsan!" She hissed.

"Well, are you going to let him leave?" He asked, sounding unruffled. "Invite him to meet me upstairs."

She shot her father another look, but he only nodded toward the doorway. Tae pushed herself to her feet and padded past the Europeans Tsubame was shepherding over to the newly-emptied table. Tae slowed, brushing down her apron as she rounded the edge of the screen.

The young man was standing alone in the entrance, stepping into his geta. "Please, wait," Tae called. He looked up just as she bowed low. "I am Sekihara Tae, the manager of this restaurant. I am in your debt for your kindness - "

"Oh, I'm not leaving because of that." He shrugged, slipping his small traveler's pack over one shoulder. "I really was finished eating, and it seemed like a good time to let everyone know."

"Regardless, I am grateful." She straightened slowly. "If you are not terribly busy, could I beg you for a little more of your time? There's someone who would like to speak to you."

The smallest flicker of surprise jolted across his face. Then he shrugged again and a quick little smile took its place. "Of course, I don't mind."

"Then if you could come this way." She led him back through the main floor of the restaurant and into the staff corridor. But instead of taking a right to turn into the kitchen, she took a left, leading to a staircase. Halfway up the flight of stairs, the man asked suddenly, "Do you recognize me?"

Tae glanced back at him. His blue eyes were peering up at her - so dark blue - and she thought, I have seen him before, but where?

But she couldn't just say you are familiar, but I don't know how - that sounded like she was trying to play into his favor. So she gave him an apologetic smile and shook her head. "I am sorry," she said.

"Ah. Nevermind, then."

Tae nearly asked him how he recognized her, but by then they had reached the top of the stairs and the question was all but forgotten.


Her father was waiting for them in a guest room on the second floor.

"Please sit down," he said. The sounds of the restaurant and its customers were a soft murmur below them. "My name is Sekihara Kosuke. I am Tae's father."

"Pleased to meet you, Sekihara-san," the young man said genially. He obediently knelt down on the cushion that Kosuke had motioned to.

"I know this is all rather unusual," he said as Tae settled down next to him. "Part of the reason I asked to see you was to thank you myself for what you did."

The young man waved his hands embarrassedly. "Everyone's making such a big deal out of it," he said, "when really, I was just full and ready to go."

Tae's father sent a look to his daughter that said, you see? and turned back wearing a satisfied expression. "The other reason why I asked to see you was to offer a... well, to set up an arrangement, I suppose."

The man in blue only blinked. Tae swallowed and looked down at her hands. Her father had a darker streak that only seemed to emerge when he was toeing the border between drunkenness and sobriety. His penchant for dramatics tended to pop up more often when he was like that, and she worried what he might be planning. Sorry, she told the straight-backed man silently. Just endure him, it'll be over soon.

"Would you like to be a waiter at the Akabeko?" Kosuke asked abruptly.

That was worse! Tae winced. She shut her eyes, wishing her father was not drunk.

"Otōsan," she whispered, not daring to look at him. Not daring to look at the young man across from them, for fear that he was barely holding back incredulous laughter.

Seconds passed and he didn't speak. "...you would ask me to work for you?" He asked eventually.

Tae's eyes slowly opened. He sounded... serious. As if he didn't think her father's question was too far-fetched after all.

"Not for me," Kosuke corrected. "For my daughter, Tae. She is the manager of the Akabeko."

"Hm," he said consideringly. "But you don't know anything about me."

"Very well, then. What's your name?"

"Seta Soujiro, Sekihara-san."

Soujiro. His voice echoed in Tae's mind and suddenly she realized why he seemed so familiar. Her memory of him was fuzzy, and she really only remembered the familiar banter they shared back and forth, like he was an old friend she had never met. But...

But that was four years ago.

She looked up. His brilliant blue eyes met hers, watching her understand. He gave her a little smile before turning back to her father.

You came back, she thought, staring at him. She studied his smooth black hair and curved mouth, trying to fill in the details of the Soujiro in her mind that time and absence had erased. You came back to the Akabeko.

But why now, after all this time?

"Are you employed, Soujiro-san? Or obligated in another way that would prevent you from taking the job?" Her father asked.

Soujiro shook his head. "I'm just traveling right now. I was actually thinking of spending some time in Tokyo, but I haven't found an inn yet."

Kosuke slapped his knee. "Then it's settled. You'll live up here in an extra room and Tae will teach you how to wait and serve our customers. In return, you'll receive a monthly stipend for your labor."

"Well, it does seem that you've thought of everything, Sekihara-san. Serving in a restaurant sounds like interesting work." He pressed his hands against the mats and bowed. "I accept the position you've offered."

Kosuke nodded. "Well, the first thing you'll need is a uniform! The Akabeko has Westernized along with the rest of the country, so I'm afraid your own clothes won't do." He climbed to his feet. "Let me find the tape measure and I'll record your size for the tailor."

The shoji door slid open and shut, leaving Tae and Soujiro alone. For a long moment they sat in silence, staring at one another. Tae cleared her throat. "I'm sorry," she said. She looked away and then back at him. "I really didn't forget... I just didn't know it was... you," she finished lamely.

The corner of his lips tipped up. "It's alright," he said lightly. "I have a pretty good memory - I remember people and places that have an impression on me." He shrugged. "I guess that isn't true for everyone."

Tae dropped her gaze, mortified. "But... I..." But you did, she wanted to say. I hoped you would come back for so long. I wanted you to. And then you didn't, and I...

"Why did you come back?" She asked quietly. She realized too late that the question was far too personal and she ducked her head. "Sorry," she murmured again.

She felt Soujiro's eyes on her, sensed his serene, contented smile. "To see someone. It was time."

Her blood burned beneath her cheeks. Tae kept her hands perfectly still in her lap, though her mind reeled. Soujiro came back to visit someone... but who? His family? A friend?

...me? A small part of her mind wondered.

Nonsense, she told herself as she shoji opened again and her father reappeared. Utter nonsense.

"Here we are. Stand up, if you please, Soujiro-san." Kosuke uncoiled the cloth tape measure and stretched it taunt between his hands. "Write this down, Tae. Shoulders, four spans. Length of back from neck, six spans. Width of torso, five spans..."

Tae copied down her father's notations. When he had finished, she tore the paper out of her notebook and handed it to him. "I'll get this made," Kosuke said, nodding his thanks. "Please show Soujiro-san around and introduce him to everyone."

"Of course, Otōsan." She rose silently to her feet.

"If I take this to them now, perhaps it will be ready by this evening. But regardless, I'll be back by then." He glanced at Soujiro and then Tae and turned away.

Tae watched him stride into the hallway and listened as his footsteps became fainter and fainter. She took a slow breath. She could not have predicted this situation when her father mentioned eating lunch together a few hours ago. Tae straightened her shoulders and raised her head. "Well," she said, glancing sideways at Soujiro. "Welcome to the Akabeko, Soujiro-san."


Tae slid the door open and stepped to the side politely. "This is the only room that isn't currently occupied at the moment," she said, glancing apologetically at the storage boxes stacked along the back wall. "I'm sorry. I'll ask for it to be cleared out before this evening."

Soujiro placed his pack just inside the door and looked around. The room was fairly large, even with half the space unusable. It was the largest chamber he'd had to himself in a while - at least five years, he figured. It would be nice to have the ability to lounge again.

"Does this room face east?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. In the crevices between the boxes, pale, slanted light peeked through from the windows. In the morning, this room would be bathed in brilliant gold.

"It does." Her eyes darted to the wall of the room and back again - a reflexive action. "I am sorry, but the sun makes it difficult to sleep for long."

Her own room is next door. That would complicate things; she would already be acutely aware of his presence, and she would have an easy view to his doings.

Well. A watchful eye had never stopped him before. Soujiro shrugged. "I don't mind," he told her brightly. "I'm used to getting up early."

"I'm glad," she said.

Soujiro stepped back into the hall and as Tae shut the door behind him, he saw her eyes flicker once more toward her room. She's uncomfortable with my proximity, he realized. The corner of his mouth tipped up. That changes everything.

"We will provide the basic necessities for you," Tae said as she led him down the hall. "I don't know what you have brought with you, or how much you were able to carry in your travels, but please let me know if you need anything."

"Oh, you don't need to worry, Sekihara-san," Soujiro said, shaking his head. "I've been taking care of myself for a while now, so I don't really mind going without."

She stopped suddenly. "We - I care, though. My employees... the people here really become..."

Soujiro watched her silently, waiting for her to finish her thought. Friends? he supplied for her. Family? Are you expecting me to fill that role, as well?

Then Tae turned to look at Soujiro, and the cool expression in her eyes surprised him. "Please do not call me by my family's name. Sekihara-san is my father, and I am Tae."

His smile snapped into place. "Forgive me, Tae-san."

She waved her hand in a it's nothing motion and led him down the staircase. The noise grew louder as they reached the ground floor but Tae didn't give the restaurant a second glance. She walked into the shadows beneath the staircase and opened a door that Soujiro hadn't seen before. Bright afternoon sun filled the hall as Tae stepped out and Soujiro winced, squinting his eyes in the light change.

Tae stopped on the front step. "The bathhouse is to the left. There are only a few of us who live in the Akabeko, so it shouldn't be too difficult to choose different times to bathe."

"Of course," he agreed.

"We have a garden here," Tae said, pointing to the raised beds. An icy wind swept through the doorway, rippling the hem of her dark blue dress. She took a staggered breath, fighting the cold. "It can't produce enough to feed our customers, especially in the winter months, but it does help in the warmer times of the year."

Soujiro looked past her, toward the other parts of the yard. A weak snowfall yesterday had covered the ground in filmy white, but now raw, brown dirt was peeking through in uneven patches. At the far corner stood an ancient willow tree, the long, whip-thin branches bare in the bitter air. In another corner stood a different tree - cherry? Or apple? Soujiro didn't really care much about plant life - with a low stone bench tucked against the trunk, where spring months would provide shade. Around the tree sat the small remains of a long-dead flower garden.

Odd. Soujiro stared at that corner for a long moment, trying to guess what the reason for it was. The bench and the garden were more aesthetic than anything - a useless inclusion in a space that would have benefited from yet another vegetable patch. Soujiro glanced at Tae. This was her restaurant, her garden - she must have some reason for wanting it there.

Tae shivered. "Well," she said, turning to meet his gaze. "Any questions so far?

"None, Tae-san."

Tae nodded and slid the door shut. She flicked a small latch into place, locking the door closed. The hallway beside the stairs was narrow, and Soujiro had to stand with his shoulders pressed against the wall to let Tae pass. He trailed her to the next doorway to the right, which led straight to the busy kitchen.

A waitress appeared just as Soujiro stepped through the doorway. "Excuse - " She began, then did a double take to where he was standing to the side. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes flickered to where he stood a moment ago, then back to him.

"Ah, Kanako-chan." Tae bowed her head. "Forgive us for taking some of your time - this is Soujiro-san."

"And your replacement, the way I understand it," Soujiro said cheerfully.

"I - I see." Kanako's cheeks pinked. She dropped her chin and bowed the best as she could over the three plates she had balanced in her arms. But then Kanako's eyes darted up to catch his, and Soujiro felt her ki shift with a firm, stubborn conviction. A second later, a wave of challenge hit him solidly in the chest.

My, how interesting! Soujiro tilted his head to the side, examining the girl. The challenge hadn't been a declaration of power - her will was like a hand on his chest, really, in comparison to the unbridled strength he had felt before - and the emotions he sensed coming from her now were a strange mix of suspicion and certainty.

"I nearly collided with you, Soujiro-san" Kanako said. "Pardon me."

"No you didn't," he contradicted mildly, watching with amusement as doubt then guarded confidence shifted through her eyes. She thinks she's figured me out, he thought as her eyes reluctantly dropped from his. The assumption was so ridiculous that it made him want to laugh.

He settled for grinning at her.

"My name is Taniguchi Kanako," she said.

"Yes," was all he said.

Kanako hesitated a moment longer, then bowed her head again. "Excuse me," she murmured. She slipped out of the room and vanished.

Tae was staring at Soujiro when he turned to face her. "Yes, Tae-san?" He prompted, sending her his sweetest smile.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her ki was - she didn't feel displeased with him. Odd. He met her eyes curiously, just as she sharpened her gaze. She gave him an intense look, just long enough for Soujiro to feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. Then, abruptly, she turned away.

He exhaled slowly. Odd, he confirmed. Very odd.

"As you can see, this is the kitchen," Tae said pointlessly, nodding her head to the room at large. She walked to a worn brown table near the front of the room, the first side to a wide rectangle that held two chefs within. One of them looked up from chopping leeks as Tae approached. "This is where you give the requests," she explained, tapping the tabletop with her fingers. "If the restaurant isn't very busy, you can wait while one of the chefs prepares the plate for your order, or you can come back after you've seen to another table. If the chefs are too overwhelmed, they may ask you to assist by chopping your own vegetables -"

"Hey, Tae-san." Both of the chefs were looking up now, mirroring smiles on their faces. "Who's this?"

"Is he the cook who's supposed to be the best in Tokyo, who's faster at slicing and dicing than the eye can catch?" The other asked.

"Are you replacing us, Tae-san? Just like you say you always will?" The first man sighed, good humor spoiling his attempt at looking injured.

"I have never - oh, forget it." Tae sighed as they burst into laughter. "Soujiro-san, these are our chefs, Urato-san and Nizuno-san. As you can see, they shamelessly enjoy practical jokes and teasing the waitresses."

"Not everyone - just Tsubame-chan," Urato corrected.

"And you, Tae-san," Nizuno added.

"So who are you, Soujiro-san? Are you the third chef to our merry company?" Urato stabbed his knife into an onion and scratched his throat, looking Soujiro up and down. He leaned toward Nizuno conspiratorially. "I don't think so, though - he looks a little young to be handling knives."

Soujiro only smiled.

Tae raised her head. "Soujiro-san is a co-worker," she said firmly. "He will take Kanako-chan's place as a waiter in the restaurant. I'm giving him the general tour."

"A waiter," Urato echoed, blinking.

"It'll be nice to have another man around," Nizuno commented.

"He looks too young to be of age."

"Yes, but how does the phrase go? It's the thought that counts."

"Well, I suppose if you look at it that way..."

They both laughed and Tae sighed again. "Don't mind them," she said, leading Soujiro away from the chefs. "They get here just after sunrise to get ready for the day and they stay late to help clean the kitchen, but they don't live in the Akabeko itself. Thankfully," she added belatedly, under her breath.

Soujiro smiled, amused by her irritation.

"After the customers order their drinks, you come here to get them ready." Tae stopped at a long counter along the right wall. "Teapots are stored in the cabinets below, the teacups up above. The sake is on the far left, in bottles depending on size of the party." She turned and pointed to the other side of the room, where two massive pots hung over a crackling fire. "The teacups are filled separately from the heated water. If the water ever gets low, please tell one of the chefs and they'll refill it from the well."

"Sounds simple enough," Soujiro said.

"Good. Oh - " She held up a finger, catching herself. "I forgot to mention - feel free to eat or drink whenever you need to. The kitchen and its resources are open to you, but let me know if we're beginning to run out of something so I can order some more."

"Of course, Tae-san."

"During lunch and dinner, I cover the tables for the waitresses while they eat. Do you have a preference about what time you would like to -?"

"Oh no, I don't mind waiting until the restaurant is empty to eat." Soujiro shrugged. "I told you - I don't mind going without."

Tae's eyes narrowed slightly and she opened her mouth to respond when another waitress walked into the room. "Ah," Tae said instead. "This is Hana-chan."

"Pleased to meet you," Soujiro said politely.

Hana pushed her braids over her shoulder and inclined her head. Without replying, she walked to the fire, filled a teapot, then silently swept out.

"Hana-chan lives at the Akabeko as well," Tae continued. "She's still relatively new to being a waitress, so I think she'll be relieved that she won't be the newest hire here." She caught the blink of surprise on Soujiro's face and sighed. "Hana-chan is quite reserved. Do not be disappointed if she does not speak to you."

Soujiro nodded, but his mind was turning. He began to count off the people he had met in his head. Boisterous Sekihara-san, who hired a total stranger to work for his daughter; Kanako-chan, with her bold confrontation; Urato and Nizuno, more like jovial siblings than professionals; Hana-chan, who appears deceptively disinterested...

Sanjō Tsubame, who must be here somewhere...

And Sekihara Tae herself.

"Soujiro-san?" Tae stood in the kitchen doorway, looking back at him from over her shoulder.

"Sorry, Tae-san!" He said, and followed her down the hall to where she paused, looking out over the main floor of the restaurant.

"The lunch guests have thinned," Tae observed, and she was right; the tables were only half-full now. As Soujiro scanned the room, the three Europeans that had been such a bother earlier stood, stretched, then tromped toward the door. He gave Tae a side look. She was watching them too, the traces of a frown on her face.

"You don't happen to know English, do you?" She asked without turning.

"A few words," he admitted. "Not much."

"That's alright," she said, "I can teach you. I'm teaching Tsubame-chan a few nights a week when we have some free time."

Ah. He kept his voice light and neutral. "Tsubame-chan?"

"Yes, the third waitress here. Tsubame-chan also lives in the Akabeko with Hana-chan and I." Tae nodded her head toward the restaurant. "She's the one with the short hair, there in the middle."

"Sanjō Tsubame works at the sukiyaki restaurant, the Akabeko." The steam rose gently from the teacup in the traveler's browned hand.

"What is the use of that girl to me?" Soujiro asked, smiling absently.

He shrugged. "She will be of much use if you wish to find Myōjin Yahiko."

"Tsubame-chan!" Tae called. Soujiro started, torn from the memory. Across the room, the girl with the short hair looked up. She bowed to her guests and stepped back as they slowly stood and left the table. Tsubame gave them a final glance and then turned to grin to Tae. She skipped over.

"Forgive me, Tae-san!" She exclaimed, sounding a little out of breath. "Was there something that you needed?"

Tae gestured to Soujiro, but he spoke first. "Soujiro," he said, inclining his head politely. "I've just been hired as the new waiter."

"Ah! What good news!" Tsubame clapped her hands together. "We won't be short-staffed after Kanako-chan leaves!"

"Soujiro-san is going to live in the Akabeko, in the extra room," Tae said, "so I'll need help moving all the boxes."

"Of course!" Tsubame held up her fists. "Leave it to me! I can help you, Tae-san!"

"No, no..." Tae smiled, shaking her head. "I didn't mean you, Tsubame-chan. I know he was here earlier, but have you seen Yahiko-kun recently?"

Soujiro's head snapped toward Tae before he could stop himself. Tsubame smiled, and Soujiro felt her ki blossom with affectionate warmth. It's true, he thought. What the traveler said about them - it's true.

"He was right here until Yuta-kun came in," the girl recalled. "Then Yahiko-kun said they had to talk outside. So... I guess they're still out there, because they haven't come back in!"

"Yutaro-kun again. I see." Tae folded her hands together, and her ki twisted with cautious amusement. "Well, could you tell Yahiko-kun to come in here, please? I don't want another fight breaking out in the street again."

"Yes, ma'am!" Tsubame began to turn away when she suddenly stopped and whirled back around, blushing. "I forgot to thank you for your kindness earlier - thank you very much!" She said, bowing deeply to Soujiro.

Soujiro bent his head again, starting to understand Tae's entertainment.

Tsubame raced away, her apron flapping back against her crimson skirts. Tae reached up to push her bangs to one side and Soujiro followed her hand with his eyes. "Yahiko-kun works here as well," Tae said, noticing his eyes on her. "Just... more unpredictably than the others. I ask him to do any miscellaneous tasks that need to be completed - like clearing tables and washing dishes."

"And cleaning out bedrooms," Soujiro added.

Tae smiled. "Yes," she said, "and he doesn't protest. At least, not much." She looked toward the restaurant's entrance, hidden by the painted privacy screen.

Soujiro followed her gaze, mirroring her thoughtful pose exactly. Myōjin Yahiko was there, just outside.

At last.

"Myōjin Yahiko?" He'd repeated, tilting his head to the side.

"He was ten at the time you met the Battousai."

Soujiro shrugged.

"Myōjin Yahiko lived with him," he emphasized.

"But he did not learn the Hiten Mitsurugi." He looked away dismissively. "That skill will go to Himura-san's son."

"No," the traveler agreed, "Myōjin Yahiko did not learn it. But he was raised by the Battousai. By a hitokiri."

Soujiro hesitated, realizing what the traveler meant. There was something... similar between himself and the boy, that was true. Shishio-san had never attempted to teach Soujiro how to use his Secret Sword techniques; he'd encouraged him to develop his own skills, and pointed out the flaws when Soujiro later demonstrated them to him. It was possible that Himura Kenshin had acted as a similar mentor to this boy, Myōjin Yahiko, as he learned the Kamiya Kasshin form.

But Himura-san was different from Shishio-san - different in every way. How would it be, he wondered, to be raised by a hitokiri like Himura-san, and not Shishio-san?

"If you find Myōjin Yahiko, you will find the Battousai," the traveler said after a long moment.

Soujiro did not reply.

The traveler blew on his tea. His breath skittered across the surface of the cup, disturbing the still reflection of the cloudy sky. "And you still want to find him. Don't you?"

"Not exactly," he said airily. "I know precisely where he is."

"...I don't understand," he said bluntly.

Soujiro grinned. "No, you don't," he said, and his smile grew wider at the frown of dislike on the traveler's face. He hitched his bag higher up on his shoulders. "The Akabeko. I think I'll start there."

He gave the younger man a disgruntled look. "You know where it is?"

Soujiro looked down the mountain toward the distant valley. Somewhere down there, beyond the haze of green and grey and close to the call of the sea, was Tokyo. And within that city, in the Akabeko, was a woman that he remembered well, to this day.

He would find a way to be in her life. Through her, he would ingratiate himself into Himura-san's circle. Through her, he would come face-to-face with that hitokiri once again.

This time, he would not turn back.

"I think I can find my own way," Soujiro said.

And he had. He hadn't thought it would be so easy, but the Akabeko had accepted him with open arms.

A smile curved his lips. And now, for Myōjin Yahiko...

He watched the screen, waiting for the first glimpse of the man who would walk out behind it.