Meiji Keikan Romantan

by misaki-toyodome

"Meiji Police Officer Romance" - a sequel to "The Courtship of Lady Tokio". Filling in the story of Saitou Hajime through the manga timeline. Introducing the Fujita family, with flashbacks to the first years of his marriage and his Shinsengumi days. History, politics, action, and old-fashioned Japanese romanticism! I tried my hand at a little Kenshin x Kaoru in the latest chapter.

6. Chapter 5 - The Rooster and the Fox

Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts.

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Meiji Keikan Romantan

Chapter 5 – The Rooster and the Fox

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* The chapter starts right after Saitou and Sano talk to Chou in Kyoto, manga volume 11. There are flashbacks and references in this chapter to manga volumes 2, 3, 4, 6 and 7 as well as CLT Chapter 30 "The Battle of Aizu". Scene changes are labeled with time and place at the beginning of the sections.

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= Meiji Year 11 (1878), June – Kyoto =

Chief Shimozaki of the Kyoto Police was surprised when Lieutenant Inspector Fujita Gorō emerged from the jail, followed by the rough-looking young man who had been squatting in prison. Sagara Sanosuke, whom he had witnessed busting open his cell door, was as boisterous as he had been when he was initially arrested, shouting that he was not Fujita's subordinate and that he would not be ordered around.

"Fujita-kun, how did the interrogation go?" Shimozaki moved towards them, glancing apprehensively at the lieutenant inspector's unexpected companion. While he had asked the man to do something about the troublemaker, he never would have thought that Fujita would allow him to observe the interrogation of their most dangerous prisoner.

"Sawagejō gave up the plans – the situation is urgent and requires immediate action." Fujita answered in a curt tone. "I'll begin drawing up countermeasures. Which office will I be using during this operation?"

"We've prepared a room for you down the main corridor on the first floor." He indicated the direction. "And what about him…?"

Sanosuke, hands in his pockets, was trailing after them as though it were completely natural. A fleeting furrow appeared on Fujita's brow, but his reply came out as an unconcerned drawl.

"We're dealing with a shortage of manpower at the moment. He's an idiot, but we might find some use for him."

"Oi! Who's an idiot!?"

"Are you sure about this?" The chief had been ordered by his superiors in Tokyo that he was to extend the officer every courtesy and allow him full rein on operations; however, that was not to say that he was without misgivings.

"If he gets in the way of operations or causes any problems, I'll deal with him personally." Fujita walked on. "He's connected to Himura Battousai," he added by way of reinforcing his decision.

"To the Battousai?!" Shimozaki's eyes widened in astonishment and he studied Sanosuke with renewed interest.

"Yeah well," Sanosuke scratched his cheek and Shimozaki noticed the fresh blood on his forehead. "I'll be helping you fight against Shishio Makoto and his crazy plot to burn down Kyoto. Yoroshiku na. But first things first: I'm hungry, let's go get some food!"

The chief of police blanched as he heard the name 'Shishio' and the phrase 'burn down Kyoto' stuck in his mind, but even as he wondered how this ruffian knew about the top-secret mission and how he was associated with the infamous Hitokiri Battousai, there was one detail that he could not let go.

"But you just ate!"

"Don't sweat the small stuff. You know what they say, you can't do battle on an empty stomach." Sanosuke patted his midriff. "And the stuff you provide here is almost as bad as Jou-chan's cooking, so I'd appreciate it if you could order in something from outside."

"You were free to leave after the first day! And you dare complain after freeloading for a week at our expense!"

Sanosuke's cocky attitude was not endearing him to the police chief.

"Ahou." Fujita glared sharply at the young man, tempted for a moment to put him back in the cell with the criminal who called himself 'Katana-gari no Chō'. "Chief, it's best not to pay him any attention."

Chief Shimozaki, still annoyed by the exchange, opened the door to the office. It was relatively spacious with all the requisite furnishings – bookshelves, desks, chairs – and boxes full of files pertaining to the investigation.

After Shimozaki and Sanosuke sat down, Fujita proceeded to outline the results of the interrogation and the situation regarding Shishio's 'Great Kyoto Fire' plan. By the time the briefing was done, Shimozaki had broken out into a cold sweat.

"I'll send telegrams to Osaka, Kobe and the neighboring prefectures straight away for back-up. And I'll notify Tokyo of course." He said with a quavering voice. The immense responsibility came with terrifying consequences: if they failed, not only would the city be destroyed, it could very well spell the doom of Japan.

"I'd like more field agents also." Fujita was mindful of the fact that Shishio had always been one step ahead of them so far; information gathering was absolutely vital in preventing the attack. "Has there been any word of the Battousai's whereabouts?"

Sanosuke, who had been reclining quietly in his chair so far, pricked up his ears at the mention of his friend.

"Not since he left the Aoi-ya restaurant." Shimozaki shook his head. "Do you think he's training somewhere with the new sword?"

"Hmph." Fujita cast his gaze around for an ashtray.

Whatever Himura was doing, hiding away in the mountains, he probably would show up at the right time and in the right place. It was not that he believed in coincidences or fate or any kind of divine intervention, but over the years, he had learned that 'things happen as they should'.

"A new sword? What's that about? Did something happen to Kenshin's sakabatou?" Sanosuke leaned in eagerly. "What happened to him on his way to Kyoto? Hey! Hey!"

"Chief Shimozaki, I'll leave it to you to handle the coordination with the other prefectural headquarters. I'll draw up personnel assignments once we know how many men will be made available to us. And I need the most up-to-date maps of the city and the surrounding areas." Saitou continued in his habitual cool manner, not bothering to answer Sanosuke's questions.

"Don't ignore me, damn you!"

"Shut up and go bring me an ashtray."

"I told you not to order me around! I'm not your lackey!" The younger man pushed back his chair with a screech of its legs on the floor and got to his feet.

"If you're not going to make yourself useful, then get the hell out of here. The police station isn't a hangout for down-and-outs." Fujita's tone dropped dangerously; he had not taken a seat, nor had he removed his sword from his belt.

"Fujita-kun," Shimozaki intervened as he recalled the destruction of the jail cell. "And you, Sagara Sanosuke or whatever your name is – settle down! This is hardly the time to be squabbling." He sighed heavily. "I'm going to send the telegrams, and I'll also order in some food.," he said by way of placating Sanosuke. "Since you're now a cooperating partner in this operation," he turned to the young man, "mind your manners while you're dining on our dime. Honestly, young people these days…." With a stern parting look at Sanosuke, he left the office.

As the footsteps retreated down the corridor and out of earshot, Sanosuke turned towards the man he knew as Saitou Hajime and smacked his right fist into his left palm.

"So, you going to answer my questions, or am I going to break this desk?"

"Is breaking inanimate objects the extent of your abilities?" Saitou curled his lip scornfully. "You really are an idiot if you think that will get you anything."

"Argh! What's your problem!? Why can't you just answer me like a reasonable human being!?" A vein began to throb on Sanosuke's brow.

"Because you interrupted my conversation with the Chief and now you make idiotic threats. Ahou." Saitou turned away and walked over to the window.

"Stop calling me an idiot!" Sanosuke clenched his teeth and fists in frustration. "Fine! You want me to help look for Kenshin, you're gonna at least tell me what happened to him on his way to Kyoto!" He drew himself up to his full height, although he was still a few inches shorter than the other man.

Saitou slowly removed a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping out a cigarette before speaking.

"The Battousai and I confronted Shishio and some of his men along the Tōkaidō. He faced off against them, and the one called 'Tenken no Sōjirō' broke the sakabatou." He relayed the condensed version of events in a monotone as he opened the window and began to smoke. "They left, then we left, and while I was looking after some business in Kobe, the Battousai went looking for a new sakabatou. He found one at the same time as he fought that broom-head locked up in the basement."

"Kenshin's sakabatou broke?! Shishio and his men got away?" Sanosuke's voice increased again in volume. "Huh, they really are that dangerous." Pinpricks of goose bumps raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Scared? It's not too late to go back to Tokyo." Saitou exhaled slowly, the smoke escaping his lips in narrow coils.

"Hah! Not until I punch Shishio Makoto in the face!" A wide grin spread across the young man's face. "And then, it's your turn."

"You don't learn, do you?" Saitou met his eyes with a cold glare, although inwardly, he was mildly amused by his bravado. "Big words don't make the man."

"If you think that I'm the same as the last time we met, you're in for a painful surprise." Sanosuke brimmed with a newfound confidence that he had not possessed when they had sparred before. Saitou acknowledged that there must be some truth behind his claim, if the skill he had shown earlier was not a fluke. Sanosuke said smugly, "So, are you gonna ask about my training on the way to Kyoto?"

"No." Despite a certain degree of interest, Saitou was not inclined to indulge Sanosuke's ego.

"Well I'm not going to tell you." Sanosuke threw back his head defiantly like a crowing cockerel. "Hey, hang on, did you say no? Uh, don't you want to know?"

"No."

"Why don't you want to know?" He was now indignant. "Come on, ask me!"

"No."

The sounds of the city carried on the air. As a breeze swept into the room, a myriad of memories stirred up strong emotions. Saitou had been no older than Sagara when he had first arrived in Kyoto, but that was where the similarities ended (as far as he would admit). The Captain of the Third Unit of the Shinsengumi had never been an idiot, nor so brash and uncouth. A thought niggled at the back of his mind, that there was one other trait they held in common: they were not afraid to put their lives on the line for what they believed to be right.

"Shifty, underhanded creep!" Sanosuke started to insult Saitou out of exasperation. "No wonder the Meiji government is so full of shit, with men like you working for them! Yeah, I almost thought you might be a half-decent guy when you were talking 'bout stopping Shishio's plan, but I forgot that you're the type of bastard who enjoys attacking innocent civilians!"

"A guy who used to be a fighter-for-hire is complaining about a fight? Don't be such a hypocrite just because you lost – miserably." Saitou's smirk was full of contempt.

"Well, I was tougher than you thought, wasn't I? You tried to kill me and couldn't." Sanosuke growled. "And you know what they say – what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Ahou. If I'd tried to kill you, you'd be in a grave right now." Saitou rested against the wall, holding his cigarette out the window.

The younger man opened his mouth to argue, but then paused. Which truth did he prefer: that Saitou Hajime had actually tried to kill him and failed only because of his own innate vitality, or that the man had deliberately held back and spared his life? He had been told that he was fortunate that none of his organs or vital spots had been hit; later, he had guessed that it must have been more than dumb luck. However, to hear it from the man's own mouth hurt his pride.

"It's only thanks to Megumi that I'm here now," he glowered. He was loath to give any credit to the man in front of him. "Actually, what would you have done if I she hadn't come along, huh? You bet your ass that Kenshin wouldn't be working with you now."

"It was a calculated risk." Saitou did not tell him that he had known that Takani Megumi was on her way to the dojo. "And it was a lesson that both the Battousai and you needed to learn. Though obviously in your case, you're too thick to get it." Saitou said with a smirk.

"Asshole! I thought you'd come to fight Kenshin, but you were deliberately after me from the beginning, weren't you?" Sanosuke knew that he should not let Saitou get under his skin but he had never met a man who infuriated him more.

"It was you or the brat, or the Kamiya girl. Would you have preferred it if I'd gone after one of them?" He tapped the tobacco ash to the ground.

"Wouldn't put it past you," Sanosuke muttered scornfully. Yet, even as he spoke, he knew that it was not true. He grudgingly recognized that the man before him was not truly psychotic, as Udo Jin'e had been. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a jerk of the first degree? You never even said sorry for stabbing a guy, or putting a hole in the dojo wall."

"What, were you waiting for an apology?"

"Hah! Looks like I'm not going to be changing my opinion of you any time soon." Sanosuke grimaced.

"The feeling's mutual." Saitou blew out a ring of smoke.

"Tch! So where is Kenshin now?"

"We don't know. You should go find him and leave me in peace." The cigarette had burned to a short stub and Saitou's tolerance for Sanosuke's company was burning out with it.

"You're telling me I've been waiting here this past week for nothing? Damn you, and damn him! Both you and Kenshin piss me off." Sanosuke gritted his teeth. He still had not forgiven Himura for leaving for Kyoto without seeing him, and he was still smarting from being treated as a weakness. "I'm gonna knock the both of you out one day."

"Until then, go make yourself useful or you'll be bunking with that broom-head in the prison." Saitou had the urge to flick the butt of his cigarette at him but refrained; it would only lead to more aggravation when he wanted to get started on the mountain of work ahead. "And go wash up – you've still got blood on your face."

"Why are you always telling me what to do?" Despite his sullen tone, the young man headed towards the door. "Oh, and if the food arrives, don't start eating without me."

Saitou did not bother to reply; his eyes remained fixed outside the window as he crushed the remnant of the ember on the windowsill and dropped the butt on the gravel below (the thought occurring after the fact that Tokio would have been displeased with his manners). It was a calm night, and the calmness bothered him. While his arrival had been delayed, he had been concerned that Shishio's men would attack the station in order to free Sawagejō or to kill him. However, there had been no such movements. Either Shishio was conceited enough that he did not worry about his plans being leaked, or he had changed the operation and therefore did not care, or there was some other reason why he wanted his plans leaked.

He could not suppress a rueful grin of sorts as he recalled how similar the situation was to the actual Ikedaya Affair. Back then, the Shinsengumi had arrested Furutaka Shuntarō under suspicion of conspiracy; the wretched man had not held out long under Hijikata Toshizō's questioning. Nonetheless, the Ishin Shishi had held their meetings according to plan, much to their detriment. Such hubris – what was it about men who entertained notions of grandeur that made them ignore the fact that they were just men, and that their best laid schemes could be undone by men. Reflexively, Saitou gripped the hilt of his sword; the thrill of that particular battle had never quite died. It had been a defining point of his life: the Shinsengumi at the pinnacle of their existence, the battle in which they had all been united as one in their cause, and the moment that the entire fate of the city, and with it the country, had rested on their shoulders. It was also when he had realized that Okita Souji was gravely ill, and the first time he had noticed Himura Kenshin in the shadows of the night.

As his thoughts turned to Himura, he sat down at the desk and went through the files on his movements. It had been over a week since the redheaded swordsman had last been spotted. He gave a small snort as he reflected on the difference in their approaches. While Fujita was wrangling bureaucracy and overseeing the assignment of hundreds of police officers, the Battousai had been busy saving a baby. How typical, and how absurd. The issue was not with Himura's actions per se (which had turned out to be rather fortuitous), but that instead of presenting himself at the police station like a regular government agent, he was still intent on clinging to his identity as a rurouni.

Until Himura Kenshin reappeared, Saitou could not factor him into his plans. Without the special unit also, he had few options in terms of capable operatives. Sagara Sanosuke wanted to join them so he might as well take advantage of that. Certainly, the rooster head was an idiot. He was the kind of idiot who did not try to dodge an iron ball aimed at his head. He was also the kind of man who did not flinch when the iron ball slammed into his skull. Saitou could not argue with the natural physical attributes that allowed him to bear such a blow in stride. If he was properly trained and he used his head a little more, he could become formidable.

'That's a big 'if',' Saitou thought skeptically. In the meantime, so long as Sagara did not interfere with his work and could stand guard against a possible attack, the police force could afford to accommodate him. The lout also needed to take a bath and change his clothes – he stank to the high heavens. That jacket of his, with the character 'Aku' emblazoned on it, was an eyesore. It was not that Saitou disdained the power of symbols, but he could not abide uncleanliness. A hint of a smile appeared on his lips as a conversation with his wife came to mind, and his fingers traced the outline of the omamori that she had made for him, tucked away in the inner pocket of his uniform.

"All young men will look for a cause," she had said, "and older men would do well not to ridicule them, lest they forget why they grow old."

Tokio had a soft spot for young men with a strong sense of justice and difficult pasts. She had been intrigued when he had first told her about Sagara Sanosuke, and no doubt, she would be amused by the recent turn of events. He was already concocting a version of the 'Rooster and the Broom' that might make for a good bedtime story for Tsutomu. He allowed his mind to drift to thoughts of his family. It was another fact that distinguished him from Himura Kenshin: Saitou knew exactly where he belonged at the end of a battle. The impermanence of Himura's relationships, the distance he maintained in his dealings with people, the doubt he sowed in the minds of those who cared about him: it was little wonder why Sagara was angry and felt impelled to chase the man to Kyoto, to prove his worth.

If Himura regarded his so-called friends as liabilities, it was only because he made them so. It was the result of his half-hearted existence in which his guilt over the past mixed with his self-sacrificing desire to save others; he did not know how to truly trust those who wanted to be a part of his life, and for him to be a part of theirs. Perhaps that was the real lesson that Himura needed to learn; close ones were only weaknesses if he allowed them to be used against him. Then again, the Hitokiri Battousai had always cut a solitary figure, a convenient tool in the employ of the Ishin Shishi rather than a true comrade.

"Yes! You brought the food!" Sanosuke's voice rang out in the hall.

It remained to be seen how much Sagara Sanosuke would grow in the upcoming battle against Shishio. As it was, he had already gained some vital experience in his confrontations with Saitou.

"Why are you dripping water all over the floor?" Chief Shimozaki would probably not be thanking him any time soon for permitting Sagara to stick around though.

"Don't blame me – Saitou told me to go wash up, and the blood was kinda making my hair stick so I dunked a bucket over my head, but I couldn't find any towels."

Whatever merits his character might have, there was no denying that Sagara Sanosuke was an idiot.

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= Meiji Year 11 (1878), early May – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =

One of the many things that Fujita Gorō appreciated about his wife was that she could read his moods better than anybody he had ever known. He had returned late in the night, and as though she had anticipated that he would have had a stressful day, she had drawn a bath with fresh mint leaves. He emerged refreshed from the bathroom, and as he sat down next to Tokio, he saw that a flask of saké and some light snacks were already prepared for him. It was the little things like this that made him reaffirm that he was indeed a fortunate man.

Without saying a word, he took the cup in his hand, and without saying a word, she set down her sewing for a moment and filled it for him. They sat in companionable silence, listening to the first crickets of the season. As he sampled the fish that complemented his drink, he watched his wife deftly stitching the black fabric in her hands; even in the dim lamplight, her fingers moved quickly and precisely. The thought crossed his mind that the work might strain her eyes and that she would do better to leave it until the following day, but he decided not to stop her. Tokio was stubborn about her housework and there was only one reason why she would continue sewing after dark: when she was making something for him.

Upon further scrutiny, the shape of the garment struck him as odd. His curiosity got the better of him and he reached out to straighten the folds so he could see it better. Tokio smiled faintly at his interest as he asked,

"What is it?"

"It's called a 'tee-shatsu'." She held it up for him. "Kenjirō-san told me about a cotton undershirt that the American soldiers wear under their uniforms."

He rubbed the fabric between his fingertips – the light cotton was breathable and soft.

"How do you put it on?" He saw no buttons. "You just pull it over your head?"

"Yes." She resumed attaching the last sleeve. "I'm sorry that it's not ready yet, but I only drew up the patterns this evening."

"The sleeves are short." It was a novel concept.

"I thought it would be cooler for the summer…."

"And all this because I said that I didn't like my shirts, hmm?" His amber eyes glinted as he cocked his head at her. A few days ago, he had complained that the uniform regulation collared shirts were too stiff and heavy for the coming summer.

"I really do spoil you, don't I?" She murmured.

"Only because you want to." With his knuckles, he lifted her chin to look up at him. "Like the fact that you brought out the good saké tonight."

Earlier that evening, he had turned down Shibumi's invitation for a drink, using the excuse that "when I drink, it really makes me want to kill", but in truth, he had always been selective about who he kept company with. The saké that Tokio poured for him soothed his spirit and enhanced his enjoyment of life; even as part of his job, he had no desire to play drinking buddies with a corrupt pest of a politician.

"You left home with your dress-up gear, so I figured you'd want to unwind properly."

"Don't call it my dress-up gear," he clicked his tongue lightly. She was fully aware that he had an undercover assignment.

"And what happened to the Ishida-sanyaku box that you spent so long preparing?" Chuckling softly, she bowed her head as she focused on the last bit of needlework.

"I left it at the Kamiya Dojo."

Even though she had been anticipating such an answer, Tokio felt her heart constrict tightly. She understood that it concerned Himura Kenshin, and she knew that despite his indifferent demeanor, her husband had been restless at the prospect of facing his old foe after all these years. It had been a comical sight to see him fixing up an old medicine box, painting it with the symbol of Hijikata Toshizō's family business. She did not press him about his day, certain that he would let her know about it in due course. By the time the t-shirt was completed, he had finished the first flask. Usually, some measure of cajoling would be necessary before she allowed him to have a second one on a work night, but tonight, she simply nodded when he looked at her expectantly, and went to the kitchen to bring him another.

The smell of tobacco tickled her nose when she returned, a scent that had grown familiar and reassuring over the years. He was smoking contentedly on the engawa; although the nights were still cool, they had long ago agreed that he would not smoke inside the house.

"I had a relatively interesting day," he began as she moved next to him, offering him the new flask.

"Is that so? But it doesn't seem like you met Himura Kenshin…." There were no signs of the expected confrontation.

"No, he was out. Sagara Sanosuke was there instead."

"He's the young fighter you mentioned before?" She had a good memory about his work and paid attention to the details he shared with her. "I think I must have seen him around town once – I overheard people pointing him out. He's quite famous, with that jacket of his."

"He's a street thug, no more and no less." While Sagara's strength might be lauded in the bars and back streets, there was no discipline or artistry to his style.

"Oh dear…." Tokio frowned at her husband. "You did something very rude to him, didn't you?"

"Rude? I was doing my job." Fujita frowned back at her; it was unlike Tokio to criticize his work, no matter what she privately thought of his methods.

"Well, I think it's in very bad taste." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You do, do you?" He turned to the side as he exhaled so as not to blow smoke into her face. Tokio knew him well enough that she might have deduced that they had fought, and that the younger man had not come out of the confrontation unscathed. "That is one way of looking at things."

"I mean, he had no sense of fashion to begin with, but did you really have to make things worse?" She sniffed daintily.

"Fashion? What exactly are you talking about, woman?"

"His jacket – the one with the character 'Aku'. You just couldn't resist adding 'Soku Zan' to it, could you? That's terribly tacky!" She declared with a twinkle in her eye.

He almost choked on his cigarette and started to cough and guffaw at the same time. He could count on one hand the number of women who dared to poke fun at him, and she was the only one who could also make him laugh at himself in the process. As he cleared his throat, Tokio stole the cup of sake from him and finished it off. He glared at her as she smiled innocently.

"My, that is good."

"If you want some, go get your own cup."

"No, I just wanted some of yours."

"Tch!"

"So, if you didn't commit sartorial vandalism, you just left the Ishida Sanyaku box with Sagara-san? What did you tell him?" She brought the conversation back to the original topic.

"I didn't tell him anything. Battousai should be able to piece things together." He coolly met her gaze as realization dawned on her.

"I see…. Will he survive?" She did not even flinch at the implication. Her husband had always done his job as he saw fit, and she supported him with equal resolve.

"The Takani doctor was on her way to the dojo so he'll be fine – I went easy on him. Nothing that a few days of rest won't heal." He ground out the cigarette into the ashtray and pulled her closer to him.

"Takani-sensei? How is she?" She settled against the crook of his shoulder.

"I don't know." He had never met the woman in person.

"I should go see her again…. Teru-hime-sama and the other ladies were wondering what might be done about her situation."

"Can it wait until after this is over?" The mention of his wife's former mistress always seemed to irk him. "I didn't tell you about her so that the Aizu Spinster Brigade could complicate matters."

"Yes, I know." Tokio answered in a placatory tone. "And please don't be rude about my princess."

Fujita gave a quiet snort but said nothing. The new Meiji era had so far not been kind to Tokio's homeland and countrymen. He knew how sincere she was about helping her fellow Aizu people, and the subject of Takani Megumi had struck a chord; he respected her efforts on that front as much as she respected him in his work. He had made a mental note that once the matter of Shishio Makoto had been resolved, that he would try to do some more digging into the Takani family for his wife's sake.

"I can hardly imagine Himura Battousai's reaction to your visit," she said with a shake of her head. Her husband had deliberately provoked one of the most dangerous men in all the country who also happened to be his oldest, deadliest foe, and she could not altogether quell the uneasiness in her heart.

"Hmph. It should serve as a wake-up call."

"You really think he has grown weaker over the years?"

"In the years since we've been married, we've never let harm come to our family." He gripped her shoulder tightly. "But that fool, in the space of a few months, allowed the Kamiya girl to get kidnapped, the Myōjin boy to be poisoned, let Takani Megumi fall back into enemy hands, and he failed to protect a boy who ended up losing the use of his right hand. His rurouni's vow hardly does any good except to shield his self-esteem." His voice dropped harshly. "It was never in the Battousai's nature to protect." He felt Tokio give a small nod against his shoulder.

"He probably is not used to having people to care about, or who care about him." She sighed. "So, you targeted the man that he has come to rely on most in order to demonstrate how vulnerable they are."

"It takes a lot more than a useless sword to protect what's important. And at this rate, one of them is going to end up dead." He swallowed a swig of sake.

"And you took it upon yourself to play the villain in order to drive that point home, and to give him a reason to face you," she said in a gentle tone. "Even though you know it will win you no favors." Her husband's mission would be a failure if Himura Kenshin saw through the ruse.

She really did understand him better than anybody else. Although most would have categorized his actions as antagonistic and sadistic, she never doubted that the man she had married was a good man who adhered to his own sense of justice, albeit with a skewed sense of humor.

"Why would I care about winning their favor?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think I want to do, become friends with them?"

She could not suppress a chuckle at the thought of him abiding by the conventions of human niceties.

"I gather you weren't all that impressed by Sagara-san."

"No." Fujita was not a man who was impressed easily. "After all I'd heard about his reputation, I expected him to be a better opponent. He was hardly worth the time."

"A man's worth is not just in how strong he is."

"But it definitely shows in how well he carries himself." He looked down at her. "He's just an idiot who likes to brawl. "

"Oh dear. Do you know, I do remember meeting a group of young men way back when, who also liked to brawl."

"Ahou. Don't compare us to him." He pinched her nose between a calloused thumb and forefinger, and she twisted her head to escape his grasp. "He used to be a junior member of the Sekihōtai – he took his surname from Sagara Sōzō."

Tokio stiffened at the mention of the name and lowered her eyes.

"That is unfortunate." She murmured. "But it makes sense why he would be drawn to Himura Kenshin."

"Because he likes hypocrites?" Fujita's response did not miss a beat.

"Because he must be an idealist. All young men will look for a cause," she reached for his hand on her shoulder. "And older men would do well not to ridicule them, lest they forget why they grow old."

"Are you saying I've grown old?" Despite his irritated tone of voice, he did not draw away when she entwined her fingers through his with a smile.

"It must have been hard on him, after what happened to the Sekihōtai. He was probably too young to truly grasp what was going on." Sagara Sanosuke would have been a boy less than ten years of age at the time. "It also explains the jacket."

"Aren't you being very sympathetic about someone you've never even met?" He felt an indistinct objection to her taking the young man's side. "You've always had a low opinion of the Sekihōtai."

Before the Boshin War, while Tokugawa Yoshinobu was desperately seeking a way to avoid war and not lose face, Sagara Sōzō had instigated a series of terrorist attacks in Edo at the behest of the Satsuma-han. This was carried out in order to provoke the Bakufu side into battle, so that Satsuma and Chōshū could rationalize the overthrow of the Tokugawa and their allies. After enduring numerous arson incidents and violent assaults, the Shōnai-han retaliated and attacked the Satsuma headquarters in Edo. Reluctantly, the last shogun Yoshinobu was dragged into the fray, and Satsuma and Chōshū had the excuse they had long desired in waging war against him. As the new government army advanced eastwards, the Sekihōtai spread promises of halving the taxes and equal rights for all classes in order to win the support of peasants and merchants who might otherwise have sided with the Bakufu – promises that could never be kept due to the expenses of war and nation building. Subsequently, at the convenience of the senior ranks of the Ishin-Shishi, Sagara Sōzō had been executed for the crime of spreading false promises in the name of the new regime. It also served to get rid of a man who had populist appeal and who knew about their dirty deeds prior to the Meiji Restoration.

"I still have a low opinion of them," Tokio replied dryly. They had, after all, helped to destroy almost all that she had held dear in her youth. "But I understand what it means to be used as a scapegoat, and to be branded as the antithesis of everything you stood for."

"Aku ichimonji, eh?" He snorted. More than the Sekihōtai, it was Aizu that had been falsely tarnished and destroyed.

"Indeed. So, are you sure that he'll survive, or should I be worried that Himura Battousai will track us down and come seeking revenge?" She took the cup from his hand again and sipped.

"Ahou." He shot her a look of mild annoyance. "You know it would never come to that," he added with an edge to his voice. He was ruthless and meticulous in eliminating anything that might threaten his family, and he made sure that besides the official protection of the police organization, that there was other unofficial protection in place too. Nothing and nobody got close to them without his approval. The Battousai would be no exception.

"Yes, Hajime-sama." Her expression clouded over. "I just pray that things will go as you planned."

"Himura Kenshin won't be a problem. The bigger threat will be from Shishio Makoto's organization."

"But everything will be fine, one way or another." She trusted him in all matters.

"You'll need to take extra precautions until this mission is over." He trusted her to take care of herself also.

"An Aizu woman knows how to defend her castle, " she declared quietly.

He smirked at her statement. He had witnessed first hand just how fierce the women of Aizu could be in defense of their own, and Tokio was not a naïve young girl oblivious to the risks.

A cold wind stirred the koi-nobori that they had put up in the garden for the 'tango no sekku' festival day. The carp streamers swam in the lantern light – a large black one for the father, a red one for the mother, and a smaller blue one for their son. Fujita felt his wife shiver in his arms; he shared the last cup of sake with her, which brought a flush of warmth to her cheeks. The empty flask was their cue to retire for the night. He made a final inspection around the house, making sure that the entrances were properly locked and nothing was out of place. She put away her sewing box and cleared up the flasks and snack dishes.

Upstairs, Fujita checked his son's room. Their dog lifted her head to look at him from where she lay, with the small boy's arms around her neck and legs over her belly. She thumped her tail enthusiastically against the floor as he approached. The man crouched down and rolled the child back to the center of the futon, covering him with the blanket that he had kicked aside. He stayed for a few moments, stroking the dog's head. Tsutomu stirred but did not wake, and Muku closed her eyes again. The man stood up and turned as he heard his wife come up the stairs.

"He's grown." The baby's futon was almost too small for him now. Tsutomu was tall for his age, just like his father had been.

"Oh, I meant to tell you. When we were out today, he noticed that the Nakamura's had five carp on their koi-nobori and while I was talking to the mother, he knocked down the pole and tried to steal theirs. He cried that we only had three carp and it was unfair."

She hid her mouth behind her sleeve as she laughed at the memory. Tsutomu had not begun to talk properly yet, but as with all mothers, she could make out enough of his toddler's speech to understand what had upset him.

"Hah! If he wants us to put up more carp, you've got a good bit of work ahead of you." Fujita's voice was low and his grin wolfish, and he patted her shoulder as they headed down the corridor.

"You say that as though it's all on me." She blushed crimson. "Did I tell you, Kobayashi-san keeps telling me that he doesn't look much like you?"

"What the hell is that hag talking about?" He growled as they entered their own room.

"I told her that he has his father's eyes." She sat down at her mirror and unbound her hair.

"What about my eyes?" He met her reflected gaze as she took a brush to her tresses.

"Amber."

"And narrow?"

"Well, now that you mention it…."

"My narrow eyes, hmm." He seemed vaguely annoyed.

"…. Did somebody say something to you?" She looked at him with a curious expression.

"No, it's nothing." His appearance often attracted attention, not always positive.

"For what it's worth, I think your eyes are one of your best features." Her hair, still as dark as it had been in her younger days, shimmered in the lamplight.

"You do, do you?" He moved closer, sitting down behind her.

She saw that he had brought up the black t-shirt, and that he was holding it in his hand.

"Are you going to try it on?" She wanted to see how it fit.

"No." He smirked, watching her reflection for her reaction. "You are."

Tokio gauged him for a moment, and then smiled sweetly.

"Would you like me to put on your uniform jacket too while I'm at it?"

Another one of the many things that Fujita Gorō enjoyed about his wife was that she reacted wonderfully to his teasing – a constant contest of one-upmanship, which he did not always win. That night, it was Tokio who gained the upper hand; even so, he did not regret it. She did not give voice to the dark thoughts that lurked in the corners of her mind: the apprehension about his latest mission, the acknowledgement of the dangers he took upon himself, the frustration that beneath the façade of their peaceful lives, there was the ever present threat of violence. Nonetheless, he saw through her unspoken fears, and in his own unspoken way, he appealed to her belief in him, the absolute faith she had that he would always return to her side, and her trust that he would never betray her.

Elsewhere in Tokyo, the people of the Kamiya Dojo faced a sleepless night as they watched over the unconscious form of Sagara Sanosuke. Takani Megumi had done her utmost to treat the wound but the blood loss was severe. She, along with Kamiya Kaoru and Myojin Yahiko, had barely left his bedside. As for Himura Kenshin, although he had a firm idea who the perpetrator was, despite his lengthy meditations, he was no closer to establishing the motives behind the attack. He could never have imagined the course his life would take in the coming weeks. For Sanosuke too, it was the prelude to one of the defining battles of his life, and the introduction to a man that he would aspire to surpass for the rest of his days.

---

= Meiji Year 11 (1878) June – Tokyo =

Mishima Eiji was aware that he was being scrutinized as never before. His head was bowed low, hands placed on the tatami in front of him forming a little triangle, just as Tokio had taught him. It seemed an age before he heard the commanding voice of Matsudaira Teru.

"Be at ease."

He lifted his head slowly, and glanced anxiously at his foster mother, who smiled at him reassuringly; however, he still did not dare to look at the lady seated on the dais.

The princess of Aizu had always been possessed of an imperious bearing, and even though she was now living a quiet life in retirement, she had lost none of the sharpness dreaded among the men of Aizu.

"He's a little on the lean side – are you feeding him well, Tokio?" Teru addressed her favorite former attendant.

"I do my best, Hime." Tokio bowed. "Boys his age are always hungry, it seems." She held Tsutomu in her lap, who was being uncharacteristically silent and still.

"If you're in need of money, you know I'll do what I can to help." The older woman snapped open her fan. "Heavens know how Fujita provides adequately on a policeman's salary. Especially now with an extra mouth to feed."

"You are too kind, but my husband and I are doing quite alright." Tokio answered mildly, although Eiji's heart wrenched at the thought that he might be a financial burden on the family. Noticing the stricken look on his face, Tokio smiled at him again; he relaxed a little as he recalled her warning.

"Teru Hime-sama is quite a character, and you must not take her teasing to heart. In particular, she finds great amusement in needling me about Danna-sama."

"And where is that wayward husband of yours? Gallivanting around the country again? He never comes to pay his respects, that ingrate." Teru looked over the edge of her fan with narrowed eyes.

While Eiji's mouth opened in astonishment at the noblewoman's blunt words, Tokio merely inclined her head without the slightest hint that she was offended.

"A civil servant's time is not his own, unfortunately."

Before Teru could make any more comment about Fujita Gorō, another guest was announced. Yamakawa Futaba had just arrived, and as she greeted Teru and Tokio, she begged their pardon for being late.

"A neighbor's boy was climbing a tree, and he fell and broke his arm. I was helping to look after him until the doctor arrived."

"Oh dear, I hope he'll be alright." Tokio frowned in sympathy.

"The doctor said it was a clean break and easy to set. But he did pass out from the pain several times." Futaba said matter-of-factly, although her stern features softened as she recalled the cries of the child. Turning over her shoulder towards the corridor, she then called out, "Kagekiyo, come inside and pay your respects."

A boy, about the same age as Eiji or a little older, entered the room quietly. Eiji watched him as he bowed in a practiced manner to the company.

"Kagekiyo, you've grown again." Teru looked appraisingly at Futaba's son, just as she had done with Eiji. "Are you keeping up with your studies?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Kagekiyo answered in a small but clear voice. "I am studying hard in order to become a doctor."

"Well! A doctor, is it? It's good to have a clear goal and medicine is a most respectable profession. You shall do us all proud." Teru nodded in approval.

"He's got a long way to go," his mother said modestly, but with a glint of obvious pride in her eyes. "And you must be Mishima Eiji-san. I've heard about you from my brothers Hiroshi and Kenjirō." She turned her attention to the Fujitas' ward.

"Hajimemashite, yoroshiku onegai-shimasu." Eiji stuttered a little as he returned her greeting.

"You boys are about the same age. You should get along well." Teru said, an order rather than an observation. Tokio and Futaba bowed their heads in unison at her words, as the boys glanced curiously at each other.

When Tokio had told Eiji that he was to accompany her to meet the former princess, he had tried to avoid it at first. The son of a farmer could never have imagined being in the presence of a noble and the mere notion scared him. However, when Tokio had insisted that it would please her greatly, he knew that it was not his place to refuse. She also told him that there was someone she would like to introduce him to.

"Kagekiyo-san is a good boy, and his mother and I have known each other since childhood. I'm sure you will become friends."

Kagekiyo was probably told something similar by his mother, Eiji thought.

"Now, why don't you two go and play. I'm sure you'd much rather do that than sit here and listen to us talk. Kagekiyo, you know your way around so look after him." Teru dismissed them with a wave of her fan and Kagekiyo bowed obediently and got to his feet. He waited for Eiji to do the same.

Eiji fidgeted nervously, looking anxiously towards Tokio for guidance.

"Have fun, Eiji-san." She urged him encouragingly, and Eiji nodded.

"Behave yourself, Kagekiyo." Futaba said to her son, more out of habit than actual concern.

As Eiji got up, Tsutomu struggled to get out of his mother's arms and ran over to the older boy.

"I see he's quite attached to you already." Futaba commented on Tsutomu's beaming face as Eiji reached down to take his small hand.

"Would you mind if he went with you?" Tokio asked Kagekiyo, knowing that Eiji would gladly take him along.

"Come along then, Tsutomu-kun." Kagekiyo addressed the toddler seriously, and bowing once more to the women, retreated from the room.

The women watched the boys leave, and as they disappeared down the hall, Tokio let out a sigh.

"Thank you very much, Futaba-sama, Hime-sama. I've been worried that Eiji-san doesn't want to play with the children in our neighborhood."

"He seems like a well-mannered boy," Teru said, and then called for a maid to bring out refreshments.

"He is, and he's good-natured, despite all that he's been through," Tokio said with feeling. It would have made things considerably more difficult for her had Eiji been a contrary or mean-spirited child.

"So will he continue to live with your family then?" Futaba had been as surprised as anyone when she heard that Tokio's husband had brought home an orphan.

"For now, yes. We'll have a proper discussion about his future once my husband returns." A cloud passed over Tokio's expression as she thought about Fujita, and she changed the subject. "But Kagekiyo-san has grown taller. And how wonderful that he's aiming to become a doctor!"

"The doctor you mentioned earlier, the one who tended to the boy with the broken arm," Teru cut in, "it wasn't Takani Megumi, was it?"

"No – Takani-sensei's clinic is too far from where we live." Futaba shook her head.

"Have you any more news of her?" Teru turned to Tokio.

The maid returned with tea and some sweets, and Tokio considered her answer as she recalled the conversation she had had with her husband the previous month.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything new to tell you, after I met her in April." She took a sip of tea. "I'm planning to take Tsutomu for a check-up later this month."

"I still can't believe that Takani Ryūsei's daughter turned up here in Tokyo, and a doctor at that, after all these years." Futaba said wistfully. "Our physician knew about her; he says that she's quite famous as the new lady doctor."

"Fufu, I should say so." Teru picked up a small sugar cake shaped like a flower. "I must remind Katamori that something ought to be done to help her. Has Fujita not been able to find any trace of her family yet?"

"Unfortunately, he has not had the time to go to Aizu to conduct his own search. He only found out about her situation in March, and he has been very busy recently." Tokio said apologetically. She smiled inwardly that if Teru had her way, her husband would spend all of his time tracking down missing persons from Aizu.

There had been so many families and lives shattered during the course of the Boshin War, and more than a decade later, the wounds still ran deep. Takani Megumi had survived a living hell, the same as the women who were now gathered discussing her fate, unbeknownst to her. When Fujita had discovered who she was in the course of his investigation into Himura Kenshin, he had mused to his wife about the twists of fate. He remembered her father who had treated the injured Hijikata Toshizō in Wakamatsu. He had hesitated to tell Tokio about the extent of the daughter's involvement in Takeda Kanryū's opium operation and subsequent relationship with the Battousai, but in the end, he had decided that he had no reason to hide it from her. He understood that Tokio would want to know, and that she would feel compelled to act. The women of Aizu were fiercely loyal, and their strength lay not only in their individual characters but also the solidarity of their feelings. Although she did not know it yet, Takani Megumi had gained some stout supporters who would help her on her future path. As fraught with sorrow as her life had been, she was no longer alone in the world.

---

= Meiji Year 11 (1878) April – Tokyo =

"Fujita Tokio-san, please come in." Takani Megumi called for the next patient on the waiting list.

"Yoroshiku onegai shimasu, Takani-sensei." The mother bowed as she carried her child into the examination room.

"I see you're here about your son today." The doctor indicated that she should sit on the stool next to hers.

"Yes. My son, Tsutomu, had a rather high fever yesterday. He seems to be better now but I was worried and – " Tokio sat down, holding the young boy in her lap.

"You wanted to make sure. Of course, I understand," Megumi said not unkindly. Something about the woman's way of talking caused a surge of nostalgic feeling in Megumi's heart. Nonetheless, she maintained her professional and objective demeanor.

"How long did the fever last?"

"For a day – I noticed he seemed feverish in the morning when I changed his night clothes, and he's usually so energetic but I could barely wake him up."

"Any other symptoms?"

"His nose has been congested and runny."

"Have you seen any rash on his skin?"

"No, thank heavens." Concern flashed in the mother's eyes. "Otherwise I would have brought him straight to the hospital."

Megumi appreciated that the woman was aware of the signs of the more serious childhood diseases. She proceeded to inquire about the boy's general health and any history of illness that ran in the family.

"My younger sister, Tami, was a weak child and prone to sickness. She passed away when she was only sixteen years old…" Tokio lowered her gaze wistfully

The name 'Tami' rang a bell and Megumi found herself looking more closely at the mother than the child. Although the woman spoke in the standardized speech of the capital, there were the unmistakable inflections in her voice that gave away her background. Bittersweet memories of childhood rose unbidden to the surface of her mind.

"Pardon me, but are you from Aizu?" Megumi's voice quivered as she recalled the kindly face of an older woman who had taken care of her during the siege of the castle. "You're not by any chance related to Takagi Katsuko-sama?"

"Takagi Katsuko was my mother." Tokio murmured, falling back into the dialect of her homeland. "And Takagi Tami was my younger sister."

"Then you must have been the lady with Teru Hime-sama during the war?" Megumi blinked rapidly. She indistinctly recalled seeing the princess from a distance, flanked by her attendants – even in the midst of war, the women had retained a certain glamor.

"I am touched that you would remember me and my family, Takani-sensei." Tokio smiled ever so warmly at the other woman, whose doctor's mask had crumbled for the moment and been replaced by the expression of a young girl staring in wonder. "Your father was so kind as to treat my sister on occasion. I was so sorry to hear that he did not survive the war…. But I am certainly glad to meet you."

Megumi bowed her head, even as she felt herself reeling with emotion. She had not met anyone from Aizu in the five years since she had arrived in Tokyo; feelings of surprise, joy, sorrow and shame welled up in her chest all at once.

"I'm sorry, I hope I did not make you uncomfortable. My son really was sick, and I heard that there was an excellent doctor from Aizu at this clinic," Tokio hastened to add. "I know that all the members of your family were most dedicated to their vocation, and I would trust your opinion more than any other doctor in the country."

Megumi felt her cheeks grow hot as the pleasure she felt at the praise conflicted with the guilt that she had incurred in the not so distant past.

"You knew who I was before you came here?" Megumi tried to regain her composure.

"Yes. I remembered Takani Ryūsei's young daughter, assisting in the infirmary at the castle while we were under siege. I heard about you from my mother and sister too, how hard you worked and how brave you were." Katsuko and Tami had worked alongside the doctors and other women in tending to the wounded. Tokio had also treated her fair share of injuries.

"Tami-nee-sama was very kind to me." Megumi pictured the slim, pale figure of a girl barely in her teens; Tami had comforted her when her family had left for the battlefield and she had been left on her own.

"Tami always wanted a younger sibling." Tokio's eyes glistened at the memory of her baby sister, who had been the darling of the family.

"You said she passed away?"

"Seven years ago, in Tonami. My parents also."

"I'm very sorry to hear that…."

Megumi needed no further explanation. Tonami, with its harsh winters and barren soil, had been a death sentence for many. Whether they remained in Wakamatsu or left for Tonami, there existed no easy path for the people of Aizu after their defeat. Megumi had stayed in Wakamatsu, barely eleven years old and living off what charity she could find, unwilling to give up hope that she would be reunited with her family. Even as the months turned into years, she had endured the suffering of lost children – always looking for the faces of her mother and brothers wherever she went. An orphan's life in the ravaged city was truly pitiful; there were times when she thought she would have been better off dead. Still, she had survived. She was bright and resourceful and would not succumb. She had even managed to study. She had made the decision to leave Wakamatsu only for the reason that it would bring her closer to her long-cherished dreams, and she had arrived in Tokyo with faith that the future held better and brighter things. Instead, she had encountered a bleakness and misery to rival that which she had left behind.

Overwhelmed with all these thoughts and finding herself unable to continue the conversation, she wordlessly resumed examining Tsutomu. For a while, the only sound was that of Tsutomu's giggles as the cold metal of the stethoscope touched his chest. Megumi made a few notes, then weighed and measured him.

"He seems like a very healthy child," Megumi said with a faint curve of her lips and tickled Tsutomu's belly, making him squirm with delight. "Tall for his age, and a good weight. He's strong too." Tokio sighed in relief, and the doctor continued. "Children often get fevers that pass quickly so the best thing to do is to make sure he's comfortable and gets plenty of fluids. Good nutrition is also key. Check his diapers to make sure he's digesting properly. If the fever lasts for more than two days and he refuses to feed, or if you see any signs of a rash, make sure to bring him back immediately."

"My husband told me I was overreacting and that it was probably just a cold." Tokio murmured self-consciously. In truth, if it had not been for the fact that she wanted an excuse to meet Megumi, she probably would not have come.

"Not at all, it's perfectly normal for a mother to be concerned about her child." It was far more troubling, thought Megumi, when a mother did not worry about the wellbeing of her children.

"I might be more protective than most. He's my first child, and as you can see, I am not so young." The color rose to Tokio's cheeks as she admitted to the doctor a fear that she guarded privately.

"I see…." It was unusual for a woman to have her first child in her thirties (Megumi surmised Tokio's age) and it did not always bode well for the mother or child; however, she saw no reason to worry. "So long as you were healthy and looked after yourself during pregnancy, there's little cause for concern regarding age. For your son, I'll give you a medicine for fever reduction if it will put your mind at ease, but often, it's better if he can sweat it out and rest."

"Thank you very much, Takani-sensei." Tokio bowed low, and Megumi returned it gracefully. "If I may be so bold…. I am sure your family would be so proud of you."

Although there was no malice behind her words, Megumi flinched and her stomach seemed to lurch into her chest.

"I'm sure that it must have been difficult…. All of us who lived through the war have struggled." Tokio ventured cautiously, watching how far she could tread without upsetting the younger woman. "We did what we needed to in order to survive. But no matter what indignities we have been subjected to or inhuman hardships we have overcome, we have a right to every happiness that we are granted."

"Yes…." Megumi hardly dared to say any more. She was seized by the notion that Tokio had seen through her crimes and she tensed up. Tokio's expression, however, showed only kindness and compassion.

Tokio had known too many people who had taken their own lives, unable to bear the humiliation that came with defeat or in order to preserve their honor. There were others who had fallen into a life of crime and depravity. The brothels advertised the services of the wives and daughters of formerly high-ranking households – women she had grown up with, women she had looked up to or looked after. The sons of proud samurai families roamed the countryside as bandits and brigands – they had lost hope for a decent life. Childhood friends had married enemy soldiers, or had become their mistresses, in order to find some measure of security; although Tokio would never begrudge them for it, whether it was out of shame or guilt or simply a desire to forget, most avoided contact with their countrymen. There were also those who refused to let go of the past and cursed those who had found some comfort and reprieve in the present. Tokio had been fortunate, and she never ceased to be grateful for the life that she had attained, though she had suffered too.

"We all do what we must to survive..." Megumi felt a pang as Tokio's keen gaze seemed to pierce to the core of her. "Takani-sensei, people like you are the pride of Aizu. And you must believe me when I say that if there is anything that I can do for you, to help you in any way, that I would be honored to do so – both for your own sake and for your family's." It was not an offer that she made lightly, and her sincerity struck Megumi.

"No, I can hardly be called that…." Megumi whispered and closed her eyes. "You do not know how I have lived my life…." What was it about other people's kindness that tempted confession?

Tokio haltingly reached out to grasp her trembling hands.

"No matter what has befallen you, I have no doubt that you are a kind and strong woman. As such, you are our pride…." Her words were like a balm to the younger woman's invisible wounds. "I say it again, that I am certainly glad to meet you."

Megumi managed to smile back, her eyes glistening with emotion. She drew strength and solace as she thought about the man who had given her a chance for redemption; if Himura Kenshin could struggle on in his search for atonement, bearing all the burden of the lives he had taken, then she must not falter in her chosen path either.

"Thank you, Fujita-san." She inhaled deeply and blinked back the tears. "I must say, it has been so long since I have talked to anyone from Aizu, and someone who knew my family at that. I'm afraid that I've become quite emotional."

"As have I." Tokio bowed her head. "Every time I meet someone who lived through that hell, it's all I can do to keep myself from crying."

"Then, may I ask, have you heard anything about my mother and brothers in recent years?" Megumi asked tentatively, her heart beating a little faster. It had been so long since she had asked anyone that question; during her time under Takeda Kanryū's thumb, it had been impossible to continue her search.

"I'm afraid not…." Tokio shook her head regretfully. She had uncharacteristically pushed her husband for such information that he might be able to discover before coming to see Megumi, but she had been disappointed. It could not be helped, she knew, for it could hardly be considered a priority for him at the present time. "However, I do have ties to the Aizu community here in Tokyo, including former retainers, and Teru Hime-sama and our lord. I will be sure to do what I can to spread the word that you are looking for them."

"I cannot tell you how much I would be appreciate such consideration." It seemed to Megumi that a crushing burden had suddenly been made lighter; it seemed too good to be true, that this woman had turned up out of the blue and offered to assist her, even going as far as to say that she would inform Matsudaira Katamori and Teru of her situation. "I have been," she bit her bottom lip for a second, "unable to act of my own accord for the last few years, and I did not know where I should begin to search…. I don't have anyone in Aizu to rely on, nor any place to go home to there."

"Forgive me for being nosy, but do you intend to stay in Tokyo then?"

Megumi could tell that Tokio had avoided asking her uncomfortable questions about her past and she was grateful for her discretion.

"I have not yet decided. Oguni-sensei has been very good to me, and I am just happy to be able to practice medicine." Her fortunes had turned around in the space of a few weeks, and where there had only been despair, she again had hope for the future. It was all thanks to the kindness of the most unlikely strangers. "But to be honest, I had always intended to return to Aizu as a doctor, once I completed my studies in Tokyo. However, I think it would be better for me to stay here a little while longer…." Megumi bowed her head. There were people here that she had grown to care about and bonds that she now cherished. She needed some time to heal after her recent ordeals, for it was only a short time ago that she had been so desperate as to try to end her life.

"I understand. In that case, I hope you won't mind if we keep in touch. I know there are other people who will be very glad to help you."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Doctor Oguni peered inside.

"Excuse me, Megumi-kun. I'm going to leave now to go make my house calls." The older gentleman doctor noticed Tokio. "Oh! On second thoughts, why don't I take over examining this lovely lady and you can go see my patients instead!" He grinned widely at the two women.

"Oguni-sensei, old men would do better to look after each other and not bother women with their lechery." Megumi tossed her head disdainfully.

"Haha, healing comes from the spirit and it would be good for those old men to be examined by a beautiful young doctor rather than an fellow geezer like me. What do you say, Megumi-kun? Shall we switch rounds? Now madam, what ails you? Your chest? Your buttocks?" Oguni moved enthusiastically towards Tokio; Megumi pulled him back by his ear.

"Actually, I've already finished the examination. She just needs some children's medicine." She glared at her mentor. "Really, have you no shame! Fujita-san, I'll prepare your prescription right now."

"Thank you very much, Takani-sensei. I hope I have not been too forward in our conversation today." Tokio seemed amused by the interaction between the two doctors.

"Not at all." Megumi appeared again as a bashful young girl in the presence of an admired older lady. "And thank you, Fujita-san. I too am glad to have met you…."

"If I may ask another favor…." Tokio blushed just a touch, not wanting to appear presumptuous. "Your father used to make a very effective salve for cuts and wounds. You wouldn't happen to make the same medicine, would you?"

"You know about that?" Megumi was surprised again. "Well, in fact, I recently made a batch. It's not much, but I can give you some to take with you, if you would like." She had prepared it according to the secret family tradition, in the event that Himura Kenshin and his friends might need it. After all, it seemed unlikely that his days of fighting were over.

"Oh, I would be so grateful!" Tokio clasped her hands together. It had stopped many a bleeding wound during the war, and it would ease her concerns somewhat to have it on hand, considering the battles ahead for her husband.

"Megumi-kun, you're being very nice today. If you were like this with all our patients, then they wouldn't call you Kitsune-sensei." Oguni cackled, earning him another glare from Megumi.

"Hmph! Better a fox than a raccoon," she stated haughtily. "You better get going, Sensei. Or have you gone senile and forgotten that you were on your way out?"

Despite Megumi's cutting manner, there was genuine affection and respect in their relationship. As she bid good day to the mother and child, the little boy waving until they turned the corner, Megumi felt a tenderness in her heart that she had not experienced in so long. Fujita Tokio had reminded her of many things; both good and bad, sad and sweet, that she had not talked about in so long. After a long period of misery, she was was now able to enjoy a sense of accomplishment and of peace again.

"Kitsune-sensei!" Her next patient brought her out of her reverie. "I've come for my check up!"

Megumi sighed. It was all Sagara Sanosuke's fault that the nickname had stuck; he had gotten into the habit of bringing around 'friends' who had obviously been in fights, or scrounging for handouts when Kaoru refused to feed him.

"We have a right to every happiness we are granted….You are a kind and strong woman…. "

The words echoed in her mind. As the daughter of the Takani family, she would spend the rest of her life making amends for her past, and she would not lose faith in her path again. Perhaps, one day, she might even forgive herself.

---

= Meiji Year 11 (1878) June – Tokyo =

"Can we play outside? We left Muku tied up in the courtyard, and I don't think she likes to be on her own." Eiji asked his assigned playmate as they walked down the corridor.

"You mean the big dog the Fujitas own?" Kagekiyo frowned. "Isn't it scary?"

"No – she is big, but she's friendly." Eiji remembered that he had been nervous when he had first seen the animal. "Have you not met her before?"

"Once." After a breath, he added, "she barked at me when I visited the Fujitas." Since then, he had been reluctant to approach the dog.

"She was probably just saying hello," Eiji explained, sensing the other boy's apprehension. "She barks to let the family know that they have visitors."

"Is that all?"

"Yep."

"Alright, we can go outside." Kagekiyo tried not to show that he was anxious. "By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm almost eleven."

"That means I'm older – I'm twelve." Kagekiyo drew himself up to his full height. "What part of Aizu is your family from? Wakamatsu?"

Eiji tensed visibly and squeezed Tsutomu's hand involuntarily, causing the toddler to babble in protest.

"Oh, sorry, Tsutomu." He took a deep breath and looked Kagekiyo straight in the eye. "My family is from near Numazu, in Shizuoka."

"So you have nothing to do with Aizu then? Why are you living with the Fujitas?" Kagekiyo caught Eiji's dark expression, and remembered his manners. "I'm sorry. Mother told me not to be nosy. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."

"I don't think you'd understand, and I'm not really supposed to talk about it," Eiji said guardedly, wary that the boy would take offense.

"Suit yourself. We all have things we'd rather not talk about." Kagekiyo shrugged.

"You too?" Eiji looked up at the older boy.

"My family is from Aizu." Kagekiyo shrugged again, as though his statement was self-explanatory.

Eiji nodded, although now he could not help but be curious about what secrets the boy might be keeping.

"Your uncles are fun." Eiji tried to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah, they're cool. Though Mother gets angry at them for doing crazy things sometimes." Kagekiyo said with a short laugh. "You're not afraid to live with the Fujitas?"

"Afraid? Why?" Eiji was taken aback by the question. "Tokio-san is very nice."

"She is, but she's just as bossy as Mother – and Fujita-san is scary!" Kagekiyo emphasized the last part. "He used to come to our house sometimes and drink with my uncles, but one time, he forced Uncle Kenjirō to spar with him and ended up destroying a tree in the garden. Mother was furious. I don't think he's been back since – Mother is scary too."

"Really?" Eiji laughed in astonishment; he had only known the man for a few days but he did not seem the type to let saké go to his head. "Well, I haven't spent a lot of time with him so I don't know whether he's actually scary or not. I think he's a good guy though."

"Huh. He is a friend of my uncles, I guess. Although, it's more like he's friends with Uncle Hiroshi and they both bully Uncle Kenjirō." Kagekiyo snickered.

As they came to the courtyard, Muku yipped excitedly. Eiji showed Kagekiyo how to approach her properly, and the boy seemed pleased that the dog was not nearly as menacing as he had assumed. Tsutomu began to chase Muku, who obliged in his game. After watching the antics of the toddler and the dog for a while, the older boy took out some marbles.

"What rules do you want to play by?" He divided up the brightly colored toys evenly.

"I don't know how to play," Eiji admitted.

"What do you play with your friends then?" Kagekiyo looked up from his counting.

"There were no other children my age in my village. And we didn't really play…." Eiji flushed. Life under Senkaku's rule had been stripped of most childhood joys.

"Don't you go to school now?" Even as Kagekiyo asked the question, he saw that Eiji was embarrassed and troubled.

"Not yet…. Tokio-san says I need to study a little more before I can attend. I do my lessons every day with her though." Eiji looked down and scuffed his toe in the dirt. He remembered that Kagekiyo had said that he was studying to be a doctor. "You're probably really smart." There was a note of challenge in his voice.

"Mother makes me study all the time – she's the one who really wants me to be a doctor." The older boy noticed that Eiji was now looking at him apprehensively, as though he expected Kagekiyo to make fun of him. "I'd rather be a soldier like Uncle Hiroshi, to be honest, but I don't think she'd let me."

"Why don't you ask your father then?" Eiji asked, the thought crossing his mind that Kagekiyo might be one of those boys who were tied to their mothers' aprons.

Kagekiyo picked up a particularly large blue marble and held it up to the sun, squinting at the light that passed through it. A long moment passed before he decided to answer.

"I don't have a father." He did not meet Eiji's eye.

"Oh." Eiji's heart sunk at his gaffe.

"I guess I don't mind telling you, because you're an orphan." Kagekiyo's words hit hard, and Eiji blanched, but there was no spite intended. "I don't think he's dead, because we don't have an altar for him or anything, but nobody will tell me about him, except that he was a fine samurai."

"I'm sorry." Eiji recognized by the tone of his voice that this information was not something that Kagekiyo volunteered often.

The older boy shrugged, trying to maintain a casual façade that hid a deep longing in his soul.

"So, do you want to learn how to play?"

Time slipped away quickly and quietly as the children engrossed themselves in their games – all the seriousness of their youth focused on the perfect move, the biggest prize. Gleeful shouts rang out and anguished cries rent the air, and occasionally, the older boys would allow Tsutomu to join in. As the sun drew closer to the horizon, the women came to call them away; seeing that the boys were just about to finish a round, they watched from the engawa while they waited.

"They look like they're having fun – I'm so glad." Tokio smiled warmly at her friend. "Thank you very much, Futaba-san."

"No need to thank me. Hiroshi and Kenjirō told me that Eiji-san is a good child. It's good that they're getting along." Futaba nodded in approval. "I do worry about my son – I've done my best to bring him up right, but even though he's obedient and respectful at home, he loses his temper and gets into fights with the older boys at school."

"Oh my, is he still being picked on?" Tokio had heard before that her friend's son was subject to bullying about his background and parentage; she had sympathized and tried to offer advice, but children must fight their own battles too.

"I tell him not to heed the troublemakers, but boys will be boys. I remember Hiroshi at his age was often getting into scrapes too." Futaba pursed her lips.

"I know we shouldn't coddle our sons…." Tokio looked towards the boys again and her gaze rested on her own child. "But when we think of all of life's hardships, it's hard not to want to wrap them up and hold them close to you forever."

"We just want to give them everything that we used to have. What's so wrong with that?" Futaba said wistfully.

"Ah! Tsutomu! Don't stick that in your nose!" Eiji's voice rang out, and he wrested a large marble from the toddler's grip.

"Nooo! And I was just about to win!" Kagekiyo dug his fingers into his hair in frustration.

Tokio and Futaba laughed at the sight; it was a scene of peacefulness that they would never take for granted. Children were resilient, and their laughter renewed the spirits of their parents who wished for them only the best. A loving home, a safe childhood, the warmth of happy days. Now that it seemed their hardest struggles were behind them, people of the Meiji era were filled with optimism. It was a time of cultural enlightenment, when every day brought new and exciting opportunities from the wide world beyond their borders. A land that had once cloistered itself away in fear of all things foreign now embraced all the wonders that they had never even imagined, and the West too was enamored of Japan. More than ten years after the Bakumatsu, peace and prosperity had finally returned to the country.

It was for this very reason, Tokio reflected, that men like Fujita Gorō and Himura Kenshin fought. And as she said a silent prayer for their success, she also prayed for the young people who had followed Himura to Kyoto, to show him he was not fighting alone and that he had a place to call his own. She thought as well of Takani Megumi, whom she knew had stayed in Tokyo, though Tokio could imagine how she must have struggled to restrain the urge to join her friends. She importuned the gods to be kind to them, to have mercy for all that they had suffered so far.

---

That same evening, hidden away in the mountains around Kyoto, Himura Kenshin reflected on the words of his master, the thirteenth Hiko Seijurō of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū. Hiko had set Himura a deadline: find the element that was lacking in his spirit, which held the key to the ultimate and most powerful technique of their school. If he failed to do so, then he would die; if Hiko did not kill him, then Shishio Makoto undoubtedly would. This vital quality was not something that could be taught – the man who had been feared as the Hitokiri Battousai needed to discover it for himself. He would stay up all night, pondering, questioning, re-examining the decisions that he had made up to that point. He weighed the value of his own life against all those that he had taken and found himself wanting. The answer to Hiko's question eluded him, and he faced the dawn with apprehension and doubt.

If Himura could have heard Tokio's prayers then, for him, for his friends, and most of all for her husband, perhaps it might have helped him see the truth earlier. As it was, it was only on the brink of certain death that he found it within himself: just how much he desired to live, that his life did not belong only to himself but also to those who cared about him, who were waiting for him to come back to them, who wanted to share in his future. When he grasped that truth, he also found a new lease on life. Having mastered the final technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, his preparations for battle against Shishio Makoto were now complete.

The following day, a carriage drew up at the Kyoto Police Headquarters, and the short, red-headed swordsman was greeted by his former enemy.

"Hey. Arriving by carriage on an weekday afternoon, like you're some kind of important official, huh?" Saitou Hajime called from the open window. "So, how is it? Have you resolved to become the Hitokiri once again?"

Himura Kenshin smiled and answered,

"Well, I wouldn't be sure about that."

As astute as Saitou Hajime was, he immediately recognized that the man before him was manifestly different to the one he had fought only a few weeks prior in Tokyo. It disturbed Saitou, for the man seemed more confident than ever; contrary to what he had expected, Himura was even further away from reverting to the Hitokiri Battousai than before. Tokio would have told him that the world was full of contradictions, and that people were allowed to change. She was not wrong, Saitou reflected, and he would have time to contemplate those changes later. For the moment, the more pressing issue at hand was that of Shishio Makoto's imminent plan for the Great Kyoto Fire. It would be Saitou's first real command against Shishio's forces, and he could not afford to lose, for the sake of his Shinsengumi comrades who had died to protect the city, for the sake of his fellow police officers, for the sake of his wife and child, and for the future of Japan.

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Author's Notes: cultural references and posts as usual on the MKR blog - go to profile page for links!

RK FANS REJOICE! Two new live-action sequels based on the Kyoto arc are scheduled for release in 2014! How excited are we! And yes, I hope to high heavens that they include *that* infamous scene, the one that spawned a thousand fanfics, the only mention of the other main character of my fics!

Eeni is also hard at work on the doujinshi, so please send her your love (Chapter 6 should be up soon!). Also, for those of you not following my recaps of "Yae no Sakura", the series is now at its climax - the Battle of Aizu - and we've just started to see some scenes of Tokio/Saitou interaction! Spoilers assure fans that we will see the couple in their Meiji days also!

Thank you so much to all you wonderful readers and especially to the reviewers! If you left me a note, then I'm sure I replied but if not, please let me know! (I've been trying to keep on top of correspondence as best as I can.) Special thanks to externaldarkness for proofreading and to Eeni for letting me bounce ideas around. I'm humbled and grateful for all your support and patience as this story is not so conventional and is really quite dense. In this chapter, I chose to include Sano and Megumi because those two kinda go together in my mind (not just in a shipping way). I wanted to shine a light on how Saitou and Tokio might have perceived the two. Just a few notes:

- Sagara Sanosuke: I apologize to Sano fans if you think I've played up the "idiot" card. The thing is, I actually have a much higher opinion of Sano than Saitou does, and seeing as it's written from a Saitou perspective…. I've always wondered how Sano and Saitou got along at the police station after volume 11 until Kenshin showed up. People who watched the Shin-Kyoto-hen were given one version of events - this is just another take on that. I just don't see them being so chummy-chummy, and they definitely have unresolved issues from their first encounter. Regarding the Sekihotai, the references that Sano makes to Tsunan in volume 6 about their dirty deeds in the past are true.

- Takani Megumi: Ever since I learned that Tokio was from Aizu, I have always wanted to write a scene with the two of them together. I admit that it was entirely self-indulgent of me. However, as an Aizu fangirl (it's my main obsession at the moment), I wanted to try to capture Megumi's past. The Boshin War was traumatic enough, but dealing in opium carried a death sentence back in the Meiji era - this was no small potatoes that Megumi had a hand in. She has arguably the most tragic past of the whole RK canon story; I think it's wonderful that she was given a second chance!

- Chief Shimozaki: Technically, he's never named in any of the RK works. However, I couldn't keep calling him Chief, so I used the name of his voice actor. It's not canon, but I hope you'll forgive me.

- Saitou's black t-shirt: did anyone else wonder why he wore a proper collared shirt for the first few chapters he appeared in and then suddenly changed? Let's go with "Tokio made it for him" rather than "Watsuki realized that it was too troublesome for Saitou to wear white shirts with all the bloodiness involved".

- Saitou on Kenshin: As I've said before, Saitou's opinions about Kenshin are not my own, but I do think his points are valid. His opinion also evolves over the course of the manga, so I wanted to try and show a little bit of that in this work as well.

It was nerve wracking writing Sano and Megumi, trying to keep them in character but not falling for cliches. I apologize that I wasn't able to do that as well as I would have liked. As always, I will be looking forward to hearing your thoughts and comments, and I'm always up for a fangirl discussion! Your messages and reviews motivate me so much - thank you very much again in advance! Next chapter - Kenshin makes his first real appearance! (I'm sweating at the mere thought of tackling that...)