Finally!
We're finally picking up the previous writing again. At last, we'll get the long-awaited reunion! _ T_T
BTW, it's important to remember that although the Ikedaya incident occurred in 1864, in my story those events were delayed by a year because Kenshin didn't join the Ishin Shishi directly under Katsura Kogorō. Instead, he joined the Sekihotai and fought on open ground. That, as any butterfly effect, changed they course of history.
Chapter 32
"Political Pacts"
KYOTO, 1865
Night had already fallen when the teahouse began to empty of patrons. Given how tense the political atmosphere had become, more than a few residents had adopted a self-imposed curfew. The night outside was thick, warm, and humid. Summer clung to the skin like a second breath. Inside, candles flickered anxiously in their paper lanterns.
Katsura Kogorō arrived on time. As always. Miyabe Teizō was already waiting, seated in seiza with an unshakable expression. His dark haori contrasted with the white silk fan he held, unmoving. There was no courtesy in his gaze—only patience.
The leader of the Chōshū clan was led to the room where Miyabe had taken residence, far from the voices of other diners. The moment he crossed the threshold, Miyabe spoke with reproach.
"You took your time," he said, without looking at him.
Katsura remained unfazed and followed suit, sitting before his companion while a servant filled his cup with tea.
"Patrols have doubled since the incident at the Karasuma market," the dark-haired man said by way of explanation. "We no longer move freely, Miyabe-dono."
It was a reminder. The situation was clearly on the brink of explosion, and they had to be careful. Soon, they would need to start hiding. Miyabe allowed himself a twitch of the lips that failed to become a smile.
"Which only proves my point: there's no time. No space."
Katsura sipped his tea and let the heat fill his chest before he spoke with seriousness.
"I've read Momiji's revised plan. Yumi dono confirmed your involvement."
"Not involvement," Miyabe corrected. "Precision. Revolutions are built with bodies, not shadows."
There it was—the point Katsura had to refute. The entire plan struck him as madness.
"And yet you ask me to use a girl as a blood-soaked banner."
"I ask you to recognize the symbol she represents," Miyabe shot back. "The Princess of Kyoto, heir to a lineage still revered by the peasants as sacred. She is not a girl. She is a flame. And if she doesn't burn... she will never ignite others."
Katsura understood. But that didn't mean he agreed. As things stood, he already felt guilty enough for the souls dragged into a conflict they fought in his name.
Katsura pressed his lips together.
"Momiji sama's plan intended to simulate Kaoru miko sama's death. To stage the sacrifice without executing it. It was symbolic—enough to move the people's faith without spilling her blood. Your suggestion is something else entirely."
"My suggestion is realism," Miyabe said, not blinking. "This is 1865, Katsura-dono. The bakufu has planted double agents in our ranks. The Shinsengumi executes without trial, and the temples are under surveillance. Villages that protest are burned. Those who pray are interrogated."
"So you think the next step is to murder our purest figure?" Katsura raised his voice a notch. "The only miko still followed by the lower and middle classes as a spiritual guide?"
Miyabe stared at him. His eyes were as serene as they were cruel.
"Precisely."
Katsura straightened, his voice deepening.
"What if hope turns to rage? What if, upon seeing her body, the people don't rise against the shogunate, but against us?"
There was a brief silence as the two men measured each other with their eyes. Miyabe finally responded with the same cruelness as before.
"Then history will judge us. But flesh is purified with fire. And Kaoru-miko sama..."
He stopped abruptly, lowering his gaze. He drank from his cup as if needing that gesture for courage.
"Kaoru-miko sama has been protected like a relic. It is time she becomes one."
The silence that followed was frigid. Not because of temperature, but due to the chasm that had opened between them. The leader of the Chōshū clan narrowed his gaze.
"Does she know?" he asked after a pause.
"No," Miyabe replied, without a hint of doubt, though unable to meet his gaze. "And she must not. The more authentic her faith, the more genuine her sacrifice."
"And you can sleep with that?"
Miyabe looked at him as if the question were irrelevant, despite the disgust plain on Katsura's face.
"I don't seek sleep. I seek to bring the Emperor back to Kyoto. And for that, fire must shake the bakufu. And nothing burns brighter than the death of a miko revered as royalty."
Katsura stood rigidly, a bitter taste in his throat, fists clenched.
"I do not accept your proposal," he declared.
"But you won't stop it either," Miyabe smiled.
Katsura didn't respond. His silence was harder than any word. He would not consent, but he wouldn't interfere either. He simply would not take part.
"The burning of Kyoto is imminent," Miyabe added, like a final match dropped onto paper. "You can deny it now, but when the rooftops blaze, when the people scream, and the shogunate shakes... you will remember this conversation."
Katsura turned away, his heart heavy. Before crossing the threshold, he spoke without looking back:
"And if she dies... no blood will wash that clean."
Miyabe did not answer. He only bowed. Like a priest before his altar.
... ... ...
All the way back to the inn where he was currently staying, Katsura couldn't shake the feeling of self-disgust. The impotence of being aware that he was tied down made him question his role as a leader. If he couldn't control his own allies, how could he expect to lead an entire people?
... ... ...
Upon returning to his chambers, he bathed and had dinner in his room, accompanied by Ikumatsu, the geisha he had long loved and wished to soon make his wife. But even in her presence, the anguish did not fade.
The oil lamp cast long shadows on the paper wall. Katsura Kogorō sat by the closed window, drinking slowly. He hadn't spoken since he entered. The sake had yet to touch his lips with intention.
Ikumatsu, wrapped in a simple yukata, watched him from across the room. Her gestures were gentle, but her gaze, sharp.
"It's not just temple smoke," she finally said. "There's another kind of fog in your eyes tonight."
Katsura set the porcelain cup on the floor, without looking at her.
"Shouldn't there be, when my city may soon be ash?"
Ikumatsu approached. She knelt beside him and took the empty cup between her fingers.
"You're not talking about battles. You're talking about choices."
Katsura sighed. Then he opened up to her, sharing his worries; Ikumatsu was not just a lover to him, but his most faithful ally.
"Miyabe wants blood. Not just from the shogunate. Not just from soldiers. He wants Kaoru-dono's."
Ikumatsu didn't react with surprise. She only lowered her gaze, thoughtful.
"Yumi dono is still with her?"
Katsura paused, recalling the ex-miko's actions in recent months.
"Yes. But something has changed. She's quieter... more calculated. She's grown close to Shishio."
Too close.
Ikumatsu nodded slowly. She had heard the name. Makoto Shishio, the Ishin Shishi's new favorite hitokiri. Younger. More voracious. More... flammable.
"Do you think Yumi dono agrees with Miyabe's plan?"
"Not yet. But she's one idea away."
Katsura rubbed his face. His shoulders slumped. His back hunched. He looked twenty years older. Ikumatsu's heart tightened in her chest.
"Momiji Sama had a cleaner plan. A faked death. An escape. But now... now they want to see her truly die. And they use me to dress it up as strategy."
Ikumatsu finally touched him. A hand on his knee. Her warmth was real. Steady.
"So what will you do, Kogorō?"
He didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and within the silence, an image crossed his mind: red hair, amatist eyes, a guilty gaze, a soft voice laced with steel.
Himura Kenshin:
"There is someone I want to protect. The sanctuary must be protected at all costs."
That was the deal. Himura had asked for no position, no title, no privileges. Just that. Just her. And Katsura, knowing the weight the redhead carried, had promised something even harder:
"If you survive this era, if both of you manage to stay alive... then I will make your love for her legitimate in the next."
And now that future hung by a single decision. Whether he could keep his own people in check. Whether he could save a girl everyone else had already buried in advance.
Katsura opened his eyes. His face was in shadows.
But his resolve was not.
The first time Hajime Saitō asked Kondō to grant an audience to the miko of Inari—no less—Kondō Isami could barely believe the scene in front of him.
He and Saitō were not exactly nakama (close comrades). While both were part of the same group and fought for the Shogunate, it was clear that Saitō was not a particularly idealistic man, even if he followed the precept "evil must be eradicated." That made it evident that if the captain of the third division ever saw evil within the shogunate, he would raise his sword against it. And such action could not be called loyalty.
Still, there was mutual respect. Saitō even admired Kondō's leadership and swordsmanship, even if he did not share his blind faith in the bakufu. Nor was he someone who indulged in political maneuvering. So hearing him make such a request left Kondō momentarily unsettled.
...
Rain beat insistently against the rooftops when Hajime Saitō entered Kondō Isami's office. The commander barely looked up from the documents on his desk. He was not surprised; Saitō was accustomed to coming and going without announcement, and never once without purpose. No, the Wolf of Mibu always had a reason—and this time was no different.
"What's so important that you barge in unannounced?" Kondō asked.
Saitō didn't flinch. He set his soaked hat aside and stood at attention, calm as ever.
"A young woman wants to speak with you," he said casually, eyes scanning the room.
Kondō raised an eyebrow, exasperated.
"Another courtesan playing politics?" he mocked.
"No," Saitō cut in instantly, almost interrupting him, his eyes finally locking on his superior. "A miko. From Fushimi Inari Shrine. The Princess of Kyoto."
Kondō leaned back against the tatami. His eyes narrowed.
"Kaoru-miko sama?"
"Her."
Silence. The name carried weight.
"She wants a truce," Saitō said flatly, eager to be done with the matter. "And she offers something more useful than words: information. Visions. Predictions about foreign threats. Information we could use if the Shinsengumi are to prevail."
Now Kondō looked up entirely. He was interested.
"And what do you think?"
"I don't like it. But I owe her my life," Saitō admitted dryly. "And if her visions are real, they could save lives—ours or those in the streets."
Kondō sharpened his gaze.
"You're becoming a believer, Hajime?"
"No. But I believe in the usefulness of someone who knows when it's going to rain."
Kondō remained silent a moment, then slowly nodded and returned to his work.
"I'll hear what she has to say. Nothing more."
Saitō was already turning to leave, hat in hand.
"That's all she asked."
...
The miko of Inari had turned out to be a breath of fresh air, Kondō recalled. A vision in herself. Yet the reason he understood why she was so revered did not come simply from seeing her. To be fair, the girl had seemed unremarkable at first glance.
It had been her demeanor, the way she expressed her ideals and convictions, that convinced him she was someone to be trusted.
...
The room smelled of incense and pine wood—an attempt by the other members of the Shinsengumi to make the Princess of Inari feel comfortable. Absurd to Kondō, but understandable as a political tactic. The hall was one of the simplest but most elegant rooms, opening onto the bamboo garden. A low desk, two cups of tea slowly cooling.
Kondō sat like a warlord. Kaoru stood upright, like an altar—but did not bow her head.
"Thank you for receiving me, Kondō-dono."
"I'm not doing it out of courtesy," he replied. "I'm doing it because one of my own asked me to." He emphasized the point while watching her reaction, and was satisfied to see she gave none. "Speak."
Kaoru nodded. Her hands were clasped, but her voice was steady.
"The Inari shrine is losing its neutrality. Not because we chose to, but because bullets and flames no longer respect temples. And though we serve the gods, we also receive those who worship them—and they, I fear, carry political ideologies of their own."
Kondō narrowed his eyes. While he expected some justification for her involvement in recent revolutionary activities, he did not anticipate someone so versed in politics, capable of defending the shrine to the point of impunity.
"I want to turn it into a refuge. For children left behind when their parents die for causes they never understood. For families now unprotected."
Kondō said nothing. His brow furrowed slightly. That request, more than noble, seemed like a sweet dream—almost unreachable. Too noble to exist in the midst of a rebellion that sought to use religion as a banner.
"In exchange, I offer what my visions have shown me," she continued. "Foreign interventions. Colonies disguised as treaties. Threats disguised as trade. It's not just the shogunate or the emperor. The enemy has already touched our shores... and they will return."
Kondō laughed. Dry. Brief. Not mocking, but skeptical.
"And you think I, a commander with mouths to feed and spies at every turn, will bet it all on a miko's word?"
Kaoru straightened, dignified.
"No. But I'm not asking you to bet it all. Only not to destroy it when the fire reaches the foundation." Her tone sounded more like a command. And Kondō wondered, for a moment, who was serving whom. "I'm asking for a sliver of space—to save what can still be saved."
The commander leaned forward, ready to challenge her.
"And your excellency believes something in this rotten country can still be saved?"
Kaoru met his gaze directly. Her resolve did not waver.
"I believe there are still children who haven't learned to kill."
Kondō blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he saw something. A younger version of himself. Cleaner. With a sword yet unsullied. When his ideals were black and white, not the gray murk he now lived in.
"I used to be like that," he murmured to himself.
Kaoru said nothing.
Silence.
Kondō looked at her again. The hardness in his eyes, this time, was not born of cynicism nor the desire to stop her—but of the hope that, in measuring her, he might pass on a forgotten ideal.
"Do you have enemies?" he asked.
"I'm alive. So yes," she replied.
Kondō nodded with slight resignation, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I suppose I can't oppose."
Kaoru nodded in gratitude, but she was not finished.
"There is one more thing I want to ask."
Kondō listened patiently.
"During the conflict... the shrine must remain untouched. Neutral ground, if not a refuge. Not just for the children. Because even hope needs a place to hide from the fire."
Kondō observed her in silence, deliberating. Then he leaned back, and when he spoke, his tone was harder.
"In war, there are no neutral grounds, Kaoru-miko sama. There are two sides. Two fires. And sooner or later, everything in between burns."
Kaoru didn't flinch.
"I will handle the idealists."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"Because I already have the same agreement with the Ishin Shishi," she declared, firm, almost solemn.
That froze him for a moment. Not out of surprise... but recognition.
"You deal with both fires," he finally said, a warning, as if weighing the edge of a borrowed blade.
"I do it because if no one does, there will be no land left to save," she assured him.
Kondō finally stood up. He looked at her intently. At last, he nodded.
"It will be as you ask. You have my word."
Kaoru couldn't hide the smile that broke through, but the man immediately added:
"But don't ask me to defend it if you can't hold it with your own words."
Kaoru swallowed hard. And Kondō reminded himself that the young woman before him, though matured by her role, was still little more than a girl. The miko bowed slightly.
"I won't."
That was enough for Kondō.
"Don't betray this, Kaoru-miko sama. Because I won't give you a second chance."
Kaoru bowed her head. Once. Without breaking.
"Doumo arigatou gozaimasu.(Thank you very much)
...
It had been a week since that agreement. The Princess of Kyoto had departed the day after the meeting. And though rumors of an alliance between the Shinsengumi and the Inari Shrine spread through Kyoto, not a single soul doubted the innocence of the miko of Inari.
The commander thought, then, that perhaps they should have allied with the young miko from the beginning of the unrest. Now it was too late. And the only thing he stood to gain from the agreement was the advantage in dealing with future foreign threats.
So far, everything Kaoru-miko sama had told them had proven true.
"Where will we go now, Kondō-dono?" asked Okita, whose division was carrying out that covert mission in the outskirts of Otsu.
Kondō handed him the letter he held.
"Reply to Hajime. Tell him all divisions are to remain in Kyoto through the Gion Matsuri."
Okita blinked, a bit confused.
"There are still over two weeks to go."
"Plenty of time to consolidate our forces," the commander replied. "And according to the information, the next conflict won't happen until the end of the year. There's nothing more to be done here."
Okita watched him walk away, grateful the commander left just then and gave him a moment alone. As soon as he was sure Kondō was far enough not to hear, he doubled over and began coughing violently, until he spat blood.
When the spasm ended, the young man barely wiped his mouth before he was already smiling.
-This damn disease -he complained.
He wouldn't be able to hide it much longer.
But still... he would try.
EDO, 1865
The sun had barely begun to rise when Enishi woke up in his room at an inn near Edo. His body still ached, but the dizziness had faded, so he slowly sat up.
"You should rest more," advised the shinobi in charge of him—a young man with features similar to his, though clearly older. "Your wounds haven't fully healed."
"I can get up just fine," Enishi replied, now seated on the bed. He still hadn't gotten used to foreign-style beds; he preferred the futon. "Kaoru-miko sama?"
"She had to move on," the shinobi informed him, still standing by the window, eyes attentively watching the outside though fully aware of his lord's presence. "She had already delayed long enough. She couldn't wait any longer. But she'll see you at the Kiyosato residence."
"I see," Enishi nodded. "I suppose the two caravans are together by now."
The shinobi nodded. "Shall I send a message?"
"No. The letter to my sister will have to suffice," he stated firmly. He saw no need to report anything further. In his mind, he had fulfilled what his sister had asked of him—at least in part—and that was enough. "Shinji-niisan is no longer in Edo, anyway."
Enishi thought maybe he should have told Tomoe about Shinji's plans for the clan. Yet it was still a whispered secret, unknown to the elders, and that alone meant it would be opposed. Enishi knew well that after Akira's death, the succession would fall to him immediately, but he also knew the sacrifices such a position entailed.
"No," he told himself. "I'll follow in Akira-niisan's footsteps."
But not as a copy. And not as a martyr.
He closed his eyes, and for the first time since Akira's death, he breathed without rage.
The paper still bore the faint impression of the family seal, carefully broken. Tomoe held it between her fingers longer than necessary before opening it. The letter had arrived that morning, before the sun had risen, though the rooster had already crowed. It had been delivered by a shinobi of the Kiyosato house.
She was seated under the eaves of an inner garden, where the plum trees bloomed too early for the season. The air smelled like rain held back. Tomoe suddenly felt that she, too, held her emotions back like the clouded sky above her.
She read each word without pause.
With every new line, her heart grew heavier.
"I want her… Not just in the eyes of the clan or the law."
"It won't be a farce. Not for me."
"And if anyone stands in my way… I'll strike them down."
The hand holding the paper trembled slightly. Not from fear. From sorrow.
"Oh, Enishi…" she murmured, barely audible, as if the wind might carry her voice to him.
He still didn't understand.
He didn't know that to love was also to lose. That sometimes, what's right couldn't be forced. That Kaoru was neither a symbol nor a promise to be claimed. Tomoe knew well to whom the miko's heart truly belonged.
And it wasn't her brother.
Tomoe closed her eyes briefly. Kaoru's face appeared clearly in her mind: the way she looked at him, at Kenshin; the way Kenshin looked back at her. There was peace in that gaze. And love. Not desire, not duty—real love.
She placed the letter away, without folding it. She wouldn't burn those words. Not yet. Because they were the words of the boy she had once cradled to sleep, and of the man who still didn't know what love really was.
Tomoe remained seated for a while longer, unmoving, holding in her lap the weight of a choice that wasn't hers to make—yet one whose sorrow she felt as if it were.
Sanosuke knew that he had already extended his stay in Edo longer than he could afford. It had been almost two weeks since he should have left for Kyoto! However, he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet. In Captain Sagara's last letter, he had been told that if he didn't leave within three days, it would be impossible to carry out the adoption process. The country's mood was growing increasingly tense, and if they allowed more time to pass, the administrative processes would be frustrated.
However, for Sano, it had been difficult—if not impossible—to leave after the symbolic confrontation between Kenshin and the champion chosen by the Shinsengumi. After discovering the connection between the two, it was clear that he couldn't leave his friend in such a sad state.
The days following the encounter had been torturous.
Two funerals were held then, one for the former leader of the Kamiya clan and another for the fallen samurai Kiyosato Akira. The first was a symbolic event in the city, while the second was private. Sano attended both, more to keep an eye on Kenshin than to pay his respects to the deceased. But even so, he had been unable to approach his friend.
... ... ...
"Himura-kun needs to be alone," Master Genzai had told them when both he and Megumi had insisted on seeing Kenshin after the encounter. "I know it's difficult. But the internal struggle he's going through is one he must face alone. When he's ready, he will come to you."
Sanosuke had wanted to argue, but Megumi had stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Believe me, I understand how you feel. But if you claim to be his friend, you'll know how to be patient." She had told him.
"Che!" he had exclaimed, pulling away from her grip. "As if I didn't already have enough..."
... ... ...
Then, Kiyosato Tomoe had arrived, and the brown-haired man's patience began to wear thin. As Kenshin's friend, Sano—still more of a teenager than a man—feared that his companion's spirit would sink even lower. After all, what could the wife of the man Kenshin had just killed possibly say to him?
Both he and Megumi had found it exhausting to stay on top of things (Megumi trying to monitor the woman from the Kiyosato clan), even following them after the apparent agreement between Kenshin and Tomoe, once they were able to speak.
Just relationship did not make sense for any of them.
... ... ...
"I'm telling you. Jouchan isn't going to like any of this," Sano had complained at one point, days after the conversation between Battousai and Tomoe.
Although Megumi shared suspicions about that woman—especially regarding how close she seemed to be to Kenshin—she couldn't help but be more cautious.
"Personally, I think you're worrying too much. You forget that it's rumored the princess of Kyoto is actually engaged to the Kiyosato clan. From any angle, Tomoe-san's closeness can be justified by her belonging to the same clan."
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean they need to spend so much time together," Sano had retorted.
"Why don't you admit that what really bothers you is the fact that you can't speak to him yourself?"
That had ended the conversation. Sanosuke had to face the truth in Megumi's words. What bothered him was that a complete stranger could be so close to Kenshin, and that he, despite calling himself his friend, still had to keep his distance.
... ... ...
Fortunately, Kenshin sought him out as soon as his spirits had nearly returned to normal. A brief conversation after dinner, outside in the courtyard by the well.
But even though they had, in their own way, made up, Sanosuke still felt there was a line he couldn't cross. Kenshin would turn 16 in less than three days, while he still had nearly eight months to wait before his own genpuku(coming-of-age ceremony)—if, of course, his adoption went through.
The brown-haired man sighed, having been lamenting his fate for a while.
"Are you alright?" Megumi had asked, stepping out to meet him.
He was in the gardens behind the mansion, sitting under the shade of the trees.
"I'm fine," he replied. "I'm just thinking about how to sort out a couple of messes."
The brunette understood instantly.
"Kyoto?" she asked.
In the last few days, Sanosuke had opened up about his history and his relationship with Captain Sagara and the adoption he had proposed.
"It seems I have three days to decide if I want to be adopted or not."
"Is it really that difficult? I thought being part of Captain Sagara's family was what you wanted the most."
Sano frowned.
"It is. But I don't want to leave just yet. I know Kenshin is fine, and his struggle isn't entirely tied to mine. It's just that I was hoping I wouldn't have to travel alone."
Megumi looked at him with some pity. After Sano had stayed behind during the rescue of what was now the leader of the Kamiya clan, the brown-haired man had lost the chance to travel with members of the Sekihotai, some of whom also had business in Kyoto.
"Oh come on, don't be a baby now. The trip to Kyoto is just a week long, and I'm sure you'll get enough provisions to survive the journey," she teased, deciding to sit next to him on the grass.
The wind blew then, carrying away some of the heat from that day.
"It's easy for you to say. You have your place here, with Master Genzai."
Silence.
Sanosuke turned to look at her immediately after the silence had settle.
"You do have a place here, don't ya?"
Megumi smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"I wonder…"
The wind blew again, this time more forcefully.
"In fact, I was thinking of traveling to Kyoto as well. My father is there, and he's been in the city for almost three years. I'd like to reunite with him."
The brown-haired man then remembered that the Takani family was a well-known noble family of doctors, and he wondered what achievements he must had made in his previous life to now be surrounded by such important people. Naoko'd surely be thrilled.
"Why don't you travel together?" they heard Kenshin's voice just then.
"Kenshin!" Sano jumped. Megumi looked just as surprised beside him.
Kenshin was standing on the engawa, and unlike the previous days, he was wearing his usual clothes again, even carrying both swords at his waist; his hair was once again tied up in a high ponytail. He was a samurai on duty.
"Sorry to surprise you," the redhead apologized, moving closer to them. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Che! More like you were spying."
"Sanosuke!" Megumi scolded him.
Kenshin could only laugh in response. He then bowed to the young doctor-in-training.
"I'm sorry for the trouble I caused during the past days. I deeply appreciate the care you gave me, Megumi-dono, and apologize for the late gratitude."
The brunette couldn't help but blush.
"Not at all, Ken-san," she assured him with a hand gesture and a nervous smile.
"Ken-san?" Sanosuke questioned with a furrowed brow. "Ow!" In response, the young woman elbowed him in the stomach. "Why did ya' hit me?!"
Megumi ignored him and looked only at Kenshin.
"I also have a duty to fulfill, Ken-san, it was no trouble. I'm glad you're feeling better."
The redhead smiled.
"It was thanks to everyone's care. But I wouldn't want my suggestion to remain in the shadows. You two should travel together; it would at least be safer for both, and you'd certainly attract less attention. I'm sure Kamiya-dono would provide transportation for you."
Sano and Megumi exchanged a look, weighing the idea.
"As long as the punches don't become a habit, I don't see why not," Sanosuke replied, shrugging his shoulders.
Megumi rolled her eyes.
"As long as you know how to behave, I don't see why I should treat you like a barbarian."
"What do you mean?" he complained immediately.
Megumi crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks.
"Well, well, it seems we have an agreement," Kenshin interrupted.
"Seriously, Kenshin," Sanosuke spoke to him, serious. "How are you doing? I feel bad about leaving you when you've just recovered."
The sun was covered by lazy clouds then, and the light dimmed a bit—almost as if the samurai's expression followed suit.
"I'm fine, Sano… I can't thank you enough for the concern you've shown for me and all the support you've given me. As things are, I feel more than indebted to you; I've kept you longer than necessary. I'm sorry."
The wind rose again in small whirlwinds. The clouds passed, and the sun once again lit up the garden. Just as the light dazzled the landscape, Sanosuke did the same to Kenshin.
"Sanosuke!" Megumi shouted.
"Oro!"
He gave the redhead a playful smack on the back of his head.
"Idiot," the brown-haired man grumbled.
Megumi rushed to attend to Kenshin, who was still complaining about the pain with a series of "oros."
"Are you stupid or something?" Megumi lectured Sano.
But the boy's attention was on the samurai.
"Listen to me, Kenshin, because I'm only going to say this once," the young man warned. His friend was kind enough to pay attention. "I don't like it when you talk to me in that half-dead samurai tone. I help you because I want to help you, you don't owe me anything, got it?" Then he crossed his arms and turned away to make his point clear. "That you're sorry? Ridiculous!"
Megumi started throwing insults at him then. But Kenshin...
Kenshin finally looked at him with the light of his smile illuminating his entire face.
"I understand. Sanosuke."
They spent the rest of the day catching up. They talked about future concerns and the plans that had recently opened for each of them.
It was decided that Megumi and Sanosuke would travel together to Kyoto, heading to the Inari Shrine, and would look for the Guji mentioned in Sozo's letter. They would use the journey to gather key information for the movement, and Sano would help Megumi reunite with her father, Master Takani.
Kenshin would remain in Edo for a while longer. He didn't say it openly, but it was clear to both friends that he wanted to wait for the arrival of the princess of Kyoto. And although neither knew anything about the status of their relationship, they wouldn't question it but instead would pray that good fortune would be on his side.
The sunset came before they realized how much time had passed. They were about to head to their respective rooms before meeting for dinner in the main hall when Genzai found them.
"Himura-kun," he called.
The redhead turned to look at him instantly, halting his steps as Sano and Megumi did the same.
"Kamiya-dono requests your presence in the dojo."
Kenshin blinked. Megumi and Sanosuke exchanged a glance with some concern.
Since the funeral of the previous leader of the Kamiya clan, Kenshin had not spoken to him yet...
The sun had begun its descent when Kaoru's company arrived at the mansion where they would stay before heading the following day to the mansion under the Kiyosato clan's charge, and then—if they were lucky—move on to the Kamiya castle.
They had arrived with some extra time, allowing them to afford a longer rest. However, as soon as Kaoru had changed her clothes after a bath, the miko was already preparing to leave. All of this was done under the discretion of Chokkai Kaito and Mae, the older woman in charge of dressing her.
"Kaoru miko-sama, are you sure about this?" Kaito asked as he handed her the rabbit mask under which the miko would conceal her face.
Meanwhile, Mae adjusted the cape on the miko's shoulders.
"I already have a shinobi(ninja) in charge of my protection and the guidance of my visions," Kaoru responded confidently. "I assure you there's nothing to fear. I'll return even before Enishi-kun comes back."
She had waited so long, the miko thought. If Kondo-dono had responded in time, she would have arrived two days ago, and her meeting with Kenshin wouldn't have to be so conflicted.
"What should I do if someone from the shrine requests an audience?" Kaito asked as he followed the miko to the servant's entrance through which she would slip away. Mae smiled at her companion's nervousness.
Kaoru smiled understandingly.
"You won't have to worry about that. The disturbances will prevent anyone from leaving until after noon tomorrow," she declared.
She had had that vision after the conflict in the village had settled and before meeting with Enishi. To be sure, she had done divination over the following two days, ensuring she always got the same result but with consideration for possible variables.
Additionally, she had taken extra precautions.
"I'll take my leave then," she said as she reached the exit.
"I'll have everything ready for your return," Mae assured her, and both she and Kaito bowed, saying afterward, "May the goddess of luck be on your side, Kaoru miko-sama."
Kaoru stepped out onto the street, which bordered a river that was not deep but fairly wide. Near the entrance, and along the entire silhouette of the river, ancient trees stood tall. Even though she didn't know exactly where her new ally was, she could faintly feel the vibration of his ki.
"I leave myself in your care, Beshimi-san," she said, putting on the rabbit mask.
From the shadows, the response came.
"There's no need for keigo(formality), your excellency. Leave your protection in my hands. You can trust that no member of the Oniwabanshu will fail such an important mission."
Kaoru adjusted the knot on the front of her cape.
"I know. Arigatou."
Carefully but quickly, the miko slipped through the night and walked with steady steps toward the long-awaited meeting.
The Kamiya dojo was immersed in a silence that seemed to respect the memory of those who were no longer there and the presence of those who still doubted their place. The sunset filtered golden lines of light through the paper panels, tinting the floorboards with shades of fading fire.
Kenshin arrived at the dojo after receiving the message from Dr. Genzai. It was Koishijirō who had summoned him, but now, standing before him, it seemed as though he struggled with the impulse to speak first. He stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back.
"Himura-kun," he finally said. "Thank you for coming."
Kenshin nodded, with that stillness that always seemed to hide emotions beneath a controlled surface.
"You called for me," Kenshin simply replied. "And that is why I am here."
Koishijirō walked slowly and sat on one of the side benches. Kenshin did not follow. He remained standing, like a disciple unsure if he would be received by his master.
"I thought that after everything that happened, after Akira san... perhaps you wouldn't want to see me."
Kenshin lowered his gaze.
The truth was, that event had struck him to the core, and he felt a shame as great as the one he had felt the first time he took a life, even though the context was now different. The life he had taken had been someone he admired.
On the other hand, there was the issue that the original plan had been to avoid killing the opponent, and regardless of the circumstances that had pushed him down a different path, the redhead had felt that he had failed in some way. And despite knowing deep down that the older man would not reproach him, he couldn't help but feel as desperate as he had at the time.
"I did not come out of courtesy," Kenshin repeated softly. "I came because I had to."
Koishijirō nodded. His eyes drifted to the emptiness of the dojo. "Kiyosato Akira stayed for half a year at the Kamiya mansion; and during that time, he was a student here."
Kenshin listened in silence. The confession did not ask for comfort. It only sought a witness. Moreover, Tomoe had already told him about the time she and her husband had spent in Edo, and even confessed to knowing about the secret of Kaoru's birth.
After that conversation, Kenshin had come to understand even more the internal conflict of the clan leader. And for that moment, he couldn't help but think of his own master, Hiko Seijūrō, and wonder how his master was doing and if, perhaps, he too had struggle with his own feelings and duty towards him.
"That duel was mine, Himura-kun," Koishijirō added in a subdued tone, cutting through the younger man's thoughts. "Not yours. It was I who should have faced him. Not you."
The redhead was already shaking his head before he even answered.
"But I was the one who decided to wield the sword. No one forced me," he reminded him, almost contradicting him. "Others, too, tried to dissuade me, and if I remember correctly, I was the one who insisted on fighting that duel."
Koishijirō observed him. Not with judgment, but with an understanding that only someone who has also lost something can have.
"I know," he said softly. "I saw you... in those days after."
The air became denser, as though the words invoked images too recent. Koishijirō invited him into the dojo with a gesture of his hand. Kenshin complied, walking until he was three steps away.
"I spoke with Tomoe-san after her arrival. I hope you don't mind that I took certain liberties in what I said to her about you."
"Not at all," Kenshin replied. In truth he was grateful. Had it not been for him, neither Kenshin nor Tomoe would have spoken first.
"I thought it was prudent to intervene. To finally make use of the experience I carry. I don't intend to teach or tell you what you should do. I can't give you all the answers, but I can guide you. I wish to guide you. What I spoke to you about days ago... I still stand by it."
Kenshin took a deep breath, feeling how a tide slowly rose from his chest and then slowly ebbed away.
Even though he hadn't said it, he had been worried about having fallen out of favor with the one who was the father of the person he loved most. In the silence of his room, when guilt had tormented him, the fear of having lost that blessing had kept him from sleeping more than once.
He stopped the tears that threatened to form in his eyes, as well as the knot that formed in his throat.
"If I am to be completely honest, Himura-kun, I am the one who is afraid."
Kenshin blinked, confused. Previous feeling interrupted.
"May I ask what about?"
Koishijirō smiled sadly, laughing softly after.
"I fear, Himura-kun, the reaction of a daughter toward her father," he confessed.
The brief silence that followed was punctuated by the sounds coming from outside, from the garden, from the insects preparing for the night.
"For years, I not only lived this lie, but I also forced my daughter to make it her own. The problems she faces in protecting her position at the shrine are largely due to the mistakes of this selfish father... And now, with the recent events... It doesn't seem like I can be someone she can rely on."
Kenshin listened to the older man's words and considered each one.
"I fear the rejection of my daughter."
Silence.
It was true that such a secret had shaken Kaoru's situation—especially in the context of the fight—but it was clear that the intention had always been to protect her. On the other hand, there were details about Kaoru herself that escaped the control the clan might have had. If Kaoru weren't such a revered seer, perhaps the secret wouldn't have been so delicate.
But most importantly...
"If I may say so, Kamiya-dono, I don't think you have anything to fear."
The man then looked at the young man before him. Kenshin smiled with certainty; the dying sun's rays illuminated his silhouette from behind.
"Kaoru-dono... has the kindest heart I've ever known." He stated. "She speaks of everyone's right to have a second chance when they are truly sorry. And I believe in her."
Koishijirō's eyes widened in astonishment, his heart leaping in his chest.
"I don't pretend to say I know her better than you. But the time I spent with her, even the moments in which we vehemently argued over our differing ideologies, has made me realize, there is no lie in her desire for redemption for the people she constantly intercedes for from her position as miko at the Inari Shrine."
That was a bet, based on a dream Kenshin hoped was true.
'The next time we meet, I'll tell you everything,' Kaoru had promised him in that dream.
"So, as you see, a person who shows such kindness to people she doesn't know, will show a thousand times more kindness to those who are her family. I can assure you of that."
Koishijirō let out a short laugh, very short, almost like mocking himself. But the smile that appeared on his lips was sincere.
"I'll believe your words, Himura-kun."
The scene might have ended on a nostalgic and warm note; both men might have even walked together to the main hall for dinner. But as soon as the light of the day faded...
So did that calm.
"Koishijirō-sama!" A voice was heard outside the dojo, followed by hurried footsteps.
A servant followed by two guards. The latter stayed outside while the servant climbed the engawa.
"Koishijirō-sama!" he exclaimed, finally entering the room, hurriedly removing his sandals. After bowing quickly in front of the leader, he spoke again. "Koishijirō-sama, there's been a report of a confrontation on the outskirts of Edo."
Both the older man and Kenshin jumped in alarm. It was too soon for a response from the bakufu.
"Explain!"
"Symbols from the Shinsengumi and the Ishin Shishi have been seen. It seems that the conflict began due to a disturbance in a nearby village!"
Kenshin already had one hand on the hilt of his sword. His face showed no rush, but there was an absolute concentration.
"Himura-kun."
"I'll go out with a patrol," the samurai declared. "Kurama-dono has already requested my help."
Koishijirō observed him, finally seeing that the redhead was back in his active samurai clothes, no longer in that dark yukata that reflected his internal conflict. There was determination in his gaze. The man then recognized the strength of the young man before him. Himura Kenshin was no ordinary samurai. Himura Kenshin would be the warrior who tipped the scale in their favor.
In the end, he nodded.
"I leave it in your hands," he said.
Koishijirō gave the necessary orders, and soon a division of samurai was preparing to head to the confrontation, Kenshin among them. The young man left with the weight of the past balanced on his shoulders but without allowing it to break him.
The confrontation took place at a dusty crossroads on the outskirts of Edo, a secluded spot where the shadows of the trees stretched out toward the road, enveloping the ground in an expectant silence. The sun had already set when the conflict erupted.
A small group of Shinsengumi advanced, warriors from the second and fourth divisions, their faces hidden beneath wide-brimmed hats and war fans that cast shadows over their eyes. These were not the feared captains, but their skill was as lethal as any other samurai in the order. They were the spies and saboteurs, those who preferred tactics and cunning over brute force.
It had been the same group that had been attacking villages and prefectures that sided with the emperor. Recently, after their failure at the last village, they had decided to move forcefully into Edo after hearing of the defeat of the Shichogumi.
However, they hadn't counted on the Ishin Shishi from the south, who were preparing for battle, hidden in the corners of the brush and the shadows of nearby buildings. Men and women, former samurai, peasants, and mercenaries, their hearts burning for the cause, lined up in silence, their eyes filled with the fervor of revolution. At their command, a tall and thin commander, his face scarred like a map of past battles, led them into the fray.
The air had been sliced by the sound of a whisper, and then a wild scream shattered the silence. The Shinsengumi advanced like a snake, swords drawn, determined to close the distance with their opponents before they could regroup. Their steps were swift, but measured, and the earth creaked beneath their boots with every advance.
From the opposite side, the Ishin Shishi responded with a volley of gunshots, their projectiles cutting through the air in a straight line toward the Shinsengumi. The shots echoed like distant thunder, but the members of the Shinsengumi dodged with mastery, some even sliding across the ground with feline agility to avoid the hail of bullets. In the blink of an eye, one of the Shinsengumi fell to the ground, a precise impact to his side, but before his body could touch the earth, his comrade was already upon him, delivering a swift and deadly thrust to one of the Ishin Shishi, slicing his opponent in half.
The combat erupted into a whirlwind of steel and blood. The sound of swords clashing, the buzzing of katanas sliding through the air, filled the battlefield. A Shinsengumi, with his katana drawn and his combat stance perfect, faced an Ishin Shishi with a more brutal style, but equally lethal. The clash between the two warriors was like the sound of two storms colliding, each blow heavy and aimed at destabilizing the opponent.
"Forward, everyone! Move forward without stopping!" commanded the leader of the fourth division.
"Hold your ground! We can't let them enter the city!" responded the leader of the idealists.
In the distance, at a corner of the field, two warriors locked eyes. One of them, a Shinsengumi from the second division, with a gaze full of calculated calm, faced a leader of the southern Ishin Shishi, whose hands gripped a naginata firmly. The air between them thickened, charged with electricity, as if both understood the magnitude of what was at stake. The leader of the Ishin Shishi raised his naginata with speed, looking for the opportunity to strike his opponent in a single blow, but the Shinsengumi reacted in an instant, blocking the attack with a metallic sound that reverberated in the air. Their battle became a deadly dance, each waiting for the perfect moment to deliver the final blow.
As the battle raged on, the field filled with fallen bodies, men fighting until their last breath. The fog of sweat and dust covered the combatants, mixing with the blood that splattered across the ground. The southern Ishin Shishi, though brave, began to feel the pressure, while the Shinsengumi held their ground, like a wall of steel, unwilling to give an inch.
"We're losing ground!"
"Quickly! Smoke bomb, now!"
"Fall back!"
The cry of a Shinsengumi rang out in the night as, with a single blow, he cut off an enemy's arm, sending him to the ground. But there was no time to celebrate the victory, for the next moment, one of the Ishin Shishi threw a smoke bomb into the middle of the battle. The white smoke began to envelop the field, blinding everyone present, and as visibility diminished, the warriors began to move more cautiously.
A moment of stillness. Then, the sound of quick footsteps in the fog. The swords gleamed for the last time before the battlefield descended into complete chaos, with both sides unwilling to give up, as the future of the war depended on how quickly they could adapt and decide the course of the battle.
The confrontation on the outskirts of Edo was not just a battle between samurai, but a clash between two visions of Japan, between the old guard and the new ideals of the revolution, and neither side seemed willing to back down.
The air was heavy, laden with the tension that precedes storms, and the sun had already hidden behind a cloak of clouds that seemed to darken the stage even further. Kenshin advanced with his squad of samurais toward the outskirts of Edo, where the last spark of resistance between the southern Ishin Shishi and the Shinsengumi was about to ignite. The mission was clear: intervene in the fight before the chaos took an irreversible turn. The cold wind of the night seemed to whisper in their ears, as if the earth itself was waiting for history to decide which path to take.
The sound of unsheathing swords was lost in the rumble of battle cries and the clang of steel clashes. The footsteps of his fellow fighters echoed behind him, the samurai of Edo, all with a single goal: to defend the future of their nation, even if it meant defying the power of those who sought to impose an old, brutal order.
"We must take them from the rear," indicated General Touji, a renowned samurai in the Kamiya clan. The others nodded.
Kenshin felt the vibration of the battlefield in his legs before he even saw the scene before him. It wasn't the first time he had faced war, but something about this moment made him feel different. He knew he was about to cross a threshold, a point of no return, as if by crossing that line, the weight of what had been and what could be would merge into one destiny.
Suddenly, from the right, an explosion of dust and smoke marked the start of the confrontation. The battle was already in full swing, and the atmosphere was charged with a mix of cries of pain, clashing swords, and the sound of feet running on the disturbed earth. Without thinking twice, Kenshin unsheathed his sword, feeling the familiar weight of the blade in his hand, that extension of himself that connected him to his ideals. His mind was calm, but his instincts were those of a man forged in battle.
With a battle cry, General Touji charged toward the enemy, closing the distance quickly. The others followed him, like a crashing wave hitting the wall of their opponents. The sound of steel clashing and the roar of swords slicing through the air filled the space as the Ishin Shishi and Shinsengumi fought fiercely, regardless of the magnitude of the war unfolding around them.
"Reinforcements! Reinforcements have arrived!"
Kenshin and his squad burst into the heart of the battle like a storm of steel unfolding with precision. With a single move, Kenshin deflected a sword from a Shinsengumi who was trying to attack him from the flank. The man fell to the ground, his surprised scream muffled by the wind. Kenshin wasted no time, advancing swiftly, his katana gliding through the air with the smoothness of a floating leaf cutting without leaving a trace.
The tension was palpable, and every blow felt like a fight for the soul of the nation. Every samurai who fell, regardless of their side, was another story of sacrifice in the long fight for independence and change. Kenshin knew it wasn't just about a physical battle; the future was at stake, the convictions of an entire people.
An Ishin Shishi, his face covered by a mask, leaped toward him with surprising agility. Kenshin observed him for a second, seeing the determination in his eyes. The young warrior wasn't as experienced as him, but the passion in his attack was fierce. However, Kenshin didn't let himself be carried away by the emotion of the moment. In a blink, his sword cut through the air, and with a technique that seemed to dance in the wind, he disarmed the young warrior without causing him fatal harm.
"Wait. It's not your time," Kenshin told him, lowering his blade so as not to fatally wound him. The young warrior, stunned, stepped back, realizing he couldn't defeat this man with the unshakable calm that emanated from him.
Others who saw it immediately recognized his presence, remembering it from past confrontations on the battlefield.
"Captain, that technique!"
"Yes. It's the Battousai demon."
"We're saved then."
"Don't lose formation!"
Kenshin continued advancing, cutting his way through the chaos, with his squad at his side. The Shinsengumi who crossed his path were fiercely loyal, but their fight was more for honor and ancient tradition than for a greater cause. The Ishin Shishi, on the other hand, fought with the fire of revolution in their hearts, but without the discipline many of the samurai from Edo possessed. It was a battle of ideas, principles, just as much as swords.
As the wind carried the dust and the battle reached its peak, Kenshin reached a Shinsengumi who was about to strike a young member of the Ishin Shishi. With a quick twist, Kenshin deflected his sword, protecting the young man, but the movement left him vulnerable for an instant. An Ishin Shishi tried to take advantage of the opportunity, charging at Kenshin's side with his sword. However, with speed so quick it was barely visible, Kenshin spun around, deflecting the blow and sending the attacker out of the fight in a single movement.
The fight continued, but Kenshin's presence, his calmness, and his skill began to destabilize the battlefield. The Shinsengumi began to retreat, confused by the intervention of a samurai who wasn't willing to kill without reason.
"They're retreating!"
"Let's take advantage and push forward!"
"Press them forward!"
Kenshin advanced in the midst of the confusion, his katana dancing in the air with deadly precision. He wasn't looking for glory, nor celebrating violence. His only goal was to end the fight, protect those who still had a future worth fighting for, and perhaps, just maybe, find something that had escaped him in the darkness of his own past.
The battle was fierce, but somehow, the wind seemed to shift. Kenshin's intervention had altered the course of the fight, and though the confrontation continued, something in the air suggested that the balance was beginning to tip.
... ... ...
Kaoru began to move quickly, following the course of the river that extended westward, moving beneath the cloak of shadows. Beshimi, silently, kept a few steps behind her, always alert, always ready, as he moved between the trees. No sound betrayed their advance, and had anyone seen them, they would have been nothing more than a blink in the darkness, as if the night itself had swallowed them whole.
When they reached the bend in the river, Kaoru felt a shift in the atmosphere. The air grew thicker, laden with foreboding. She knew time was running out. She knew Kenshin's group was rapidly approaching the heart of the battle, and she also knew a trap had been activated. The Shinsengumi, in their desperation, had planted grenades in the ground, an attack as brutal as it was calculated. Once Kenshin's group stepped into the designated area, chaos would ensue. She couldn't allow that.
"Beshimi-san, we must stop them before they fall into the trap," Kaoru said with apprehension as they hurried forward.
"Understood," the shinobi responded from the shadows.
Before their meeting, when Kaoru had requested support from the then Okashira of the Oniwabanshu before leaving Kyoto, the miko had informed him of the event she wanted to avoid at all costs. It had been decided that Beshimi would be the most suited for the task, given that he was someone who could strike from a distance.
This time, Beshimi moved ahead, guiding Kaoru where to go, ensuring that she didn't step directly into the battlefield; though armed, she was not a seasoned warrior capable of surviving amidst such conflict. He had ensured, however, that she wore all white, a color foreign to both sides, and with a purpose of delicate weight.
Soon, they heard the sounds of the fight. War cries and screams of pain and suffering filled the air.
The miko breathed heavily, both from the exertion of the run and the echoes of the trauma she still hadn't fully overcome, which stole the warmth from her with each step she took. But she forced herself to keep moving.
Then she entered a scene illuminated by fire... And for a moment, the air became heavy, as if the weight of war crushed it. The color drained from her face, and the faces of ghosts danced before her eyes.
"Kaoru miko-sama, it's important to keep your eyes open," Beshimi warned, now standing ahead of her.
The interruption worked. Kaoru blinked, dispelling the spell.
In a fraction of a second, Beshimi moved like a shadow. His hand stretched out, pointing with deadly precision to the hidden positions of the grenades, his fingers barely brushing the air, as if each movement were part of a silent dance.
They were a few meters away from the outskirts of the conflict, almost at the midpoint of the terrain, parallel to both fronts.
The wooded terrain, where the conflict had shifted, provided the perfect cover for Beshimi, who slid silently between the shadows, invisible in the smoke and chaos that surrounded him.
"I ask that you stay safe, Kaoru miko-sama. Once I finish here, my service will be complete, and you must move on alone," the shinobi told her before leaving.
Kaoru barely managed to nod, thankful for the mask that concealed the fear that surely showed in her expression.
Beshimi, like a shadow, moved to the other side, knowing time was critical. The sound of the battlefield faded for Kaoru, who focused entirely on the mission: reaching Kenshin before disaster struck. She began to move sideways, taking the relative safety offered by distance, yet aware that she had to slowly move closer.
As she moved closer to the front, where the Shinsengumi seemed to be retreating, Kaoru finally saw him.
"Kenshin."
Her heart skipped a beat. And before she could think about what she was doing, she ran toward the battle.
More than one man nearly collided with her—luckily, she was on the allied side, even though the samurai didn't know it—those few who stopped to truly look at her preferred to ignore her, feeling as if they were facing a spirit.
Others crashed into her directly, knocking her to the ground.
In the midst of the chaos, she managed to get up, just as she spotted Kenshin, who had already pushed forward.
Her heart sank to her feet.
And in the next instant, she screamed.
"KENSHIN!"
... ... ...
It was as if an invisible thread had tightened.
A thread from which her heart hung, connecting to his.
She had heard her voice so clearly that, for a brief moment, Kenshin doubted he was even awake. But he had no time to doubt, as she called out to him again.
"KENSHIN."
Hearing his name, Kenshin spun around quickly, his eyes searching for the source of the voice. But before he could find her, a loud explosion erupted at the front, the smoke rising from the fire born of the blast.
Kenshin and the others stopped, initially bewildered.
"Stop the advance!" ordered Touji, and others repeated his words.
The squad of Edo samurai, trained to respond quickly, halted upon hearing the command, while Beshimi, from a safe distance, triggered the hidden grenades at the front.
Kenshin understood.
"Fall back! The area is mined!" he shouted.
The order was repeated.
"Fall back!"
The battlefield filled with confusion for a moment, and while the Ishin Shishi and Shinsengumi, upon discovering the failure of their trap, continued to fight relentlessly.
"KENSHIN!" Kaoru screamed again, for the threat had not yet passed.
There was a tremendous roar, and then the fire from a cannon struck near the lines.
Kaoru fell to the ground from the tremor, others falling as well.
Kenshin, who had managed to foresee the attack barely two seconds in advance, had managed to move away in time. He fell a short distance, and that was when he saw her.
Kaoru had barely managed to rise on all fours when Kenshin was already moving toward her.
"KENSHIN!"
The smile that had immediately appeared on her face, however, faded as soon as he reached her.
"Why are you here?!" he shouted.
And in his voice, the terror that had overtaken him was evident.
Kaoru struggled with her words before finally responding.
"...I... I had to—"
"We can't stay here," he interrupted, already looking in several directions.
During their meeting, the imperialists' response had been organized, and soon cannons fired from the revolutionary side as well. Kenshin instinctively protected Kaoru, moving her and holding her close when necessary, shielding her with his body.
Then, Touji—having seen them in the midst of the chaos and recognizing his niece—arrived at their side.
"Himura!" he called.
He then placed a key in Kenshin's hands.
"Take Kaoru out of here. You know where the hideout is. We'll cross with her once we pass the city limit."
Touji gripped Kenshin's hand with such firmness that the contact seemed to speak more than a thousand words. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the full weight of the war, trust, and responsibility was conveyed without the need for further explanations.
"I'm counting on you."
Kenshin, allowing himself to be measured through that gaze, nodded before running with Kaoru in hand, away from the battlefield.
The rain unleashed as soon as they began their escape.
The house was hidden among the trees, a secret refuge barely off the main avenue leading into the city but away from the storm and the war, in a secluded corner where the shadows of the night mixed with the humidity of the climate. The wooden roof creaked under the weight of the rain, which was now falling hard on the rooftops and the muddy ground. At first, there were soft, small drops, like whispers from the sky, but soon the storm exploded with the fury of an ancient roar, filling the air with a constant pounding, as if the entire world was trying to purge itself.
Kenshin moved quickly, not stopping, with Kaoru being guided—almost dragged—under the grip of his hands.
"Kenshin." The miko, barely able to keep up with the samurai, called to him. "Kenshin, slower. Please."
But the redhead barely heard her. His jaw was clenched, and his brow furrowed in a clear gesture of anger.
"Kenshin, please stop." Kaoru begged again, her throat tight, the cold and fear settling in her core, and the threat of tears in her eyes. "Kenshin... Kenshin, please stop."
As soon as they crossed the first entrance—a tall stone wall that bordered the property—Kenshin roughly released Kaoru, as if her touch burned him, though not so roughly as to make her stumble.
Still disoriented, Kaoru tried to approach him. The redhead had his back to her while struggling with the lock of the front door. "Kenshin..."
He turned abruptly, brushing her hand away with his.
"Why are you here?!" Kenshin exploded, his voice breaking with fury, anguish, and the fear of losing her. "Why, Kaoru?! Why?!"
Silence.
Kaoru's wide-eyed gaze met his, her tears evident alongside her fear.
Kenshin turned away, unable to keep looking at her. "Damn it!" He exclaimed after hitting the door, the lock finally giving way.
The redhead stood still, however, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself.
Kaoru, soaked and shivering, opened and closed her mouth several times, the knot in her throat preventing her from speaking.
"I had... I had to see you..." She finally responded, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I had to warn you."
Kenshin let out a short, broken laugh.
"Couldn't you have sent a letter?" The sarcasm in his tone didn't hide the pain that consumed him. He was furious, not only because she had followed him here, but because her presence only complicated the decisions he had to make. The battle wasn't just external; within him, there was also a conflict, a tug-of-war between his duty and his feelings.
However, at his question, Kaoru furrowed her brow, as if she couldn't believe what he was suggesting, clearly not noticing the sarcasm in his words.
"No!" She responded, taking a step toward him, defiant yet vulnerable. "Of course not, Kenshin! I'm under constant surveillance. I can't risk a letter being intercepted."
Kenshin's frustration became palpable, his fists clenched as he turned to look at her before turning again to open the wooden door. The weight of the situation pressed down on him... The samurai stepped inside, and Kaoru immediately followed.
As soon as they were safe from the rain, Kaoru sighed with relief at the warm air of the place. The house wasn't large, with only three rooms, one of them the kitchen with the central hearth.
Kenshin took a simple turn before facing her again, clearly having continued the argument in his head.
"Couldn't your spy have been enough?" He complained, looking at Kaoru with a mixture of disbelief and desperation. "Did you really have to come? To the battlefield, no less!"
Silence.
Perhaps it was because the warmth was returning to her body that the miko didn't hesitate then.
"I'm not going to apologize," she said firmly, her voice breaking with the tension of the situation. Her words were clear, but her heart, so vulnerable, could barely hide the fear she felt for both of them.
Kenshin laughed, a hollow, bitter laugh, without joy.
Kaoru hastily continued, not wanting another misunderstanding. Their last confrontation months ago remained unresolved. "Not for this, at least. I had to come."
For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, and in that instant, Kaoru felt the torrent of emotions battling within him. Kenshin was angry, yes, but there was also something else, something that had remained hidden in his eyes all this time: relief. Seeing her safe, here, now, had ignited something within him that he feared, something he couldn't control. And yet, the mission, the duty, the war, all of that was dragging him back into the darkness.
Kenshin wished he could embrace her.
"I have to return to the battle," he said with a firmness that left no room for doubt, moving back toward the entrance.
Kaoru's heart twisted in her chest.
"Kenshin..." Kaoru called, her voice soft, contrasting with the storm that raged outside the house, but unable to stop him.
The redhead barely turned to give her the key in his hand.
"This is a safe house, a refuge. You'll be safe here."
"You can't go back," Kaoru responded, her words coming with the urgency of someone seeing a dangerous path within reach.
But Kenshin didn't listen. He insisted on not listening to her, as if the sound of his own voice could drown his worry. He turned and walked back toward the main hallway.
"Make sure to lock yourself in and don't leave until I come for you tomorrow," he said, his tone authoritative, like a man who had no choice, even though he was questioning it inside.
"Kenshin!" Kaoru's cry broke with the contained desperation. The rain hit them again, the wind was deafening, but what she felt in her chest, the anguish of not being able to convince him, was much stronger.
He finally stopped but didn't turn to look at her. He stood still, on the verge of stepping into the rain. Waiting for her to say whatever she needed to say so he could leave.
"The last time I saw you, I said hurtful things..." Kaoru looked at him, her eyes filled with remorse. "I want to apologize."
Kenshin continued without looking back.
"...It's not necessary. We were both wrong in a way." Kenshin sighed, letting the weight of those words linger in the air. "I'll see you tomorrow."
And he moved toward the main gate.
Kaoru followed him.
"Kenshin..." Kaoru called again, her voice trembling, but with the firm conviction of what she was about to say. "Stay. Please, you can't go back!"
"I have to go back. It's my mission." He responded, managing to free himself from her grip on his gi.
Kaoru stopped.
"Even if you go, there's nothing you can do. The outcome is already decided." She declared, her hands clenched in fists at her sides, her voice an octave higher.
Kenshin continued walking.
"All the more reason I have to go back. I have nothing to stay for that justifies abandoning the fight."
Kaoru felt irritation take over her. Why was he suddenly so stubborn? She desperately questioned herself.
And it was that same desperation that led her to shout—and perhaps also confess—the declaration she had wished had happened in another place, under another context.
"I'm in love with you, Kenshin-no-BAKA(big idiot)!"
The silence that followed was overwhelming.
The boy's steps stopped abruptly. His eyes wide.
Did he hear right?
The redhead turned slowly, first just his face, as if afraid that if he turned, that vision would disappear. He turned until he could look at her directly.
"What did you say?" he whispered. The incredulity in Kenshin's voice was palpable, as if those words couldn't possibly be true.
The miko breathed heavily.
"I made you a promise," Kaoru responded, her voice softer, more vulnerable now. "That when we met again, I would tell you everything. Kenshin, please, trust me when I say you need to stay."
Silence.
Then, the samurai shook his head, completely oblivious to what she had just said.
"No. That's not it. What did you say earlier?" He pressed. Not a trace of anger, nor of the desperation from before.
The reaction was immediate.
Kaoru seemed to shrink into herself for a moment as her cheeks flushed like sakura blossoms, despite the cold in the air.
Kenshin's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed hard.
Three steps.
It only took three steps for him to return to face her. A breath away.
"Kaoru..." He urged.
Because her answer was what would finally make him stay. Because seeing her, here, after months of dreaming of her—and finally away from the battlefield—his feelings were once again taking control, and he was elated.
Suddenly, it was warm...
Kaoru bit her lip before straightening up and looking at him with determination, her eyes filled with a light different from the sadness.
Slowly, Kaoru took Kenshin's hands with both of hers, intertwining their fingers. She slowly lifted her gaze back to his.
And in a soft voice, she confessed:
"I'm in love with you, Kenshin."
...
Kenshin felt like he was breathing for the first time.
His lungs inflated, making him feel like his chest had become larger, and maybe it had. His heart raced wildly in his chest. A bunch of little jumps before diving.
Kenshin nodded.
"It's what I thought you said," he said.
...
Taking advantage of the hold on both hands, Kenshin drew Kaoru toward him, pressing her body against his. His hands wrapped around her in an embrace. Left hand on her waist, right hand holding her at the back of the neck, guiding her...
His mouth, open, shared the breath as soon as it sealed with hers in a kiss.
...
When Kenshin embraced her, Kaoru felt a surge of warmth course through her body, as if everything she had feared and desired had finally come together in that moment. Their heartbeats mixed with each other, and for a moment, the noise of the war, the storm, disappeared.
Kaoru's hands instinctively flew to wrap around him, first around his shoulders, then his neck; burying themselves in his red hair.
She breathed his name, and at the sound of it, Kenshin felt something inside him unravel. It wasn't just the confession of her love. It was the acceptance that he couldn't keep fighting alone, that the battle he feared most was the one being fought in his own heart.
Not pulling away, not stopping exploring and recognizing each other through that sweet contact...
Kenshin guided Kaoru back into the house...
Closing the door behind them with a movement of his foot.
...
Outside, the rain fell with force for just a moment longer before it began to ease.
The moon shone high, a faithful witness to a new beginning.
A/N: Any thoughts on what could happen now? Do you think that was a good reunion? or not? What did you have in mind?