Author's Note: The screams were acknowledged but I started work and survived my mandatory 2 weeks of straight night shifts. Anyway, Chapter 4's foreshadowing finally comes into play! Please let me know what you think!

Even though he had both of his arms, one was enough to cradle his baby daughter. Bright eyes stared up at his face, as he walked back and forth. It was a typical occurrence, when she cried in the middle of the night. But unlike the other times, he did not want her to sleep. He rarely saw her awake during the day.

Kaoru smiled, oblivious.

A flash of lightning, and it became a sunlit morning. Kaoru was pulling herself to her feet, not quite accustomed to doing so yet and using the table for support. She beamed as she recognized him. "Otou!"

Ah, he remembered this. "Yes, Otou is here." His throat ached, it was the first time she'd ever called him her father. "Otou is here. Good job, Kaoru."

Her knees buckled under her, and she fell with a sound of surprise. Her plush arms reached upwards, wanting to be held. He obliged, her little face brushing his own in a butterfly-light touch.

"Otou." She happily repeated. "Otou, Otou!"

"Yes. It's alright, Kaoru. You're safe." Safe and healthy and without worry. He kissed her forehead, and she smelled sweet.

Then, she was a young girl, her ribbon almost larger than her ponytail. She swung her shinai, performing a kata in the dojo. She finished and twirled in place, before running up to him. "I did it!"

"Yes, you did. Excellent, Kaoru." He patted her head, and her expression broke into a happy grin, her little fingers tightening on the shinai. Pride and joy surged within him. She was growing up fast, she'd be ready to teach before he knew it. He had to add her name to the row of placards, and his vision moved to the other end, where the school's name was displayed.

Why did he turn away?

When he looked back, he saw her blood-soaked body against the wall, her face vacant. She did not move, no matter how many times he called her name. That was how he woke, not with a scream or a jolt, but slowly, agonizingly, with tears running down his face. His daughter was dead.

Oh, gods. He retched, and only sour water came up, burning his throat. It should have been him, he'd give anything to switch places with Kaoru.

His hand rose to the bandaged side of his head, where the second dagger had grazed. And his left shoulder throbbed with fresh pain, now that he opened his eyes. Staying in his futon was tempting, but he had to check on the others. All he was aware of was that Saito had left at midnight, taking Kujiranami into formal custody. By now, the station had to know what happened.

Somehow, he managed to stumble into the hallway. Morning had never been so quiet in this house. Each step was heavy, and he didn't hear any others. He halted at the sight of the table. There were still six cushions. He tore his gaze away, only to fix upon the altar. His mother's portrait, and Kyoko's somber expression. The fragrant incense.

I have to make room-

Nausea swept over him again and he barely made it outside before retching again. He spat up clear liquid, his stomach tightening. Then, he collapsed, holding onto the porch's edge.

Kaoru was gone. All that remained was emptiness. What could possibly be done, now that the worst had happened? In this repressive heat, the funeral would have to be today. Another plot, besides Kyoko's. And how could he possibly face her gravestone? He'd broken the final promise he swore to her, when she was dying in the hospital. He failed to protect their little girl.

There was no page Kyoko had written, for the possibility that he'd outlive Kaoru.

"Kamiya-san!" Takani's voice was hoarse, and with some struggle, he spotted her hurrying in his direction. "I was about to check on you. How's your head?"

"I would rather have lost it." He bitterly answered.

She closed her eyes. "I know. I know, and I can't tell you how sorry I am. All I can tell you is that your wounds are clean, but that doesn't matter right now." She paused, bringing her trembling fingers to her lips. A choked whimper escaped her, a remnant from a recent bout of sobbing. "I'll give you something to help you sleep-"

"Let me see my daughter."

"…Yes. Yes, of course." She led him to the smallest room in the house, that had been primarily used for storage. "I'll be out here, if you need me." Carefully, the door closed, leaving Koshijiro alone with the body.

The air was stifling. He stepped closer, ignoring the fresh tears blurring his vision.

From the door, she looked asleep, as if he could call out to her and she would turn over, grumbling for five more minutes. But she never slept with the blanket only up to her waist, and he couldn't hear her breathe at all. Someone, most likely Takani, had let her hair down. She had already been prepared for burial, dressed in a white kimono that was wrapped right over left. A bandage had been placed on her cheek, to hide the cuts that mirrored a particular cross-shaped scar.

When he stopped at her side, he blinked and frowned. He vigorously wiped his eyes, but…something nagged him. He couldn't quite place it. He was unsettled by his daughter's frozen visage, yet there was more to it. Was it rigor mortis that slightly distorted her face? That didn't make sense. Still, his gut was insisting something was off.

He touched her forehead, then her eyes to ensure they were closed. Carefully, he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and like everywhere else, the cool skin was perfectly smooth. And that was completely wrong.

This isn't Kaoru.

The realization struck him, and with great effort, he looked closer at the body. His hand encircled her upper arm; years of kenjutsu should have given it definition and while the flesh was full, it felt strange under his grip. Not quite like muscle built over years of hard work. His fingers found the base of her ponytail next, moving the hair aside to find the natural part. That had to be a unique way to identify a person, right? He couldn't manage it on his own, he would have to ask one of the others. But he was becoming surer and surer, that this body was a completely different person.

Then, where was his daughter?

That opened an entirely new line of thought, and it was not pleasant. He pushed it aside, heart in his throat, as he exited. Takani was blowing her nose into a handkerchief, and her red eyes met him. "Are you fin-"

"Please, wake up Yahiko." He needed everyone right now, he wasn't sure they were being watched.

Takani swallowed. "Alright. To say goodbye?"

"…Yes." And this will be the first time I will lie regarding this matter.

She dropped her head, overcome by a wave of tears as she walked on. He made for the kitchen, where Sagara was loudly using his breakfast utensils. When Koshijiro entered, it was clear that despite the noise, not much of anything had been eaten. "Sagara-san, I want all of us together one last time. Can you help me find Himura-san?"

He was disintegrating a piece of tofu with his chopsticks, and his jaw clenched. "Yeah, sure. I think he's in his room. Megumi brought him some tea, like an hour ago." He pushed the bowl aside, grimacing.

They approached Himura's bedroom, and Koshijiro knocked. "Himura-san?" No answer. He knocked again and pressed his ear to the door. No sounds of stirring either.

"Look, I'll just go in." Sagara sighed, slid the door open, and marched past the threshold. "Kenshin? Kenshin?" The futon was mussed, the tea left standing. Sagara searched the closet, growing pale and wide-eyed. "He's not here!"

Oh, no. He ordered. "Check the rest of the house, I'll look outside."

"You got it. Kenshin, you bastard…"

A quick scan of the foyer. Nothing. He opened the door, the noise inaudible amidst the racket Sagara was causing. To his relief, Himura was slowly walking towards the gate, in a daze. He had not tied his hair, the bright red spilling down his back.

"Himura-san?"

The man slowly turned. He looked wrecked. His expression was slack and his gaze empty. He hadn't changed clothes since the battle, and blood stained the front of his gi, spotting along the sleeves. His figure was frail, like the wind could sweep him away at any moment. Chains locked the sakabato in its sheath.

He was trying to disappear.

Koshijiro broke into a run, shouting. "Sagara-san, come help!" And Himura must have been too exhausted to escape, because in the next instant, Koshijiro brought them both to the ground. He rolled, taking most of the impact to shield Himura, and pain rocketed up the left half of his body. His shoulder was excruciating. But Himura wasn't going anywhere.

"Himura-san," He fought to catch his breath. "I apologize if I hurt you, but we will not let you go."

There was no reaction, not even a sign of discomfort. Koshijiro kept hold of him, as the house stirred in commotion. Takani and Yahiko had definitely heard his shout.

Then, Sagara arrived, pulling Himura up and roaring. "You idiot! How could you? How could you try and leave us?"

Like a cloth doll, Himura shook with the motions.

"Don't hurt him!" Yahiko shakily protested. Then, he noticed the chains and looked as if he'd been slapped across the face. "…Kenshin?"

Takani briskly separated Sagara and Himura. "Just stop! We're all devastated, this isn't the time to fight. And Kamiya-san might have reopened his shoulder wound. Ken-san, what were you doing?"

And at that moment, there was a flash of color at the ruined wall. They huddled in a protective circle around Himura, but there was no need. Dark circles were under Makimachi's eyes and her braid was half undone, yet she summoned the energy to sprint the final stretch. And behind her, Shinomori followed, his kodachi drawn.

"We're so sorry!" Makimachi gasped, nearly tripping over her own feet. A cloth sack was slung across her back, and she took it off, reaching inside. "Aoshi-sama and I haven't slept for a minute at all, but we're here! We have the book that Kaoru asked for!"

No one spoke, the irony too scathing. Shinomori stepped forward with a grimace. "We've been fending off constant ambushes since leaving the Aoiya, but we believed you could hold your own. What happened?"

"Where's Kaoru?" Makimachi's hold on the book tightened. A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. "She couldn't have slept in, right?"

Takani surrendered, covering her face with her hands as she attempted to speak. "We tried but…it's too late."

"Everyone," Koshijiro had to take charge. He was aware now that time was of the essence; his daughter had to be alive and she was still in the clutches of those dangerous men. Each minute, they were getting further away. "We need to go inside. To that room."

"Not Kenshin too!" Sagara objected and Takani agreed.

"Kamiya-san, he's fragile. Please don't make him."

"I will if I have to!" His voice was sharp with agitation. "Kaoru…" He trailed off, unsure of how safe it was to reveal this. Were they being watched?

"Hurting Kenshin won't bring her back." Yahiko spoke up, and the unevenness in his words was painful to hear.

Koshijiro slumped. "All of you, please. I won't ask any more of you, I promise."

For a long minute, it was utterly stagnant. Then, Shinomori nudged a pale Makimachi, and silently, the group returned to the place where the corpse rested. Makimachi swayed on her feet, and Yahiko fixed his gaze on a different corner, but they were all together. Once the door closed, Koshijiro exhaled.

"I'm sorry."

"Now, you're sorry?" Takani shook her head, incredulous. "Sanosuke, take Ken-san-"

"This isn't Kaoru."

Shocked silence filled the room. Sagara glared at him. "Old man, what the hell are you talking about?"

He took a moment to swallow and repeated. "This isn't Kaoru. Kaoru should have a raised scar behind her ear, and it isn't there. Here, look." He bent back the cartilage, to confirm the lack of stitching from long ago. Takani peered closer.

"I don't see anything, but it could have faded."

"It wouldn't have. She even said she could still feel it yesterday." Yesterday, before the nightmare of selfish judgment. But perhaps…perhaps it was only a nightmare.

"I don't understand." Her eyes roamed over the body again, this time searching with greater intensity. "I know Kaoru, I know what she looks like. I was so sure…" She trailed off, before looking squarely at Koshijiro. "But you're her father. You would know."

"I had a feeling something was wrong. I wanted to check how her hair parts, I thought that would be a more decisive way to identify her."

"But whoever did this," Sagara bit out. "They could have found out. It's not that hard since Jou-chan's short, and maybe, they had a high vantage point to spy on us."

Some life had returned to Yahiko, and he scratched his head in thought. "How long have they been spying on us? Probably weeks…"

"Aoshi-sama, what are you thinking about?" Makimachi's voice wavered. "You look like you know something."

"I'm not sure." His expression was grave. "Not yet. First, who came to the dojo last night?"

The story was relayed in pieces, as they tried to converge their perspectives of Jinchuu. The only one who didn't speak was Himura. He blankly stared at the floor, hands limp at his sides. Makimachi fidgeted and bit her lip repeatedly, full of questions but wanting to wait. Shinomori only interjected for a few clarifications and at the end, he nodded at the body.

"It does look like Kamiya Kaoru, to the smallest details. Except for one."

"It's a humiliating memory. But I can assure you, I haven't shared it with anyone until now." And Koshijiro leaned against the wall, summoning forth the bittersweet past.

He had wanted to distract Kaoru, in the wake of Kyoko's death. Remembering how his father took him to the river after his mother's departure, he thought it wasn't a terrible idea. For good measure, he bought two fishing rods. He hadn't fished at all since he was Kaoru's age, and she never had, but…maybe, this was an opportunity for them to try together.

They headed to the river, just as the sun was clearing the horizon. The thick clouds above were pale gray, lightening with every minute. Instinctively, his daughter's hand slipped into his. She yawned, shaking her head. It was earlier than their usual waking time, but in this subdued morning, the fish wouldn't be scared away.

The water was gently lapping at the banks, the ground spongy under their feet. Koshijiro stopped at an open area, where it was comfortable to sit while they waited. He readied the larger of the two fishing rods and threw the line. A splash followed, sending ripples upon the surface. Was it really that simple? "I suppose that's it. It's been a long time since your grandfather and I went fishing."

"Did you catch anything?"

"I don't remember what kinds, because I fell asleep. But your grandfather caught three."

"Maybe, we'll have three more today." Kaoru gave a little smile that quickly faltered. That number could no longer describe their household.

He swallowed the rising grief, passing the other fishing rod to her. "Can you copy what I did?"

"Yeah, I can do it. It's easy." Her arms came down in a forceful swing, the line gleaming. And crimson blurred through the air. The hook was darkly wet, as it landed in the grass. Kaoru blinked, and when she turned her head, blood trickled down her neck.

Horror struck Koshijiro, and he tore the fishing rod out of her grip. "Kaoru!" He took out his handkerchief and pressed it to her skin, but blood continued to slide over his fingers. He examined higher, lifting her hair, and found the laceration behind her ear. It was lucky that the cartilage wasn't cut, but with the gushing blood, he couldn't tell how deep the wound was. He pressed the cloth over it, his own heartbeat pounding.

Her bottom lip quivered. "Otou-san?"

"We're going home."

And then, she began to cry. "Sorry…I'm sorry, Otou-san."

"No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should apologize. Here, hold it tightly." He made sure she was applying pressure before carrying her.

He ran for the house, and in no time at all, they were in the courtyard. He drew up water from the well, soaking a clean rag. Meanwhile, Kaoru was trying to rein in her sobs, curling up on the porch. She'd been hurt because he was careless. He cursed himself over and over, as he searched for bandages, the strongest sake, and the remnants of Kyoko's medicines.

When he returned to Kaoru, the kerchief was stained brown. He gingerly pulled the fabric away, and immediately, crimson welled up. It had to be deep, if it was still bleeding. His heart sank. "Perhaps, we should go to the hospital-"

"No!" Kaoru fervently refused. She twisted away from him, her voice breaking in distress. "I don't want to go there! Th-that's where Okaa-san…Okaa-san!" The sentence ended in a wail, and he had to bite his own tongue.

Kyoko, what should I do? He despairingly thought. "Kaoru, let me clean it. I need to see how bad it is."

The fight left her, but she shuddered as she laid on her side. He used the fresh rag, careful not to open the wound further, and had to pause twice to hold pressure. The bleeding slowed to an ooze, which was a relief. The wound was deeper towards the bottom, where the hook had initially entered, but no bone or broken vessels. However, the tissue was gaping, and he wasn't confident it would heal properly.

Unless…

"Kaoru," He slowly said. "I need to find a few more things. Wait a little longer."

His hands shook during the search, only calming when he retrieved what he was looking for. Instructions from the past echoed in his mind. He doused everything in the sake first, to cleanse all of the items before they could touch his daughter's skin. The dry cracks on his own hands stung too. The sun was beaming in earnest, drying the needle and black thread quickly. But the alcohol on the wound was the worst part. Kaoru placed her fist in her mouth, muffling her scream of pain. Koshijiro chanted apologies, promising it'd be over soon. The burn might have numbed her, because when he began, she didn't flinch. Neither of them spoke. Perspiration beaded on his temples and hairline. And then, it was done.

Three tiny knots, evenly spaced as if they were sitting next to each other. He hoped that would be enough.

Exhausted from the ordeal, they spent the rest of the day at home. When he changed her bandage, he made sure the stitches were in place. A dark crust remained, but no bleeding. His mother might have approved. In the days after, he kept a close eye, telling Kaoru that it was looking better. At the end of the week, she complained that the thread itched and the knots were severed. She'd healed well, but there would always be a reminder.

"Otou-san, I don't want to hear any more!" Kaoru finally snapped during the dressing change, after he tried to express his remorse again. "I'm all better now because of you, so I don't care if there's a scar. And it was an accident, Okaa-san wouldn't be mad either."

"I won't feel at ease until it's sealed over completely."

She hugged him around the waist. "It's fine, Otou-san. Geez. But, you know what? I'm happy you did three stitches. One for me, one for you, and one for Okaa-san. That'll last longer than three fish."

"…Yes, it will."

The guilt dulled to a twinge whenever he checked behind her ear. And by the time the wound disappeared, leaving a raised pale line, he realized that he'd never purchased bait.

"Huh. That's kind of a cute story." Makimachi remarked. "So, this scar was only known to the two of you?"

"That's right."

"Then, it would have escaped Gein's notice." Shinomori lifted his head, his gaze glittering. "In our circles, Gein has a reputation as a puppet master. He's frequently hired for his work with corpses. It would not be a stretch of the imagination, that Enishi hired him to disguise another body as Kaoru-san, to make you believe the worst. However, I must confirm it for myself." He grasped the hilts of his kodachi, striding towards the still form.

Koshijiro caught on to his intention and rapidly ushered the others out of the room. None of them needed to witness the dissection. Takani gripped her forearms, her nails digging into her purple sleeves. "If Yukishiro Enishi disguised this body as hers, where could she be? How can we begin…"

"We'll have to hunt them down and make them pay tenfold. Right, Kenshin?" Sagara glanced towards him. But Himura didn't respond.

Makimachi flexed her hands, her bangs lowered over her eyes. "I hope Kaoru's alive. I really hope so."

Shinomori emerged within minutes, holding a bundle of unfamiliar rope. "This was in the body, or rather, the puppet. What should we do now?" He looked to Himura. Still no reaction from him.

The pause stretched and Koshijiro said at last. "No one else should know. As long as those men have Kaoru, her life is at risk. Until we can rescue her, everyone must believe the body is hers. Whoever this girl is, we will bury her. I don't mind giving her a space in the family plot. However, she'll be buried as Kamiya Kaoru. We can have a brief wake, but people can't linger for too long. The funeral has to be today."

"Today." Takani echoed. "I'll make sure she's ready by noon."

And then, there was the matter of funeral arrangements. Koshijiro took upon the dreaded task, trudging to the necessary people. The Buddhist priest, the cemetery workers, the coffin builders. He went to the Maekawa residence last and was greeted by the students, assisting with their teacher's move. He hoped he looked weary as he pressed his forehead to the ground, in request for those able to carry his daughter to her final resting place. Instantaneously, chaos erupted. The students demanded details, and it was enough to wake Maekawa himself. He swore loudly, stumbling out of bed, and was utterly disheveled when he arrived at the door.

"Is this true? What do you mean, Kaoru is dead?" Behind him, Sachi hovered, stunned and mute.

"The attacks on the city…we were the next target. Kaoru is gone." He had thought hard about what to say and decided that less was more.

Maekawa urged him to stay and talk, but Koshijiro refused. He had to return to the house; he was concerned about everyone, especially Himura. They could not take their eyes off him for a single moment. "The wake will be at the Kamiya dojo, starting at noon." And he had to turn away, without looking back. The last thing he heard was a chorus of volunteering.

He had just turned the last corner for the dojo, and uttered a low curse. Tae and Tsubame were walking ahead, slowing as they saw the destruction. He broke into a run and was about to call out when Yahiko appeared, bracing his hands on what was left of the gate.

"Don't come in!"

"Yahiko? What's wrong?" Tae frowned, and then, she noticed Koshijiro. "Kamiya-san? You're both injured. Is everyone else alright?"

He couldn't bring himself to speak yet and only shook his head.

In apprehension, she drew a breath. "Kaoru?"

"Sekihara-san, she's no longer with us." The lie stung under his breastbone, more so than anticipated. This was going to be an incredibly long day.

A cry escaped her, hands lifting to her mouth. "What?!"

Tsubame's face drained of color, and she desperately grasped Yahiko's sleeve. "No…! Yahiko-kun, please, please tell us…"

He dropped his gaze and clenched his teeth. "Enishi got his revenge. That's what. We failed." In a way, he was right.

However, the girl collapsed in a dead faint. Yahiko reached for her, vigorously shaking her shoulder. "Hey, Tsubame! Oh, crap…"

Tae was openly weeping now, trying to support her. "I n-need to take her home. Or to the clinic? And Kaoru! No…"

"What's going on?" Fortunately, Sagara appeared. "I'll get the fox out here. Old man, can you watch Kenshin?" His expression was drawn taut; it was the most stressed he'd ever been.

"I can look after him." After a moment's hesitation, he told Tae. "The wake will be at noon, and we're holding the funeral right after. Will we see you then?"

"Yes, of course. I…I'm so sorry. I can help out, let me know what to do-"

"If you can, please spread the word. That's all we ask." Once she nodded, he shuffled into the house with Sagara.

It was too quiet, as if the shadows of night remained. Even Sagara kept his voice down as he called the doctor to the front. Takani marched over, giving a cursory nod. "Our guests are keeping watch by the trees. Ken-san is in his room. He still hasn't eaten. And now, Tsubame-chan…" She rubbed her eyes.

The pair left Koshijiro, and slowly, he proceeded towards Himura's door. He knocked out of courtesy, opening anyway. His initial observation was that nothing had been cleaned at all since the frantic search. A tray of onigiri and tea was in one corner, perfectly untouched. Secondly, Himura was slumped against the wall, the chained sakabato in his arms. Takani and Sagara must have helped him change; his hair was loosely tied and he was sitting on blankets, though the pillow had fallen aside. The shadows were strongest here, an all-consuming heaviness that pulled at one's very breath.

Koshijiro settled by the threshold, clearing his throat. "I realized where you were planning to go. It's not the official name, but the station refers to the neighborhood as 'Rakuninmura'. We've found informants there among the outcasts, and we know it as a place for those who've lost their way."

Himura's eyes moved sluggishly to him, and for the first time today, he seemed to acknowledge reality. He stared at Koshijiro. No words yet.

"But Rakuninmura is for people who have no one else. You have us, and we are worried about you." Koshijiro couldn't help wincing. He truly was inept at talking about emotions. "It wasn't your fault. The ones to blame are Yukishiro Enishi and his followers. We'll start investigating, searching for Kaoru."

A pause, that extended to an uncomfortable awkwardness.

"In hindsight, the clues were there. The costume of human skin, Gein's suspicious activities in the slums, the intense security around the Yokohama mansion. But we could not fathom that this was their plan. It was…unconscionable." He trailed off.

Nothing was working. What could be done, to spur Himura into action? Sagara spoke of revenge, yet it didn't motivate him at all. Even after the revelation that the body was a fake, why was he in the depths of despair? Koshijiro stared at Himura's hands, clutching the hilt in a rigid paralysis, and how his knuckles jutted under dry skin.

First, he needs nourishment. Koshijiro stood and pulled the tray towards Himura. "You don't have to talk. We can handle the funeral today and the investigation will follow afterwards. However, you must try to keep something down, even if you don't have an appetite. That is what Kaoru taught me."

Whether it was the plan or his daughter's name, Koshijiro didn't know. But as if it was scraped out of him, Himura exhaled a single question. "…why?"

Koshijiro frowned. What did he mean? "We can figure that out later, and only if you have the strength to think." He grabbed the cup, raising it to Himura's mouth. "I won't force feed you, but in this heat, you need to drink."

His arm was beginning to pinch with exertion, when the red bangs fell forward. Himura quietly sipped and Koshijiro forgot entirely about his own fatigue, until he was certain that the younger man had finished the tepid tea. With that accomplished, he ventured. "Are you hungry enough to try the onigiri?"

However, Himura tucked into himself, bringing the sakabato closer. Koshijiro was at a loss, other than to keep silent company and wait for the others to come home. After some minutes, he noticed that Himura's breathing had slowed, into a state of deep sleep. Koshijiro found the nearest blanket on the floor, draping it over him before pressing his back to the wall.

Footsteps approached, and Makimachi peered in. "Hello? Just checking in. Any updates?"

Koshijiro nodded at the tray. "He drank all of his tea, but he isn't eating yet."

"That's great though!" She looked curiously at Koshijiro. "What did you say to him?"

"I was mostly speaking to myself."

She raised her eyebrows, but before she could question further, an unfamiliar voice called out. The coffin had arrived. Makimachi took over in Koshijiro's stead, so he could request a few minutes in the room. Perfectly understandable, and he was granted a parent's right to one final goodbye.

He knelt, clasping the dead girl's cold hand before murmuring. "I don't know who you were, but you must have had a family. Today, I'll act in their place and properly send you off, so that you can pass on peacefully. Forgive us for the deception we're about to carry out, and for the harm we've already done. May your soul find comfort, in that you will protect another. When this is over, you will have your own gravestone." It was the last kindness she could receive, and the very least they could do.

When he emerged, everyone was together again. Yahiko looked to Koshijiro. "Tsubame will be alright, she's going to rest before the…the wake. I'm Kaoru's first student, so what do you need me to do?"

"Since she was your teacher, you'll lead the procession with me."

"Oh. Okay." He hadn't expected that and hesitated, but only for a moment. More firmly, he repeated. "Okay. I'll do it."

"And we'll watch from the sidelines!" Makimachi said. "Aoshi-sama and I are going to maintain surveillance the whole time, to see if Gein or anyone else shady appears. Like those four identical guys we escaped from on the road, or the Chinese laborers who were total distractions once we got to Tokyo or-"

"Misao and I will also protect the corpse, if we are called." Shinomori intoned.

Of course, Himura was in no shape to attend, but he couldn't stay in the house alone. Sagara volunteered to stay behind with him. "He's not going to leave again." The young man declared. "I'll make sure of it. Besides, I'd be no good at the funeral. I'm too angry to be a mourner."

"But I can play the part. I've cried plenty already." Takani let out a hoarse sound, too bitter for a laugh. "So…it's time."

The Oniwabanshuu melted into the foliage, while Koshijiro led Yahiko and Takani to the temple. He had not been there since his departure for Satsuma, to pray for Kaoru's safety in his absence. And now, the reality of failure caused his left shoulder to ache anew.

Oh. He almost tripped on the steps and outwardly blamed it on the flaring pain, but his mind was working incessantly, lit by a new flame.

The temple was quickly crowded. Koshijiro had to resort to a standard greeting for each person who passed through. Tae and Tsubame returned with the other girls from the Akabeko in tow, and they all wept profusely. Maekawa brought his wife and students, and word had spread to the other dojos, because Ishii barged in, squeezing Koshijiro into a comforting bear-like embrace. Many kenjutsu students expressed their grief, with blotchy faces and cracking voices. The neighborhood children, the townswomen who were permanent fixtures in the market, and even the carpenter came to pay respects. So many people, who loved Kaoru.

He really felt bad at hiding the truth.

"Kaoru-nee!" His heart sank at the familiar voices of Dr. Gensai's granddaughters, and throat tight, he braced himself. Ayame and Suzume were screaming, wriggling out of their parents' arms to rush to the coffin. The chrysanthemums in their hands were already wilting. "Kaoru-nee, wake up!"

He dragged his feet over, and somehow, he managed to ask. "Are those flowers for her?"

They only nodded, rubbing away tears as they offered the little bouquets. Yellow petals fluttered onto the stone tiles.

"Thank you. I'm sure she'll love to have them with her." And he meant it.

"I couldn't believe what Takani-san told me." Dr. Gensai was relying on his cane for support, looking as if he hadn't slept at all. "It's unimaginable…" His son and daughter-in-law murmured their condolences, glancing at their daughters in pained sympathy.

Then, Yahiko grabbed Koshijiro's sleeve. "Saito's here."

A gap appeared in the mob of people, making way for the assistant chief. The stench of tobacco was thick, chokingly so when Saito approached. His gaze rested upon the corpse's face for a second before landing on Koshijiro. "We're interrogating the one we have. There's nothing for you to do at the station. When we extract information, you'll be made aware."

"Mm." In what he hoped was a natural gesture, he shook Saito's hand, pressing a folded note to his palm. He had written the message earlier, that they knew the body was not Kaoru's and they didn't know who was watching. The transfer was only acknowledged with an intensified stare, and Saito shoved both hands in his pockets.

"My wife wants to stop by and assist."

"Later, in the afternoon. We would appreciate it."

"Battousai isn't here?"

"He is still recovering." At least, that was honest. "Please, don't disturb him."

"I don't have the time. I'm returning to the station." He pivoted, frowning. "Yukishiro Enishi will be dealt with immediately."

And Koshijiro had to deal with the consolatory offerings. The chrysanthemums were just the beginning; more flowers adorned the sides of the coffin. Roses, jasmine, sunflowers. Others had brought confections or the last of the ripe summer fruits and vegetables, which he did his best to refuse. The cash was the worst, and he had to turn aside, feeling nauseated. Takani intervened with a firm tone. "Kaoru would not want money. She'd tell you to keep it for yourselves and live well."

Chief Uramura was among the last to arrive, bringing his family. His daughter in particular was very pale and Koshijiro caught a muffled apology when she bowed to the coffin. The chief helplessly repeated. "If we'd arrested the culprit, this wouldn't have happened."

The gong resounded, to hush everyone. The temple priest bore a placid expression, as he stepped forward. The sermon echoed against the walls, asking for forgiveness of sin and reincarnation into a better life. Then, the coffin lid cast shadow over Kaoru's likeness and was sealed shut. Someone young, perhaps Tsubame, sobbed.

Four young men lifted the box, and Koshijiro was first to follow them out of the temple. Yahiko strode beside him, and his role was to carry the plaque for a posthumous name, to prevent calling the deceased back. Well, such a name hadn't stuck with Koshijiro and it certainly wouldn't with Kaoru, but for this girl, they would call her Reijo until proven otherwise.

For the entire walk, a chorus of grief rose on the wind. Wailing, stricken laments, and lines of prayers became an indistinguishable tide of noise. This was the sound of mourning, for a cherished life cut too short. If she could witness how many tears were shed, she'd cry too.

When they arrived at the Kamiya family plot, the ground had already been dug in preparation. The coffin was gently lowered into the pit and Koshijiro remained stoic. Was the enemy seeing this? Were they aware of how much admiration and respect she'd earned? Did they enjoy the suffering they caused? He tossed an overflowing handful of earth onto the lid, and the shovels began to move. Gradually, the wooden box was completely obscured.

Kamiya Kaoru was buried.

They weren't home again for another two hours; they had to be the last ones to leave the grave. Shinomori and Makimachi had taken point by the stone walls, affirming that they hadn't noticed anyone out of place. And there was one more person waiting.

Saito had the courtesy to smoke outside the house. "You just missed Tokio, but she already made use of your kitchen." He tapped the ash off his cigarette. "The police are dedicating all resources towards tracking Yukishiro Enishi."

It was an obvious statement but Koshijiro understood. With regards to Kaoru, there would be no extra aid. "Is it the low manpower? If so, I can-"

"You should take your absence from work. An emotional father would only be a hindrance."

"Hey!" Yahiko sharply protested. "We came back from the funeral, and Kamiya-san still offered anyway. And what are we? We can help."

"No. I've already had to train one man, and even he couldn't escape injury."

Koshijiro could have kicked himself for forgetting. "Sawagejo-san was hurt?"

"I received the telegram this morning. The mansion's entrance was rigged with explosives. The others had mild wounds, though he took the brunt of the blast. He's awake, though he'll remain in the hospital for another week. But he was successful. The basement was intact and we ransacked everything. Plenty of evidence like that costume and the tools used to make them. Their time must have run out, because our culprits didn't clean up."

How revolting. "So, you knew at the temple."

Saito shrugged. "You'd figured it out as well." Again, he was being obtuse. "Now that we're on the same page, I can continue my work."

"And your work doesn't involve finding anyone other than Yukishiro?" Takani purposefully asked.

"My job is to slay evil." He walked past Koshijiro and in a mutter, he added. "Yours is to protect life. Isn't that right, creator of Kamiya Kasshin?"

"Yes, it is. Send Sawagejo-san my thanks and that I hope he recovers soon."

Tokio's cooking granted them a late lunch, and they ate hurriedly, without any conversation. Yahiko volunteered to watch Himura, which relieved Sagara. The latter made a great deal of noise as he left, brimming with pent-up energy. He didn't relay where he was going.

Koshijiro took his tea on the porch, unable to taste it. He maintained a vigilant eye on the treeline for unnatural movement or sound. Then, someone settled at the other end, the floorboards creaking.

Shinomori had brought his own cup, and the steam curled under his face. Suddenly, he spoke first. "Gein has pride in his craft, in the way an artisan does." At Koshijiro's glance, he clarified. "There is no one nearby. As I was saying, Gein is obsessed with his corpses. This…Reijo, as you've named her, was nearly perfect. He wouldn't want it to decompose."

"Then, are you suggesting to watch over the grave?"

"Yes, and to lay a trap. If you are willing, I will inform Misao."

"If it doesn't damage the plots of my parents and wife, I have no issue."

He nodded. "…Himura will not see the grave."

"It is doubtful, considering how stressed he is. His current state is nothing like we've seen before." Koshijiro quietly said.

"I'm surprised he didn't revert to the persona of the Battousai. I thought he would, and after bringing Kaoru-san back, he would return to wandering."

"Himura-san's inner struggle is slightly different than what you are thinking. And I believe you were thinking of how you would have reacted."

Shinomori actually cracked a smile. A small one, but still a smile. "Fair enough."

"You seem to have recovered even more, since we last left you."

"Have I?" He paused, reflecting. "Misao has been...persistent. That part of her hasn't changed at all."

With the tea finished, they went searching for her. She was in the main hallway, staring at the displayed paintings with a degree of curiosity. Hearing their footsteps, she tilted her head in their direction. "Hey, welcome back."

Shinomori dropped to one knee, his head bowed. "Okashira."

"Eh? What? Me?" Makimachi rapidly looked around, then pointed to herself. She blushed. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm requesting to lay a trap at the grave of Kamiya Kaoru. Most likely, Gein will retrieve the body after nightfall. If we catch him, we can obtain information and end his crimes forever."

"Permission granted." She didn't hesitate. "As long as you do one more thing. Come back, or I'll chase you down."

"Understood." As Shinomori stood again, Koshijiro thought he saw another slight smile on his face, but in the next instant, his expression was stoic once more.

It was good that Shinomori left before a wave of visitors arrived. Everyone meant well, bringing their condolences and more food than they could possibly eat for dinner. The gate was repaired in the shortest amount of time possible, thanks to the sheer number of helping hands. But the sky was a dark violet, the close of twilight, when the last person waved goodbye.

And Koshijiro caught the sound of footsteps in the dojo. Through the broken doors, he peered inside. It was scrubbed clean, he realized, free of blood. Yahiko halted mid-swing, then straightened to attention with the shinai futilely hidden behind his back. Perspiration glittered on his temples and cheeks.

"Kamiya-san! Um, I cleaned up in here."

"I can see that. Thank you." He removed his shoes and stepped inside. To his relief, it felt natural as always, not tainted by the attack. "Were you practicing?"

He slowly replied. "I have to."

"Kaoru would be proud of you. You've come a long way from your first days with us, you're immensely more diligent and responsible."

"Well, in those days, I didn't want to be a student of Kamiya Kasshin." Yahiko was mortified. "And I'm sorry for what I said. But ever since I met Kenshin, I wanted to be strong like him. And now…" He really did idolize Himura, and his posture slackened.

"He's very troubled at the moment."

"Yeah. It's hard to watch him. Before I left his room, I said I'd practice." His gaze lifted, burning with determination. "I promised I'd learn from Kaoru, and even if she's not here, I'm still the only student of the Kamiya dojo. I won't get discouraged. I'll keep moving forward, with the sword that protects. Protecting people is why Kenshin is strong. When he's better and we rescue Kaoru, I'll be ready."

It was an ambitious and innocent goal. Completely fitting. Koshijiro placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Your words have reassured me."

"Huh?"

"When I came home from Satsuma, Kaoru was alone. All of the other students had abandoned the school. But even if you didn't join out of interest, you've grown to accept the ideals. You've stayed and learned and excelled." Koshijiro locked eyes with him. "And you are the future of Kamiya Kasshin."

Yahiko didn't shy away. He seemed to rise at the affirmation. Someday, he'd lead a full class of his own, and Koshijiro hoped to see it. "Then, I'll do my best."

"Good. But it's getting late and we'll eat soon. You can start again at your usual time tomorrow."

"Aw, fine."

After months of lively company, it was actually strange, to have only four people at the dinner table. Sagara had returned late, reeking of sake and barely reacting to the updates they provided. The ordeal of waiting was taking its toll. And when Makimachi switched in for Takani to monitor Himura, Koshijiro glimpsed his silhouette, exactly in the same place as before.

The first time Koshijiro woke in the middle of the night, it was to the noise of a door closing. The likely explanation was that someone was using the outhouse. But given the events they'd endured, Koshijiro couldn't shake the feeling that he had to check. Intuition carried his feet to the front door, which audibly creaked as he gazed out.

In a familiar picture, Sagara was crouched in the yard, under the moonlight. However, he was in the midst of tying a cloth sack, and a bundled bedroll was resting on his shoulder. He startled. "Guess you caught me, old man." A forced laugh escaped him.

"I believe so. Would you like to share what you're doing?"

His knees jittered, and at last, he said. "I can't stay. I hate waiting for the trap to spring, waiting for new intel, waiting around and doing nothing! I'm not that patient, I've always known when to cool my head and this is it."

"Sagara-san…"

"And there's something else." He ran his hands through his hair. "Looking at everyone else and you, well, I remembered my family. They probably don't care, but I just…I can't stop thinking about them. How they'd react if they believed I was dead, if they'd act like any of us right now, stupid shit like that."

"It isn't stupid at all. Do you want to visit them?" Koshijiro asked, and Sagara immediately snapped his head up.

"Look, I don't know. Maybe, it's too late. It's been ten years."

"If they truly care about you, time will not matter. I think it'd be valuable to make your peace with them. And if they still reject you, we'll be here."

Sagara's mouth twisted, not quite a grimace or a smile. "Thanks. I think if I say goodbye to the others, they'll pin me down and throw me in with Kenshin."

"Don't worry, I'll tell them."

"Thanks, old man." He managed a small smile of gratitude. Then, he brushed himself off and wryly gave a two-fingered salute. "I'll be back when I can pull myself together. See ya."

"Safe travels."

And the fighter walked unflinchingly into the darkness. He'd clear his head and if he found closure with his family, he'd reunite with them as a freer man. Koshijiro was sure of it.

The second time his sleep was interrupted, it was the coldest hour before dawn. A low vibration underneath, and he thought: earthquake. He immediately rolled out of his futon, his hand pressed to the chilled floor, but the sensation was gone. There wasn't another, as he waited until his fingertips were numb. Not an earthquake then, so what was it?

He made his way outside, searching for any disruptions. The horizon glowed a pale orange, yet the sky had not changed otherwise. The faint smell of smoke reached him. That fire was…in the direction of the cemetery.

"Wha's goin' on?" The murmur was too close and he looked to his side. Makimachi yawned. "It's not a tremor, right? Oh, whoa!" She shook off the drowsiness and gasped.

"I'm going to the cemetery. Could you wake the others?" During his question, the bells were ringing in the distance.

"Y-yes. And I'll join you after! Aoshi-sama." The last was whispered, as she backtracked and hurried through the halls.

Koshijiro threw on a spare haori, and headed for the blaze. As he ran closer, it became apparent that the flames were concentrated in the woods behind the cemetery. The fire brigade had extinguished most of it already, leaving ash and embers. A number of trees were felled; amidst the scorch marks, deeper slashes cut across bark. Signs of a struggle.

The firefighters exclaimed. A burned corpse had been found. Koshijiro approached with trepidation, but the remains were obviously an old man's. There wasn't much left to discern, other than a wrinkled visage, jaws gaping in agony.

"Shinomori-san!" Koshijiro called out. "Where are you?"

Rustling drew his attention. A tree trunk shifted, and a shadow emerged from the ground. Shinomori had a minor wound on his cheekbone, soot smearing his clothing. But he was alive. Koshijiro offered his hand, helping him up.

"So, it was you after all." A familiar voice drawled. The police had arrived to investigate and Saito surveyed the destroyed forest. "We found Gein's mask. How ironic, for him to end up as scarcely more than the skull."

Shinomori coughed. "Gein said their group had a hideout on the west bank of the Arakawa. In the lowest level of the Heishin Products Company building. We should go."

"Agreed." Saito nodded. "That's for the police to handle."

Something clicked in Koshijiro's memory. "Arakawa? That was a place on the supply route from the map Sawagejo-san retrieved. No, not completely a supply route. An escape route. There were other locations. What if-"

Saito interjected. "I understand you're eager to pursue your daughter's murderer, Kamiya. But you're still on leave."

Koshijiro clenched his teeth. It was frustrating, but Gein wasn't the only lackey. "Then, I expect to be updated on what you find in the hideout. And thank you for uncovering that information, Shinomori-san. Was the explosion your trap?"

"No. That was due to Gein's explosive materials. I set them off though, I was willing to take him down."

"…Then, you-"

"I didn't swear a pacifist vow like Himura. I have a duty to fulfill, but I have no interest in dying. I dug pits like this one, for if I had to take cover. It wasn't a difficult choice." His dark eyes were resolute. "Besides, there are people waiting for me to return."

As if on cue, Makimachi's entrance was flawlessly timed. "Aoshi-sama!" She slid down an ashy slope, almost losing her balance. She ducked under Shinomori's free arm, supporting him. "Are you okay? Kamiya-san and I thought it was an earthquake, then we saw the fire, and I was so worried! Come on, let's have Megumi look at you." She led him away, fussing over his injuries.

Koshijiro glanced at Saito, who waved dismissively. "I can tell what you're thinking. Yes, the route was blocked but for supply ships. A smaller fishing vessel may have escaped notice, although that narrows the range of locations. Regardless, we don't have the manpower or equipment if we sailed today."

"What if I could ask for aid?"

"From who? The navy?"

"I have a friend who is a naval secretary. He could pull some strings."

Saito had been sarcastic but he blinked at Koshijiro's casual admission. He recovered, clearing his throat. "In that case, go ahead."

Koshijiro bowed his head, before taking the detour into town. He sent a quick telegram to Hayashi, requesting for anyone available on short notice. Without a destination, the objective was hard to explain at the moment, but the communication was initiated. Then, he returned home.

The aromas of grilling fish and steaming rice were filling the air. Takani was preparing breakfast and upon seeing Koshijiro, she said. "Shinomori-san's fine. He's sitting with Ken-san now. I told Misao to wake up Yahiko, while the rooster-head's already disappeared somewhere."

"Ah. About that…"

Her expression contorted upon hearing the story. "I see. Well, I hope he finds what he's looking for." But her tone lacked its usual incisiveness. "Honestly, with how close he is to Ken-san, I don't hold it against him. It really is difficult."

Makimachi shuffled in, with a full bucket of well water. "Yahiko's washing his face. He wants to start practice too, Kamiya-san." She rummaged about, asking where the tea leaves were. While waiting for the water to boil, she counted off her fingers. "In summary, Inui, Otowa, and Yatsume are in jail. Kujiranami is in custody. And with Gein dead…"

"How do you feel about that, Kamiya-san?" Takani stared at him.

"Shinomori-san obtained our next lead, and I am very grateful."

"Well, that's not what I was asking. Even if it was the enemy, a life was still taken."

He inhaled, counted to three. Slowly, he let the breath out. "I don't have any excuses. It is regrettable, but time cannot be rewound. If Gein had been arrested, he could have informed us on who else could have been his victims, if only to give their families closure. Although, I'm not sure if he would have remained in prison long enough to be punished."

Makimachi nodded. "True, true. He would've either escaped or been an easy target."

"But I can't forgive the men who used my daughter as a sacrifice for revenge. And if they have harmed her in any way…" The possibilities were ugly and terrible. His stomach lurched, his mind resisting further rumination. "I am scared for her."

"So am I." Takani had set down her cooking utensils. Her hands wrapped around herself, her gaze darkening. "We need to act fast."

"We can do it." Makimachi opted for a brave front. "It's been two days, but we've come this far already."

"And there's still so much left." She dourly replied.

Koshijiro felt like he had to write a list, but there was one thing that nobody had managed to crack yet: Himura's condition. Inwardly, Koshijiro hesitated. It had to be a careful approach, and it certainly wasn't natural to him. However, he had to overcome the worry. Walking to the altar, he faced Kyoko's picture. If it was any other scenario, he'd ask for her guidance. Not this time. She had to watch over their girl.

Kaoru's survival was a relief, but what was happening to her now? Was she wounded? Did she know they were desperately searching for her? How was she coping?

Stay strong, Kaoru. He fervently thought, hoping somehow, his wish would be carried to his daughter. We're going to bring you home!