Rurouni Kenshin 1. The end of one, beginning of another

_Ciao!!!_

_This is my second story… another AU. I don't think I copied this idea from anyone but if I did please let me know and I will give them due credit. It will contain drama, action/adventure and romance… mostly Kaoru x Battousai/Kenshin._

_I can only hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! And now without further ado- on to the story! _

Romancing the King Chapter 1 

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The end of one, beginning of another 

Prayers from all over the country rose to greet the morning sun just peeking over the mountaintops in the East. The Queen was giving birth, and news from the Castle were gloomy when it came to her health. Already two days ad passed, and the new heir to their kingdom had yet to arrive.

Heads bowed the peasants prayed, all work resting as by order of the King, for the health of their beautiful young Queen and the future of their country. Only when the most brilliant ray of morning light reflected off the roof of the castle's highest tower and the joyous tolling of the bells sounded across the land did the people lift their faces, look at each other and silently pray for a better future for themselves under the new King that had been born that instant. Hope died last, even in a country like Dunkelland. 

The King was furious. Hadn't he explicitly ordered his wife to bear him a son? Yet not only had she defied his order, but had dared to die in childbirth as well? The King couldn't believe that. Not his faithful wife, not the woman who had killed two female children without any complaint. His glowing reddish-brown eyes settled on the old midwife who had scuttled away from his wrath and was cowering in one corner of the room, a small bundle in her arms.

"You _dare_ tell me I have yet another daughter after announcing my wife is dead?" he roared. The frightened glances of the woman and the thin wail from the bundle in her arms were his only answer.

"I will not have this!" The King was beyond livid. The midwife clung tighter to the child, the last child of her beloved mistress. Her King was advancing on her, his measured strides full of rage and hatred. I guess your life will be short, little one she thought, remembering the Queen gasping as her life ebbed away. A loving look had been in the eyes of the young woman, love and a fear greater than anything a human should have. I promised I wouldn't let her die, I promised my mistress… she said the child was the last gift the Gods had given her… I was not to let her little girl die, the little girl she gave the name of a sweet smell… Warily, she eyed her King come closer.

Suddenly, the King's movements halted altogether. His rage seemed to subside as a sly look crept upon his face. The midwife shuddered when an evil smile touched his lips, more a snarl than the expression of happiness it was supposed to be. Then he held out his hands.

"Give _him_ to me."

The midwife tried to retreat further into the corner, wanted to pretend she hadn't heard what her master had said. Her withered hands clutched the fine fabric wrapping the tiny infant. 

"Didn't you hear me? I said to give him to me! I want to hold… Kamiya!"

Trembling, the midwife obeyed the command, knowing without doubt it would be her death if she didn't.

"Thank you." The child looked even smaller in the giant King's arms. The midnight blue eyes of a newborn peered from the folds, staring in rapt fascination into the dreamscapes that conscious thought could never enter. The King didn't look into them; he didn't even look at his child. He held it without love, shifting his grip so the baby was cradled in the crook of his left arm, leaving his right hand free to grab the sword hanging at his side.  

"I can't have anyone know that my son is my daughter," the King murmured to himself. A silver flash streaked through the air, and the midwife fell, her gown quickly drenched in red from where her chest had been slashed. 

A frightened gasp came from behind the screen separating the Queen's closet from her room. As the King whirled around, the baby in his arms and his eyes glowing a terrifying red, the midwife tried to reach the screen with one outstretched hand. 

"No… don't!" her voice was drowned out by her own blood as she drew her last, gurgling breath.

The King didn't even notice her as he stalked towards the screen, yanking it open and exposing the trembling figure of a small boy of maybe five years of age. "You…!" the King screamed. 

"What is it, Sir?" The captain of the King's guard came rushing into the room when he heard his master scream. He found him, a baby in one of his arms, his other arm holding a little boy up to face level, his hand squishing the child's throat. Strangely enough, though the boy was shaking in fear he didn't move his gaze from the King's enraged face, large eyes hefted onto glowing red ones.

"Dispose of this while I take care of my son and this woman," the King threw him the boy, who fell short of the captain's arms and crashed onto the floor with a sickening _thud_. A small cry escaped from his throat as blood seeped from a long cut on his left cheek made by one of the surgical instruments the King had thrown around in his rage. The boy didn't move once his body had come to rest, blood staining the expensive honey-colored wood of the floor. His hands were curled around his midriff, making his figure seem even smaller than it was. The captain bowed, scooped the boy up by the shirt he was wearing and left the Queen's room and its smell of death. So the unfortunate midwife had let the Queen die- the scalpels, bloody rags and the stiff body in the bed were proof of that- but at least not before she had delivered the heir of Dunkelland. But why did the boy have to die?

Perhaps he is a relative of that woman's the Captain thought, studying the frail figure of the boy who hung motionless in his grasp, breath labored as his windpipe had almost been crushed in the King's fist. 

"Are you going to kill me?" the lilting, innocent voice almost brought tears into the captain's eyes when he nodded. He stopped in midstride when a small hand brushed against his cheek, the chubbiness and cool softness of the skin soothing him.

"I understand. It's not your fault," the child said, letting his arms fall from their uncomfortably twisted position they had to achieve to reach the guard's face. He smiled, a sad little smile. "Granny is dead, too, so I won't be alone."  

The captain felt his heart constrict. That a child this small already knew death… He silently wept as he carried the boy into the castle's courtyard. "Aren't you afraid of dying?" he asked acting on impulse. The boy shook his head.

"I know the name of the King's heir," he said, "and I have to die." His flaming red hair spilled across his back, blood across his face from the cut, yet not a tear showed in the large, expressive delft blue eyes- only resignation and acceptance. 

This was when the captain of the King's guard decided the boy would live.

"What is your name, little one?" he asked his burden. The boy averted his gaze. "My grandmother called me… Shinta."

The captain and the boy had reached the edge of the old, majestic wood that stretched out for miles upon miles behind the castle of Dunkelland- the Dunkelwald. The ominous shadows of the trees reached out to grab them, and the slight figure of the boy shivered under their threat. The captain set him down. He simply stood there, a small statue, eyes hefted onto the ground, arms hanging limply by his side.

"I'm sorry, Shinta." As the captain drew his long, silver sword from its scabbard the boy closed his eyes. He was still a child, and even though he didn't tremble in the face of death he was not brave enough to look it into the eyes and defy it with a glare. "I'm sorry."

Blinding pain shot through the boys' left shoulder, and he cried out in shock and agony. "Run, little one, run!" 

His body refused to move, blood dripping onto the ground littered with dried leaves and needles fallen from the trees above. The voice of the captain of the king's guard came and went in waves.  "Run! You have been given a second chance at living. Shinta is dead- but you're still alive. The will to live is stronger than anything- you will have to find that will within yourself if you want to survive from now on. There will be nobody to help you or to take care of you. Run, far and fast, straight ahead. If you make it through the woods you will find a house. This is where my brother lives. He will take care of you if you make it this far. Now run! Run and live!" 

Despite the weakness in his limbs the boy moved, his small right hand clasped over the deep cut in his left shoulder and arm that was bleeding freely. Without looking back he ran into the waiting darkness of Dunkelwald, more frightened of the events behind him he had witnessed and didn't understand than of the woods ahead. 

His sword still dripping with the blood of the boy- Shinta, his name was Shinta- the captain of the King's guard returned to the castle. King Koshijirou awaited him at the third gate, his infant son in his arm. "Have you taken care of the boy?" he asked coldly. The captain dropped to one knee and presented is bloody weapon. 

"He has been taken care of, Koshijirou-sama." 

King Koshijirou nodded his approval. "You are a very worthy and loyal man, Captain Hiko Shimajirou. Your services will be rewarded well."

Shimajirou bowed his head, still kneeling in front of his lord. Somehow, his act of defiance had made him feel more at ease with himself even though he, unlike his more impulsive and arrogant younger brother sought a stable position in life and didn't mind to subjugate himself to an authority for that. 

"Now leave!" 

"Yes, Koshijirou-sama." He bowed deeply before walking away backwards until the king turned his back on him. Then he sighed, turned around and went to practice with his men. However much time would pass, the image of a small redheaded child with disturbingly large, wise delft blue eyes would never leave him, and in a way Hiko Shimajirou was thankful for that, for it forever reminded him of one thing he had done right in his life.

**18 years later – the second day of the reign of King Kamiya**

With a loud yawn King Kamiya awoke an hour before dawn. Throwing back the lush covers of his bed the king got up and went to bathe himself before any of the other inhabitants of the castle of Dunkelland arose. This custom had been ingrained into his very being by his late father, King Koshijirou… rage seethed through the king's veins at the thought of King Koshijirou's death. "Beloved father…" he whispered, his voice a little high and hoarse from the pain and fury that constricted his throat, "I swear, your murderer will be found, and then I'll kill him with my own hands. A crime such as this may not go unpunished- never ever!"

Wrapping himself in a wide robe the King stepped from the bath and quickly dressed in wide tunic, riding trousers and a scarlet cloak as the sign his rank. Even though King Kamiya was still young, barely even of age, he was feared all over the country for his ruthlessness and quick, dangerous swordsmanship. King Koshijirou had driven the young man relentlessly, he wasn't only an exceptional fighter and horseman but could also hold his own in unarmed combat and his shrewd wits and strategic mind had earned him the respect of his army. 

He was still unused to being called 'King'- it had only been two days ago that the corpse of his father had been found and ha had been made king… the young man shuddered at the memory of his father's sightless eyes. How the assassin had managed to not only enter into the castle but also into the King's private chamber and kill him wile he slept was a mystery to everyone. The whole of Dunkelland was looking for clues as to the assassin's identity, but the only one found was the one the murderer had left himself- a long, diagonal slash on the King's left cheek, reaching from below the corner of his mouth up to the temple next to the corner of his eye.

King Kamiya shuddered. How could this cruel murderer dare to rob the land of its King and not leave it at this but mutilate his body as well?

"Good morning, Kamiya-sama!" The gray-haired captain of his father's guard, Hiko Shimajirou bowed deeply when he left his quarters. The old man's body shook with the effort it took him to remain standing after a night's watch, and the bruises on his face and neck painted his mistakes in vivid colors. After his failure to protect King Koshijirou he had been stripped of his rank and punished accordingly, and it was only due to King Kamiya's benevolence that he was still alive. After all, the old soldier had served his father and himself faithfully for close to thirty years now. King Kamiya was no monster even though evil tongues dared to speak otherwise. He possessed an iron will and an equally iron hand when dealing with his subordinates, but that did not make him the bloodthirsty despot some people wanted to see. 

King Kamiya didn't acknowledge the guard's presence but simply continued on his way to the palace gardens and his practice grounds. He had scheduled a meeting with his new captain of the guard and chief investigator. His route took him almost through the entire castle, past the stables that held the steeds bred for strength and speed and used by him and his most trusted and loyal underlings, past the gardens in which the greens that were served on his tables were cultivated, past the lake that had been formed in one small, secluded quadrangle for him only to use, and past the sleeping quarters of his personal guards. Everything was still deserted, as the hour was ungodly early and the crisp morning air untouched by the sun's rays. Flickering torches were the only source of light for the young king. 

Finally, he reached the large courtyard that held the training grounds for himself and the castle forces. A small, cloaked donzel opened the wooden gates for him. Their creaking protests were duly noted by the king. 

"You should have oiled the hinges," he hissed, striking the boy across the face hidden within the hooded, dark green cloak that was part of his uniform. 

"Yes, Kamiya-sama." The boy's voice betrayed no emotion, not the slightest fearful quivering while he bowed slightly, his back stiff. It wasn't deep or groveling enough, which angered the King whose mood was volatile already without him being surrounded by incompetent servant fools. His kick slammed the slight figure of the donzel against the stone walls harboring the gates, the resounding crack of bones against stones satisfying his anger momentarily. 

He proceeded through to the training grounds without sparing the boy another look- and thus failed to see the amber glow radiating from beneath the hood. 

"I can't believe that's you," the donzel muttered bitterly picking himself up from where he had slid to the ground after hitting the wall, "but I guess people truly are formed by their surroundings."

… to be continued …

Well, how was this for a first chapter? Short? Not really? Shorter than the chapters of my other story at least… 

_Now, with this story I'm going to depend on you to keep me going. My schedule doesn't really allow me to write two stories at once. Thus, this one is (probably) going to have shorter chapters and will (certainly) not be updated weekly like shadow's Light but whenever I have written a chapter and feel like it. I can't manage any other way, and I apologize for that. I will try not to let more than two weeks pass between updates- but you have to give me inspiration with your reviews? Please?_

_Since this about all I have to say I'll say but one more thing and that's_

_Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	2. Unspeakable

_Ciao!!!___

_Finally, the second chapter has been finished. Phew! *wipes sweat off of brow* ___

_Yasai: Don't complain. If you hadn't insisted on watching those Kyoto/Shishio episodes all over again you would have completed this much faster!___

_ But I... well, you're right. **But** I was depressed because I realized that I have to go back to school next Monday. So no more interesting stuff… boredom will return with a vengeance and I can't even do sports to take my mind off it! Well I still have my rediscovered love for playing the piano, ne? Rekindled by anime…  Now, I had forgotten the disclaimer last chapter again so this one is for both chapters... and well, I hope you enjoy this chapter despite its weirdness! ___

  


_"…." Denotes talking___

_….. denotes thinking___

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I  think which one of those will be clear) has taken place___

  


Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, it's characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.

  


**Chapter 2******

Unspeakable 

After having punished the donzel for failure of his duties King Kamiya felt better. Walking across the dusky courtyard towards the two tall male figures awaiting him he even allowed himself a rare, thin-lipped smile. The stance of the two men shifted the nearer the King came. Snapping into full stiff alertness they greeted their liege.

"Good morning, Kamiya-sama." Their voices were pleasantly low and demure. Their heads were bowed low and they showed the proper respect to their King who was more imposing and seemed to stand taller than them despite his slight stature. They were not required to kneel, a privilege the King had bestowed upon them when he had given them their rank.

"Rise," the King commanded. Silently, both of the men complied with the order.

"Shinomori, how is the training of the new guards coming along?" He asked his captain of the guard. Dusk tinged the man's ice-blue eyes a shimmering orange. 

"They are trying... however, I regret to have to inform you that the villages seem to have sent nothing but incompetent fools to serve you this year- there's not one whom I would consider a true warrior. I will form them into a fighting force- but it will take longer than expected and they will not measure up to you honorable father's- may the Gods guide his soul- guard." Captain of the King's guard Shinomori Aoshi bowed his head, his icy exterior betraying nothing of the fear the King was sure he had to feel when announcing quasi-defeat to his King.

"I understand, Shinomori," King Kamiya said haughtily, "it's the villages' fault for not providing you with good enough material. I think they need to be reminded that they should give us their best. I will see that taxes are raised this year. You are not to blame. I trust you will have my guard perform to the best of its abilities in no time."

"Thank you, Kamiya-sama, you are too kind to your servant." Shinomori was a man of well-chosen words, the King noted with pleasure. He had done well appointing him to his position even though the man was barely three years his senior. Turning to face his second advisor King Kamiya gestured for Shinomori to stand at ease again.

"What do you have concerning the death of my beloved father, King Koshijirou, Saito?" Predatory yellow eyes glowed in the light of the sun's first rays. 

"The investigation so far has yielded no results. However, our spy network is activated in all of Dunkelland. The men and women have been instructed to report anyone with a suspicious scar immediately. Results should be coming in starting today."

"Good work as always, Saito. Nobody beats you as chief investigator. I will order all personnel in the country to be at your or your people's disposal." Saito bowed. He spoke even less than Shinomori if not provoked. 

The King was pleased with how the meeting had turned out. These two certainly merited the trust put in them. Whirling around to face the gates he called for the donzel.

"You! Boy! Go and fetch us practice weapons. We want to train." The donzel acknowledged the order with another of his stiff bows and scurried off towards the toolshed hidden in a corner of the spacious courtyard. The King frowned at the light, small figure of the boy. His stature was so similar to his own... normally, he would have been declared unfit to be a fighter, even an aspiring one, but since the King of Dunkelland was one of the most dangerous fighters around in spite of his rather scrawny body that attitude had changed slightly. Still- even the King had a hard time approving of scrawny boys as part of his protection force.

"Why did you let this shrimp join?" the King asked Shinomori. 

"Actually, he's the most talented of the bunch," his Captain of the guard replied, glacier-like mimic in place and impeccable as usual, "he's one of the few who have managed to learn the correct way of holding a sword, and he actually hits the target when he aims for it."

"Oh." King Kamiya said. If that was the case, the villages needed to be punished much more seriously than planned. How could they send such failures that a slip of a boy was the best they had? Shrugging, the King set aside his musings for the moment and stripped the wide cloak off his shoulders, throwing it carelessly to the ground. The gold chain that had held it at his neck clinked softly when it landed on the ground, but the King had already forgotten about it by that time since the boy returned carrying three of the weighted wooden practice swords formed to resemble actual weapons. They were not the _bokken_ used for theater fights, but neither did they possess the deadly sharp edges of real _katanas_. It was only their shape and weight that was the same.

"I have brought the swords, Kamiya-sama." His voice was still irritating the King. Smooth and soft, but with an underlying steeliness that seemed to tell everyone not to mess with its owner it was, cold and leaving no room for argumentation.

"Scram, boy," Saito snapped grabbing one of the weapons from his hands.

"Make sure nobody comes in while we practice," Aoshi added impersonally. 

The boy bowed- again, King Kamiya couldn't help but notice the obvious _disrespect_ in the respectful gesture- and moved backwards until he reached the heavy wooden gate. Pushing it shut he positioned himself outside, a motionless statue in the shadows of the early morning. Listening to the clatter of the practice weapons sound from behind the gates he turned his back to the practice yard.

"Fools," he whispered to himself, "you could be dead, you know. I thought I did the country a favor by disposing of the old King- who would have thought the new one was worse?"

_He_ did, a little voice in his brain spoke up, _he told you it was not worth it. __He told you not to throw away your innocence for revenge. But you didn't want to listen..."_

"I will prove to him I was _not wrong. If King Kamiya can see the truth behind the deception going on for all of eighteen years... then perhaps we will have peace and prosperity again."_

And why don't you simply kill Kamiya? It would be the quickest way to end it all, wouldn't it? But then you don't want to, do you? There is, after all, the promise of the one person you once called family standing in the way- a promise you swore to honor!

The donzel let out a groan, inaudible to anyone farther then three feet away. Why did he always have to discuss things with himself, addressing himself like he would another person even? Was he going insane? He had thought he had been taught better than that, and there wasn't even any apparent stress on him at the moment. 

But then a healthy measure of insanity hasn't even hurt anybody, has it?

Hiding within the folds of the mandatory uniform cloak the donzel relaxed his body. He could as well try to catch up a little on rest, he had been sleepless the whole night again. The yells and the dull sound of lead-covered wood hitting a similar device accompanied him into his drowsing state.

Kamiya twisted underneath a vicious slashing attack from Saito to retaliate with a diagonal trust at the chief investigator's midriff. Saito, of course, was too good of a fighter to let such an obvious move hit him and whipped his practice sword around to block the blow. The King smirked and slightly changed the angle of the blade with a flick of the wrist so that Saito's block would lead the attack to its target instead of blocking it. However, on crucial mistake in this strategy came to Kamiya's notice when his second opponent, Shinomori, caught the back of his shirt on his blade. In a desperate attempt to evade both fighters at once Kamiya ducked and rolled. The sound of ripping cloth filled the air with the maneuver, however, and rather fast the King stumbled to his feet again.

Shinomori had frozen in his tracks when he had heard the King's tunic ripping. Looking as shocked as he could with his rather icy mannerism he watched the two halves of the dark green garment flutter towards the ground. Saito halted his movements as well, and both stood perfectly still watching the pale figure of their King whose torso was only covered by a wrapping of white bandages. Kamiya wasn't making any attempt at getting up. Still crouched in the same position he had landed in when his tumbling roll had been completed the King seemed to have lost his touch on reality. 

"Kamiya-sama, are you injured?"

"Kamiya-sama, do you require assistance?" 

Two voices speaking up at the same instant. The King, however, did not answer, at least not for a few seconds. Then the shrieking began.

A thin wail, like that of a wounded creature of the forest Dunkelwald rose from where King Kamiya crouched. His slim frame was shaking as he rocked back and forth on his heels, mumbling incoherently amid the horrible shrieks he produced. Saito and Shinomori looked at each other questioningly before turning their attention back to the King who was by now emitting high-pitched yells while clutching at the bandages around his chest. Shinomori was the first to give up trying to figure the King out.

"We should get him back to his chambers. Hand me the cloak," he said. Saito wordlessly went over to the carelessly discarded pile of scarlet fabric and gold chains and picked it up from the floor. Shinomori draped the cape across the slim, shaking shoulders of his liege before touching them with his hands. Kamiya had stopped shaking the second he felt the fabric on his body. He shook off Shinomori's touch rather brutally.

"I will retire now." His voice was harsh and raw from the treatment it had just received. Without acknowledging his closest advisors he hurried from the courtyard. Vaguely, he noticed the presence of the donzel at the gate but didn't care whether the boy was sitting there slumped against the wall and sleeping. The mind of King Kamiya was hurtled into chaos at the moment, and the only thing the King truly desired was some quiet- and perhaps a nice hot bath to help him sort things out.

The memories that had arisen when Shinomori had torn his tunic had been so horrible that he couldn't handle them. He had buried what had happened then so deep inside himself... still, such a simple trigger was sufficient to bring them all to the surface again. Kamiya stormed along the corridors, his pace so fast the air rushing past him blew out a few torches on the walls. He only stopped when he had entered his private quarters and was all alone for once.  

Kamiya fell onto his bed like a dead man. His upset mind was still too shocked to think any coherent thoughts, a rapid succession of images and sounds flashing before his eyes. Never go undressed... you _know_ why I gave you the private bath, Kamiya!... Why am I different, Father?... you _will obey my commands..._

"STOP IT!" he screamed, the assault finally taking its toll, "Stop it, I _was_ obeying you! I _didn't_ go against your commands. Please, no, not again... don't!" Heaving sobs wrenched themselves from the young King's throat. King Koshijirou's frowning, stern face bearing down on him, his body burning with the memories he let the tears fall, helplessly, feeling insignificant, small and alone. "I didn't want it to happen, I didn't!" 

*~*

"You didn't want it to happen? That's your excuse?" King Koshijirou towered before the small, shivering wet figure of his son who cowered in fear at his feet. 

"Please, it was an accident, Father... Koshijirou-sama... an accident! I was knocked over in training and tore my clothes!" The child was frantic.

"I will teach you that accidents like this shall never happen again!" The King's hands were so large... for a fleeting moment the child imagined himself to be but a little sapling under the King's foot- and then the sapling was crushed...

*~*

Kamiya whimpered pathetically as this particular memory decided to come to the surface. His mind had become a sea of unchecked emotions, calling forth yet another lecture from his father about how 'emotions were for the weak and a future King was not weak'. "But now I am King, and I am still weak?" the young King whispered into the cold emptiness of his room. 

"I am different from the other boys- still. Father told me when I was younger that it would become better with time, but I am still different... and it's not become better at all!" 

A knock at the door made the King stop whimpering and collect himself into some semblance of dignity. He got up from where he had flopped onto the bed and dressed himself into another wide tunic, this time a dark black-violet in color. King Koshijirou had not believed in fancy clothing, and he had passed his dislike of embroidered silk robes, constricting vests and tight pants hindering free movement to his son.

"Kamiya-sama? May I ask you to come and eat breakfast?" That voice- it was the annoying donzel again. The King studied his reflection in the small mirror he had put up on the wall next to his bed, the only mirror he ever looked into. His eyes were slightly reddened, but the flash of rage in them at the thought of having to encounter the respectless boy again covered that up. Straightening his posture, King Kamiya slowly and proudly strolled to the door and flung it open so that the donzel had to leap out of the way of the heavy wooden projectile it had become.

"Lead the way, boy!" King Kamiya ordered gruffly, feeling slightly undignified at the high squeak to his voice that always seemed much more prominent when he had agitated his throat. The donzel gave an ever so slight inclination of the head- only a _very benevolent person could have seen this as a bow- and turned on his heel, briskly walking down the hallway. King Kamiya narrowed his eyes in annoyance. The boy would need to be taught a lesson. _

"You. What is your name?" The boy seemed to flinch at that, his frame shuddering slightly under the dark, heavy cloak he was required to wear. No answer came from him as he slowly walked on. The King was furious. How dared this little boy defy _him, the all-powerful ruler of Dunkelland, again? He lashed out with his fist, catching the boy on the side of his head. He didn't make a sound as the cloak's hood was pushed off his head, long hair that seemed the color of blood in the light of the torches on the wall spilling over his shoulders since its binding had been torn by he King's punch. King Kamiya gasped._

What is your name, little one? the donzel thought idly, uncaring that the King's fury increased with each passing moment. Perhaps it would be better to answer him... but he couldn't use his true name, oh no, he couldn't. His true name was known to at least one person in the castle, and he couldn't run the risk of being found out before he had accomplished what he had come for... 

"What is your name?" the King asked again, drawing the sword he always carried on his hip as a sign of his rank and privilege. The donzel watched the blade whip towards his throat with impassive eyes whose color was hidden by the shadows of the bangs covering his forehead. Red lights flickered up and down the sharp side of the King's sword as the tip touched the boy's flesh at his throat. Giving the slight cut he inflicted upon himself no regard the boy lifted his head to meet the King's enraged, stormy blue eyes.

"My name is Akai." His voice was so even! The King wondered whether he was human. Pressing his blade more into the boy's throat he tried staring him down, which was next to impossible considering the dark violet eyes were as flat as the surface of the mirror the King had looked into earlier and showing about as much of the boy's feelings.  
"What is the name of your family?" At this, something flickered in Akai's face, something akin to fury. It was gone too fast for the King to be certain it had been there, though, so he simply stared into the vacuous gaze of the donzel. The boy's face was still half covered by shadows, except for his eyes, which stood out with almost piercing clarity. 

"Adauchi." He had given in. The King withdrew his blade.

"Well then, Adauchi Akai, you will be in the training court this afternoon." With this, the King stalked off. The donzel hid his head underneath his cloak again, one hand flying up to his cheek as soon as the King had turned his back on him. He has not seen, he told himself before hurriedly following the ruler of Dunkelland to the Great Hall where meals were served. 

Breakfast was a quick affair, as always, the King no believing in long, drawn-out and scrumptious meals. Once it was finished, however, the King rose, signaling he was about to give a speech. Silence befell all the men and women working and living in the castle as the expectantly settled their gaze upon their young ruler. The King cleared his throat once before addressing the assembled people.

"As you all know, my Father has been murdered by the infamous coward known as _Battousai_. And I am certain you are privy to my attempts at locating and bringing to justice this criminal. However, the past two days have shown my efforts are in vain so far. I have therefore decided to award a bounty of 10 gold pieces to anyone who captures the murdering scum. His description is common knowledge. How hard can it be to find a man with eyes like a falcon and a single, long scar on his left cheek? I expect results by the end of this week. If not, I will have to punish you all."

Akai the donzel shrunk further into his cloak at the King's words. He knew about Battousai, of course- after all, how many men could claim firsthand experience at killing a King? Not many, that was for sure. But how many had been foolish enough to linger, to stay at the crime scene and wait for events to unfold that were only a very indistinct hope? None that he knew of.

"Hey, what do you think? You comin' with me Battousai-huntin' this afternoon?" The brutish man next to him slammed a hand onto his back, meaning to be friendly. One glare from icy cobalt eyes underneath the cloak shut him up.

"I see... ye're busy this afternoon, right?" the man stuttered. The donzel nodded, then, out of the blue, decided to elaborate.

"My presence is required at the training court," he said, his voice as cold as his eyes.

"No need to get all worked up, tyke. I don't even think a shrimp like you would be of much help against the Battousai, right?" The man had an annoying habit, adding 'right' after his sentences. But he did have a point: the donzel wouldn't be _any help in going _against_ Battousai... _

"I think you are right saying this," he stated matter-of-factly. His neighbor's jaw hit the floor. Apparently, the donzel proved to be too much of an enigma for him.

The King left the Great hall, officially ending breakfast. The donzel quietly went back to his duties, leaving a very bewildered would-be Battousai hunter behind.

... to be continued ... 

_*grins* so this is hat you get when you send a weird little authoress on a plot-bunny hunt. Yes, I know Kaoru is waaaay OOC but I'll try to keep her the only one. After all, she **has** been raised as a boy and by a cruel father nonetheless. I **know** that in the series Kaoru's father is most likely nothing like this since she speaks very reverently of him and honors his ideals so much, but for the sake of the fic he had to be a bad guy. Please forgive me! As for the other characters and their appearance: well, it's not yet time for them.  ___

  


**Reviewer's corner: ******

**_Natsuko_**: _Thank you sooo much for understanding. There's so much on my mind right now that I find it relaxing to write, but I guess this will change once school starts again...___

**_Nicky9_**_: Not too much story yet, I'm afraid. But once I get to the next chapters there will be a plot revealed- promise!___

**_MP1_**_: *grins* I meant for it to be confusing... but you're right in assuming Kaoru/Kamiya as Koshijirou's daughter. Only she was raised as his son... __*grins again*___

**_lebleuphenix_**_: Thanks a lot! I hope I can keep the suspense... even though I don't want to employ too many cliffhangers in this one because it's not as regularly updated as SL.___

**_Darkening_**_: Whee... your questions are pretty complicated but yes, this is more like a medieval setting.No specific country, even though I'm daring to venture into Japanese honorifics *insecure looking* _

**_Brenna_**_: what would I do without my darling betareader? I love you and your wonderful ideas!___

_Thank you all for reading! If you'd rather contact me by e-mail like Brenna and Darkening either look into my stats or simply mail to Hoshiakari@web.de _

_Cya next time!!!___

_Chibi-chan___


	3. Untouchable

_Ciao!!!___

_Geez! This is written under the influence of the shocking revelation that I had to do homework **at home** for the very first time in my life. I used to do the stuff in five-minute breaks, but now... I guess it's all that prepare-for-the-final-exam-talk that makes teachers going crazy. Moreover, I am now four years younger than the rest of my class. Sure is different! Classmates tease you mercilessly and teachers are twice as hard on you. Yikes! I have to prepare a lecture on Mendel's Laws for LK (__»__ honors class) Biology already! And this was only the first three days... what have I gotten myself into? Well, at least I can still write to stave off depression... _

_"…." Denotes talking_

_….. denotes thinking_

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I  think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, it's characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.

**Chapter 3**

**Untouchable**

Akai? Adauchi? Honestly, couldn't you come up with a better name? His habit of talking to himself had gotten the better of the donzel once again, and he grimaced at the sound of his voice in his head. I couldn't think of anything else. Besides, it's fitting, isn't it? Red Revenge? It _is_ what I came here for... that and to make this land better place to live in for more people. _He_ will probably skin me alive once this is all over- but then _he_ doesn't have control over me anymore- I ran away from him five years ago already. 

He was standing guard outside the door of an important military general, an obese and revolting character who had gotten into his position because he had done King Koshijirou a few favors that were not to be openly mentioned. He knew about as much about leading soldiers into battle as a slug knew about high-speed racing, so he had retired early to the rank of 'advisor' to King Koshijirou. His assistant, a sharp-faced young man whose name still was a mystery to the donzel, however, was to be considered a really dangerous opponent...

His posture had slightly drooped since he had given it no regard at all, but at the slight sound of shuffling feet down the hallway he straightened up again. He already had to meet this afternoon whatever King Kamiya had intended as his punishment for 'talking back' this morning, and he didn't intend to reap in any more questionable honors.

"You, boy! Is Hiruma Gohei available?" Why did everyone address him as a boy? He knew he was a bit on the short side and probably his face didn't really show his age, but he was twenty-three years old! 

"Hiruma-dono is in a meeting with his assistant. If you could wait for a moment I'll ask him whether he will meet you. Could you please give me your name?" He decided to be polite, though he had to force his speech through gritted teeth. The man hadn't done anything but state what he had seen. And it _was_ after all part of his disguise as Adauchi Akai to appear as a young donzel training to become an officer in the great army of Dunkelland.

"Sure. My name is Kiyosato Akira, internal affairs counselor for King Kamiya."

The donzel stiffened. Something about that name struck a chord. He had heard it before...

"I will announce you to Hiruma-dono," he said before leaving the man behind outside the door. 

Hiruma Gohei was seated behind his desk, his huge, bloated figure appalling as always. His face was red, perhaps from shouting at the tall, lean assistant who was currently leaning half over the desk and talking to his superior in quiet, hushed tones. But then perhaps Hiruma had just imbibed too much wine- one never knew. He had a foible for things such as silk robes- which was apparent since he wore one so bright it gave the donzel a headache- food and wine. It was rumored he was attracted to young boys and girls who had not yet come of age as well, so the donzel was extra careful to hide himself in his uniform cloak whenever he had to face the revolting man.

"What is it, boy?" Now why was the assistant calling him boy so much more annoying than Kiyosato addressing him that way? The donzel didn't dwell on it, but his eyes took on a decidedly sharp glint, almost, but not quite, lighting to a different hue from his usual delft blue. 

"Pardon the intrusion, Hiruma-dono," he started ignoring the assistant's pointed glare, "but Kiyosato Akira-dono is waiting outside requesting to meet you." Hiruma lifted his head from where it rested in the folds of lard on his neck. Belching loudly- which made the donzel shudder in disgust in spite of himself- he faced the cloaked man disinterestedly. 

"Show him in, boy!" was accompanied by a lazy wave of the hand. The assistant straightened himself up, stepping back from Hiruma's desk.  The donzel bowed- slightly less low than he should have, the assistant noticed- and went outside again to fetch the one he had announced.

"He is strange," Hiruma suddenly said between two labored breaths, adjusting his weight on the oversized leather chair. The assistant, who had retreated into a corner of the room, gave no sign he had heard him. Reddish-brown eyes glimmered in the pale daylight as he inclined his head. "He is. I shall watch him closely."

King Kamiya allowed himself some time off from his duties after the shock the morning had brought to him. Ordering an escort of only three guards, he decided to go on a short hunting trip- alone. He couldn't even stand the company of his two closest advisors at the moment. The dark, brooding serenity of Dunkelwald would provide the ideal surroundings for his mood.

Spurring his mount to a reckless pace the King sped along the worn dirt path leading from the castle into the forest. King Koshijirou had often taken his son along that path, laughing at him when the small boy clung to his pony's neck in fear as the ground rushed along beneath him at an ever greater speed. He had learned to overcome that fear, however, since his father hadn't tolerated it for too long and had shown him clearly how... unbefitting it was for a future King. Now, he was just as much of a fearless rider as King Koshijirou had been, and his somewhat high voice rang out with schadenfreude and barely suppressed laughter. "Go faster!"

The outskirts of the forest flashed by, a large root forcing the King's steed to go into a graceful arching jump whose impact slightly jarred the rider but brought a triumphant grin on Kamiya's face nonetheless. 

The forest quickly became more dense with undergrowth, the branches of the firs and oaks that made up most of the vegetation hanging lower over heir path thus efficiently slowing down the hunting party. King Kamiya stared into the shadowed greenery, unable to suppress the feeling he was being watched. The last time he had had that feeling it had been his meeting with the devil, he recalled, barely two weeks before his father's death. He shuddered as he remembered every detail of the incident, the crouched figure, the flames of hell masking as he demon's hair, the glowing eyes like embers of a never-dying fire.

It had been this very place he had ambushed him...

*~*

King Koshijirou had as always spurred his horse to the fastest run possible, leaving his party to breathlessly try and catch up with him. Even his son was struggling, not that the King cared. He went at his own pace... Soon, the party had lost contact with one another, each and everyone alone in the struggle not to lose the man in front of them, too. As the soldiers cursed and yelled because of the constant assault of opposing shrubbery, one man had ridden in silence, faster than all of them but still too slow to follow the King's lead. Prince Kamiya had been a close second to his father, but 'close second' in the case of King Koshijirou meant that the King was out of sight, leaving his son no option but to track him by the sound of rustling leaves on the ground and snapping twigs as well as the occasional curse when a particularly nasty blow hit exposed royal flesh. All alone, the Prince had soon felt lost when the sounds grew too faint to track them in any direction, and had halted in his pursuit to get his bearings. The sounds of the forest had stilled to a degree where he could catch the shouts of the soldiers and their tearing through the underbrush, but not enough to actually know where his father went without reading his tracks. Sighing to himself, the Prince was prepared to dismount and examine the loose forest soil underneath its protective, springy cover of fir needles and leaves for signs of King Koshijirou's passing.

By chance, he had looked up into the foliage, a rich array of different shades of green spanning from emerald to olive, reminding him of the promise of the blue sky that lay beyond it, and by chance also he had caught the single flash of red revealed by a stray ray of sunlight penetrating the thick ceiling of needles and leaves, shining with a flickering quality to it as the shadows around it moved in the light breeze smelling of summery meadows and woody depths. The first flame of a forest fire, that was what that single flicker of red reminded him of.

Gradually, the Prince's view adjusted, and he could make out the details of the prey he had spotted. A man. It was a man, that he was sure of despite the smallish stature and the delicate, pale features glowing in the pools of shadow the canopy provided. His outfit had been chosen to perfectly blend in with he dark and mottled greens, grays, browns and blacks of the deep forest. Slightly frayed at the edges, the loose tunic and pants dyed in earth colors made him next to invisible to the untrained eye. The way he had been perched up on the branch, crouching like a panther ready to strike at the unsuspecting deer drinking from the river beneath him suggested he was familiar with his surroundings. His slight stature made him seem like a ghost of the woods, a sprite out to hunt the foolish humans who dared to try and invade his territory.  The pale face, drawn and serious, enhanced that image until it became almost tangible. And then there were his eyes. Terrifying, intense, burning- those were the words that first came into Prince Kamiya's mind. Frozen in place, he had stared at the apparition. And the apparition had stared back at him from those horrifying slits of burnt gold. A stare that was meant to convey both the strength to hold him in place and the reminder that, any second, Kamiya's prey could vanish on the stirrings of the wind tousling his long, flaming hair.

A slight movement from the figure on the branch had released the Prince from his stupor as it revealed the angry scar across the left cheek of the 'wood sprite', reaching from the corner of his eye down to his chin. It seemed to pulse in the rhythm of the swaying branches, giving off a light of its own, a red worm attached to the white, smooth skin underneath and around it. 

"Battousai!" Kamiya had shouted angrily and loudly, hoping against hope that the rest of his party was near enough to assist him in the chase. Yet the faint thundering of hooves and whispering hollers of the soldiers told him they had chosen a different path. Kamiya scowled, hatred clouding his eyes and turning them into opaque midnight blue pools without depth. The figure had shot him a dark look in response, his eyes narrowing to make he amber of his pupils shine with an even greater intensity.

"If it isn't the Prince himself," he had growled, his voice deep and not unpleasant despite the harsh, freezing undertones in it. "I guess I should be honored."

"You should surrender!" Kamiya's voice grew shriller as he increased its volume, "there's no way you could escape me! For years now you've been killing my loyal subjects, and I finally have you in my hands. You won't slip through my fingers, murderer! If you value your life, surrender now. Otherwise I'll take you by force!"

A soft chuckle rose from the dark-clad man's throat, his red hair snaking from where it had rested on his shoulder down his back in an almost hypnotic manner. "You want _me to surrender to _you_? I'm afraid I can't do that yet, _Prince_." The way he said 'Prince'- as though he meant it as an irony! Kamiya fumed silently while trying to devise a plan how to get his prey from where it sat above his head. Battousai meanwhile calmly spoke on. _

"Anyways, we will meet again!" A moment's hesitation on his part bought Prince Kamiya the time he needed.

"Wait! I challenge you to a duel!" Surprise flashed across the scarred face of the red-haired demon before his lips curled ever so slightly. 

"I would suggest you refrain from this notion immediately," Battousai advised with more than a little amusement in his cold voice. His use of the highly refined speech of the King's Court only added insult to injury. Prince Kamiya had looked ready to kill him, and probably would have could looks have killed. As it was, they were unfortunately not quite suited to do the job, and thus the world went black a moment after he had caught the amused chuckle from his red-haired nemesis in reaction to his glare. The fleeting sensation of falling, while the unmistakably rotten odor of mushrooms and rich, dark earth assaulted his nostrils, the chilling kiss of the wind on his skin as his body moved of its own accord, drawn in by the force of gravity, the single thought of impossible beauty and gratefulness to have seen it... and then, nothing. 

This was how his party had found him- unconscious beside his horse that had faithfully remained at the side of his fallen rider, a large lump on the back of the Prince's head the only testimony to what had happened. Unbelievable as his story might have sounded, trackers established that the Prince indeed spoke the truth, there had been someone on that oak tree, and there had been someone moving at great speed, who had knocked the Prince off his horse.

King Koshijirou had been furious, of course, and the first great 'Battousai hunt' had been instigated- and had remained futile. Since then, Kamiya had hated the phantom assassin more than anything else, his mockery unforgotten, his wild beauty not even mentioned in Kamiya's thoughts for fear it might lead to strange results the Prince didn't want to have to face- the death of his father had only been the final straw...

*~*

This time, however, the branches of the tall trees were barren of any life, not even a squirrel peeked out from them. It was as though the forest sensed the presence of the hunter- the silence of death preceded his steps. King Kamiya frowned. Once again, his imagination had chosen to run wild, something even years of rigorous conditioning had not gotten him rid of. King Koshijirou had always emphasized how important it was to be down-to-earth and not to let crazy ideals or wild dreams of a better future cloud ones' judgment.

"Where are those idiots?" King Kamiya murmured, tethering his horse to the small hut that had been in service as a meeting point for the royal family when they went hunting for a very long time and looked the part, too. Its slanting roof would soon crash down, and the flimsy walls had more holes than planks in them. But still, it stood, indisputably a building capable of all its purposes, if not for humans then at least for the horses that wouldn't be able to continue further into the forest because of the underbrush and trapholes that were everywhere from here on. The King frowned and lazily strolled to the side of the hut, basking in the balmy sunlight tingling on his clothes, a rare occurrence in a forest where the canopy was thick enough to effectively block the path of even the infinitely thin rays that made up the glorious source of light and warmth. Allowing himself a sigh, he shut his eyelids. What was it that always took those stupid soldiers so long? The rasping sound of his horse's teeth pulling at the sparse grass around the hut accompanied the soft whispering of the wind playing its symphony on the leaves above his head as he leaned back against the rough, splintery, sunbaked south wall of the shed. The air smelled of pine and dust and the fresh roots of grass, the underlying muskiness almost undetectable when out in the bright light and away from the looming shadow of the trees.

King Kamiya got bored. He didn't get bored easily, considering he had had to sit through more than one state dinner when he'd rather have been out in the open court training, but then state dinners didn't usually take place in such alluring proximity to his favorite hunting grounds. Sudden anger welled up inside him like an unknown beast of mythical origin deciding to take its presence from myth to reality, a beast born from boredom... He had always been quick-tempered, he knew that, it was one of the few things his father hadn't constantly reprimanded him about. "A temper befitting a King," King Koshijirou had said and smile-frowned at his son in his usual overbearing, lecturing manner, "a temper befitting a King is both calm and serene but full of righteous anger as well."

King Kamiya hadn't yet found out what 'righteous anger' felt like, even though he had walked the Earth for eighteen years now. With his father, he had sometimes felt anger that bordered on hatred, anger that consumed him and overwhelmed him and made him into a raging madman. But that was not the kind of anger he would define as 'righteous'. He didn't feel like he knew what 'righteous' was even without the anger attached to it. He only knew he was angry, for one reason or the other. At the moment the reason was the tardiness of the incompetent fools that posed as his soldiers... he didn't really want to continue the philosophical contemplation of his mind. That would only lead to more memories, which would probably lead to a repetition of the pathetic performance he had given this morning. 

This morning... it had been like a protective wall had been literally ripped down with the single thrust of a sword. It had been as earth-shattering as when he had first found himself facing his most dangerous and illusive human prey on the very path he had just left behind. Invisible strands wanted to entangle him in a net that would snatch all he held true away from him. His existence, shaky and insignificant as it might seem to himself, had to be as strong as the image he projected to others viewing him from afar. He was not to let anyone come too close to him- he might be destroyed in the process. Once, already, he had felt what it was like to have your very core exposed, your very being ripped from within your soul, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. His father had been a cruel teacher... but he had been successful. 

Turning his face into the brilliant blaze of the sun's light King Kamiya opened his eyes to dispel the last spots of red dancing across his vision in a flash of white. The soldiers were close to arriving, their frantic voices urging their mounts along coming from no more then 300 feet away, the distance between him and them diminishing rapidly. The King stood at ease, alert and tense at the same time. Already, his mind focused on the thrill of the hunt soon to begin, thoughts of the past and disturbing emotions pushed far back.

*~*

The donzel nervously fingered the cloth-padded hilt of his training sword as he stood in the shadows of the high walls of the training court. The afternoon sun stood deep enough not to abacinate the eye, yet still high enough to provide sufficient lighting for training purposes. His palms were slightly slick with sweat, he had been training with the rest of the officer candidates and soldiers for the better part of three hours already, under the sharp tongue and watchful eye of chief investigator Saito. His hood had been drawn back on his head to reveal a few stray strands of hair glimmering golden in the sunlight, a pale face slightly flushed by exertion and violet-blue eyes veering on the edge of cobalt as they were hardened in concentration. Opposite him, on the other end of the training court, the chief investigator took one last draw on his cigarette before discarding the still-smoldering tobacco remains towards the stamped-clay ground, an almost imperceptibly small cloud of dust accompanying the inevitable burst of tobacco smoke as it hit the earth.

"Adauchi Akai." It wasn't as much a question as a statement, the voice loud enough to reach the donzel's ears even though the man hadn't spoken up. The edge that stood out so clearly when he ordered the trainees around wasn't dulled when speaking to a single subject either, Akai noticed. Neither did the yellow-golden eyes mellow or the cynical twist of the lips diminish. Saito Hajime demanded absolute attention, and he got it. The donzel bowed in acknowledgement and carefully, almost hesitantly, walked across the court. The toe of his right foot caught on some bumps in the ground from time to time, but apart from that his strides were gliding and measured, a silky texture to his walk and a proud dignity in his bearing. 

"I have been ordered to test you in a fight- Shinomori Aoshi actually suggested it and King Kamiya agreed. No holding back." Saito assumed a fighting stance, gesturing for the donzel to take his place twenty steps away from him as was customary in sword duels between officers. 

"But... I haven't completed my training yet. I am not ready to fight in an officer's duel." The eyes of the boy belied the frantic pitch in his voice. Saito could read them like a book, and even though to any other observer they seemed wide, shocked, flat and void of any emotion he caught the underlying scent of the predatory creature lurking in the boy's soul.

"It is what you get for upsetting King Kamiya. Action causes reaction- the simplest law in history. Now prepare yourself or I'll strike."

The boy gave up his futile attempts at talking himself out of the situation immediately, Saito noticed with no small degree of pleasure. Akai's feet were planted more firmly into the ground, his hands grew steadier, his eyes clearer and sharper as he slid into the low, crouching stance officer candidates were taught as second starting position. Yellow eyes narrowed, Saito took in the flawless aligning of weapon and body, the almost casual grip on the training weapon that was still strong enough not to be broken easily but lose enough to allow for the use of the full flexibility of the human wrist. The center was slightly to the left, meaning his strong foot was his right, but then that was the way he had been taught and Saito couldn't be sure if it was true. 

With a slight shift in his stance Saito brought up his own training weapon, the edge slightly sharper, the wooden blade longer and sturdier than the boy's. He didn't use his real weapon- King Kamiya had ordered to give the donzel a sound beating and not to kill him, but still the rush of adrenaline in his system was the same as in a duel to the death. It was this Akai's doing, he realized, the donzel's fire spreading to the chief investigator like electricity running along a live wire. He was as eager to fight Saito as Saito was to fight him. Giving himself the pleasure of a smirk, Saito charged forward in what experts knew to be the first form of his trademark attack- _Gatotsu ichi-shiki_.

Akai's eyes widened at the speed the chief investigator displayed. Frantically tightening his grip on his weapon he brought it up in a desperate attempt to defend himself from the punishing blow of the weighted wooden sword, only to be hit by the same attack that had suddenly changed direction. The smack of wood on flesh still sounding from the walls the donzel found himself airborne, tumbling once before striking the ground at full force. He groaned and picked himself up again, one hand pressed to his left shoulder where a bruise would be blossoming already judging from the numb feeling. Realizing he was in danger he whirled around- and was once again faced with a blurring vision of dark wood before the world went spinning around him. 

Saito watched the donzel shake his head as if to clear the last cobwebs from it, rolling to his knees, pushing himself up with shaking hands, one of which still clutched the handle of his weapon. Even though he had just involuntarily somersaulted twice he hadn't let go of his only hope of defense. Groaning slightly, the boy stood facing him, defiance etched into his features and mirrored in his starkly gray-blue eyes. Saito didn't give him any respite- he didn't need it. Battered though he might appear his will was unbroken, and that same stubborn will was what King Kamiya wanted gone.

It was an impossible task. This boy's will was untouchable but stronger than anything Saito knew. It rivaled his own determination. He would not be able to break it. But he could make the boy more subdued. Saito's eyes flashed a harder sheen of gold as he charged the donzel again.

*~*

I want to tell that so-called _King the truth. I want to tear all these walls down that separate him from other human beings so he'll stop his silly antics. I want to reach into the dark confines of his mind and touch him, make him see the light. And I want to beat some sense into him... and maybe beat that damn Saito up a little while I'm at it! His thoughts tumbled over each other as crazily as he had tumbled around the training court. He let them run wild, for he knew that he wouldn't be able to silence them at the moment._

He hurt. His muscles were throbbing angrily, he was aware of his body in places he didn't even knew existed before. Even after a grueling training session with _him_, so long ago, he hadn't felt like this. His angry mind assaulted him with thoughts of how he could have easily prevented this, how he wouldn't have to go through this if he hadn't decided to let Saito beat him up. 

But then you would have given away the untouchable phantom, wouldn't you? He growled at himself, silencing the nagging voices in his mind effectively as he painfully pulled himself upright where he sat on the walls of the castle overlooking the land. It was his custom to do so whenever he had finished his duties, to come up here and look at the deceptive serenity of Dunkelland to remind himself of what he strove to achieve. Today, however, the beauty of the golden fields ripe with wheat and rye, the soft cresting hills covered by green grass and the misty shadows of Dunkelwald at the edge of his vision was lost to him, his body complaining too much about the earlier abuse inflicted upon him to be able to do anything but drink in the light and comforting warmth of the setting sun. His hands moved to brush back the hood of his cloak as he wanted to expose the bruises on his face to the healing properties of these infrared rays that were abundant in the evening, his fingers carefully disentangling his long hair from the rough fabric. Akai the donzel vanished with the simple act of exposing a face to the light of the sun, and the true nature of the man sitting high upon the castle walls appeared as though a veil covering a picture had been pulled aside.

King Kamiya was returning from his hunting trip, the cadaver of his prey lashed onto the saddle behind him, its fur rubbing against the King's tunic like its scent of blood, forest and death did against his nostrils. His eyes strayed from their path straight ahead as he contently rode along, the exhausted soldiers trailing behind, and found the lone figure bathed in a glorious display of multi-colored light. Kamiya's breath hitched in his throat as he studied the lazy movements of long hands visible only because the curtain of light was parted by the spaces between them. As the hood fell, the King felt his heart hammering faster. 

The golden-red blaze of the sunset had found its rival. The King had found his untouchable prey- or had he?

... to be continued ...

Phew! There I go rambling about how little time I've suddenly got on my hands and then I launch into a chapter of that length…

_Yasai: You should honestly reconsider that visit to the psychiatrist…_

_Hmm, my muse is as helpful as always with sarcastic comments- **she** isn't behind schedule on SL after all!_

_Yasai: Oi! I am with you in writing that story as well! So I **do** care that we're behind. But don't you want to thank certain people of great importance…?_

_Yup! My reviewers! You actually liked that strange chapter it seems… well, this one isn't any better, IMO… but I'll leave that for you to decide! Now for my favorite occupation- individual responses!_

**_Linggodess_**_: I'm actually glad I killed off the old King already… perhaps I will tell the circumstances of his death just to appease my own hatred for him… geez, and Kaoru's father is supposed to be a decent guy!_

**_Leigh4_**_: Here's more! A lot more of 'more' than I had planned  ^_~ . And it's not finished yet… *grins* Thanks for reviewing!_

**_lebleuphenix_**_: I'm sorry for all that confusion… instead of moving on I have made this one a slower chapter for everyone to recover- including myself! Thank you very much for your review- you help me sooo much!_

**_Brenna_**_: You're a dear, you know. I don't think I could write Saito or Aoshi without you… keep mixing their personalities up to their names! Thanks for being there as my beta!!!_

**_Rei_**_: The 'boy' is Battousai/Kenshin going under the pseudonym Adauchi Akai. He's currently 23 years old since he was five at the beginning of this fic. Thank you for having dropped me a line!_

**_Natsuko_**_: Wow, you sound busy! Thank you for finding the time to write me such inspiring reviews!!! I love them so much! I hope school leaves you time enough to write *eagerly awaiting your Kenji story* In Germany they have a slightly different school system. My 'LK's which I put as honors classes) are five or six hours a week… my other classes between two and four, making for a total of 42 hours of school a week. Plus homework. Yuck!!! But you tie me over… and I'm getting better with the crutches, thanks for asking! Only six more weeks… I miss sports a lot! You know what- I'm seriously considering recapping Koshijirou's death scene since he's been really awful *cringes at thought of next chapter*! The 'screaming' scene had me thinking for days… my poor beta had the most awful time editing it! Okee, stopping the rambling now! Cya!!!_

Thank you all very much for reading my story and please feed Yasai with a review, otherwise she's eating my chocolates (and I can only write while eating chocolate ^_^)! 

_Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	4. Hunt

Ciao!!! 

_OK, this is what you get when Chibi's bored to death with her lessons- a crazy double update on both Shadow's Light and RtK. I don't think I'll be able to keep up this pace with my stories, but I'll do my best anyways. Since I don't really have anything important to say this week (except that the length of that chapter ran away on itself once again) I'll just let you read, k? So enjoy the story!!!_

_"…." Denotes talking_

_….. denotes thinking_

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I  think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, it's characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.

Chapter 4

Hunt

Today's history knows of Pierre Radisson, the first European to behold the wonder of the Niagara Falls, discoverer of the land route to Hudson Bay, friend of Charles II of England and adoptive son of the infamous Mohawk tribe, the fiercest and most proud among the five Iroquois tribes. He was a man of many virtues, and certainly tributed a lot to our modern world. His life was one big adventure, and Canada would perhaps not be the same without him. Many legends were spun about him, some true, some less true. One of these is the story of how he escaped the 'uncivilized barbarians'…  it is most probably true, since historians have not yet banned it into the realm of myth. Anyways, the ingenious mind of Pierre Radisson has been credited with creating the following way to escape captivity: to disguise oneself as part of the search force. Radisson allegedly did so, thus misleading the Mohawks and creating an opportunity to return into the arms of civilization.

Some people really think he was the first to use this age-old trick… at least he was one of the most famous and the maneuver is since always attributed to him. For Dunkelländer, this perception of history is slightly wrong, since for them there was an even more famous man who was, in their opinion, the one to invent the 'Radisson maneuver'… 

*~*

It had taken only a single glance upon the glowing red hair, the pale skin of the face and the dark golden eyes burning into the distance as long fingers stroked through his wind-tousled mane in an almost sensually exciting manner for King Kamiya to know that the one he hunted had in fact come into his very own stronghold. He forgot about his guards, the still-warm corpse of the deer on his saddle, the stiffness in his muscles that came from a day of exertion and even the scratches on his arms he had received when dashing through the underbrush. All he knew was the fact that he finally had him in his hands. Him, the assassin. Him, the murderer. Him, the demon from the woods, the bane of Dunkelland's royalty. Battousai. And he was sitting up there, on the merlons of Dunkelland Castle, a cream-colored tunic and pants contrasting sharply with the bloody red of his hair, his expression showing that he had not one care in the world, the distant look on his face so unlike the predatory creature of the forest he had been at their first meeting. As soon as King Kamiya had made this observation, however, the figure's gaze settled onto him, and he shivered as it still held the same power, the same thirst for excitement, the same tense alertness it had had under the shadows of Dunkelwald. Battousai, so small up there, stiffened, his muscles rippling the red shadows on his skin as he seemed to collect himself into a striking position. The predator was back, the lazy lion lounging in the sun had become the hungry hunter of the savannah. He was dangerous. And, as King Kamiya couldn't help but note, he exuded a deep, sexual attraction, a sensuality that came with the litheness of his stature, the firmness of his form even as it wavered in the distance. Dumbfounded, he stared at the apparition for a second before he regained his bearings.

"Catch him!" King Kamiya yelled, the sound of his voice grating against his ears and shattering the peaceful evening. The red glow of the sunset seemed to dim, the fields lost their luster, the serene silence of nature was disturbed. Up on the walls, the flame-clothed figure of the loathsome killer stirred, suddenly alert again after he had been roused from his tranquil watch.

"That's the Battousai! Go, catch him!" The last of the calmness fled before the King's fury as Kamiya galloped into the first courtyard. Dismounting in a flying leap, as though he had suddenly grown wings and discovered the ability to defy Newton's laws of gravity Kamiya shouted for his soldiers and guards to join the hunt. The castle exploded in a flurry of sudden activity, rustling bodies and clamoring weapons meeting each other on accident.  The 'hunting party' that had been ready to set off as soon as the night fell- after all, the Battousai was, if the stories about him could be believed, a creature of the night- quickly stormed the walls like ants crawling up a tree to get to the sugary treats the leaves offered in the form of lice. The only difference was that they were not guided by scent- even though the scent of freshly mowed grass and glittering rivers _was_ more prominent up on the merlons of Dunkelland Castle- but by the cry of their King claiming to have spotted the bounty-laden red head of Battousai.

King Kamiya himself displayed his remarkable agility as he grabbed a long, iron spear from one of the ceremonial guards watching the innermost gate of the castle and vaulted onto the first ledge of the stairs leading up to where the demon resided. His back flip earned him a short, spontaneous burst of applause from the onlookers who cheered their King on with faces that showed their anger at the thought that the one they hunted had managed to intrude on the safety of the castle. There was not one face among the many- and there were many, for even the charcoal-colored firemen had left their furnace-like workplaces deep under the castle and had joined in the hunt for Dunkelland's most wanted. The King only frowned at his subjects. Didn't they have anything better to do than watch him? There was Battousai at large!

Kamiya charged up the stairs like a man possessed. His black hair, normally held together in a short ponytail high on his head and reaching the nape of his neck, broke free of its restrictions and streamed on the wind of his passing. His swift feet pattered the floor in an ever-steady rhythm of ascension, and his breathing only served as a supporting force to that rhythm. A blur of red, gold and violet the King was so fast his subjects didn't even realize he had passed them when he was gone already. But even the swiftest of feet didn't stand a chance against the demon, as the King soon had to painfully realize; the merlons were devoid of the presence of red-haired men. 

"NOOOOO!" The angry cry broke on the high towers of Dunkelland Castle, a distorted image of hatred and disgust left to wash across the nearby villages. Even the belfries of the village churches shuddered under its force as it tore through the Dunkelländers' hearts with an unholy force. King Kamiya slammed his fists down on the stone walls, unyielding and mocking in their untainted red glow, slammed them down until they were raw and bleeding. His soldiers, the hunters, having finally caught up with their King, stood back in horror as they watched the King's lips, stained red from where he had bitten his lip to retain a second cry, warp into the snarling visage of a savage, bloodthirsty animal. When Kamiya finally acknowledged their presence by turning to them he had regained his composure, and the passing shadow of the beast seemed only a faraway memory as the cold eyes of starless nights bore down on them.

"Search him. And when you have him, immobilize him. And when you have immobilized him, bring him to me so he can meet his destiny." Dark emotions tinted the King's normally pleasant voice, his vocal cords producing a sound like rusty hinges complaining against being used. Fear clouded the faces of his subjects as one by one they dropped back, their dark green cloaks gray in the light of the fading sun, the proud red stripes on the soldiers' uniforms intensified in color, their pale hands tainted and bloodied from the light. 

"Wherever you run, you cannot hide. Wherever you hide, you will be found. Wherever you're found you cannot escape from. My hands will have the pleasure of returning a favor to you, Battousai. I will show you what it is like to die. I died when you killed my father. You are a phantom of the dark, you don't have a family. But the scar you bear is a sign that you can bleed, and what can bleed, can die… like the deer I slew this afternoon trembled before me you will… and when I look into your eyes, breaking and fading like the day, I will be rid of the phantom in my heart, and I can be free."

"Death has never set anyone free, my Lord."

King Kamiya couldn't believe it. Like a ghost the offending donzel he had thought taken care of materialized at the top of the stairs leading down into the castle. The hood of his dark green cloak hid his face, those eyes the King remembered to be an impossible marriage between blue and violet, from view. They obscured his chiseled and handsome features, and the red hair that… red hair? One step carried the King towards the donzel. One simple move performed by a calloused, slender hand sent the hood tumbling in competition with long, auburn hair- hair that lacked the burning quality he associated with the Battousai. Eyes that were sharp and clear but not the frightening yellow-golden color the Battousai's eyes had been. His left cheek sported a bandage- but around the edges of that bandage the discolored flesh assured the King of the bruise that lay underneath and that apparently was more painful than the rest of the colorful injuries the boys' face had sustained. A small speck of blood at the edge of the bandage caught the King's eye, red and shining and mocking King Kamiya's enraged stare. Once again, the donzel's expression was fathomless, the only motion the hypnotic batting of his eyelids above those pools of the wrong color. Angrily, the King struck the boy across his bandaged cheek, the donzel's eyes screaming murder for a second, then falling silent again. 

"What do you know about death, boy?" the King asked. The donzel tilted that fineboned, black-and-blue face of his at a slight angle, eyeing his liege like a falcon assessing a roadkill for a potential meal. 

"I lost my family when I was five years of age, the day you were born, Kamiya-sama. I saw death before, and even though someone thought like you did… the death of my family did not give him freedom, nor did it hide the lies forever." 

The King looked puzzled, his rage momentarily quelled by the soothing, velvety steel of the boys' voice. Light and unconcerned as it sounded it carried the hint of something deeper, a rich texture just suppressed, perhaps not yet realized, but there nonetheless. "Your family was killed." He stated the obvious with a regal aura that made it seem like the greatest revelation on Earth. King Kamiya had always had a knack for that… he was a very convincing public speaker.

The donzel kept his silence, and in an act of defiance pulled the fallen hood over his red hair and battered face again. "I hope you don't believe everything you're told, Kamiya-sama. And I know appearances can be deceiving- do you?" 

The King looked as though he was going to strike the donzel for his words, his hand raised, the slightly chipped nails translucent in the last light of the day, cleaned of the blood the hunt had stained them with in a mumbling spring deep within Dunkelwald. However, one look at the motionless figure only a few inches taller than him convinced him otherwise, and slowly, very slowly the arm sank down to his side again. 

"I am not a fool, boy. Do you want to deserve another training session?" The King had his merciless gaze on the boy- and at last he was rewarded by a slight flinch, visible only because his close scrutiny of every single muscle the donzel sported- and there were quite a few, he noted before stopping his thoughts short of _that_ terrain again- didn't even relent for the most minute of moments. "So you don't," he said, smugness in his voice that decided to jump an octave at the most inopportune moment as always. He released the donzel from his stare, the captivated young man free to move again without being studied up close.

"I wish you the power to see, Kamiya-sama," he quietly said before bowing deeply. Blood was rushing to his head, but the donzel suspected deep down it wasn't only because of the bow. His heart was pounding in his chest, faster even than at the end of his unfortunate 'training' with the chief investigator. For a moment, shining in the husky air of the evening upon Dunkelland Castle, he had seen a vision of the future. A vision of beauty, of peace, of _good_. And that one second was enough to renew the resolve in his heart, to return him to the idealistic young man he had been when he had set out to change the world. As he was being dismissed, as he walked down the stairs from his vantage place, as he joined the frantic search for the person they could not seem to find and would not find because that person didn't exist at the moment, as he wandered the hallways aimlessly, his eyes unseeing but for the vision he'd had he knew he had found what had been lost eighteen years ago, buried in a sea of blood that had been created with the death of one unfortunate midwife.

Adauchi Akai, Battousai, Himura Kenshin… since his death eighteen years ago he had taken many names, had sported many faces, had been all over the country, had seen light and dark in many people- and he still hadn't found the answer to what hadn't let him go since the day the King's daughter had been born: how do you make a person? He knew what had made him- but he couldn't believe that a child like King Koshijirou's young daughter, whose mother had spent her last breath to tell her that she was loved, could be entirely cruel no matter how much she had been twisted - and King Koshijirou certainly had done a good job twisting her. She didn't have an identity, she was so focused on what she was supposed to be that she had forgotten that inside her beat a heart, a heart that spoke to her…

When he had left Dunkelwald, years ago in a dim dawn barely reaching the threshold of _his_ humble abode, his hands clutched around the hilt of the weapon that was his only worldly possession apart from the clothes on his back he had been motivated by the burning anger, the throbbing ache of injustice, the burning wound of cruelty and despotism that festered in his mind as well as in all of Dunkelland. He had wished to alleviate the suffering, to make the people he had seen crushed under the iron feet of a tyrant free and happy, living their life to its fullest extent, unafraid of the next day. He had killed for his goal, had offered himself as a sacrifice on the quest for the highest good he could imagine: peaceful freedom. The sacrifice had been rejected, and somehow he felt that alone justified his deeds if not the end he strove to achieve.

Two days ago, he had killed the last man standing between him and his ultimate aim. Now it was only a matter of time he had thought, only a matter of time for the new King to realize the mistakes of the past. Living at the castle had been a somewhat spontaneous decision, one _he_ would certainly have attested to the stupidity of '_Akai_'. At the end of the second day, as night came literally heralded by fanfares and the clamor of swords, he suddenly realized that to tear one world down was much easier than to build a new one.

The search for Battousai went on, Akai's absentmindedness going unnoticed for the most part since he still managed not to bump into too many people, thanks to his catlike reflexes. Every single room in Dunkelland Castle was turned upside down, every stone upturned, every closet opened. The only thing found, however, was the skeleton of a maid who had in vain waited for her lover in a secret passage behind one of the clothes cabinets. She seemed to have lost her way, and even though she wore the finest off attires her appearance was rather… too skinny so the men's desire was pretty easily kept in check in spite of the skimpiness of her dress. The donzel helped search his own quarters- a search that, of course, came up as empty-handed as the rest of them- before retiring for the night. The next day would bring enough frustration as it was, he didn't need tiredness to add to his discomforts.

I think I know a way now, he thought just before slumber claimed him, leaning against the wall of the room he shared with five other donzels and officer- wannabes, I think I know what needs to be done now that the killing has ended. I need to break a shell- and the first steps have been taken. I just wonder… I wonder… he didn't even dare to think of it. He didn't even _want_ to think of it. The King was beautiful- if only _she_ could see it, if only _she_ could be told… but at the moment it would unsettle her more than help her troubled mind, so the donzel quickly banished the idea to the farest vestiges of his thoughts before it could grow and thrive. It would take time to make the King realize the lie that was _her_ life- time he was prepared to invest. The vision of what could be held him entranced, erasing the last of his troubles as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness, a smile on his face. For once, his dreams didn't dwell on the past.

The next morning saw many more men with beard stubble on their faces, bloodshot eyes and wrinkles around the corners of their mouths than even the most roaring of all feasts produced. Not many had possessed the prudence of Adauchi Akai, also known as Battousai, to go to sleep when there still was a chance. Even though he ached all over, and his bruises and cuts had tightened his flesh into an unpleasantly sensitive lump of pain he still smiled and moved as graceful as he could manage, stiff as he was. He should take a bath… but looking at the men returning from their futile search he guessed the baths would be a little crowded at the moment. He had never thought a person could carry so much dirt around and still walk… well, the cause for the men's exhaustion and somehow disheveled state was certainly easily deducted from what the muttered.

While the night dragged into its waning hours the King had grown impatient and had ordered the gardens and the villages around the castle to be searches as well. The men who were still eagerly at it had somehow lost their fervor after crawling through the bushes and fields, and they didn't seem to like the 'natural' look the dry leaves, twigs, feathers and whatnot had lodged in their hair and clothes gave them. Akai grinned at them in spite of himself, they were such a funny sight. Had someone decided to paint a picture of them this very instant it would seem that the goblins had risen from underneath their grassy hills deep in Dunkelwald… perhaps they would have even been called Battousai's army since the hunted was after all called a demon from the woods. As if he would allow any army of his to look as though they hadn't seen a drop of bathing water in years! Smiling into the shadows of his hood, his eyes twinkling a light golden violet, he made his way to the dining hall instead of to the baths. If he was fast enough he could soak in hot water later… and perhaps get rid of that stinging cramp in his left thigh that unbalanced his steps… 

Breakfast was unusually quiet, the King absent, something that made Akai the donzel's heart strangely ache with a feeling that was unknown to him. He would have liked to see what the King looked like after a long night… he wouldn't mind to see the King in all states imaginable… 

Now where did that thought suddenly come from? You have a mission, remember? You don't want to… but wait! Perhaps this is the solution. Perhaps the way to make Dunkelland a happy country is to make its King… fall in love. Make _her_ see what happiness is… now there's only one problem: she thinks she's a he. What…NO! Absolutely NO! I am not… Okay, so I _am_ the only one who knows he's female, but… He hadn't thought a single person could occupy his thoughts so much. Not even before he had assassinated King Koshijirou had he spent so much time on a single subject… a most disturbing though rose to the surface, and he somehow couldn't swallow his rice anymore.

"Are you alright? a man next to him tiredly pushed the bird's nest his hair resembled back out of his face and eyed the spluttering and coughing Akai suspiciously. He had tried to swallow a spoonful of rice when King Koshijirou had taken the place of King Kamiya in his thoughts and that had… had somehow managed to unbalance his mental stability. "You sound as if you're suffocating, boy!"

A few hearty claps on the back later Akai was able to draw a red-faced, shaky breath without starting to cough out his lungs. He mumbled thanks to the man, and wildly looked around if anyone had perhaps caught his musings, as loud as they had been in his own head it was strange that the others, except for those in direct proximity to him, still had their heads bowed over their bowls. 

"I'm alright," he wheezed, trying to reorganize his thoughts. Had he just decided that to make Dunkelland a better place the King had to fall in love with him? Not King Koshijirou, mind you… his eyes burned and he quickly went back to his old train of thoughts. King Kamiya. In love. With him. Now, granted, she had a pretty face, and once she wore women's clothes she might not even look bad- but there was the whole character issue and… Didn't you just establish yesterday that her character can't be all that bad? Damn his thoughts! Damn the logical mind whose capabilities _he_ had taught Battousai to fully explore. Now there was but one possibility… he had to give in to his own arguments, purge any lingering doubts from his system and… 

Romance the King. As impossible as it might sound, Battousai would romance King Kamiya. A match made in heaven… one needing to persuade the other she was in fact a girl, the other wanting nothing to do with the first that didn't involve killing or at least severely maiming him. Well, at least the first would get to try to get closer to the one that wanted to kill him… 

And wouldn't that be fun…? Abruptly, Battousai slammed his half-emptied bowl of rice onto the polished hardwood surface of the long banquet table and left, disregarding the strange looks he got from the tired men hungrily devouring their meals. Whatever they thought, it could not be as strange as what went on in his mind. Not only had his eyes under the confusing onslaught of thoughts and feelings definitely changed color into the heated amber he always tried to hide from the world since it showed too much of his emotions, but he had also just decided to make a girl who thought she was a man fall in love with the man she hated and wanted to kill and… hadn't he just been at that? 

Breathing in huge, gasping breaths Battousai leaned against the wall in a hallway just outside the dining hall. His racing mind had calmed itself somewhat, but he still couldn't get the irony of it all. He had sworn to himself to hate the cruel monarchy of Dunkelland- and now one of them should love him? Him, who had mocked, humiliated, evaded her? Him, who had killed people she considered her friends? And what if she does fall in love with you? What are you going to do then? Run away? 

No. I never run away. But I'm going to leave since she will see through her pain the suffering she has caused her people. There will be no more need for Battousai. I can just… find myself a quiet little place to live in. The oily stench of the torches illuminating the hallway wanted to make him gag. The slurping sounds from the dining hall, amplified by the echo effects of the stone walls drowned his thoughts in a sea of revulsion. And how glad I'll be to be out of here, he thought, his stomach heaving. However, one small tear in his heart refused to stop prickling at the thought of leaving. Since it was more of a minor ache Battousai decided to ignore it and instead made his way over to the baths- he had enough time before he had to start his duties to soothe his bruised muscles in a nice, hot bath. May Saito rot in hell! If he hadn't done this to me I wouldn't have gone to bed that early, I wouldn't have had these thoughts before sleeping and thus I wouldn't have continued thinking that way this morning. But perhaps it was all for the better. For if I hadn't thought about romancing the King, a grimace stole its way onto his face, he still couldn't easily accept his new strategy, I would just run around in circles as I have for the past few days. Now at least I have some goal again… well, enough of that! Energetically, her raised himself from his thoughts and marched into the baths which were in a quite desolate state, in fact they rather resembled an ungroomed garden than baths, but they were still serviceable. Quickly looking around the donzel decided that nobody who could be dangerous to him was around before discarding his cloak and uniform and slipping into the fresh, hot water, rising from a hot spring underneath the castle directly into his tub. 

Now this is heaven! was his only comment as he closed his eyes and let the heat take away any residues of butyric acid and excessive accumulation of blood underneath the skin. His muscles loosened, and sighing he let himself doze off. 

His peace, however, was shattered when commotion arose outside the baths. Deep voices shouting, with one higher one interrupting and lashing out at everything within earshot. Cringing at some of the words used and the shrillness that stole itself into the shouting Battousai slid deeper into the water- just in time for the bath doors to fly open. Peace always had to be such a fragile, short-lived little creature… 

"Battousai!"

And there it went again… 

… to be continued …

  


Uh… once more, this was a weird chapter… but I hope you enjoyed its confusing introspectiveness nonetheless! Somehow, people seem to like this strange story… but before I turn to that, here are a few

Explanations:

Anything about **Pierre Radisson** is as close to the truth as my limited knowledge of history could make it. If you're interested, try reading 'Im Alleingang zum Mississppi' by Hans-Otto Meissner. It tells this story and many more! (and I only own a copy of it and not the rights to it.)

**_Dunkelländer_**_: German for 'person from Dunkelland', also the German plural for Dunkelland _

_Thank you all for reading, and now here's the_

  
Reviewer's corner 

**_Leigh4_**_: Poor Kenshin has cut his work out for him, right? I wouldn't want to be in his shoes… wait, I can't anyways, I'm a girl… but I wouldn't want to be Kaoru either… so it's OK again!_

**_Natsuko_**_: I don't like Gohei, either, and I have a strong aversion to bureaucracy and bureaucrats… so I tried to project him as one corrupt SOB who's taken advantage of shady dealings… I snickered when writing it, glad it came through! As to the descriptions: I tend to go overboard with them, have to be careful… *grins* I hate homework. I always tried to do it at school. Not possible anymore now, though *snief* Lecture was a success- I even got 15 points (that's A+). Thanks to my brother I had those nifty computer graphics to accompany it (my twin's really good with computers so it was a matter of ten minutes for him and a matter of hours for me…). Good luck held true!!! Thank you!!! *grins* I envy you your time at the dojo/dance studio. Don't have anything like that in my neighborhood, and my schedule doesn't allow for travels across town just to do sports ^_^'… Anyways, thanks again and Cya soon!!!_

**_MP1_**_: Yup. Poor Kaoru has been indoctrinated by her father to think of herself as a 'he'. Now our friendly neighborhood killer has another objective… I'm going to have fun wreaking havoc with him ^___^!_

_Innocence8: I hope reference to the title is clear after that chapter. Kamiya is the name Kaoru's father gave her when he decided to treat her as his son. Her mother named her… well, not telling yet^_^.  I try to keep OCs to a minimum… and not make them too important. *grins* Cya!!!_

**_Brenna_**_: Thank you! And you know I tend to go into romantic mode the moment you let me out of eyeshot… anyways, next chapter coming to you soon *grins* Lots of work for us… I don't particularly like it at the moment!_

**Darkening**: Geez, so many questions… OK, I'm trying my best. Connections not drawn between Akai and Battousai: imagine this is the world where a different hairstyle and lack of glasses serves as a disguise… so different eye color and bearing should be sufficient as well, right? 'Dunkelland' translated literally means 'dark country', but then I just chose it because it sounds nifty… It's not an actual country, and it's semi-civilized with slightly more advanced medieval technology. I answered the rest of you questions by e-mail! Cya!!!

**_:)_**_: I hope it's more clear now who's who… cya around!_

**_All readers_**_: Thanks for reading, and please leave me a review to know what you think of my crazy little story. Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	5. Scoundrel

_Ciao!!! _

_I swear I don't know where they come from! They just about go and write themselves! _

_Yasai: *sitting on the edge of Chibi's desk panting and looking thoroughly exhausted before dropping off the desk and landing in a heap on the floor* _

_I mean, I'm sitting there at school with nothing to do... and well, I just start scribbling (and the teachers think I'm actually busy! YAY!)... at least until they catch onto me doing nothing and demand to see my notes… now, I never write notes, it's just too much of a hassle to write down something you remember… so I had to stop writing at school *sniff* but I can still write at home (after everything's done there's plenty of time at the moment since I don't have to give lectures/do projects/prepare exposés…)… well, so I just sit down at my darling Laptop (called Jerry, don't ask me why) and type something up… _

_Yasai: *pathetic whimper* _

_And it ends up another whole chapter of RtK! _

_Yasai: *Half-dead image of pitiful little muse whimpering to get her happy author's attention* _

_So enjoy reading! _

_Yasai: *unconscious*_

* * *

_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, it's characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

* * *

******Chapter 5 **

**Scoundrel **

The baths- the only place the hunt for Battousai had spared as of yet. To the King, this was an impossible oversight on the part of his men. To the soldiers, it was simply unimaginable that someone as clever as the elusive demon would hide himself in a steaming bathtub of all places, especially since they all had used the facilities early this morning. King Kamiya, as usual, was not to be deterred; if nobody wanted to check the baths then he would do it personally. He had been awoken rather abruptly this morning and consequently was a little short-fused on his temper, thus the argument between him and the men had arisen. 

Storming into the secluded bathing area with its five big tubs full of steaming hot spring water King Kamiya was in now way prepared for what awaited him. At best, the baths could have been deserted. At worst, there would have been a few soldiers jesting and jeering about their women as they soaked in the water. However, the poor King's logic was proven faulty when he barged in. 

There was, once again, that Adauchi Akai, leaning back against the edge of the tub, the muscles of his arms, though covered by skin varying from green to violet to white in color rippling as he sank deeper into the liquid, his long red hair splayed out on the floor behind him like a burning peacock's tail going out in a blaze of glory, the eyes closed, face relaxed... he looked every part like a painter's model posing for the perfect picture of sweet serenity. He didn't seem to even care about the commotion the King had caused- and the King couldn't help but blush when he saw him, hidden from view by the wafts of white vapor rising up from the tub, completely at ease with the world. King Kamiya had seen men bathing before- but they had always had that brute, savage touch to them, not the gentle feeling of peace that donzel exuded. How could she ever have mistaken that one for the Battousai? He was... angelic. For some reason or the other, the king felt as though this was the first time he laid eyes on a man bathing. 

"Umm... sorry," he murmured, blushing an even deeper shade of red- fortunately, the flush of color in his cheeks could be accredited to the heat in the baths. Almost lazily, the donzel's head turned, eyes still closed, his cheeks shadowed by lashes dripping with condensed vapor, clinging to the skin underneath. A drop of water- or sweat, the King thought, desperately trying to tear his eyes away from the offending little liquid oval- rolled down his neck to join its companions in the water. Slowly, his head was lifted up to be able to look into the eyes of the King. 

King Kamiya felt electricity course through him when the donzel's gaze met his. Akai's eyes were so light a violet in color they almost seemed... tinged golden with the flickering mix of daylight and torches burning in their holders on the walls. Could he be...? Even though he had just...? No, it just couldn't be. A fleeting image of a shadowed path in the woods flitted across the King's thoughts, but when he turned back to reality there were only the deep, delft blue eyes of Adauchi Akai staring at him from down where he sat in the _furo_. Pools of delft blue that were slightly widened as he recognized the King, contrasting sharply with the- red that rose up in his face? No, that wasn't possible, the donzel wouldn't blush, he was too impassive for that... but then, his liege had walked in on him in the bath- and had even apologized for it! 

"No offence taken, Kamiya-sama," Akai stuttered, his face rivaling a ripe tomato in hue. He was struggling to keep his dignity intact while at the same time showing his proper respect to his King... or perhaps not, since he made no move to get up. The King snorted. 

"Well, it seems the Battousai isn't hiding in here... if Akai hasn't hidden him under his body. We can as well leave!" The way he spoke didn't leave any doubt as to the nature of that suggestion, and the soldiers consequently took it as the order it was meant to be. Throwing one last look at the now-tensed man- nobody could mistake Adauchi Akai for a mere boy when he wasn't clothed- the King stomped out of the baths behind them, muttering one last sentence about 'insolent donzels and their antics' before quiet once again prevailed. 

Battousai slid so deep into the water that only his face from the tip of his nose upward remained visible. He shivered in the hot water, his eyes turning a glowing amber tinged with hints of the deep blue hue they sported when he was calm in reaction to the images of a very flushed and very flustered young woman named Kamiya, who had looked quite sweet when she... wait a minute, he had wanted to make the King fall in love with him, not fall for her himself! Mentally slapping himself he decided he'd had about enough from bathing, his aches had somehow miraculously dimmed in comparison to the images his mind conjured up whenever he thought of himself, a bath and the 'King' in one sentence. 

You truly are the idiot _he_ makes you out to be if you continue on this path, he reminded himself while toweling off with one of the rough stripes of torn linen, hastily washed and dried, that served as adequate towels since the amount of laundry from so many people was too staggeringly high to allow for anything else. 

He was clad in a clean dark green, black-rimmed shirt whose Chinese collar was slightly wettened by his long hair that, even though he had tried to be careful, had become so wet he had decided to wash it anyways. Currently, it was a curtain of damp auburn strands curling around his shoulder blades and down his spine, leaving a tingling of dripping wetness in its wake. His simple, black gi pants were just slightly too long for him since the standard sizes the castle issued simply didn't fit him, and just slightly too wide in the waist so he had to tightly bind them with a piece of dark green cloth he had ripped from one of the countless clotheslines in the laundry courtyard. At least the boots fit- and since when had he given so much thoughts to how his outfit looked? Scowling, he slung the useful dark green cloak around his shoulders, pulling up the hood to hide eyes that were a swirling mix of stark cobalt blue and warm, sunny gold- they would have been too much of a dead giveaway. 

Frowning, he stood in the corridor in front of the baths, his toes curling uncomfortably against the wood of his sandals when he thought of his duties this morning. He had to watch Hiruma Gohei's quarters again. I think I'm beginning to understand why _he_ took to drinking saké... its times like this when you start wishing you were real drunk he thought wistfully as his brisk, measured steps carried him through the dim hallways of Dunkelland Castle. A hunting party to escape from, a homicidal King to romance, and a fat, bureaucratic idiot to protect. What else can go wrong? Obviously, Battousai aka Akai the donzel had forgotten about Murphy's law- even though Murphy hadn't even been born then his law had already been in effect. And whatever else could go wrong... 

"Adauchi Akai again?" That was the sharp-faced assistant of Hiruma, his narrow black eyes peering at Akai from underneath his messy, short bangs. "I thought I had ordered another... well, if they sent you then there's no help- you'll simply have to make do as a waiter for Hiruma-san's visitors. Please stand by the doors inside his office." That meant no slacking off, dozing, or leaning against the walls. Just the right time for his luck to prove that what could go wrong... 

...did go wrong. Hiruma was the usual picture of incompetence, only slightly sugarcoated by the clever injections of his assistant who, by all means, looked downright murderous whenever Battousai made as much as the slightest movement. He would have used his black ponytail to stab the donzel had this been in any way possible. Akai was careful not to breathe in the wrong way- he was a little edgy that day, a little sore, a little insecure about what he would do since he still had no idea how to convince an eighteen-year-old thinks-of-herself-as-a-man that she was a girl. The first step, he thought, was to make her aware of her body's reactions, to make her realize she simply didn't do what a man would do in certain situations. 

In his own training, while learning the art of the sword, the first thing he had to get to know was his body. How his limbs would move under certain circumstances, how his heart would beat, the way sinews, muscles and bones worked together to create lightning-fast movements. He had been so clumsy at first, always moving too much, too far, slowing himself down because simple efficiency of movement had been a goal unattainable. 

He _had_ managed to control his body after a while, and he had become so intensely familiar with it that he didn't even have to listen to it to know its reactions. From himself, then, this knowledge had expanded to others, to the ability to predict his opponent's movements by reading the ones made before, second-guessing their intentions with almost supernatural accuracy. 

Now if only he could second-guess _her_... 

"Akai! You're to get some water for the dignitaries! Don't you ever listen, boy?" That assistant was powerful- his strike hurt, but perhaps it was only the bruises that made him more vulnerable... amber ice in his soul, fought down by all means, he bowed and went to get the order. The assistant's watchful eyes bore into his back, making him feel open, readable, despite the dampening control he exerted over his emotions, control that should be enough to even mask his _kenki_. 

"I'll go get it," he muttered, careful to keep his face shadowed. The assistant's clipped, precise speech whose every word was edged like a freshly minted coin suggested that he would not be as easy to fool as the rest of the castle. He was a hunter, a true hunter, not a would-be-but-too-gentle tracker like the King. 

"I'd do so quickly, boy. Otherwise you'll have Shishio Makoto to answer to. And I'm neither as lenient nor as foolish as Hiruma Gohei..." The threat was barely veiled, and Battousai couldn't suppress the feeling that man had him figured out. But then why would he keep quiet about the true identity of 'Akai the donzel'? 

"I will." He left his words hanging in the room while going, careful not to let his guard slip even in the slightest, to make his steps self-assured but without the overwhelming presence he would be had he let go, to fetch what he was told to. It wasn't far to the next indoor well, a small niche in the thick castle walls, looking like a torchlit bench made out of oily, black schist, not very inviting to couples looking for a romantic setting to their rendezvous but perhaps adequate for those seeking only solitude and refuge. Grimacing slightly he pushed the heavy stone plate aside, the jarring scraping accompanied by the merry tinkling of the chain attached to it on the one side and to an old and creased leather bucket on the other side. Quickly lowering the bucket into the black maw swallowing all the light the torch offered and not giving anything back, he let the rusty chain slip through his fingers, each link like a step towards an unknown future as it scraped against the calluses on the back of each digit. 

So fitting, he thought, that chain and bucket don't know what they will meet yet they are forced forward by a driving force they cannot resist… what did that Shishio mean, I would be answering to him? Focus! his face settled into a fierce scowl he retrieved the vessel full of sloshing cool, clear water, pouring it into the sparkling crystal carafe he had brought with him before making his way back to Hiruma's state chamber. 

What did he mean by telling me I would have him to answer to? I didn't take Hiruma Gohei's assistant for a fool. He might know who I am- but then he would also know that I'm not susceptible to blackmail. He must have something else in mind... but what? 

The water in the crystal carafe perched precariously on a silver tablet made soft, clinking sounds as droplets of water sloshed against their confines, eager to break out but held in check by the high translucent walls of their prison. The abyss stares back at you if you stare down it... perhaps it is simply some similarity I have sensed between that man and myself. That might be it... because I can't imagine there would be a conspiracy going on within the castle walls involving Hiruma and his assistant while they are under the direct scrutiny of the chief investigator... 

Self-deprecation was not in his nature, in spite of this the donzel bowed deeply entering the room the conference was held in and placing his load on the pompous mahogany table occupying most of it. Heads swiveled towards the small, cloaked and hooded figure but disinterest prevailed after Hiruma dismissed him with a flick of his pudgy wrist, showing off the twisted and crooked thumb of his right hand, broken and wrongly mended, yet bearing a jewel-studded ring that drew the eyes to the gnarled digit with its overbearing sparkling. Softly sighing to himself, the young man clamped down even tighter on his _ki_. Hiruma's casual arrogance, the way he didn't even _think_ about danger, irritated him to no end. Add to this the silent presence in the corner of the room, and you had one Battousai coiled up tighter than a steel spring used to puffer coaches from the holes and stones in the road. He had to be even more careful not to give himself away as he stalked stiffly back towards the large decoration-only bookshelf, standing next to the entrance to the conference chamber and housing a staggering amount of books assorted according to the color of their backs. Leaning his back against it, eyes closed, the donzel resigned himself to another few hours of listening to the droning voices of old men who didn't even know what they were talking about and were more interested in sharing the best menu suggestions and recipes for guinea fowl steeped in juniper sauce. 

However, his silent musings and the comfortable feeling of polished wood against his back and delicious, dusty parchment in his nostrils were interrupted by Himura Gohei's assistant demanding the donzel leave the chamber since he was not permitted knowledge of state secrets. Hiruma acquiesced with a wobbling nod that made Battousai wonder why his head had not yet lost grip of his neck amidst the layers of lard that encased them both, and Battousai was free to leave. 

"Go and train, boy," Shishio instructed his turned back with a glint in his eyes that spoke of malicious intentions. The donzel, certain in his knowledge that the assistant wouldn't dare to try anything in the presence of his employer, bowed exaggeratedly. 

"As you wish..." He omitted any address and left before Shishio could retort. 

*~* 

King Kamiya had held twenty-five receptions so far, all of which were a great success among his advisors and a great drama to watch for any spectators, of which there were as many as the great Reception Hall of Dunkelland Castle could hold since it was the first time _King_ Kamiya delivered justice to those beneath him. True to Dunkelland tradition, sentences had in twenty-four out of twenty-five cases been a personal tragedy for those seeking the King's wisdom. According to the teachings of the late King Koshijirou, it did society no good should perpetrators of law ever be turned lose again, thus the number of crimes warranting- in the King's eyes- life-long imprisonment or a death sentence had been increased considerably. His son, not at all comfortable with killing someone for just trespassing on royal property with what he perceived as his own hands- he _had to sign the verdicts, after all- had tried to persuade his father to let these 'criminals' go, if only once. _

"But son, they _have_ violated the law. I cannot tolerate this. Remember, a King is to be strict and hard. You have to say what the Law says. But _you_ have to smile when you say it, partner." A smile had touched his lips at these words, curling around the downcast corners of his mouth like a poisonous snake preparing to strike, and Kamiya had signed every single verdict in record time just to get out of reach of that smile since it promised unpleasant... encounters. Since then, young Kamiya had never believed in clemency anymore. 

It was a mother, crying and begging for the life of her oldest child, a son a few scant months King Kamiya's senior, that returned him to reality. Carefully studying the brief on that son, something he hadn't even bothered doing in the past twenty-four cases, the King eyed the groveling creature at his feet, his toes reflexively recoiling in disgust and fear that her filth might touch him. She was plump, her abdomen and breasts inflated from years of hard housework on a diet of gruel and watery vegetable soup- even though the King knew nothing about peasant's diets he had heard what they consisted of- and one child too many, her face leathery and hardened from the merciless curing of the sun on the fields, her hands gnarled into claws from curling around the handles of the tools of her trade. She was ugly, King Kamiya thought, so unlike the angelic portraits of his ancestors hanging in the castle's shrines. But her eyes held a certain beauty to them, bloodshot and tear-filled as they might be, they shone with an inner strength the King couldn't help but admire and wonder if it was in his eyes as well. She was frightened beyond belief, not because she might lose her life or spend it in prison, but because her child, her only son, faced that very fate. 

I wonder what it would be like to have children... the King thought, and immediately brushed the thought aside. He was still very young, only eighteen years of age, and not a single female in the whole country had ever caught the eye of the striking young man for more than a few seconds. His father had meant for him to marry much, much later, he knew that, and he had every intention of sticking to his father's wishes as long as he could do so. 

"Please... he only wanted to help me... he saw we were hungry, his sisters, they were dying... he couldn't help but join these bandits... please, take my life for his, I will die for him, but save my son, my King, my Lord, please, save my son!" She flung herself forward, her parched and rough lips intending to touch his expensive soft leather shoes, and he lashed out with his foot in disgust, sending the woman sprawling on the floor a few feet from the throne he was sitting on. She flinched and cried out in pain, her eyes widening and unfocusing for a second, but never once leaving his face. 

"Please..." she sobbed brokenly. King Kamiya scowled, but looked at the thick roll of paper in his hands again. The boy was nineteen years old, a thug, scoundrel... caught in the company of notorious bandits, but he had not yet been involved in any of their misdeeds. Technically, the law permitted the King to punish even association with subversive elements by death, but in this case... 

"Tell her to leave me alone, and bring me the son," he ordered. The woman immediately degenerated into a blubbering mass of gratitude on the floor, kissing the ground and praising the mercy King Kamiya showed his subjects. Fact was, the King was only bored beyond belief, and from what he had read this scoundrel might be an interesting diversion for him, a natural-born troublemaker. 

"Oi! What do you think you're doing? Get your filthy pranks off me! I- argh! I am the great- urgh! I told you to get _off_!" The struggle on the outside of the heavy brass doors was loud enough to attract the attention of even the last snoring old man in the back rows of the reception hall. The King's blue eyes blazed like storm clouds being hit with lightning, and he sharply ordered three guards to investigate the commotion. Just as he sent them outside, however, the doors flew open with a bang, and two struggling men hauling a young, brown-haired male individual, obviously knocked out cold, into the room and down the aisle. Dumping their load at the foot of the King's throne, making sure that he would bang his head on the unrelenting stone tiles forming the black and white, star-shaped mosaic of the floor they stood, panting and saluting their liege with as much dignity as they could in their disheveled state. 

"What is this?" King Kamiya asked, his commanding voice even sharper than his gaze, his fists clenched in the soft, red velvet of his throne's armrests. 

"This is the requested felon, Kamiya-sama," one of the soldiers stated between two deep breaths, inconspicuously fingering the swelling around his right eye. He would have a nice black bruise there in a few more minutes, he concluded from the stinging his careful touches brought him. He grimaced at the thought. Just when he had planned to take that little kitchen maid out on a date tonight... well, perhaps he could somehow write that one marring of his handsomeness off to a fierce battle against a very... dangerous... 

"_This_ is your son?" the King queried, looking at the evaporating puddle of tears where a minute ago there had been the woman crying for her son. Said woman was all over the heap of dirty clothing and long limbs sprawled across the King's precious stone floor. The boy in question groaned from the back of his throat, deep pools of molasses blinking disorientedly at the sea of legs and dirt-covered shoes that were the sitting prospectors from his point of view. His rather bushy hair, carelessly chopped off so that it stood up in clumps and spikes, seemed to have been brown once, but during his time in prison and because he had been dumped onto the not exactly spotless floor the way he had been it had acquired a coating that lent it the stark gray color of elephant skin. Rubbing his head he sat up, pushing his mother off his uncooperative body in the process and apparently only now realizing his surroundings. 

"Oi! Aren't you the King? And what's my mother doing here?" He rubbed the back of his head, scowling as his palms encountered two or three lumps obtained during his earlier struggles and his encounters with hard surfaces, trying to make sense of what had happened. There had been the soldiers, telling him he was to receive his sentence... he had, of course, not intended to go out without a fight, his time with the bandits, short as it might have been, having taught him that he who fights the soldiers and successfully disables them lives to see another day. There had been too many of them, however, a seemingly endless supply of similarly dressed fools streaming out from wherever they were bred and kept, and he had distinctly remembered being thrown against one sharp arris of a quadrangular pillar. His head had not taken to that kindly, thus his earlier disorientation and confusion... those bastards must've knocked him out! And now he was facing the almighty King of Dunkelland... 

"I am King Kamiya, as you have so cleverly stated. Your mother is here to get you out of my sight, scoundrel, hopefully forever. Now leave!" 

The young man sat dazedly, hand still raised behind his head, brown-gray hair flopping down into his eyes, his mother all over him, kissing and hitting him alternately. "Wait... I'm out of here? Well then, Your Royal Highness, until never!" 

"Wait!" the King's scribe stopped him before he could get himself and his mother off the floor, down the aisle and into sweet freedom. Murmuring something unrepeatable, the gangly young man, who was a good two feet taller than the diminutive and pudgy scribe waited, his back turned to the throne, the King and his court, causing murmurs to arise all over the hall. Nobody turned his back on the King after he had just pardoned him in a show of his great mercy was the general consent. 

"What is it?" The freed prisoner fingered the torn hem of his dirty shirt between his fingers, scowling in disgust when they came away all grimy. 

"You are not to leave the castle, according to your sentence. Listen. King Kamiya in all his merciful wisdom has decreed the following sentence: The person known under the name of Sagara Sanosuke, also known under the name of Zanza, shall be from now on until the day he dies a soldier in the service of our beloved country Dunkelland. Desertion is punishable by death. King Kamiya also reminds the person known as Sagara Sanosuke, that attempts at desertion will force our wise and gentle King to order the removal of his whole family from society in order to prevent any more individuals such as the aforementioned subject to come to life. Signed King Kamiya, Lord of Dunkelland, dated..." 

Shell-shocked, the young man stared at the imposing brass doors, so close to where he stood. His mother cried out in despair, her son being a soldier meaning the only really strong worker among their family being gone, she and her daughters left to starve or sell themselves. Shaking with irrepressible sobs, the strain overwhelmed her at last and she fainted, held up in the strong arms of her son. He lifted her up into a fierce embrace, her deceptively sturdy-looking body as frail as a bird's. Hell's fires burning in his eyes he faced the King, fists clenched into each other around the back of his poor mother, struggling to speak yet unable to do so because of rage constricting his throat and paralyzing his tongue. Finally, he threw the King and his court one last, very dark look before stalking off, carrying his mother with him. The soldiers followed him through the sea of murmurs like ghosts, feeling spooked as he parted and silenced it like Moses parting the Red Sea. Nobody dared to meet the furious gaze of Sagara Sanosuke, also known as Zanza, for fear of being burned to death. 

The King watched the scoundrel's departure with detached interest, chuckling slightly as the doors banged shut behind the tall man's back. This 'Zanza' would prove to be amusing to keep around, he surmised, and it would prove a challenge breaking him and making him his toy... or perhaps he should try that donzel first? The bath incident was promptly remembered, a reddish tinge coating the King's cheeks that he desperately tried to hide. Perhaps he should refrain from thinking of either of them and instead concentrating on handing out justice. 

"Next!" he ordered, the squeak in his voice being hopefully mistaken for boredom. Time for another fool to meet his fate. 

*~* 

Clad in the stiff, dark green and black uniform of a castle guard, his body clean, hair held back by a blood red bandanna he had chosen for convenience's sake Sanosuke leaned against the high walls of Dunkelland Castle, the merlon-crowned twin towers that guarded the gates just a stone's throw away. Calm and quiet, the land at his feet seemed to invite his gaze, to cleanse his soul of the desperate, burning hatred he felt at the mere thought of the vile creature residing under the same roof as he. King Kamiya... he had thought the previous King had been bad, the main reason for him to join the bandits being that the King's repression of his people had reached insufferable limits, limits that forced young girls to sell their bodies to any stranger they encountered in order not to starve to death, limits hat meant his for his family to suffer through a winter of freezing cold without a fire since he had declared the woods off-limits to peasants who might disturb his prey, limits that meant each and every person could be taken prisoner at any time, interrogated by the legendary cruel chief investigator and not be released ever. Sanosuke had not been able to endure these limits, his father being taken prisoner at the accusation of having seen and hidden the man the King was obsessed with, Battousai, being the last spark needed to ignite the fire of rebellion in his heart. 

Rebellion lost to cold, lost to the army of Dunkelland, lost to the treachery among his people, lost to King Koshijirou and his son, King Kamiya. Sanosuke had been throw into prison, the rest of the 'bandits'- they called themselves freedom fighters, robbing the tax wagons carrying the crops the farmers had grown in tedious work to the castle to feed the King and the nobles, to keep warm and satisfied their fat, ugly ladies, to keep in good spirits their lazy soldiers while the population hungered, froze, died- slain and left for the crows to feed on. 

"It's a harsh reality, but you punching holes into the stone won't make it better, Sagara Sanosuke aka Zanza," a cool voice announced uninvitedly. Sano started, whirling around ready to defend himself- and coming face to face with a slip of a boy, not unlike the King, clad in a dark green cloak like his own, only that this person had his hood up to cover his face and hair. 

"And you are?" The boy brushed his hood back, shining red hair almost blinding in its shade meeting Sano's eyes a split second before golden eyes stared him down. The taller man sucked in a sharp breath. 

"You are..." A move so quick Sanosuke couldn't even see it placed the redhead's finger on his lips. 

"My name is Adauchi Akai," he stated evenly. Sano only stared. "We are being watched," 'Akai' added. Dumbfounded, Sanosuke nodded. 

"Call me Sano. And who is watching us?" 

... to be continued ... 

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_*grins* I swear I don't know why these chapters keep getting longer and longer... it takes longer to type up longer chapters,after all... and I am truly sorry I cant keep them nice, short and quickly coming. However, while writing this chapter I stumbled across some funny facts... to be honest, I was so bored during English class I started reading my dictionary... earned me weird looks from just about everyone, from my teacher to the rest of my course... anyways, here's what I found *smiles*:_

**_Self-floccinaucinihilipilification _**_is a synonym for self-deprecation... and it is an honest-to-god English word! I just about exploded laughin when I read it... especially the 'pili' part... _

**_'Smile when you say it, partner_**_' does, contrary to common belief, not come from the various cowboy movies that employ the line. The saying has been coined by Owen Wister in The Virginian as 'When you say that, smile.' Wonder what difference the victim being sentenced to death should see when the verdict is delivered by a smiling judge instead of a scowling one... _

_Okay, now that Chibi's weird facts of the week ™ have been established we can move on, right? So here's the_

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**Reviewer's corner **

_**Zeh Wulf**: Wow, thank you! I hope you liked this chapter as well... it's not as intense as the last one, so... *shrugs* I think I will enjoy school... it's the final year. At the moment, everything's quiet, but once the panic starts it's fun to watch *snickers* _

_**Leigh4**: You are voicing my very thoughts... poor Kaoru needs help. Thank you for your encouragment and here you are with the continuation!_

_**MP1**: The bath mystery has been solved... *grins* and more introspectiveness coming up soon *grins*_

_**Natsuko**: Not much romance in this one, I fear... needed to establish a few more things... So you do assignments while at school as well? *phew* I always thought I was weird because of that! _

_**:)**: I am actually quite fond of Saito, believe it or not. Nothing against an extremely cynical, slightly arrogant man! He makes a great partner in a discussion!_

_**Liquid Fire**: Like B/K as well. Here's your update!_

_**Darkening**: I sleep very little (around four hours a night is enough)... and I don't exactly know how I manage school. You know my skipping grades has more to do with a nomadic lifestyle than with intelligence! Are you still playing the trumpet? Just asking because I accompany Ry on the piano this weekend... he's playing Telemann._

_**lucia**: How Battousai got into Dunkelland Castle will remain a mystery for at least another chapter... but I hope you'll still continue reading. _

_**all**: I'm extremely sorry I have to keep the responses so short this time, but I've slightly strained my wrist when practising the piano (Waldstein Sonata) and have to hold still for a day or two so it won't get worse. Hope you still liked the latest installment of RtK and tell me what to do better in a nice little review!_

_Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	6. Threat

_Ciao!!!_

_*grins* One extra-long chapter of RtK coming up… sorry it's a little late, but I didn't have access to the net yesterday. Hope you like it- there's a sign of a plot in here! _

_Yasai: All right, hope you like it! _

_Enjoy the story! _

* * *

_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 6 **

****

**Threat **

Kenshin looked at Sano with a face that told the newly recruited soldier of the army of Dunkelland he had just done something incredibly stupid. Declaring towards unseen watchers that they had been found out was _not what common tactical sense dictated. The golden-eyed man had spoken in tones that were so low they only carried to Sano's ears, but the deep Baritone rumbles the tall man sported were not exactly clandestine. Too late he realized that, clapping a hand over his mouth in an almost comical gesture of shock. Sighing, the donzel pulled the hood of his cloak back over his shining red hair. _

"You can come out, whoever you are," he said, the sharp tones to his voice befitting the assassin but not the young boy he pretended to be. Twenty feet away, another man clad in the garb of the palace guard detached himself from the wall, walking unhurriedly over to the two younger men leaning against the merlons. Down below on the training field a whole troupe of the castle's soldiers worked at building some kind of maze, something Battousai noticed with detached interest. 

"Sadojima Hoji," the man coming over to them introduced himself. The angles and planes of his face wee so sharp they almost seemed unnatural, his leek, black hair gelled back to enhance the features that looked as though they belonged to a mathematician rather than a man living within the castle walls and serving King Kamiya. 

"Sadojima Hoji," Sano spat, ignoring the hand the other man held out to him, "I know you. You are that snooper who got me into this mess, infiltrating the Sekihoutai in the name of that Minister of the Interior, what's-his-name, ah, Hiruma!" 

"Sadojima Hoji. You work with Shishio Makoto, don't you?" A steadying hand on Sano's shoulder held the snarling young man back, the nineteen-year-old's strength not enough to break the iron grip of the smaller man barring him from lunging at the slick character in front of them. 

"Shishio? Oh, yes… he is the one whom I mostly work for. He is very bright, wouldn't you say so, Sagara Sanosuke? It was his idea to check whether the infamous Sekihoutai were posing as a group of militia aiding our government in controlling the remoter provinces… and he was quite right, wasn't he?" Sano gritted his teeth, a low growl tearing itself from his throat as his muscles bunched under Battousai's hand. The assassin felt he could not hold him back any longer if the taunts continued, but he didn't want the young man to die. He still had to find out why and how Sanosuke knew who he was. 

"What do you want, Sadojima? Why have you been following Sanosuke?" Deliberately, he exposed himself to the searing analysis of Shishio's subordinate, his hooded features indistinguishable. 

"Whoever said I was following the Sekihoutai boy?" Hoji smiled cruelly. "Shishio has his sights set on you, Adauchi Akai." The donzel snorted. 

"I am a mere trainee under Saito Hajime, that's all that I am. What would Shishio want with me?" His heart was hammering in his chest, the cooling breeze that ruffled the flags hanging from the towers, flapping and twisting their bright golden-red cloth not managing to cool his face sufficiently to get rid of the cold sweat on his brow. Even though he had faced King Kamiya himself in a more dangerous situation it was this man's calculating mind that sent shivers down Battousai's spine. If there was one who could and would discover him, this Hoji was the one. 

"A mere trainee under Saito, yes…" Hoji let his words trail off before suddenly turning. "I suggest you don't let go of that young idiot until I'm gone- I wouldn't want you to face painful interrogation for causing the death of an employee of the Ministry of the Interior. Who knows what secrets one such as you might spill!" 

The breeze aided Hoji's dramatic exit by picking up speed just as he vanished down an open staircase, the dark brown velvet cape the man wore billowing in sharp competition to the flags, the combined rustling of both temporarily loud enough to be painful to the donzel's ears. Grimacing, he let go of Sanosuke, the young man's enraged punch following subsequently being expertly dodged. Actually, it was more of a barrage of punches Sanosuke rained upon the only available target, blind in his grief and anger. 

"Sanosuke!" Battousai had let the last punch come too close, his hood swept away in the winds rushing past his left ear. Moving with the speed that had made him famous he pinned the younger man's arms to his sides, grunting with the effort it took him since Sanosuke wasn't only taller, but also more heavily built and stronger when it came to brute muscle strength. High above the ground the two struggling figures moved back and forth, insignificantly small ants when watched from down below, titans when seen from just a few feet away. 

His muscles straining to the breaking point Sano grunted when he was bodily slammed into the wall. He couldn't understand how that small man could manhandle him like that, sure, he was _the legend_ his commander in the Sekihoutai had told stories about, but Sano knew he was no pansy, and should have been able to handle that guy easily, hell, his face was one great bruise, and he guessed his body was not looking much better. And yet here was Sano, being thrown against the rough, scratching outer wall of Dunkelland Castle like a wet rag by the hands of a man a foot less in height and less obviously muscled. 

What the young man didn't know was that his opponent was nearing his breaking point, and fast. In spite of the difference in strength Battousai had managed to hold his own because of his knowledge about the manipulation and use of _ki_. But even his mental energy was slowly losing the battle against Sanosuke's determination, and though he wanted to try and manipulate the other to stop his assault he couldn't- not without an extreme action on his part that would jar the Sekihoutai back to reality. Mustering his strength he slammed the taller man into the wall a second time, watching as his eyes unfocused slightly with the force of the impact, his lanky form doubling over before he coughingly spat out a little blood. Loosening his grip Battousai stepped back, his chest heaving underneath the dark woolen cloak, hood tumbling down his back as it had been pulled free in the frantic struggle, his face flushed from exertion and the cold sweat on his brow long since replaced with the mark of heavy work. Studying the now-still form out of calculating cobalt-golden eyes he nodded before offering the man a hand after having ascertained that there were no unwelcome listeners anywhere close. 

Looking up from where he had slipped down along the wall Sano gripped the hand offered to him, the will to fight that 'Akai' gone when the hard impact had beat into his skull what and where he was, and who he was facing especially. For a moment there he had replaced the slight figure of the redhead with that of King Kamiya, those golden eyes with ones like the deep blue Sea, laughing at him with malicious delight, taunting him to kill him. He pulled himself to his feet with the help of the hand that was offered, gripping the bony, slender fingers tightly. Though panting slightly, his opponent stood there in silence, watching him as he leaned with his hands on his knees to dispel the last residues of dizziness a castle wall was likely to instill in a head meeting it even though it was not of great beauty. Sano uprighted himself, chest on fire, he only now realized exactly how much strength he had used. 

"What are you?" Sanosuke coughed, his throat still slightly raw from his ragged breathing. His uniform was ruffled, and he looked every piece the disrespectable bandit he had been when with the Sekihoutai. 

"I am a donzel in Dunkelland Castle," the donzel answered tonelessly, looking nothing worse for wear (in comparison to his already less-than-ideal-state before their fight) except for the loss of his cloak's hood now. His breath had calmed already, and the flush to his face was lost to the dark discoloring bruises on his cheeks. He had understood Sanosuke's question, but he didn't want to answer it. He didn't want to say what he was, what he knew he was. A murderer. An idealist. A killer, a cold-blooded phantom riding on the wind and the tongues of people telling stories about him. 

"The how did you manage to hold me back?" Sanosuke's sharp gaze bored into Akai's eyes, the cobalt in them replaced by pure, shining gold reflecting the outside world and not letting anything of the inside out. A mirror, but not a mirror to the soul. Sano was met head on by it, still nothing was revealed. 

"_Ki_." Akai was not a friend of many words. If a single word managed to get the information across, why bother to use more? It lessened the danger of anyone getting too close. 

"_Ki_? Crap. Commander Sagara was right then. Can you really do that neat trick, snap twigs and such?" Sanosuke pulled a small twig from his pocket, shoving it into the right corner of his mouth. "It was what he told us, Commander Sagara, that is. Always said: that guy, you know, he's _good. When you can snap these tiles and not touch them you are like him. We all trained like madmen to do that…" A bitter smile played around the twig that was shredded between strong white teeth. Slowly, molten gold released chestnut brown from its enigmatic spell. _

"So your commander was a collector of the stories about Battousai?" Sanosuke's smile had found its companion piece in the slight twitch of lips. 

"Not only. He… had seen him… you… in action. When you killed that Kiyosato Akira. He was hiding behind the shutters of my father's house, looking what the commotion on the street was all about. When he saw the demon with the blood-red hair and glowing eyes he knew there was a chance. That was when the Sekihoutai was founded." 

Eyes closed, the donzel remembered the lightless night, three men, one of them the corrupt governor he was about to permanently remove from office. Five strokes of his sword, a messy job, he hadn't been able to keep the blood off of him as the wind was strong. One of the men had been strong, he had had to use some of his more advanced moves, which might be why the man called Sagara had seen him using _ki_. And then there had been the single sliver of light, a beacon guiding him towards the windows of a farm house, small and derelict, but sturdily built and easily renovated if someone had the time and the money. 

"I remember," he said, blinking to disperse the last traces of an amaranth memory. Control as familiar as the weight and balance of a sword at his side settled in, the icy rage banned into a corner of his heart again, his cobalt blue gaze facing the clear sky in a gesture meant to defy himself. 

"I thought you were bigger, to be honest," Sano leaned back against the merlons, the tails of the bandanna he wore to keep his hair back fluttering around his head. "I mean, what about the ten-foot-tall demon who strikes from the woods? I almost didn't recognize you… Commander Sagara had always said: there's one thing that tells you it's Battousai, and that's those eyes. When you seen the golden eyes then run." 

"Run? I guess they told that in the stories…" He peeled a bandage off his left cheek, slowly, so as not to rupture the bruised skin underneath, revealing a long, angry slash mark running all across his face from the temple to the edge of his chin, partially hidden underneath his other bruises, but there. When the sun broke through the low-hanging clouds for a moment the scar glowed red, the light catching in the deep trough gouged into his flesh. Sano couldn't help but wonder how the untouchable phantom had gotten that wound. One slender hand trailed along it, leaving a haunted shadow in its wake before Battousai hid his face, the unfathomable eyes underneath the concealing hood again, the hand holding the bandage roughly slapping it on again. 

"Anyways, why are you here? I guess ya know why I'm here, but you? Shouldn't you be out there killing the corrupt and greedy?" Offhanded though as this remark might have been, it was easy sensing the deeper meaning inside, and Battousai was an expert at delving into the minds of others. 

"I have my reasons," was the cold answer to Sano's unspoken question. His defenses were in full effect again, he could not just yet let anyone see through him. His emotional control clamped down so hard it was as though in icy fist caught his heart and held it. 

"Reasons, eh? I bet it has nothing to do with King Kamiya, does it?" Most people mistook Sano for less than intelligent because of his peasant dialect and street-smart behavior, but as long as he didn't have to find directions or steer any of these dangerous modern contraptions that were starting their his mind was as sharp and clear as a shard of crystal. Battousai had killed the King's father- it stood to reckon he would have plans for Kamiya as well. The pad of his right thumb tracing the sewing lines on the fabric of his uniform Sano tried to catch the other's gaze again, but failed to do so since 'Akai' had tuned to look over the land. Standing beside him, the young forced recruit felt uneasy yet calmed at the same time. There was one person who would be able to change his family's destiny for the better it was this man- the one his uncle had reverently spoken of, the one who had rid them of King Koshijirou. 

"Adauchi Akai? Sagara Sanosuke? I have been looking for you all over the place. King Kamiya has ordered you as his guards for the afternoon. Ah, at least our new one is already dressed!" It was one of the other donzels, his small, boyish face flushed with exertion as he pulled himself across the last few feet towards the two men standing there at ease, for all the world to see if it only looked. He was even smaller than Battousai, Sano noticed with an amused grin spreading around his lazy eyes, but much stockier of build, solid like a boulder. His feathery, black hair clung to his skull like a second skin, sweaty as it was. And his brandy brown eyes… they looked resigned. Apparently he had had to look for 'Akai' already more than once. 

"Oh, it's you, Satoshi. We were just coming down, so why don't you go ahead?" Sano couldn't believe it. Mr. Antisocial, the withdrawn Battousai he had just tried to speak to had turned into a shy, humble young man in the blink of an eye, associating with his fellow trainees as though there were not a single difference between them. Even his eyes had changed. Sharp and calculating still, they now radiated a certain warmth from the depths of deep, dark blue. Baffled, he watched as Satoshi turned on his heels, and almost missed the inviting gesture Battousai made with his left hand, telling Sano to come along. Only a short blaze of angry and impatient gold woke him from his consternation, and he hurried behind the two smaller figures, drawing his hood up in the process just as they did. 

*~* 

Tanzanite- the stone whose blue luster made even sapphires pale in comparison to it. And yet even that stone couldn't hold its own against the young King's eyes as he looked into the mirror. A fleeting thought grazing his mind caused the blue pools to widen, reflecting the picture of their master back at him with perfect clarity. Liking my eyes? What are you thinking, Kamiya! His mirror didn't answer, the young King feeling once again the loneliness of his position. He couldn't seek refuge in the equal solitude of the woods again- it was late in the afternoon, the wind had already changed direction and was blowing from the East, promising storms and rain that night. Even though his father had chided him for it, telling him a man feared neither weather King Kamiya hated and abhorred lightning and thunder with a vengeance, and to be caught outside during such conditions was not something he liberally sought after. 

A knock on the door disturbed the King, and quickly fastening the brooch that held his cape together he called out to his servant to let the arrivals in. Pleasantly fast scurrying of feet in soft slippers made of cloth and the pliant substance _gummi arabicum_ found on some trees in the very South of Dunkelland, close to the warm Southern Sea was heard before the slightly rusty snap of his door's catch- the King made a mental notice to have the two on the afternoon shift oil it- preceded the whooshing sound of the twin doors opening. 

If he hadn't known it were three people entering his rooms the King would never have been able to find out from the sounds they made when entering. One man's footsteps were as solid as the rocks that made up the high mountains in the North, one man's self-assured and gripping the room tight in their grasp- and the third man's were inaudibly soft. Throwing his medium-length hair back over his shoulder the king held his chin up high in his customary arrogant and superior pose that conveyed to all his subjects he was so high above them they shouldn't even think of touching him, his hands working with practiced efficiency as they bound the pitch-black strands into a topknot, using a thin, leather ribbon as blue as the tunic he was wearing over deep brown pants. Finally thinking he had taken enough time to be fashionably and royally delayed in facing the shift change- for he was certain that the arrival of the three men could only mean that- King Kamiya left the security of his bedchamber and ventured into the salon he welcomed his most important guests in and changed the shift of his guards. 

"Leave," he commanded with a short nod towards two faceless, nameless cloaked soldiers that had been standing outside the doors of his quarters since early morning. "You, too." That was directed towards Satoshi, who bowed deeply and hastily retreated. That left him alone with his two new guards, the tall, spiky-haired bandit he had convicted to a life as a soldier this morning and the insolent little donzel brave and foolish enough to dare and try advise the king of Dunkelland. Two men he would enjoy toying with… the King frowned at the somersaults his stomach decided to pull off when thinking of 'toying' with Adauchi Akai. 

"You are my guards for the afternoon. You will accompany me wherever I go except when I say you stay. You will not question any of my orders," at that he specifically eyed Akai, "and you will not move unless you are told to do so when standing guard. Understood?" Two bows, both stiff, and less low than they should have been. That Akai seemed to be contagious- and the way his glinting eyes stared at him from the shadows… the King couldn't tolerate it. Tanzanite eyes blazing angrily Kamiya lashed out with his foot in a vicious roundhouse kick, catching both men under their chins, the resounding _thump_ as they landed on their respective backsides satisfying. 

"And you will show proper respect- or I will have to arrange for a lesson with Saito. Sanosuke, ask Akai what that means." The smaller man hesitantly touched his face, the understanding look in the deep chocolate eyes of the bandit almost amusing to watch. 

"If you have understood, follow." The King turned, pulling his cape around his shoulders in a flourish as he strode out of his chamber, "we will watch the evening training of the Palace Guard under Shinomori Aoshi." 

"Yes, Kamiya-sama." They were on their feet in less time than the King had expected them to take, ready to follow like two shadows protecting the back of their liege. Kamiya smiled a little smile that barely touched his eyes and went ahead, relishing the feeling that they would regret ever crossing his path before the evening was over. 

*~* 

The Palace Guard were good- no actually, they were _very good, bordering on excellent. On the training field obstructed with high walls, dead ends and lumber piles simulating the dangerous environment of the castle insides they were fighting each other as well as moving in synchronized moves together. Keeping his face stoic, his outward expression unchanged, Battousai watched from the safety of his concealing hood as they went through advanced maneuvers, repelling an invisible infiltrator, luring him into a corner before attacking all six together, taking the phantom enemy out with speed and precision requiring years of training and a natural talent. Six men, and one leader. The whole force seemed laughably small, but each of them was proficient in a variety of fighting style and deadly with many different weapons. Though they seemed to frown upon the use of projectile weapons, one of them especially could shoot an ant's eye out at a distance of fifty feet if need be. _

They all paled in comparison to their leader, though, as became evident when the six fought a mock battle against the one, using all methods and weapons available to them while he only had the twin short swords that seemed to be his preferred weapon. He was so high above their skill that Battousai involuntarily compared him to himself in comparison to his own master. He toyed with them, luring them into traps, and soundly defeating them one by one even as they struggled to keep together, to attack as a group. Their strategy was rendered useless by the flowing, watery movements of their commander who simply slipped through their fingers like the liquid, he couldn't be held, not even by the _kempo_ expert of the group who used the same style as the commander, though on a less proficient level. Their _ki_ blazed in the amber-eyed man's mind, fierce reds battling serene blue, calmness and ferocity paired in perfect unison. Their commander could take him on, he realized, and he wasn't even sure about the outcome of that fight. Shinomori Aoshi knew how to use his _ki_ to conceal himself as part of his surroundings, the same way Battousai could, and he was, unlike the assassin, trained in the ninja arts of stealth and camouflage. 

Quickly masking his _ki_ Battousai hid himself behind King Kamiya's shadow as the tall captain of the Palace Guard strode over to King Kamiya, having defeated all six of his men in record time even though they had been training and he was satisfied with their progress. Shinomori Aoshi was no slacker either, and his own training, centering on meditation and the infusion of _ki into his movements to make them harder to spot had proved more efficient than his men's concentration on gaining more strength. He bowed deeply, kneeling before King Kamiya as he fleetingly scanned his King's two guards, wondering about the strange pair but choosing not to comment, and waited for the King's signal before he rose to his feet again as fluently as he fought. _

"My King, I hope the progress of your Palace Guard has pleased you. Have you considered my request of sending us two recruits to train our new moves on?" Aoshi was in full control of his voice, Akai noticed with respect, managing to keep the icy tones pleasant and untraceable when it came to emotions. 

King Kamiya inclined her head, her soft, black hair spilling along her slender jaw, her eyes glinting with something Akai couldn't quite place since her _ki_ was a confusing mixture of pleasure and… something else, something darker, something he didn't like. When Kamiya turned to them, her eyes lightened in color with amusement, he knew what would come. 

"Go down and help them train. Shinomori has asked for two subjects he and his men can try a new tactic on. You seem to meet his requirements, right, Aoshi?" The captain nodded, choosing not to speak if it was not essential, a trait he shared with Battousai. King Kamiya was smiling gleefully. Not only had his guards proven to him once again that they were the strongest and most skilled men in all of Dunkelland, but he had also found some more entertainment. Sending Captain Aoshi these two troublemakers… well, they would regret ever looking at their King wrong. 

"Yes, Kamiya-sama," Akai didn't give the King the satisfaction of seeing him lose his cool, but the King had the feeling the donzel was… looking forward to fighting the palace guard? No, that couldn't be. And yet it wasn't only him- one glance at the brown-haired bandit revealed his hood to be pushed back, a grin on his face and his left hand's knuckles cracking in the iron grip of the opposite fist. Following the inviting wave of Shinomori Aoshi's hand he made his way down the stairs of the gallery the King was going to watch them from to the training field, his steps as calm and self-assured as though he were walking to church on a sunny Sunday morning. 

"If you manage to take out one or more of my men you will receive extra pay," the icy captain of the Palace Guard informed them as soon as they were standing in the middle of the maze of wooden walls and traps, knowing fully well King Kamiya was expecting a good show and willing to take any steps to ensure that he got it. "You are going to try to reach the King's chamber- the way to it is marked in red. We are going to defend him. Red dots are safe places. When you reach one we will have to go back to the other side of the maze. We start as soon as the King gives the signal." With that, the captain vanished into thin air. 

"Extra pay!" Sano was excited. His brown eyes sparkled as he thought about being able to send money to his family. 

The donzel gave Sano an encouraging smile. "Follow my lead," he said, turning into a panther, graceful and deadly, becoming one with the shadows on the ground as he stalked off, not into the hallway marked with a red arrow but into the one parallel to it. He had assessed the high wooden walls, and had concluded that they would be able to surmount them if they worked together. 

"All warfare is based on deception," he whispered, his voice deeper than before, colder, sending chills down his companion's spine. He seemed to be in his element, his slight figure pressed against the walls, almost invisible even from nearby. Sano tried to follow his example but found his larger frame harder to conceal, his steps too loud and lumbering when compared to the light treads of Akai.  
"Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near."  
Akai- no, Battousai recited lessons from The Art of War as though he was telling bedtime stories to a child, and Sano couldn't help but shake his head in wonder. How did that man's brain work? He could look so helpless, but put him into the right surroundings and even superior forces had to fear him. 

Akai crouched down low on the ground. Aoshi and his men knew how to use _ki_, which told him that the guys opposing them knew exactly where they were. Thus, hiding was out of the question. And therefore, they'd have to resort to cunning and strategy.  
He and Sano should give the impression of hiding, to lure their stalkers into a trap, as if they were acting like live bait. They should look like they were easy prey, which wasn't that difficult considering the situation they were in… and then use their small surprises, their own moves, on the hunters, whose arrogance and certainty in their superiority would make them fatally careless- he hoped. He wasn't sure as to their captain, who would most likely see through their plan, but perhaps it would be enough to take out the other six men, trapping them between Sanosuke and himself. As soon as the hunters discovered that they were caught in a trap themselves, their fury would act against them, turning them into easier targets, since anger and arrogance could lead even the most powerful warrior to defeat. He knew it firsthand, he thought, smirking. As long as Sano and he could keep focused, to distract and take them down immediately, should be easy. Battousai would savor his victory- while making it seem like a blunder. A wonderful plan… 

Shinomori Aoshi sent his six hunters out into the maze in groups of two. The donzel and the soldier had taken a parallel route to the King's chamber, as he had expected. They would try to climb over the wall at the last instant, and then storm the chamber. Bumbling fools they were… or were they? A sinking feeling in his stomach the captain stood at the last intersection before the enemy's final destination, the last obstruction before they would reach the King.

*~*

The red-brown eyes studied the deliberately slow and stupid moves the two men opposing the Palace Guard down on the training field made. The trick with the parallel hallways was just what was to be expected of a trainee under Saito, but that they stumbled upon the two Palace Guards concealed in a niche in front of them was almost too much luck. The conveniently snapping plank that took out the third man was the final giveaway, and the way the smaller of the two moved… that wasn't a donzel or a trainee.

"Hoji? Go and place the charge in the King's chamber. His Palace Guards are preoccupied at the moment. And be careful to do everything just as we have planned it!" He smiled, a predatory smile that rivalled even Saito's. "I've got you… Battousai!"

… to be continued …

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_*grins* I don't have any time at all... I should be atttending class right now, instead I have fled to the library to complete that stupid questionnaire (we may complete it anywhere we want) I have already completed *doublegrins* and therefor can upload RtK 6_

_Yasai: Bad little Chi! Runs around when she should stay off her feet as much as possible!_

_Hmph, my muse doesn't want me to have any fun! Anyways, what I want to say is that I can't do reviewer's corner right now (our librarian is looking suspiciously... uh-oh...) but I want to thank you all, **Zeh Wulf** for giving me weird humor I may only watch and not poke, **clear sunrise** in the hope you have been able to sleep more lately, **Saiyagirl** for reminding me why I write this story (to have fun!), **aoshi's girl** for encouraging me to write more, **Jensa **for giving me the biggest compliments, **Natsuko ** because she shares my weirdness and always brightens my days with her reviews! And I think that sons often look for elements of thei mothers in girlfriends/partners (*grins* it's Chi's field studies...)... I love Sano's mom, I think I'll have to use her again!_

_Yasai: That was much longer than expected. Now go and upload it before the librarian bites your head off!_

_Yes Ma'am muse! Hope you liked reading, will come back sooner than this time! Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan and Yasai_


	7. Playground of the Mind

_Ciao!!! _

_Won't say anything beforehand because there's a lot to say at the end, so enjoy reading! _

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_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place _

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 7 **

****

**Playground of the Mind **

Grinning all over his sweat-streaked face Sano held out his right hand to the donzel lying spread-eagled before him. The young man heaved a soft sigh before clutching to the proffered hand with surprising strength, pulling himself to his feet and tensing his muscles against the inevitable slap on the back. 

"Oi! That was sorta great, ya know? We should do it again sometime!" Sano proudly showed off his full height, rustling a hand through his unruly hair, the hood of his cloak having long since fallen down in the heat of the battle that had taken place mere minutes before. 

Thanks to Battousai's skills and careful moves the two of them had managed to get past every single one of the Palace Guards- until, just one intersection in the maze from the 'King's chamber' they had encountered Shinomori Aoshi, the Commander himself. With a cold smile and a whirlwind moving of blades that Sano couldn't even see he had hem down for the count, standing proud for a second as both his opponents blinked up into frozen periwinkle eyes before turning on the heels of his uniform boots and vanishing like a ghost from the mists. 

"He has been holding back," Kenshin said, massaging his side that had taken the brunt of Shinomori's attacks. He had managed to protect Sano from the most dangerous of his opponent's moves, but still the tall soldier sported quite an impressive array of bruises himself. 

"I guess to you everyone's holding back, right?" Sano murmured, somewhat disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm coming from Kenshin's businesslike approach to fighting. "Then, I couldn't even see what that guy was doing… but it was great!" 

'Akai' shrugged, the mask his face wore as stoic as that of the man who had just handed them sound defeat within a few seconds. Sano's emotions concerning fights were foreign to the young man, for him, fighting was a passion when he could move through his _kata_ alone and undisturbed, but a necessity when encountering a strong opponent- at least that was what he had always told himself, and he had tried to adhere to that philosophy, however unsuccessful- nothing in the world could outweigh the thrill of facing off against an equally skilled man in the most primitive and complex dance life had to offer. 

Taking his time to once look up at the innocent, boundless sky stretching out above the walls of the maze (some of which had been reduced to splinters by the force from the fight that had taken place within them), colorless eyes inbetween two states reflecting the clear blue and clean white. Somehow, he wished he could just enjoy the flying clouds and rustling breeze, but then he still had a mission… Hesitantly, he tore himself away from momentary peace and followed his taller companion who kept singing to himself about 'extra pay' towards the balcony King Kamiya was awaiting them on. 

"Saito has done well," King Kamiya greeted them, a dark sparkle in his narrowed eyes. Aoshi had just given a most… intriguing report. Sweeping the stuttered attempts at an answer to this statement aside with a swish of one long-fingered hand clutching the hem of his cloak the King stared them down. Sano, not used to this kind of scrutiny, started fidgeting under the blue-rayed gaze that seemed to penetrate anything. 

"It… it was fun," he said lamely, adding a belated "Kamiya-sama!" when the man he had been partnered with jabbed him in the ribs with on very hard elbow. The King only raised an eyebrow. 

"Fun? You choose your fun your own way, Sagara Sanosuke… I'm not sure whether I like this. But now, you will accompany me to my quarters. I wish to rest before dinner." 

"Yes, Kamiya-sama." The King realized that, once again, it had only been the bumbling fool who had spoken. The little red-haired donzel had stayed quiet- it was infuriating! When he should speak he didn't and when nobody had asked for his opinion he spouted what people most likely called 'wise words'. 

"You, _Adauchi Akai_! What have you done to take out my Palace Guard?" Hah! That would draw him out of his reserve! Now let's see how he answers this… 

"They were mere accidents, Kamiya-sama. I haven't done anything." Two sentences, he had to have lost his touch. Once, one word would have been sufficient, but now… he had to gain the trust of a King without completely changing his personality. 

"Not done anything? Then why are the six of them just now regaining consciousness?" The King's sharp tone of voice carried his question far in the resounding hallways of Dunkelland Castle, far enough to even reach the ears of interested listeners. The donzel stayed calm, King Kamiya's furious stares meeting nothing but emptiness and shadows since he didn't trust his defenses to be in place just yet. 

"I don't know," he stated. The King handed him a dark look but had no choice but to accept Akai's explanation. 

"Very well." Dissatisfaction and frowns were not uncommon as reactions to his sparse words; coming from a King, however, they were something special. 

King Kamiya's comparatively composed and calm exterior which he had been forced to present to the outside world from childhood on was as close to crumbling as it had ever been, the infuriating coldness of Akai the donzel shattering the reflection he had created of himself, causing tiny ripples of imperfection to mar the perfectly kingly surface. Holding himself rigidly upright the King marched away, followed by his two guards and caught in thoughts about how to finally get under the skin of that annoying red-haired boy. 

*~* 

The evening came quicker than Battousai had expected, the calming silence just before sundown striking him as even more unnatural today than any other day, the wind changing direction noticeably chilling in the process. He sat up on the merlons of Dunkelland Castle as had become his custom, keeping watch over the land and feeling the restlessness of a beast cooped up in a pen stirring in his mind. It had been too long since he had been free to run, free to do the _kata_ of his art, the pressure of hiding his true nature taking its toll on him he felt himself lose focus, lose the clarity and presence of mind he would require to adequately deal with the problems the King and _her true nature presented him with. _

Before he could catch himself and change his mind Battousai slipped down from his vantage place, a lithe shadow flitting through the gates just before they closed, his amber eyes burning forth from underneath his hood, fully changed and unveiled in all their matte gold splendor now. His training had him alert at all times, and stressed out like this he was even more deadly than usually. Not even waiting to reach Dunkelwald and its many secluded clearings he broke into a run using his full speed, disappearing from sight to the average human eye, tearing through mossy underbrush and brittle fallwood with merciless precision, executing the first basic moves, lightning-quick jabs and slashes, that ultimately formed his mode of combat. Occasionally soaring as high as the highest branches he arrived at a perfectly circular clearing he himself had made when training in the forest a few months before coming to the castle, and he decided this would be the place he spent the next few hours at. 

It wasn't until his muscles burned with the acidic blood pumping through his veins that he stopped moving, panting with the effort of drawing much-needed oxygen into his painfully tight lungs, every fiber of his being protesting the moves he made to cool down after just a minute pause, but needing them nonetheless. His chest still heaving he finally dropped down onto the cool, dew-dampened ground, calming and collecting his thoughts, preparing himself to handle thinking about the difficulties he'd have with 'King' Kamiya. Finding the hard surface of the forest too uncomfortable after his workout, being distracted by roots jabbing into his kidneys every other second he left Dunkelwald, returning to the castle but not quite entering it yet. Instead, he stayed by the lake just outside the gates, silently watching as the bright moon rose over the treetops, greeting the weary face underneath the sweat-drenched mop of long red hair with a serene smile. Nightfall was always special to him, and this wasn't only because the night was his element, his cloak, his protection and his realm. It was the stilling of breath that Nature itself experienced, in these few moments of utter darkness before a moonlit night. It quenched the desperate hunger in his own soul, something he'd become so accustomed to that the few moments it was missing were almost supernatural to him. 

Battousai sat quietly under the beech tree by the lake, letting his mind wander. It was night, now, and the moon was very nearly full, but not quite- it would be three weeks still before he would see its full, round glory again. For many years, since he'd become a demon who shied away from the light, Battousai had been uneasy under any moon, fearing the revealing character of its light, but now he'd come to appreciate its beauty, and the peace he could find alone in the darkness. Few would expect to find Akai the donzel, or the ruthless assassin he truly was, out alone this late in the evening, staring up at the moon, but that was his reason for coming. In the bustle of the castle, it was hard for even Battousai to find solitude, and right now he needed it very much. 

His feet were bare, and every so often he wiggled his toes, enjoying the feel of the damp grass between them as he sat with his back against the old beech's trunk, uncaring if he stained his tunic and pants or not. Gone were the days when he counted every penny and conserved his money carefully; back when he'd been on his own, killing at night and working odd jobs during the day Battousai had never been sure how long the time between these jobs would stretch. But now, after having been accepted as part of Dunkelland Castle's workforce, he didn't have to worry about such things as stained robes anymore. They would be cleaned, or, if unsalvageable, be replaced. He was comfortable.

Out of habit, his eyes drifted over the castle, carefully examining each line and curve, looking for problems or dangers. He didn't expect to find any because the Palace Guard were on duty, and he himself was a force to be reckoned with as well should anybody try to attack them, but he always looked, knowing that the people inside were his to protect- for the time being. Especially one enchantingly naïve young woman… Even unknowingly, they depended upon his strength to shield them from the monster that lurked just outside the gates- himself.

It was thus that the smell came as a surprise to him. Almost sweet, but with a dangerous hint of malicious darkness in it it wafted from the chimney of a hut leaning against the palace walls, emitted from the cracks in the sagging roof it stole into his nostrils, tingling where it came into contact with his nerves. A poisonous smell it was, almost on par with his own deadliness it shattered the refuge he had found underneath the moonlit sky, reminding him of the world he had dared to shut out for a few minutes.

"What… this _woman_." Battousai knew, of course, the (supposedly) old woman who lived in the hut as he had made it his duty to know everyone who had access to the castle or lived on the grounds. He, like the rest of the country, had never seen her face, only her proud, tall figure shrouded in black, a veil over her head and face wherever she went. The medicine woman, as she was called, was presumably concocting another sleeping draught for their King. She was the only one who had uninhibited access to Kamiya all the time, since the King depended on her creations to find rest. Battousai had found this out pretty fast, the King's fragile condition and shattered mind too obvious to someone trained in reading _ki_. Now that woman had to rely on draughts akin to poison to make her sleep… Battousai couldn't help but wonder what hid behind the eternal cold sneer of the beautiful young woman who was the King. 

She had opened up once, her eyes sparkling with life, and it had been that vision of beauty that had swayed him, had convinced him to change the world for once not through death but through allowing a girl to live the life she should live, the life her mother had intended for her to have. King Kamiya… she was the first woman to capture Battousai's interest, as much as he wanted to deny it to himself. Her twisted mind accompanied his own, the darkness in her heart mirrored by the horrors he had seen and caused. As much as Battousai hated King Koshijirou for the crimes that man had committed against his people, he hated him even more for what he had done to his daughter, his only child. 

The medicine woman was leaving, a steaming goblet in her hands. Battousai's sharp eyes tried to make out her features beneath the concealing dark black veil she wore, but he was, as usual, unable to. He didn't know why she was so secretive about her looks; she seemed to be downright paranoid when it came to people spotting her. If and when she left her hours, it was always the late hours of the night. She kept to the shadows and used the small servants' entrance not too far from her hut. Battousai was very suspicious of her- Dunkelland had experienced a period of unrest these last few weeks, and he had more than once heard the words 'mutiny' and 'revolution' when making his regular rounds through the taverns at night. 

The woman and her goblet vanished through the walls, the light mist arising from the lake's surface lending an eerie, ghostly character to the scene, making the young man shiver despite the heavy cloak he wore. Deciding he wouldn't find any more peace outside that night he rose in a fluent motion, melting into the shadows himself, assuming the quiet, toes-first stalking he used when on the hunt as the nightly demon. Exercising his power, which after the rest he had had was nothing to him, he bounded up the low outer walls of Dunkelland Castle in three flying leaps, hoisting himself up over the merlons and onto the narrow walkways behind. A casual greeting to the soldier on guard at the side gate and he was back in the castle, briskly yet stealthily walking towards the quarters he and the other officer candidates slept in. 

*~* 

The medicine woman silently walked after her guide, the blindfold she was required to put on even after serving the King for so long firmly in place. She didn't know why King Koshijirou had suddenly decreed she was to never look at his son again when the boy had reached the age of maturity, but since that day five years ago she had not laid an eye on the slight, blue-eyed young man. Her abilities to heal were only slightly impaired by the loss of sight, Kamiya reported his injuries calmly and then she set to work, mixing her herbs and the gifts of the Earth to create draughts that strengthened and mended body and spirit. More often than not the King required help with the latter… the medicine women sighed, the small sound lost behind her dark veil. She didn't like to be seen, didn't like to be known as it had spelled disaster for her whenever she had been in the eye of the public. 

"We're there." The guard's bored voice startled her. Immersed in her thoughts, she hadn't realized that she had already arrived in the King's rooms, yet the familiar scent of sandalwood and mossy undertones relayed the information to her brain that it was indeed so. 

"Could you hand me the draught?" she asked, her voice sounding deep and sultry, younger than it rightfully should for an old medicine woman. The guard's hands touched hers upon her request, his leather gloves smooth and cool against the white skin of her palms, marred with scars and burns from where she had forgotten to watch her own movements when preparing her medicine. The goblet's warm roundness glowed in her fingers, the scorching heat it had possessed earlier drained away into the drafty passages of Dunkelland Castle. 

"Thank you," she said, the guard jerking his hands backwards as though he had just experienced an electric shock when she moved her hands. She sighed. Even though the Art of Healing was the farthest from the Dark she could possibly think of most people still saw the men and women preparing medicine as servants of the Devil himself- with women it was worst. She had lost count of the number of times she had been called a witch… 

"King Kamiya will join you shortly." She nodded, the gesture almost concealed by her veil. The King had had a particularly hard month; she had been called upon nearly every other day to provide him with a sleeping draught as his nightmares haunted him horribly. She, as the Healer she was, had a suspicion about what caused those nightmares- but she strictly adhered to the rule not to speak evil of the dead. 

"You have brought my medicine, woman?" The light, lilting voice the King sported when unguarded and disturbed in his mental peace jarred her from her thoughts harsher even than the guard's words had earlier, and she had to exert rigid control over her body and mind to prevent herself from stumbling and spilling the precious herbal remedy in her hands. 

"I have, my King," she answered in her sulking voice, smooth like silk and soothing to the ears of men. 

"Hand it over," she was ordered; wasting no time to comply she listened carefully to the King's deep, erratic breaths as he gulped the pleasantly warm and sweet beverage faster than she liked. He was becoming too depending on her concoctions to help him sleep- this day's draught had already held an increased dose of Hypericum, also known as St. John's wort, and valerian, as well as belladonna and other more deadly ingredients that relaxed muscles and mind. 

"Shall I stay?" she asked, her head inclined in a graceful bow that once again made the King wonder about her true age. But she was just the medicine woman, so why did he care anyways? 

"No," Kamiya replied curtly, his breathing already slowing down and deepening, the gasps that had erratically interspersed it before gone. Curiously, he watched the blindfolded woman bow deeply, patiently waiting for him to call his guard again so that she might be led from his chambers. 

"Thank you," he whispered when she turned to face the door, moving- in spite of not being able to see- with a certainty that had him awed. Immediately after the words had escaped his mouth King Kamiya slapped himself mentally for speaking them, a moment of weakness and the drowsiness setting in having combined to make him lose control. However, the medicine woman, despite his fears, did not take advantage of his lapse. 

"You're welcome, my King," she instead replied warmly, sending tingles down Kamiya's spine he could not place but that were leaving a pleasant sense of completeness in their wake nonetheless. He could not dwell on these feelings, they were forbidden… every time he had felt like this it had been an occasion for punishment… but he was so warm, so… he wasn't alone. A small smile on his lips, his eyes shining with true happiness, the King watched the medicine woman leave in the company of his guard before returning to his bed, secure in the knowledge that the dreams had no place with him that night. 

*~* 

Battousai, on contrast, was offered no such respite. His dreams, in a sense, were even more horrible than those the King sought relief from, for he knew them to be a mirror of reality. They showed him his past, is deeds and the repercussions not only he himself but every one who had been close to his victims suffered, the accusing stare of the empty-eyed dead the only audience to his tortured screams echoing off the bare walls of his mental prison. As often as he told himself that he had been _right, that these men and women had _had_ to die, he still couldn't get rid of the guilt that tore at his soul, scattering the pieces of his mind into an anguished puzzle he strove to rebuild every single night. _

If his control on his body hadn't been as great as it was, his roommates would have soon identified him as the wanted criminal he was, but as it was he had always managed to stifle his groans, moans and screams, waking in the middle of the night pale, shaking and sweating, silently clutching the edge of his blanket, his right hand frantically groping for the hilt of a weapon he couldn't risk carrying with him. 

He had trouble sleeping while lying down. It made him feel even more vulnerable than the act itself did, he hated parting with consciousness on the notice that he wouldn't be up and ready to defend himself in that split second he also knew was required. It had cost him a lot of willpower and determination to just attempt, and even now he lay there waiting for the others to fall asleep so he could scoot to the end of his own bed, sitting up against the wall, one eye and both ears trained to the outside world while his spirit rampaged against itself on the inside. 

He had never spared himself a second of remorse. He had known what he was doing back when he had fist set out to accomplish his task, the sheer impossibility of him escaping the chaos complete and unbroken always on his mind. Perhaps it was because of this mindset that he now was where he was- shaking with fear, chilled beyond the mere feeling of cold, the pure essence of guilt freezing his bones, his knees drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth while desperately fighting to shut out the screams he still head every time he allowed his eyes to close. 

The glinting light of insanity beckoned him at the edge of his peripheral vision, despite being fully awake it called to him, tempting him, telling him he should just let the puzzle shatter and the pieces of it remain scattered for once, calling to him with the sweet voice of oblivion that would follow this course of action. As usual, he was too stubborn to even consider this- his heart would not permit his spirit to choose the coward's way out. But this time, as he watched the night wane into the pale darkness that indicated the coming of the dawn, there was something else holding him back as well- a feeling that something was waiting for him still, that he hadn't found the one thing he had to, that his mind was already missing a part even though he held all the pieces in his hand. 

It's _her_, a tiny voice whispered, the one you swore to rescue… she's your missing piece! He scowled at that voice. What would his conscious know about his needs? It was the cause for all his trouble! 

I just have to make sure… just have to make sure she will listen to me. Once she sees what she's been missing I have done whatever I could. The voices may take me then, the eyes can have their revenge, I don't care. They can do whatever they want with me, just as long as… 

_Just as long as she is safe, right?_ Battousai was downright annoyed at his own mocking, sneering voice interrupted his thoughts, kept him from loathing himself ever more, determined to make him cave in to… _something_. 

I will have to get up soon, he thought, pushing his philosophical musings to the back of his conscious as he rose, I might as well do so now and perhaps bathe… He blushed furiously as he remembered what had happened the last time he had attempted to take a bath in peace, quickly deciding it was not too bad he had woken early for it would prevent him from another embarrassing scene like that. Grabbing his things he headed out of his rooms, the damp feeling of the smooth stone floor curling the muscles on the underside of his feet. I should have remembered to put on shoes… 

*~* 

Morning came in a blaze of glory the King was never aware of- in fact, Kamiya slept well into the day, waking only when the noon sun tickled his nose into a twitching spell that was only released with a tremendous snort, shaking his entire frame and almost- but not quite, else his pleasant mood would have vanished faster than snow in the summer- throwing him out of bed. He didn't remember a single thing about the last night after the visit of the medicine woman at midnight, and he was feeling refreshed from a full night's sleep without the interruption of his dreams. 

There have been dreams too tonight, the insistent little voice every human has hidden somewhere in his mind whispered, only they were not of the usual kind. You had… sweet dreams for once. King Kamiya scowled. A King did _not_ have sweet dreams. Pleasant dreams of satisfyingly punishing that Battousai, yes. Glorious dreams, yes. Dreams of conquest, of battles, of victories, yes. But not dreams like he had had tonight, no, certainly not. Kings simply _did not _chase purple and golden butterflies across sunbaked, sweet-smelling meadows or pick flowers, no, they didn't. 

But even though he scowled at himself and pretended to hate these thoughts and dreams that little voice in the corner of his mind told him that the dreams were _right_, that he, just like every other person, deserved the happiness they conveyed- and that they showed him the life he should have had. 

I'm not that weak! Kamiya reminded himself, wrapping the last of the white bandages tightly around his chest before slipping carelessly into whatever ensemble his servants had laid out for him to wear that day. He refused to let his good mood be ruined- it had been _weeks_ since he'd felt like this, so… calm. 

"King Kamiya? Would you like me to bring you some refreshments?" No. Not him. Not that voice. It couldn't be… 

Scratch that. It _was_ him again. And scratch the refusal of his mood being ruined, that infuriating redhead and his deep, cold voice that betrayed none of his emotions could ruin _anyone's_ mood. He shouldn't even be allowed to exist with a voice like this. And a body like his, the voice added. King Kamiya's sour scowl deepened. 

"Get me something warm," he snapped, walking over to his study and collapsing into his huge seat behind his desk. Today was the day he answered letters… he thought. So all work and no play. Scratch ever being in a good mood- he should not have woken up at all today. 

Akai- why on Earth he had memorized the donzel's name was a mystery to the King- returned almost too fast to have been to the kitchen, but the mountain of grilled deer and steamed vegetables balanced on a silver platter in his hands was too powerful a piece of evidence to be dismissed. King Kamiya's eyes narrowed suspiciously as the donzel neared him, following the donzel's every movement as he casually placed the platter in front of his King, revealing the plate and cutlery he had carried underneath. Setting the table for his King on Kamiya's desk, his hand brushed against his liege's as if by accident. 

Electricity sparked between the two of them, the donzel hastily drawing his hand back as though he had been burned on contact while King Kamiya stared at his hand with wide-eyed wonder. That… that had been incredible. Almost as good as that violet-gold butterfly finally choosing his hand as a resting place the night before… 

"I'm sorry." The donzel actually sounded apologetic- the very first time he had done so. King Kamiya dismissed him with a wave of the hand, grabbing the tall carafe full of wine he kept on his desk and taking a deep swig out of it, watching as the green-cloaked boy- _Man!- moved to stand guard at the entrance to his quarters again. _

You do realize you're staring, right? And that your mind right now is an open playground… The King shut away his little voice as firmly as he could while watching the donzel with what he wanted to make look like detached interest but what rather resembled… a rather close interest. 

Tearing his eyes away from the donzel's ramrod straight, slight back outside his door the King moved his attention to the enormous stack of letters lying at the edge of his desk, waiting to be read and answered. Why his advisors couldn't do that was beyond him, but his father had always emphasized the importance of keeping their neighbors- friendly or hostile- close, and closer the more hostilities were to be expected. 

Delicately cutting a slice off the roasted back of deer the donzel had brought him and placing it on his plate along with some of the vegetables the King nearly decided to savor his meal first- only to remind himself that it would take him even longer to answer these letters then. If he actually started working on them now he might even have an hour of daylight left to practice with Shinomori and Saito. Blindly reaching for the topmost letter on the stack he didn't notice the string attached to it, a spiderthread thin enough to escape casual scrutiny, certainly woven by the hands of a master weaver. The King groaned, concentrating more on the food on his plate than the thick, heavy envelope he picked up. 

It was thus that the first letter came as a surprise to him in more than one way. 

… to be continued … 

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_Hmmm, what can I say *sheepish grin*- I'm not too proud of taking this long to update, and then with a chapter like this that, while it contains all the information I wanted it to convey lacks a certain… coherency. Alright, so I couldn't write more than a paragraph at a time since I was infallibly and always called away as soon as I sat down to write, still… well, I think it's as good as it gets now, and I hope you liked it! Now for some fun… _

_I know I'm evil! *cackles insanely* But it was just… the perfect opportunity to leave.. a little suspense hasn't killed anyone now, has it? _

_Yasai: *shakes head* Chi and her attacks of evilness. She's turning into Ry, I tell you! _

_Thanks for the compliment! After all, according to everyone, Ry is the brighter one of the two of us… _

_Yasai: You're impossible! _

_*grins* Nope. I'm just evil… Now, if you want to know how RtK goes on then… _

_Yasai: Oh no, all this pressure on her lately has made her completely insane- bet she wants bouncing yellow sheep to sing her praise before she writes on! _

_*cackles* No, I want Ry to play Romeo… _

_Yasai: Oh no. Not that. You know your twin refuses to kiss anyone besides his girlfriend! _

_Alright, then I'll have to settle for… wonderful reviews! Like these I got last time… *gleefully bounces off to retrieve her list* Now, I'll respond to them. _

_Yasai: At last, she's doing something productive. The world has come to an end. _

_Muse, you just lack any trace of a sense of humor whatsoever. Now, here you are, my beloved reviewers, this is your space! *does little jig and plays introduction on her piano she's just pulled from mallet space* I proudly present the _

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**Reviewer's corner**

**CurlsOfSerenity**_: Argh! I screwed up making you wait for so long, didn't I? Hope you can forgive me *fidgets*!_

**Zeh Wulf**_: To stay serious would mean to give up on life for me... I guess. Oh boy, I think you're a mind reader... but I won't tell what's true and what not! Keep guessing... you **are** close! (and I just did what I said I wouldn't...) btw: I love your story! Am not quite through yet... (only on chapter 5, reading veery slowly to make the experience last) but I have to say you are one of the best authors I know *blushes* And to think you're reading this... WAH! *hides*_

**Girl-who-sings-the-blues**_: Don't know when, but Misao will be in here. Wouldn't let out Saito-weasel interaction... _

**bonessan**_: Phew, that's a load off my chest. I seriously didn't know whether this idea had been used or not... thanks for telling me!!!_

**ixchen**_: Thank you!_

**teddy grahms**_: Uh... I am slow on the fluff, am I not? I have serious trouble writing it, since I'm more of a cynic myself and tend to ruin fluffy moods with too... direct comments. I'll try my best, however... there will be fluff overload in just a few chapters, I promise, until then, however... let's say it'll get a bit darker soon!_

**Jensa**_: Urgh, I know how you feel- I've got a crazy family who always experiments with our computers. If it weren't for my laptop I'd never be able to write at all, considerinng the downtime of these machines... Yasai says thanks for the food and asks if it comes in chocolate flavor, too- she's a sweet tooth. *grins* The librarian has almost issud a ban on me- I've taken too many books, and to prevent me reading any more she lets me use the internet now- cool, ne? _

**Hiromi**_: *grins* you sould join forces with my beta- she's always leaning on me for being too 'wordy'. I'm seriously trying to fix that problem, though- could you tell me how I fared? There's never such a thing as too much criticism! Thank you for all the compliments! I know this chapter isn't as good as the last, but I still hope you liked it... *grins again* I'm looking sooo forward to writing the next chapter!_

**Natsuko**_: Urgh, too long, too long, too long since I updated... SL and this... hope you forgive me... __I love hearing from you, really, really do! i'm actually at home for once writing this, so there's no Miss Daubecker breathing down my neck- she's cut it out, mostly, anyways since I started raiding the library for books, returning them a day later and demanding new stuff. She's desperate enough by now to let me use the internet... and not to care what I do. _

**Special thanks to**_ **dark aquamarine**- it's always an honor to be on someone's favorites list!_

**_Thanks all of you! Hope to Cya!!!_**

_Chibi-chan_


	8. You don't know your name

_Ciao!!! _

_Well, another week, another update… I couldn't finish SL in time, I'm so sorry. Most of this chapter was already written, thus I can at least post for RtK… it's just that I have to work a lot for school at the moment to maintain my grades- I will be forced to drop my extra classes and extra credit projects if I drop under 13 out of 15 possible points in any subject, and I'm not particularly good at Math… well, I'm on a 13.5 average there, but it's my weakest subject. Another condition for my graduation next Summer is that I keep up with all my extracurricular activities, and since it's nearing Christmas the time for concerts and presentations has come… I am lucky to have five free minutes a day at the moment, and horribly tired- but I'm not telling anyone, otherwise I'll have to stay at school for another year, and I'd do anything to get away from that… hell, even if it means no sleep for the next few months. I'm a bit angry with myself- I've allowed myself to become dictated by other people's expectations, but there's no turning back now. I hope you'll forgive me if my stories come along a little slower at the moment, I truly try my best! Now, I just wish you to have fun with this… it's a little disturbing at the end… at least for me, but nothing too bad, I hope! So enjoy reading! _

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_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 8 **

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**You don't know your name **

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Battousai was concentrating hard to stay awake. He had not slept until well after midnight, and had awakened two hours before dawn, making the night's rest exceptionally short in addition to the heavy-lidded weariness his nightmares induced. He was still more alert than the average soldier, and perhaps could give some of the Palace Guard a run for their money when it came to watchfulness, but for himself he knew he wasn't at his best that day- he even allowed himself to lean against the doorframe outside Kamiya's study. 

Certain in the knowledge that aside from a fully trained stealth ninja nobody would manage to come within a thirty-foot radius of him he closed his eyes, the grating feeling of sand on his eyelids eliciting a slight twitch of discomfort around his mouth. With the loss of sight came an instant sharpening of his other senses, the enticing aroma of the roasted deer he had carried up from the kitchen tantalizing, the dusty, old smell the books behind his back were emitting counterbalanced by Kamiya's naturally sweet and spicy scent clinging to her rooms as though they were a part of her. 

Sounds- the slicing of a knife, the slight rasping as it caught on a bone within the meat, slow, steady chewing- and the rustling of parchment. Ah, the King had decided she would work even while eating! Battousai chuckled low in amusement. If her father had ever caught her at that she would have been in for a severe scolding- King Koshijirou had always emphasized the importance of proper behavior, including the strict separation of work and anything else… 

It was so unobtrusive and low-key he almost didn't notice it, the rustle of the parchment envelope nearly drowning the clicking sound that had him spring into action the very second he caught it. With all his speed and strength he desperately threw himself at Kamiya's form, using everything he had and more. His body blurred into a dark green line as he raced against the forces of gravity and time- and he didn't know if he would make it. 

A click sounded as the cleverly constructed trap was sprung. The King's grabbing of the envelope tightened the string, which was attached to a small, hollow iron cube, pulling open the latch on the side of the cube that was tilted downwards at the exactly right angle to release the glowing ember into the two amphorae to the right and left of the King's desk he usually kept only as decoration. This time, however, whoever had constructed the trap had ensured that they were filled with a mixture of petroleum and tar- Greek Fire, the most destructive and explosive mixture known in Dunkelland¹. Kamiya stared in wide-eyed terror, his blue eyes colored red by the glow of the falling ember, transfixed by the closeness of pain and death. King or not, confronted with the definition of mortal life Kamiya found himself unable to move, unable to do anything but watch the end draw nearer, and unable to drown the last desperate thought. I wish I at least knew who Battousai is now that he's killed me. 

Something- or someone- interrupted his stupor, vise-like pincers closing around his waist as the world lost the sharp, clear focus it had held during the endless moments of facing death, and the terror that finally registered in the King's mind loosened the scream held back in his throat. Forgetting dignity, Kamiya shrieked in terror as he was hurled over his desk, still being grasped by whatever had decided to pull him out of the immediate range of the advancing end. The dim awareness that another body was pressed closely against his, twisting him around until that other body faced the place where the King had seen death incarnated, preceded the ear-rupturing blast, the scorching heat filtering through the veil on his thoughts as the last sensation before Kamiya knew only blackness. 

*~* 

"… slowly. But you can't always get what you want, Hoji, so I want you to kill him off quickly- but leave Kamiya alive. The foolish boy might just be of service… our dear… _sponsor_ is not yet in a position to openly make the grab for power. Once Battousai is out of the way, though…" 

Many frantic ki signatures… running feet, shouts to bring more water… scorching heat… but the voice belonged to Gohei's assistant. As much as his head hurt, Battousai simply knew that, and he also knew that he would be dead if he hesitated another fraction of a second. Throwing caution, his cover and any restraints into the winds he jumped to his feet, a growl ripping from his raw, painfully throbbing throat. Amber broke lose from where he had restrained it for the most time these past days and weeks, its blaze hot enough to rival the rising currents of smoky air wafting out from Kamiya's office. The terrifying image of the demon on the lose, enhanced by the loss of his burned green cloak and the flying strands of flying, blood-red hair stopped the advisor's man in his tracks, leaving only Shishio himself as his opponent. With a casual air the tall, predatory man swept his gaze up and down the slightly toasted figure clad in a classic black Chinese martial arts uniform like the donzel he had impersonated should be. 

"Ah, so _this_ is what the famed Battousai looks like up close… I have to admit, even Hoji here is more to look at." Gohei's assistant possessed a cold, snaky voice when he didn't hide behind a political façade of humble politeness. 

"You… you're that fool Gohei's assistant," Battousai snarled, ignoring the pain spreading through his body from his back where the blast he had rescued Kamiya from had burned his clothes and skin away, "and you just tried to kill your King!" 

Shishio merely raised an eyebrow at the red-haired man's accusation, sneering evilly before launching himself at him, sword drawn, closing the distance between them with three steps while yelling at the top of his lungs. Battousai, out of reflex, parried the strike, relying on his training to save him from Shishio's murderous intent. Luckily he had been allowed to carry his weapon while on duty to guard the King's chambers- his _katana_ flashed out of its sheath with practiced ease to intercept the second blow aimed at his head. 

"He killed the King!" Shishio wailed, and only now Battousai realized he had been trying to get reinforcements to the site of their battle, to take him down- and to frame him. The mere thought of this almost froze him in place, and it was only thanks to his honed reflexes that his body overrode his mind and threw itself aside to save him from worse injury then the shallow slash across his sword arm. 

"Battousai is here! He killed Kamiya!" Dodge, parry, strike, attack, parry, lunge… Shishio lost himself in the rhythm, the knowledge that he had to be the only living man to have lasted that long against the red demon egging him on constantly, fine-tuning his reactions, lending power to his attacks. Or perhaps it wasn't the power in his attacks that allowed him to last… he watched his opponent closely, saw how he winced after every jarring blow he caught with that blasted blade of his, saw how he avoided moving as much as possible, saw how he didn't use the lightning fast strikes and air attacks he was rumored to use, and made the connection to the charred remains of a cloak hanging from Battousai's shoulders- the young assassin was injured, and fairly severe if the limitations to his fighting style was any indication. 

"Get him! It's Battousai! He's injured, and he tried to kill King Kamiya!" A snarl came over his lips as Shishio shouted his lies once again, momentarily pushing the stiffness and pain of the burns on his back- and his legs, as he had recently got to know when he almost stumbled after and attempted Ryu Tsui Sen- away. Battousai fought with all he had, but he knew that for once it would not be enough. The trap had been expertly set and sprung, and he, in his foolishness, had been caught. 

His senses were tingling, the first sign that even more was wrong than he dared to believe. Risking to take his eyes away from his opponent for a second he became aware of the fact that he was surrounded, surrounded by a circle of grim-faced soldiers- and Palace Guard, he noticed with a sinking feeling in his stomach. His head hammered, the mere fact that he had been unconscious already suggesting he had a concussion on top of his other injuries. 

His last hopes for an attempt at escape were vaporized when he laid eyes on the silent, tall figure of the man he had pretended to train under. Saito, accompanied by Shinomori Aoshi and the imposing figures of the last two missing Palace Guard, Shikijou and Hannya. Trying to formulate a plan of how to get out of the hopeless situation distracted Battousai for a split second- a split second his opponent had been waiting for. 

Had this been a normal fight, being shoved against the wall and held immobile for a few seconds would not have had any consequences for Battousai, however, this was not a normal fight. Three seconds were enough for the Palace Guard with the crossbow to get his bearings on the red-haired fighter and fire without endangering Shishio. The dart was released, and it was flying straight and true. Eyes widening, Battousai desperately wrenched himself from the tight grip Gohei's advisor had on him, ignoring the horrible tearing in his back and diving to the side. 

He would have made it, had Shishio not grabbed onto the tattered and charred remains of his cloak, unbalancing him and slowing him down. The crossbow dart hit its mark with a wet, crunching sound, and Battousai crumpled to the floor, as his right leg didn't respond to his demands. The shock was enough to make darkness engulf him for a few seconds, and when he opened his eyes again the amber had fled and shocked, pale cobalt blue had replaced it in the narrowed slits. Shishio had vanished from his sights, apparently thinking that the fight was over. Battousai lifted himself up on his forearms, having fallen flat on his face when consciousness had fled from him. 

The circle of soldiers had closed in on him, taking away his space to maneuver, trapping him in a cage of sharpened steel. Battousai felt like a wild animal caught and incarcerated, and he snarled and hissed accordingly as he fought to clamber to his knees. His right leg was numb, whether with shock or because a nerve had been severed he didn't know, but it effectively rendered him helpless- comparatively. He still managed to ward off any attempts to catch him, dodging slashes right and left, his blade hissing like a snake as it cut through the air. 

"No! Akai! Leave him alone, he didn't kill King Kamiya!" Sanosuke had just arrived at the scene, it seemed. Battousai tried again to struggle to his feet, giving up only when sharp agony lanced through his leg and back, too intense to be ignored. He sucked in his breath, becoming for the first time aware of the slickness of the floor- slickness caused by his own blood. Light-headed, he fought to focus on every single of the million _katana_ blades dancing in front of his eyes. 

"Sano, no," he murmured, his right hand losing the feeling in it, his _katana_'s hilt consequently slipping from his grasp. The young, involuntary recruit couldn't hear him, though. Chocolate eyes fixating on Battousai the Sekihoutai took in the whole picture with a mixture of horror and admiration. His view was blocked by a tall figure moving through the circle of soldiers, a tall figure with reddish brown eyes and long, rather thin brown-black hair. 

"No! Don't! Akai's innocent!" Sano's protests were ignored, his struggle to reach his friend, the donzel, interrupted by steel-cord muscles and yellow eyes. "Saito, let me go! He's innocent!!!" 

The wolfish trainer of the recruit simply pressed his thin lips tighter together and restricted Sano's movements to the point that the young soldier-in-training couldn't even think of trying to get to the wounded man in front of them. 

Battousai was kneeling on the floor, his right leg rendered useless by the dart, shot from a crossbow and lodged deeply in the thick muscle of his thigh six inches above the knee, the blood from his wounds flowing freely as he tried to hide the pain showing nonetheless in his pale cobalt eyes. His right hand was curled feebly around the hilt of his sword, the strength that had fueled his duel so far ebbing away with the tide of red liquid forming a puddle at his feet. Defiantly, he stared into the yellow-golden eyes of his enemy, the intelligence officer who had hunted him for years, daring him to kill him, almost welcoming death as he preferred it over the fate that was expecting him. 

"Hello Battousai… so we meet again." Shishio was staring the helpless assassin down, his intimidation tactics clearly not working on the proud redhead. Furthermore, the fact that he had drawn back from the fight and had let his subordinates do the work for him enraged the assassin to the point that he wasn't even able to snarl at him anymore. A hateful glare was all Battousai could muster, but its strength rivaled that of a strong sword attack and served as a reminder to Shishio that he wasn't and wouldn't be broken. A swift kick into his wounded side sent him sprawling on the floor, biting back a moan of pain as his eyes clouded over with the shadows of unconsciousness. Impassively, the yellow eyes outside the circle watched on, undisturbed by the strain of holding back a rather strong young man. 

Sano struggled against the two soldiers holding him back, fighting and cursing all the time as Shishio snarled while beating up his wounded friend. Not a sound escaped Battousai's- no, Akai's- lips, even though his form grew limp the longer the brutal torture continued. Gohei's advisor, even though he was unknown to Sano, emitted an aura of such malice that it sent shivers down the brown-haired man's spine. He just couldn't restrain himself any longer, there had to be something or someone who could do something! 

"Don't! Saito, he's not the one you want. Shishio wants to take over Dunkelland for himself, he wants to kill Kamiya and take the throne. Battousai just wanted to help!" He didn't know where he took the conviction to shout this from, but as soon as he had said the words they became the truth. Akai _wouldn't _kill the King, he could have done so much easier and with less effort, he would just have murdered him when he was guarding his chambers, and using his sword, not some… fire trap, that had people scrambling to extinguish the flames even now! 

"Quiet! Battousai has been caught in our trap… and now he will pay the price. Carry him off to the dungeons!" Shishio had obviously played enough with his downed enemy, the limp, semi-conscious figure lying on the floor not putting up much of a fight anymore. Battousai looked as though he had escaped the meat grinder from hell, and he didn't move. Were it not for the heavy gasps of his breath Sano would have presumed him dead. 

"If Battousai wanted to kill Kamiya, then why is he still alive?" The ex-bandit shouted in desperation. Battered and bruised though he might be, the assassin's muscles stiffened at Sano's exclamation. Losing the fight against his own body he tried to raise the head lolling limply on shoulders that were firmly in the grip of four soldiers, as were his legs. Fire lacing every syllable he forced himself to speak, ignoring the screams his tortured body uttered. 

"Don't… Sano!" he cried, but it was too late. Sano had broken free and was racing away from Saito, towards Shishio. Struggling to free himself, Battousai snarled at Shishio, his eyes glazing over in gold, his strength returning for one last stand. Eight soldiers had no chance of restraining him- he was too agile, too strong, too fast. They had to drop his arching and winding body, and he fell to the floor with a dull _thud_. Before he could get to his feet, however, two soldiers grabbed him from behind. The last thing he saw was Shishio's left fist hitting his abdomen, the whooshing of his breath leaving his lungs starved for oxygen the last thing he heard before the world went dark with the hilt of Shishio's sword hitting his temple. 

*~* 

Hard though as it was, Sano restrained his anger. When the soldiers, under the supervision of Palace Guard Hannya, had carried the small, broken body of Dunkelland's greatest enemy off to what could only be captivity and, ultimately, death, he had wanted to explode at the injustice of it all. He had known Battousai for only a day, but he had already felt he could trust that man with all he was and could be- it was almost as though a bond existed between the two of them, a bond that enabled them to fight together as a team, greater in unity than each part. He had controlled his temper, had kept his boiling anger in check when Saito had finally released him, and he had not gone off tearing after Battousai. Instead, he had accepted the punishment of double shifts for speaking out against his superiors and siding with a wanted criminal, and now stood guard in front of the King's bedroom, listening to the anxious babbling of several advisors who were waiting for the medicine woman- he didn't who that was or where she came from, but she apparently came from outside the castle since it took her so long to arrive- to come and the King to wake up. 

Sano frowned. All that fuss over that wimp of a King who in all likelihood had only had the wind knocked out of him, and perhaps a mild concussion. His stomach churned at the thought of Battousai lying alone and uncared for on the chilly stone floor of the castle's dungeons, helpless and- as disconcerting as it was- perhaps already half dead. 

"Would you please show me to Kamiya?" A woman's voice intruded on his thoughts, waking him from his musings. She sounded slightly miffed that he hadn't realized her presence sooner, and the blindfold she was wearing showed him why. She needed a guide, and probably was used to the King's guards jumping to her aid as soon as she showed up. She had to be the medicine woman. 

"You're the medicine woman?" She nodded. "Alright. You are expected." He grabbed her elbow, which was, surprisingly, not as bony as he had anticipated it to be, instead, she seemed to be quite sleekly muscled, unlike any old woman he had ever met. 

"Could you tell me about Kamiya's condition and how the King ended up in such an unfortunate incident?" Her voice wasn't that old, either. If it weren't for the strange garments and her veil he would almost place this medicine woman at about his own age, perhaps a few years his senior but certainly not the seventy-odd years of age she was rumored to be. She stopped walking, her arm in Sano's grip. Obviously, she wanted some information first before she was ready to face the King. 

"Well, there was an attempt on Kamiya's life using some kind of trap that spat Greek Fire at the King, luckily there was someone who pulled him out of the way in time. Now, he was only shocked and winded, and he hit the ground pretty hard, so bruises and a mild concussion. The other guy shielded him against the fire, he's much worse off." He tried, really tried, to keep his anger from lacing through his voice; however, his success was partial at best. 

"Another person involved? Shouldn't I have a look at that person then as well?" the medicine woman asked, professional concern and puzzlement foremost in her voice. Sano couldn't keep his look from darkening, and was once again glad that the woman was blindfolded. 

"The other person turned out to be Battousai. He was accused of attempting to murder King Kamiya… if you ask me, he could've killed the King a thousand times over by the time that thing exploded, and he even tried to save him…" 

"You mean to say that Battousai, the murderer of King Koshijirou, is an innocent?" This time, the medicine woman's voice sounded sharp and piercing, and had her eyes not been hidden Sano was sure they would have skewered him with the sharpness of their gaze. As it was, her remark stung, reminding him of what his friend Akai had done in the past, and forcing him to face the facts that led everyone but him to believe Battousai was, in fact, guilty as charged. 

"He didn't try to kill Kamiya this time round, that's what I mean," Sano spat, forcing the medicine woman to move forward, "and sometimes it's better to kill someone outright than to starve them to death with laws!" 

The medicine woman puzzled over his words, her dainty, certain steps faltering a bit before she stopped just inside the King's chambers, jarring Sano into a stop himself. 

"I can't fathom the meaning behind your last statement, soldier, but I believe you're right in thinking that Battousai's involvement in today's attempt on Kamiya's life was an accident. He would not be stupid enough to rescue the subject he wants to murder from his own trap. Besides, he seems to prefer using his sword for… removing certain people. And now that I have _hopefully_ given you some peace of mind, would you please bring me to King Kamiya?" 

"Certainly," Sano muttered, mulling her words over. 

"That will not be necessary, medicine woman. I am quite well, I only hit my head on the floor harder than I had anticipated. But I don't suffer from concussion, so you don't have to concern yourself with my welfare. Now, soldier, tell me where I can find the donzel Adauchi Akai. He has saved my life today, and I am to show gratitude." The King's voice sounded so displeased at the mere thought of showing his gratitude that Sano shuddered imagining _he_ was the one at the receiving end of that… _gratefulness_. 

"Adauchi Akai? I'm afraid you haven't been informed on the… _situation yet, my King." A tall man with an angular face and really short, thinning and receding hair that had been at the site as well, as Sano clearly remembered, stepped up to Kamiya. "You see, my King, that donzel was actually, and I am deeply sorry that we have failed to see this earlier, I offer you my sincere regrets, but…" _

"Get to the point, Hoji," the King sighed in exasperation. As brilliant a politician and strategist as Sadojima Hoji was, he also was infamous for his ling-winded speeches and even more extensive apologies. 

"Akai is Battousai, King Kamiya," Sano spoke up, ignoring the glares sent at him and the two soldiers that had been guarding the entrance to the King's bedchamber starting towards him, "and he has _not tried to murder you." _

With that, he saluted sharply, released the medicine woman from his grip and turned sharply on his heel to resume his post. He wasn't foolish enough to think he would get away with his behavior, but he _had to speak up for his friend Akai at least once. _

The King couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The murderer had been a guard, a soldier at Dunkelland Castle, someone the King had trusted with personal information? The demon had wormed its way into the heart of the castle- And _your_ heart as well! - and nobody had even suspected it? The King was reminded of the suspicions he had harbored, how easily he had dismissed them when all the signs had been there. 

"Battousai?" Kamiya finally spat, "I should have known!" He slammed a fist against the doorframe, wincing slightly at the pain. 

"I can't believe you were this blind! Haven't you realized that donzel was different?" Hoji cowered under Kamiya's searing stare. The assistant to Shishio had expected the King to be angry, but this… The hate rolling in waves off the King's body, so intense that it made his skin tingle all over, this was something that couldn't be expected. 

"We… no, my King, we haven't, and I offer you my life for that mistake." The aging man bowed deeply, exposing his neck, trembling with fear and the feeling of power emanating from Kamiya. 

"Fool! Your life is nothing, nothing at all! It won't help if I kill you, so get up and do something useful instead of your groveling! Leave me now- no, not you," the King motioned for Sano, who had been already out the door as the words were spoken, to remain behind, "but you, Hoji." 

Somehow, Sano had the suspicion that groveling was an integral part of the politician, or perhaps of any politician in Dunkelland. Hoji, despite having been told to stop doing so, groveled his way out the door, straightening from his bow only when the two heavy doors slammed shut in front of his face. Sano directed his spiteful glare from the politician to his King, glowering silently. Kamiya was not only responsible for his family's misery now, he had also imprisoned Sano's friend whom he knew to be innocent, and Sano, even though he was the type that easily forgave a mistake was also the type who was fiercely protective of his family and friends. He could not stand the thought of having to be of service to the… _worm_ of a King who didn't give a damn about evidence or justice. 

"Now, I want you to bring me to where Battousai is, and I want you to do it immediately," King Kamiya snapped at the tall, brown-haired soldier he had kept from leaving. Instead of an answer or a gesture of respect the man in question just looked down on his liege. 

"I don't even know where he is, Kamiya-sama," he spat, an unholy fire glowing deep in his chocolate eyes. The King gave a low chuckle. Evidently this man truly believed in Battousai's innocence… what a fool! Joining with bandits seemed to have been the least of his follies, now he joined forces with the number one enemy of the State. King Kamiya shook his head, puzzling over the nature of Man that would instill loyalty to Evil even when the representative of Good, in the form of an overlord, was present. 

"Well, then accompany me to the dungeons- I do not wish to face that murderer without protection, soldier!" Kamiya was proud of himself. The way his voice had assumed a glacier-like quality… and his stature and demeanor had commanded respect- that was what his late father had always asked of him. You will be proud of me yet, Father. 

"Yes, Kamiya-sama." Sano's face had lost all expression, his shoulders slumped down in defeat. He had reminded himself constantly of Battousai's wish that he should not act, that he should let fate run its course, but it didn't get easier the longer he did it, no, it only got harder. Every breath he took was a struggle against the urge to strangle the King, to force him to look at the facts and reevaluate his choices. Instead, he simply turned, ushering his liege down the hallways and ever-dampening stairs, deeper and deeper into the bedrock Dunkelland Castle was built upon. 

Before he had started his duties as a soldier of Dunkelland, serving the Castle, Sano had been given an extensive tour of the facilities, from the highest tower to the deepest dungeon, so he couldn't say the creaking of chains, soft moaning and wailing or the salty tang in the air were a novelty to him. Still, the very air in the dungeons seemed to come alive with misery and abandonment, sending shivers down the spiky-haired fighter's spine. 

Mould and leeches were covering the walls where the flickering torches lent a little light to the dank, dark hallways, heavy oakwood doors hung waterlogged from their rusty iron hinges, and from time to time a pale and emaciated hand reached through the little, bar-covered window in one of them, begging for food, or perhaps just asking for the touch of another living being. Some of these prisoners had been in there for more than a decade, Sano knew, without ever setting foot out of their ten-by-ten feet cubicles, eternal night in their eyes, silence broken only by the spooky sounds of the dungeon. Noone to talk to, noone to see since food was delivered through a hatch in the door, by guards who did everything feasible to leave the dungeons as fast as possible. Being a prisoner in the dungeons of Dunkelland Castle was, in a sense, worse than being dead. Nobody cared if you lived or died, and once in there chances were slim at best ever to get out again. 

Rats scurried out of the way as Sano led King Kamiya deeper and deeper into the Castle's innards, the torches becoming fewer and farther between as they made their way towards the yawning darkness that was the high security part of the prison. 

"Battousai is down there?" Kamiya asked, sounding not so high and mighty anymore. If Sano had been asked, the King sounded downright scared, but then that was impossible- sure Kamiya wouldn't allow himself to be affected by something as simple as a smelly, old dungeon. 

"Again, Kamiya-sama, I don't know where Battousai is. But there is someone who knows, and he lives down here. He is your Master of the Chains, and he is responsible for the dungeons and their inhabitants." 

"Master of the Chains?" The young King shivered. His father had told him stories about the monstrously disfigured man who lived only to torture, inflict pain on living beings, hidden from view in the deepest dungeons, carrying out his profession without ever being asked about it or being controlled. King Koshijirou had chuckled in amusement when the small child that was his son cowered in fear, begging him not to let the monster come out. Now he was about to meet his fear… King Kamiya couldn't suppress the whimper that stole itself from his lips, nor could he keep himself from shivering. 

"Oh, the stories are greatly overrated, Kamiya-sama." Sano found it in him to reassure the King- though perhaps he needed as much reassurance. After all, the… Chain Master _had_ given him quite a scare during his tour. 

"Stories? Oh, I suppose the things they tell you about me… but they are true, young King, that they are, they are so very true… it was your father who sent me down here, who made me into what I am, so you should know the stories are true… but then, you always had a bit too much of an active fantasy…" A deep voice coming from the shadows stopped the King and the soldier dead in their tracks. Glowing, yellow eyes, viler in color than Saito's and more luminous than Battousai's amber were the first thing they saw before, in the flickering light of the torches, a monstrosity showed itself. 

Bent over so low that his nose was almost parallel to the ground the Chain Master nonetheless almost reached the King in height. Straggly, gray hair only partly covered a deathly white, disfigured skull, the skin stretched so tightly over the bones that it seemed as though Death himself was walking the earth. The Chain Master's tunic, rusty red in color, hung in tatters over a sagging body that could hardly carry its own weight. The stains on the fabric, only a little darker than the basic color, assured the King of the man's pleasures, just as the red-rimmed, untrimmed nails on claw-like fingers did. 

"I assume you are looking for the new one, aren't you, young King? He killed your father, didn't he, young King? Have come to take revenge, have you, young King?" Another insane chuckle from the voice that was drifting up from the graves, deep and ominous and foggy, made Sano wish he were anywhere else but there. 

"Sh… Show me where he is. Show me Battousai," Kamiya forced out, his lips unwilling to form the words. The Chain Master looked him up and down with his lantern eyes, studying him like he would an insect before dissecting it. Then he gave a curt nod, the strands of greasy hair on the crown of his head wriggling like snakes, and limped away, not caring whether or not the King and his companion would follow. 

Sano shivered uncontrollably now, the misty cold of the dungeon seeping into his bones, the sheer horror he felt whenever he looked at the crooked figure of the Chain Master only amplifying it. What had the man said- King Koshijirou had made him into what he was? He couldn't even begin to think what acts of cruelty were necessary to twist a human being into such a… creature. King Koshijirou had gotten off too light when Battousai had killed him- he should have suffered for his deeds if they were only half as horrible as the creation of the Chain Master. 

They moved towards a more brightly lit area, a perfectly circular chamber that was very well lit, a chamber that had been empty when Sano had seen it but whose purpose had been clear even then, the long chains hanging from the ceiling and ending in manacles that were covered in a rusty red, flaky substance a dead giveaway. He had been horrified of the prospect of anyone being bound by them even then, imagining the helplessness being hung up like that brought, hearing the walls groaning and screaming with the echoes of past… happenings. Now, however, the chamber _wasn't_ empty, and Sano's worst fears were not only proven true but surmounted. 

"There he is… I haven't put him into a cell yet, young King, I haven't finished playing with him… ah, he is such a difficult subject… but I will make him scream yet… your father always loved to hear how I made them scream… and I got everyone, everyone to scream…" The Chain Master gazed up into the bright torchlight, then let his eyes travel over the form of his 'subject' with a look that was almost akin to… _love_? 

Sano couldn't believe it. Battousai had been injured when he was dragged off to the dungeons, and Shishio had beaten him quite soundly, but the… body that hung from the chains in front of him couldn't be the same man. In the matter of hours he had progressed from bad to worse and beyond, and it was almost unimaginable that he could still be alive from the way he looked. A gasp tore itself from his throat as the Chain Master prodded the limp figure with the index finger of his right hand, making him swing back and forth on the chains his wrists were fastened to. His back was covered in cuts and bruises, marks of whiplashes, his torso was a sea of green and purple, and even though the light was treacherous Sano thought he could make out the marks of burns. Not an inch of skin was intact- Sano couldn't even imagine what 'Akai' had gone through. His right leg was still bleeding profusely, the crossbow dart firmly lodged in the taut muscle of his upper thigh. 

"That…" Even the King was at a loss for words, still Kamiya's eyes showed nothing but contempt and satisfaction. Contempt for the murderer of his father, and satisfaction that he was caught. Roughly shoving the chuckling Chain Master aside the King of Dunkelland stepped up to his bound foe, pulling away the curtain of his red hair that hung across his face like a river of spilt blood, exposing pale skin covered in blood, grime and bruises and two hazy amber eyes blinking as though Battousai had just awoken from a long, fitful night's sleep. They were dark, amber-gold and shining with fever, squinting at the King as though he were incapable of focusing on the slight figure. He looked as though he died twice and was revived again every time- but he had not lost the defiant spark in his gaze, even as dim as it was. 

"Battousai. You… are Battousai," Kamiya spat, releasing the fistful of hair he had grabbed, causing Battousai's head to limply roll back on his shoulder before he caught himself again and stared at the King. 

"I know who… I am… don't… have to tell me. But you… you… you don't even… know your name." He coughed, trying to keep his body from jerking as he forced the words out, his voice sounding as bitter and raw as the pain he had to be feeling. Kamiya's eyes widened, whether in surprise that the captive assassin had actually managed to speak or because of his words Sano didn't know, but as soon as he had caught himself again the King furiously lashed out, his fist connecting solidly with the bound man's jaw, the crack echoing around the circular chamber and escaping from a hole in the ceiling. Battousai's words seemed to have cost him his last strength- Sano saw his head jerk back, but the liquid fire eyes were already closed, the tightness in his face lost as he had fallen into the blissful darkness of unconsciousness. 

"What do you mean, I don't know my name? Answer me, murderer!" Kamiya snarled, but any answers the King might have gotten were unattainable at the moment. 

"I will have you answer me, whatever the cost." The King's voice was eerily calm, his eyes frozen. "Get the medicine woman- he has to stay alive for a little while. You may play with him after he has answered me," Kamiya then assured the Chain Master, who had assumed a decidedly dejected look at the thought of losing his favorite plaything. !Why are you still here, soldier?" 

Sano fled from the dungeon, accompanied by the Chain Master's insane chuckle and King Kamiya's swearing under his breath. He would get the medicine woman- and perhaps there was still hope for Akai, or Battousai, if he only did the right thing at the right time… 

… to be continued … 

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_Urgh! I actually had to have my beta rewrite the last part- I think I'm going to be sick now…in my version, everything was bit less… drastic. I feel really sick… _

_Yasai: Wimp. My authoress is not suited to evil…. That's where N. and I come in *smirks*. Now **how** can this turn into a romance story? Don't fret, it will… but there are still a few twists and turns on the way, and Chi will need your help until then- she really has a weak stomach! _

_Just because you can be the epitome of evil doesn't mean I am, too- remember, Ryan is the evil twin! _

_Yasai: Yeah, I remember- you had him think up the Chain Master, so due credit for that character goes to Chi's twin brother Ryan! _

_And credit for the trap partly goes to my best friend S.- she brought up Greek Fire in a discussion about Chemistry, and I only realized its trap potential… thanks, S.! _

_Yasai: Now, most credit, of course, goes to the reviewers- Chi wouldn't be writing as fast as she does without you- she doesn't have a lot of time at the moment, and only your inspiring words make her take her precious free time and spend it in front of a computer screen, so here's your thanks! Even though__ Chi hasn't__ got much online time at the moment (__Chi's __Dad cra__shed their connection again...) she reads every one of them- sorry she can't reply this time, but next time Chi'll do it again, she promises!_

_I honestly promise! Cya soon!!!_

_Chibi-chan and Yasai_


	9. In obscuro

_Ciao!!! _

_Shadow's Light is being obstinate- Chapter 19 refuses to be molded from an assortment of small, related scenes into a real chapter- it'd infuriating considering that only the last 5% of work have to be done, yet I am incapable of connecting everything. I guess this is what writer's block is like… well, luckily for me I have my second story, so I'll just give you more RtK until SL finally decides to cooperate! Again, part of the credit for this chapter goes to my beta, my twin and my friends- they made me include more and more evilness and dark plots in something I intended to be more light hearted *sighs*. Have to admit, though, it makes the story more interesting (and longer…). I have also managed to acquire yet another future scar… was stupid enough to cut myself on my bowstring in archery practice, a pretty nasty slash on my left arm (I am right-handed when it comes to archery though left-handed at fencing… pretty illogical if you ask me) that required twenty-three! stitches and slows down my typing speed. Just because I forgot to wear my armguard… Urgh, I hate being stupid and clumsy…and then teachers are in a 'we-are-going-to-vacation-soon'- mood- meaning they don't really want to prepare the few lessons we're not writing tests in, thus making for a wonderful opportunity to 'ask-Chi-to-do-a-report-on-the-subject-of-whatever-book-she's-carrying-around-with-her-lately'. Much, much work… anyways, it doesn't stop me from writing, so here you are! Enjoy!!! _

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_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place _

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 9 **

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**In obscuro**

Calmness and equanimity had never been a particularly prominent character treat of King Kamiya. Rather, he possessed a short-fused, explosive temper and had never been good at being composed and levelheaded during a crisis. It was not surprising that being in a dungeon in the company of an unconscious Battousai and a rather creepy Chain Master who studied him out of luminous yellow eyes while murmuring what, to the best knowledge of King Kamiya, could be a curse or a prayer made Kamiya edgy. 

The King had taken to pacing the circular dungeon, walking as close to the walls as possible what with the amount of… equipment stored on shelves and machinery lining the roughly hewn stone walls. The more distance there was between him and the murderer in the center, the less likely it was that he just went and strangled the helpless man right now. He had never been so furious in his life, or so confused. Battousai had not been afraid of him. He had stared him down with these… _abominable_ eyes of his, and had stammered nonsense. He, the King, not knowing who he was? Utter rubbish! The redhead only wanted to infuriate him, perhaps to ensure himself a quick and painless death, but Kamiya wasn't stupid enough to fall for these ploys, oh no, he wasn't. Battousai would give him the answers he craved, and in doing so would vanquish all the demons and fears still haunting the monarch. He would soon have avenged his father's death, and would have solved every riddle involving Battousai. 

Staring down on the slumped figure hanging from mangled wrists the King felt his fury increase. There he was, so close to his answers and yet so far away because that coward had fled into unconsciousness. And, judging from the relaxed look on his battered face, he had found something that had eluded the King even in sleep when he wasn't under some kind of drug- peace. His face twisting into an ugly grimace of envy and hate the King sneered at the captive. Why would he be allowed something he, the most powerful being in the whole of Dunkelland, was denied? 

He collapsed because he was tortured, you git! the little voice in the King's head shouted, rising to an annoyingly high, almost _female pitch as it grew more and more irritated. Kamiya rubbed his brow. Somehow, this little conscious of his got out of control… _

He is a coward and a murderer, and he got what he deserved, he argued against himself, trying to find something to support his statement, resuming his angry pacing around Battousai's body. Of course, Kamiya just _had_ to look at the wounds on the assassin's back then, the angry red slashed and deep, blistering burns he had gotten while shielding his King from the blast of the Greek Fire- See, he was _shielding you_! _Helping you! He isn't that bad!- and couldn't help but think that nobody, no matter what his crimes were, deserved something like that. The King had his share of less than pleasant experiences, some of them even so bad that he couldn't, or wouldn't, remember them, but still, the things this red-haired man had had to go through… _

I _won't_ feel bad for him! He murdered my _father_! He thought furiously, shoving all feelings of sympathy as far away as he could. 

And you want to deny that you felt at least the tiniest bit relieved when you heard that King Koshijirou had proceeded to the afterlife? Sarcasm certainly fit him. It was a part of himself that the King realized not often enough, but his conscious had the part down perfectly. It was a fact that Kamiya's first thought after hearing the news of his father's death had been that he was free now. And it was only several minutes later that this sense of a weight being lifted from his shoulders was replaced by the mindless fury he was feeling now. You _think_ you are feeling now, his mind corrected. 

I _am_ feeling now, the King insisted, finishing another round of pacing and staring into the tranquil face of Battousai again. That mind held all his answers. And he was furious. _Very_ furious. He would have his answers _now_. 

King Kamiya started shaking the prisoner, calling him, hissing at him, cursing at him to wake up. But Battousai stubbornly refused to come out of unconsciousness. Just another mistake no his part… King Kamiya called for the Chain Master, who had disappeared into what the King presumed were his sleeping quarters earlier, cackling all the while. 

*~* 

He was dimly aware of the dull, throbbing agony that was his body, lurking somewhere at the edge of his consciousness. It couldn't reach him where he was, being shut off by the barrier of darkness that kept him within the half-light he had come to associate with his subconscious, but it was there, and sooner or later he would return to it. He just hoped it would be later than sooner- it had been a long time since he had felt so peaceful and protected. The outside world was just a distant memory, and time, or rather the passage of it, held little importance in the limbo he was in. Battousai felt himself lose the restraints he had put on himself, felt his mind free itself of the rigorous control he had to exert when awake, felt _himself_. There was no doubt, no fear, no hesitation, no duty, no pain. There was only being, and the soft, soothing waves of his _ki_. Deep meditation had immersed him in his center before, but it couldn't compare to what he was experiencing now- the pure bliss of oblivion. 

The throbbing intensified, exerting a pull on his thoughts that got harder and harder to resist. Stinging threads connected with his thoughts, painfully making him aware that he would have to leave his haven too soon. The light dimmed, a certain sign that he was entering the dark barrier separating him from reality. Resignation substituted the blissful absence of thoughts, and then the darkness was upon him. 

Blazing fire rushed through his veins as his whole body froze simultaneously, thousands of nerve-endings misfiring, shooting their angry warning message at his brain, overloading his senses with what he couldn't even put in words. It just _hurt_. It hurt so much that even he couldn't stifle the groan that tore at his vocal cords. 

"I have awakened him, young King." So it was that voice again… the voice of the crouched, disfigured creature that had put him in his current state. Battousai snarled weakly as his tired, tearing eyes came to rest on the whiter-than-death skin only partially covered by strands of what he would rather call gray, greasy sheep's wool than hair. The Chain Master- he had told his latest victim his title while trying to break him with some of his nastier inventions- only chuckled before breaking out in a full-fledged, coughing and wheezing bout of laughter. 

"I told you he would wake up, young King. Alas, he hasn't screamed yet, but I can fix that, oh yes, I can!" Yellow lanterns posing as the creature's eyes fixed themselves onto his torn body, promising unbelievable pain. 

"I don't want that… _yet_. You can have him later. For now, leave us, Chain Master." King Kamiya sounded too calm and collected. The ice lacing his voice hinted at his true feelings, though. The King was angry. No, more than angry, he was driven by the furies of hell. 

"I have some questions." Narrow, blue slits swam in and out of focus as aches he hadn't realized when first waking up manifested themselves, increasing the pressure on his brain and the fuzziness the whole world suddenly possessed. He doubted he would be able to make his voice cooperate, even if he wanted to. 

"You _will_ answer them." No doubt, the King was furious. Battousai couldn't imagine anyone resisting the command- except himself. He wasn't afraid. There was nothing the King could do to him that he hadn't already experienced. Pain was, after all, only an illusion, a mechanism the body used to tell the mind that something was wrong with it. 

"Why did you kill my father? What did you wish to accomplish by murdering your King? Who are you? And why did you say I don't know my name? You know as well as I do it's Kamiya! How did you get into the castle? Why did you try to kill me? Why did you abate from your plan and shield me? And _why did you allow yourself to get caught? Answer!" _

He tried to, he really did. But his dry throat closed up on any sound, except for a slight, embarrassing moan. He would have answered a few of the King's questions, like how he got into the castle. Alright, so this was the only question he would have answered… had he told the King her true name? What had he said? He couldn't remember, all he remembered was that Sanosuke and the King had entered the room, and then the darkness had claimed him. He had struggled, had heard them speaking, and distantly he remembered saying something, but what? 

"Answer!" the King shouted angrily, his face reddening. He was being shaken, the King's nails biting into his raw and bleeding shoulders, causing sparks to appear in front of his eyes. He was so cold… and the room started spinning, too. Battousai knew his focus was slipping away, he was losing control and succumbing to the numbing darkness again, escaping the torture that just breathing was. His thoughts lost their coherency, all he knew was that her eyes sparkled, so beautiful when she was angry… spirited, lively… her true name… she didn't know her name… 

"Answer me! Battousai!" She shook him harder, his eyes slowly fading, losing their amber shine, dulling, a blue hue appearing at the outer rim of his iris. 

My name… I know it. You don't know yours, but I can't tell… not yet! he wanted to say, but his body had lost its connection to his mind almost completely now, save for the pain that was still present and shoving him farther into the twilight opening up in front of him. The veil of darkness separating his center of peace from the world had grown thin indeed, and he distantly wondered if this was because his life was following his consciousness in slipping away, fading… 

"You _will answer_! Or I'll have you killed!" But he didn't. His eyes had closed again, impossibly blue at the last moment, dark, delft blue, a reminder of Akai the donzel. The King was livid. 

"He is a stubborn one, young King. He will not speak to you." Soundlessly, the Chain Master had appeared again, his luminous gaze taking in the redness in Kamiya's face, the King's balled fists and flashing eyes. 

"He won't speak to me? Fine! Then he will die! I will have him executed publicly tomorrow, at noon. You can play with him until then!" 

*~* 

She was tired, more so than usual. Staying up late, studying the old scrolls about the healing techniques of the Ancient People, mixing new ointments when she should have rested after the King had called her drew the spidery thin lines of restlessness into the dark circles around her dulled brown eyes. She was too young to be so… thinned out, exhausted, but the illness she had been cursed with since she was born left her more susceptible to loss of sleep and lack of rest. After leaving unnoticed when the King had turned to the man named Hoji, she had gone back to her home at once. 

Sighing, she lifted the black veil from her head, pulled the pins that held her long, luscious hair up on her head out and sank down onto the soft mattress of her bed. The medicine woman was the most skilled in her field, a girl who had been raised by nuns and understood the languages of the Ancient World, who had run from the seclusion of the cloister and had found a friend in the old woman who had rescued the thin child, blue with freezing and panting with the strain running and the winter cold had put on her, had taken her in and healed her with herbal teas before offering her to teach her. And the child had accepted the offer, studying with more concentration and effort than she ever had at the cloister, finally able to put her knowledge of Ancient Greek and Latin into good use as she translated the texts of Hippocrates and Paracelsus into the common language. It was her pet project, an endeavor so huge that she never really could see the end of it- even after several years now she hadn't translated more than one of the large volumes sitting on her shelves into her neat, tiny handwriting. Still, she held onto her dream- if more people, especially healers, could read of how the Ancients cured illnesses and cared for wounds then perhaps the image of healers overall would turn away from the 'witch' and 'wizard' picture and to the scientists they really were. And perhaps people then would not die of things like the flu just because there wasn't anyone who administered willowbark tea or infusion of peppermint. 

The medicine woman allowed a smile to grace her lips that had been pressed together tightly in stress. She cleared a little space for her to work in- as neat as she tried to be, her cramped quarters didn't allow for separated writing and draught-mixing places. Parchment softly rustled as she turned a page in the book she was currently working on, and her swan-feather quill scratched thin lines of dark ink onto the surface. The properties of sage… a very soothing and sweet herb, and medically quite powerful. She knew a place in Dunkelwald forest where it grew quite abundantly- perhaps she should restock her supply? She loved the smell of fresh herbs in her house… and now she was getting distracted. Frowning, she focused her tired eyes on the dancing flow of the Greek text she was supposed to be reading when a knock on her door broke the last remnants of her concentration. 

"I'm coming- just give me a minute!" she called, reaching over to grab her veil. If people saw how young she was she was certain to be called a witch- eternal youth, it seemed, was part of the 'selling your soul to the devil'- package according to myth. 

"No need to hurry, the door was- oi, you're _young!" Rolling and imprecise, the man's accent hinted at a backland heritage, far from the centers of culture and learning, and thus a breeding ground for superstition and prejudice. She sighed again- in all likeliness she would have to invoke the protection of the King and hope he valued her enough not to let her end as kindling for the next town bonfire. _

"What is it?" she asked, trying to control her racing heart that was straining against her ribcage with the added fuel her fright lent. She knew she should not stress herself like that, that her heart could not keep up when she put it under duress like that, but she couldn't help but fear what she would have to face now. 

"I… I was just… the King wants you to come and look at a prisoner," he ended his stuttering attempt at conversation lamely. The medicine woman raised one slim, dark eyebrow questioningly. 

"A prisoner? I didn't think the King would ever call his personal doctor to see to a _prisoner_." She was shaking. Fortunately, the young soldier in front of her didn't seem to notice. 

"Well… you see, this is the one I told you about. The one who was involved in the trap incident as well," the soldier shifted nervously from one foot to the other. The presence of that startlingly beautiful young woman made him rather uncomfortable. 

"You have told me about- ah, I remember. You were the one who led me into the King's chamber, the one defending Battousai!" Her memory having returned she smiled at him. "You said he was a prisoner?" 

"He _is_ a prisoner, medicine woman… say, don't you have a name? I can't keep calling you medicine woman, can I?" 

"Why not? Everybody else calls me that," she answered flippantly, throwing some of her hair falling into her face back over her shoulder. 

"I… uh, forget it." The soldier was stuttering. 

"Perhaps you should tell me your name first? Or shall I go on calling you 'soldier'?" By now, a coy smile curdled pink lips, and the soldier's nervousness grew. 

"Uh… I'm Sanosuke. Sagara Sanosuke." His feet seemed a rather interesting object to study. 

"Well then, Sanosuke, I am called Megumi." It felt strange, uttering her name. Nobody had called her that since the death of her teacher. 

"Megumi," Sano nodded, grabbing her hand and eliciting a surprised gasp from her, "it's nice to meet you." He bowed politely. "Uh… say, could you come with me now? Kamiya's not too patient, and Battousai's not too well, so it'd be better if we're quick." 

She blushed and went to gather her first aid supplies. His deep, rich Baritone sounded in her ears, and her hand tingled where he had touched her. She shook her head. It's been too long since somebody thought of you as a woman if you're falling for a stupid soldier, she chided herself. 

He waited patiently for her to throw a few herbs and instruments into a black leather satchel, don the black veil and cloak and nod to him that she was ready. Although her face showed that she was tired Sano felt a pang of regret as she id it behind that hideous veil. She was so pretty… but then, that was her problem. Many would call her a witch if she went unveiled. It was bad enough as it was already. Though Sano's family lived on a small farm in the middle of nowhere his father had seen to it that his children learned at least how to read and write, something most peasants never bothered with, and during his time with the Sekihoutai he had seen enough cases of religious fanaticism and prejudice to make him seethe with rage- how could people be so blind and stupid? The Sekihoutai had done their best to enlighten the people, but there were too few of them and too many advocates of blindness. The way the young medicine woman had trembled when he had seen her without her veil attested to it that Megumi herself had been a victim of that blindness at least once too often already. 

"Well, are we leaving or are you going to perforate the air with your contemplating stares any longer? It doesn't appreciate it at all." 

"Huh?" Sano didn't really understand what she wanted to tell him, but he quickly caught himself and invited the medicine woman to come along with a wave of the hand.  
"So, are you going to tell me who this prisoner I am to help is, what his problems are and how he got into prison?" she asked, rolling her eyes in the secrecy of her veil at the young soldier's denseness. 

Sano lowered his head- and snapped it up fast enough to provoke whiplash. The medicine woman… she was young. She possessed a brilliant mind. And she was willing to listen to him… inklings of a plan formed in his mind, and a sly little smile played around the corners of his mouth. He would answer her question- and perhaps the injustice she suffered as the medicine woman would have sensitized her enough to see the innocence of another, and to help when she could. 

"The prisoner is Battousai. He has been burnt, shot, whipped and otherwise tortured. How he got into prison… well, I think it was because he shielded the King against the fire spreading from the amphorae filled with a highly flammable substance, which is almost impossible to extinguish." No emotion was betrayed in his voice, though his rolling accent became more prominent and his tone dropped a few notches. 

"Greek Fire?" The medicine woman only sought to verify her suspicions. 

"I believe that's what it's called. Anyways, I only came when the fight was almost over, so I didn't see much. But then…" Sano continued to relay what he had seen and heard, sparing nothing and aiming to be objective about his report. If Battousai came out a little better than his opponents it was not because of him… 

"But… this rather points towards his innocence!" Megumi gasped, hurrying her steps to keep up with Sano's long strides. 

"So?" Sano asked dryly, causing the lifting of an eyebrow on the medicine woman's part. 

"So he shouldn't have been… so he shouldn't be where he is," she said, panting, and slowing down as her breath hitched in her throat. Damn her weakness! 

"That's what I said when we last met, didn't I?" Sano pointed out. He was getting irritated at the cynical, know-it-all behavior that woman exhibited. 

"We have to do something about this- perhaps…" Sano grinned. 

"Perhaps you are thinking what I'm thinking. Tell me!" She did. 

*~* 

The way down to and through the dungeon tested the limits of the medicine woman's strength. She was breathing heavily, sweating and stumbling slightly by the time she reached the circular cell Battousai was kept in for the moment. The Chain Master had not deemed it necessary to lower him from where he hung even though his legs had given up serving him and his wrists, chafed and bloodied as they were, had to bear all of his weight. He looked pale where his skin was visible, and, alarmingly, the leg wound didn't want to stop oozing thick, red liquid. He had lost too much blood to be conscious by now, Sano thought, and thankfully would not be awake when Megumi treated him. 

"Why haven't you told me it's _that_ bad? I just hope my supplies will suffice… he's really, really bad off. You!" She furiously turned to the Chain Master who had appeared behind them in his customary prowling manner, "get him down there. The King has ordered me to treat him! And then… go away and don't come back tonight!" She was livid. There couldn't be anyone but that creep who was responsible for this. 

The chains clanked loudly, some mechanism protesting being moved with a groan before they suddenly gave, thumping the unconscious assassin unceremoniously onto the floor. The Chain Master slinked by them with a hateful look, but he didn't dare speak out against an order of the King- he could play with this one tomorrow morning before his execution. Meanwhile, there was another subject he hadn't played with for a long time… 

Sano turned the limp body of Battousai around until he came to lie on his back. As bad off as that was, they had to tend to his leg first, even he with his limited knowledge knew that. The medicine woman tuttered while rummaging through her supplies, murmuring strange words in a foreign tongue while discarding one bundle of herbs after the other. At last, she pulled out a small pouch filled with a whitish powder. 

"Alright, that should do once that dart is out… it stills the flow of blood. Then we have this… to reduce fever, and this, to disinfect." She arranged the substances neatly on the floor. 

"You… are going to… take it out?" The voice was so weak it was barely above a whisper, shaky and scratchy and followed by a retching cough. "Thank you." 

He couldn't even open both of his eyes, and the one that was open stared at them so unfocusedly that the medicine woman wondered whether he saw anything at all. Bright amber in color it was startling nonetheless, burning through her until it could look deeply into her soul. She shuddered at the thought of what he might see there, and quickly averted her gaze. She hadn't expected her patient to wake up- but then, rumors said Battousai liked to defy the odds and make the impossible possible. 

"You will have to hold him down, Sanosuke. He can't move when I pull it out. It doesn't seem to have any barbs, but then, it's in quite deep, perhaps even scratched the bone." She was all focused now, forgetting about amber eyes searching her soul while she cut the fabric of Battousai's tight-fitting trousers open to ease access to the wound. Sano hissed through his teeth as he looked at the sturdy wooden projectile that was as thick as his index finger. His hands steadily cleaned his friend's face with a cool, wet towel he had brought along with a bucket of fresh water. Akai seemed to appreciate the effort, as he gave him a feeble smile of gratitude that turned into a grimace too soon as he clenched his teeth against the agony ripping through him. 

"No. Didn't… so deep." He struggled to speak, and his hold onto consciousness was fickle at best. His hand twitched weakly at his side, spasms born from the pain that was deeply etched into his face. 

"Then it's good. Sano, hold his leg. On three…" A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and once again she was submitted to the intent gaze of a golden eye. 

"Thank you," he murmured, squeezing her shoulder as though he wanted to reassure her. Had he felt her nervousness? Did he know that his was the first time she dealt with injuries like his? And if he knew, how could he show such faith in her? 

"I'm ready," Sano announced quietly. She nodded, tore herself free of Battousai's hypnotic eye and silently prayed to every Kami and all the Healers of old not to let her down. Her countdown was so quiet that even Sano couldn't hear it before she gave the dart a mighty pull, putting all her weight behind her slender arms. 

Battousai's body jerked, his leg muscles twitched, his eyes were shut tightly and a moan escaped tightly clenched teeth and white lips. He almost lost the fight against the beckoning darkness again, but this time his will was stronger and he stubbornly persisted. Anger helped him along the way- being angry with the King for putting him into this situation, angry with himself for being so stupidly slow, angry with Sano for not being there earlier, angry at the world for shaping him into what he had become… 

"Whoa! Akai, stop it! You're blowing all that powder stuff out of your wound again, and you need it!" Sano tried to reach his friend, who was emitting a frighteningly strong wind that not only buffeted the medicine woman's veil and robes but also sent the pouches and bundles of herbs flying. Dimly, he was aware of his _ki_ reacting to his anger, and with a mighty effort he managed to calm down enough to stop the winds. 

"What _is_ he?" the medicine woman asked, shaking her head, panting slightly while moving to retrieve her supplies, "he really should consider going to BAM1!" Sano could only nod. Battousai really should think twice about exploding like this in his condition. 

"No more of your little air manipulation, Battousai," Megumi admonished sharply, "you're going to need all your energy later, believe me." He didn't look like he would try anything anytime soon- the pallor to his skin had increased, more visible now that his face was cleaned of blood, soot and dirt. 

She deftly wrapped the cleaned and salved wound in bandages that had been boiled in clear spring water and kept between sacks of lavender, needing several layers as blood seeped quickly through the first few. 

"Now for the rest of it… turn him around so that he lies on his side," the medicine woman instructed Sano. 

"That… isn't a good idea. Two of my ribs are broken," Battousai gasped, feeling the sting of the astringent medicinal salve bite deeply into his leg wound. The medicine woman sighed. Work was going to be more tedious and take longer than she had planned. 

*~* 

"The King has found his little surprise?" A chuckle, then the rustling of parchment, or the newly invented _paper_. "Very good. I commend you for your efforts in our cause, Shishio. You have proven a very valuable asset once again- I hope you're not thinking about giving up your post as Gohei's assistant?" For the first time in weeks his sponsor spoke to him, his voice like the low keening of the north wind through barren trees. 

"After all the trouble I went through just to get it? No, my Lord, I won't give it up. After all, you will make me Minister of the Interior once you have taken your rightful place!" Shishio's eyes gleamed a manic red. All his plans came to a successful end sooner or later- it was just as good that this plan had succeeded on his first try. Hoji's trap had been a masterpiece, and even though that pathetic Kamiya boy had survived it had taken out the only real danger they faced- the master assassin Battousai. How that infuriatingly evasive man had managed to find out about their control over King Koshijirou stood to be determined- but that he had taken the brutal approach of removing him to be replaced with young and impressionable but strong-willed Kamiya had been a damper to their quest if there was any. 

"Make you Minister of the Interior? Certainly, my good Shishio, I will do this. Or would you rather have the position as my right-hand advisor and head of the Council of Elders? I could arrange that too…" the brittle laughter that permeated the strong, deep voice sounded purely for a second, "or I could offer you the two positions at once- valuable help is so rare these days, and I know you would never betray me to grab for power yourself, would you, Shishio? No, you're too intelligent for this. Dunkelländer are very, very traditional- they'll never accept a ruler who doesn't stem from the royal bloodline. There will be a revolution before you can even say the word. So you'll go for the second best, isn't it that way, my loyal friend?" 

Shishio calmly chose to remain silent. Meetings with his sponsor were always conducted in utmost secrecy, and never once had he seen the face of the man who was planning to overthrow Kamiya, the man whose agents were sowing the seeds of rebellion amongst the people of Dunkelland. He didn't even officially know his identity, though that had been easy enough for Hoji to find out. Contrary to this man's belief, the middle-aged strategist only worked for Shishio, faithfully reporting anything the man in the shadows ordered him to do or told him back to him. 

"I have pledged my loyalty to you, my Lord," he answered, purposefully neutral. 

"And you are, of course, known for never breaking your word? Well, then tell me, how is Battousai and when is he out of the picture for good?" A pale, strong-knuckled hand grabbed the mug full of an earthy-smelling, alcoholic beverage, the sound of its content disappearing in huge gulps filling the silence between the question and the answer. 

"My men report he's close to dying and will be executed tomorrow at noon, per order of the King." Shishio saw no use in withholding the information he himself had only obtained a few minutes before leaving for the notoriously shady pub he always met his 'Lord' in. 

"Very good… always a little rash, that little nephew of mine, but a good head on his shoulders… no wonder Koshijirou named him his heir even though he wasn't of age yet… would have been too easy otherwise. I bet the sly old badger suspected something… but then, I had his ear… he would even raise his son the way I told him… Shishio, why are you still here?" Lost in his musings the man behind the shadows had momentarily forgotten about Gohei's assistant still sitting across the table from him. Now, with an apology, the tall, pony-tailed man left, a look of disgust on his face as his cloak touched one of the more regular patrons of the pub. 

"Watch out, slime!" A very good minion indeed… he would be of use for some time yet. Dryly grinning, the thirty years younger brother of King Koshijirou studied his half-empty mug out of silver-gleaming eyes. Kamiya would fall, soon, and then Dunkelland would be _his_ and his alone. 

*~* 

Battousai was paler than ever before, panting heavily and trying to keep his face from showing his emotions even though he failed miserably. The medicine woman had cleaned, disinfected and bandaged all of his wounds- at least the deeper ones, as there weren't enough bandages available to wrap him from head to toe, Sano restraining him as his willpower failed to keep his muscles from twitching and jerking. He had stayed conscious- barely, clinging to the pain and fury in his heart to forget about the agony in his body. His eyes scrunched shut he tried to relax now, to gather enough strength to thank the soldier and the healer, but their words were faster than his efforts. 

"You can't stay here- the King will have you executed tomorrow, I heard someone say it on my way down here earlier," Sano blurted, studying the frail figure of the most feared man in all of Dunkelland. 

"I… know," he managed, working hard to steady the room as two faces dancing the Waltz around his head wasn't exactly the thing to relax him. 

"We will get you out of here. But you'll have to walk. Do you think you can?" Sano looked very doubtful. Battousai fixed his sternest gaze on him. 

"If need be, I'll… run out of here," he said, gasping in the middle of the sentence as a wave of agony crested over his head, almost forcing him under. 

"No need for that. We will help you as much as possible- just watch out for Kamiya, the Palace Guard and Saito. They seem to have a sixth sense where people are concerned." The medicine woman had abandoned her veil as it was in her way, brown eyes sparkling down into his. "He has quite a temper, Kamiya, but it helps him when it comes to things like these." 

"She," Battousai murmured weakly, eyes clouding over with an implacable emotion. He wasn't quite lucid, in a weird trance that lay between waking and sleeping. All he knew was that he could trust these two people with the most important secret of his life, contrary to his old rule of '_three can keep a secret if two of them are dead'. _

"She? What do you mean?" the medicine woman was the first to realize the implications of what Battousai had said. 

"She?" Sano looked startled, distraught. 

"She." Battousai affirmed, his voice unwavering now that the cat was out of the proverbial sack. Sano and Megumi looked at each other before returning their attention to him. 

"Explain." 

… to be continued … 

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_So sorry it is still going so slow- I have the chapters planned out and everything, it's just that my schedule's tighter than ever at the moment… do you think I should speed up the plot? I know I like to spend a lot of time on character interaction, but perhaps that impedes story progress too much? Now, I just hope you liked this chapter nonetheless (after all, there **was** a sighting of the plot in there!), but before we get to my favorite part here's some_

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**Information**

**_In obscuro_**_: Latin for: In the dark. I like Latin… can only read it though, writing and speaking are out of the question. _

**_Hippocrates_**_: Ancient Greek doctor. His oath persists until today and is to be taken by every aspiring physician. _

**_Paracelsus_**_: Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim 1493 - 1541 AD- famous Alchemist and Apothecary, believed in spiritual alchemy and didn't want to transform lead into gold but cure diseases. _

**_Kamiya and her/his pronomina_**_: Kaoru and everybody besides Kenshin think she's male and address/think of her that way. As soon as somebody knows she's female, the address will change to female form. For the moment, though, she harbors the firm belief that she's a man, and she will have some trouble accepting the truth- if you grow up believing something it's hard to let go of that belief, after all. _

**_1B.A.M._**_: Battousai anger management… _

_Alright, that's it for info- hope you're not bored out of your mind because now it's off to my favorite, and I feel so glad to say that you really seem to like Romancing the King so far- so here's the _

**Reviewer's corner**

**CurlsofSerenity**: First of all, thanks for your e-mail concerning your new chapter. It's a wonderful idea! My twin has been very helpful with this chapter again- he's dissecting one of the fish in his aquarium that died of unknown causes at the moment so he can help me with anatomy (it's really for a science project for 'Jugend Forscht'- he's studying the reproductive cycle of cichlids of the variety _sterbaii_), and thanks you for saying he's twisted- he likes that! Hope to see you around!!! 

**Hiromi**: Wow, thanks a lot for all your praise and your wonderful reviews! I love them, especially your critique! I have been influenced by Thomas Mann a little, a _very wordy German writer who though nothing of filling a page with a single sentence- I tried to be better this time around and keep my sentences shorter. Holidays, yes- in three week's time already! I'm going to stay at home and do nothing but what I want to- until the last week when it's studying again. There will be a chapter a week of this story for the moment, as I have hit a wall with Shadow's light, my other story… I hope to get to the romance soon! By the way- your favorite sentence is exactly the one I wrote my chapter around. I occasionally have a sentence in my head that is crucial to a story, and I need a whole chapter to get it across… I'm so delighted you picked it as your favorite! _

**Zeh Wulf**: Not cracking yet! *evilgrin* But there's a new twist- evilness abound. My twin has a field day writing me little horrors I can put into my story. Saito _is_ suspicious- I can tell as much because it would be totally OOC for our favorite wolf to be complacent and let everything happen. The Palace Guard will have their hands full, oh, and Aoshi will have a surprise coming up! *rubs hands* _In these final hours_ is getting better and better- I can't wait until I can read the next chapter (9) to see how you tied it all together. Damn school! Want free time! *grins* Guess I'm a bit too emotional at the moment- it's Christmas time!!! 

**allin656**: Uh… yes, it's going to take time- I'm never good at hasted relationships (even though they can be fun to write as they tend to explore the 'what comes after' really good….). 

**teddy grahms**: Hope you'll read on even after the ending of this chapter *hides* 

**Nanakilover/Brukaoru**: I have tried to clear up the he/she thing in my annotations above- it's confusing even for me because I keep wanting to type 'she'! Thanks for reviewing and liking my story! 

**kitty-jinx**: Yikes, so many reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I will write as fast as I can and will not let Chrissy whine for too long!!! 

**Natsuko**: My twin pesters me into writing at the moment- he loves his cameos of evil. His character is absolutely horrible- he drew me a picture and I was like 'Ugh- that's what you want me to write?' He grinned and wrote me an introduction line, and I took it from there. I am a little winded at the moment, seeing as everybody seems to want a piece of me, but there's no giving up. I always think of what my parents have to do, with all the organizing and working, and I am grateful that my life is comparatively easy. Thank you so much for your encouragement- it gives me strength and happiness, and I run around glowing the whole day when I get your reviews! 

**Felina**: Wow, you blow me away with all your praise! Just one question (yes, I'm unbelievably stupid and have a bad common knowledge): Who is Nero Wolfe? A writer? And what did he write? Okay, this were three questions, so I'm going to stop now. Thanks!!! 

**predestinedsoul**: She is under the assumption that she is a man, so she thinks getting her period is normal for males. It's all the upbringing… but I will explain more later in the story. Thanks for your insight, though- I almost forgot about it!!! 

**Special thanks to**: **EnjeruJoshin **and **Ari and Kat**- I'm doing a little jig in your honor 'cause you put me on your 'favorites' list!!! 

**All my readers**: Thank you ever so much!!! 

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_So this is it until next week! Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	10. Goodbye but not farewell

_Ciao!!! _

_Uh… sorry again about the delay, especially since it isn't caused by me being busy this time. It's just that, in spite of a promise I made, I couldn't bring myself to write. My beta reader, who also is my first cousin once removed, died on me. Literally. She's got told that she's got cancer, in her spine and brain, and a life expectancy of six months. I was in a bit of a shock for a few days- even my teachers commented on me behaving strangely, and that's something noteworthy because they usually are just resigned to having 'that weird kid' (it's what they call me at conferences. I overheard) in their class. She's my role model, has been living on the fast lane for the past eighteen years of her life- and she won't even live to see her nineteenth birthday. Hence the unedited state of the last chapter- N. says she can't concentrate enough to catch spelling and grammar mistakes (at least she still helped me with my style- her being a writer for a newspaper makes her style a much clearer, cleaner one than mine and I'm infinitely grateful for all her help)- she is in constant pain from her chemo and ray therapies and generally very weak. The center that regulates subconscious breathing in her brain is affected, so she is monitored 24/7. She made me promise I will finish my stories for her since she won't be able to finish hers (she writes in German). I will do this, in honor of my beloved cousin- it's all I can do for her now. She'll give me tips as long as she can, but I still need a new beta. Any volunteers??? Just e-mail me if you're interested… anyways, I just had a lot to work through and now present you with the next chapter of Romancing the King! _

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"…." Denotes talking 

….. denotes thinking 

*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place 

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**_This chapter is dedicated to my twin brother Ryan, for the invention of the most horrible character of the Chain Master and his inestimable help with writing the darker moments of this story. He has made these last three chapters as intensely evil as they are- thanks for being a master at anatomy and describing a body's reactions, Ry! I guess all our accidents and all these hours of playing Diablo II do have their good after all… _ **

**Chapter 10 **

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**Goodbye but not farewell **

"Explain!" The demand was unconditional. Battousai shivered in response, trying to tighten himself into something more protected, like a ball, feeling the warmth Megumi's ministrations had left behind evaporate as the dungeon's chill grabbed at him yet again. 

"It's… not that much, really. Kamiya… is a girl. A woman. She… was just raised to believe that she's male." It was colder than ice- the stones burned into the bandages around his torso, and through what was left of his skin. It took all of his considerable willpower to keep his teeth from chattering as he forced the words through blue and unresponsive lips. A part of him, the rational part, the assassin part that wasn't instinct, calmly announced to him that he was going into shock- a little belated, but the reaction was there. Now that he couldn't flee into unconsciousness and the worst of his wounds had been tended to there was nothing preventing the brain from experiencing the aftermath of an adrenaline infusion of gigantic proportions- it was like an addict going through withdrawal, only from natural causes. It left him drifting and disoriented, dizzy and weak. His limbs lost the feeling in them, turning into useless lumps of tingling lead that hung from his small frame. 

"A girl. Our King. And you expect me to believe that? I mean, if she's a she, then why's she killing, torturing, imprisoning, humiliating people left and right? Girls are compassionate, mate!" Sano blurted out. 

"I had my suspicions- Kamiya's need for pain relieving and sleeping draughts always centered around one week per month. Extraordinary how she could have been raised to be so… male," the medicine woman mused, clearly mulling over the possibilities of studying an interesting specimen like the King. "I understand now why I was never allowed to touch her, why I was blindfolded and why she always described the symptoms of whatever was ailing her to me. Even through the bandages around her chest I would have clearly noticed her to be female. Interesting indeed… Koshijirou was a crafty man, if nothing else." 

"He… was, right." Battousai fought for control over his trembling limbs. His muscles spasmed, stressed beyond the breaking point, and pain shot like white-hot flashes of lightning through his nerves with every single move. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer, but there were a few things he still needed to communicate to the two surprise helpers that had found him. Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead, he thought, trying to overcome his natural distrust of everyone but himself. 

"I saw… Kamiya's birth. My grandmother… was a midwife, she helped the Queen, and then… it was not a son she bore, but a daughter. I… heard her being named by her mother, hidden… behind a screen. Then… the Queen died and Koshijirou… decided he had a son. Koshijirou… killed all who knew. My grandmother and I had to die. I was a small… boy then, and he… ordered his Captain of the Guard, Hiko Shimajirou, to kill me. The captain… let me escape. I am the only one who… knew, until I told you." He caught his breath again, ignored the fuzziness that distorted his sight. 

"You watched the King's birth?" Sano looked at the shivering assassin who seemed even younger than ever as he lay helpless before him. It was impossible that he remembered the King's birth- he couldn't be that much older than Kamiya. 

"So what's her name then?" the medicine woman asked, a sparkling flame of interest lighting her cinnamon colored eyes. Battousai coughed, trying to free himself from the grasp of the shock that shook his body. 

"She… is called Kaoru. Sweet, scented grass…" he drifted off, amber eyes falling close as his resistance faded into nothing. 

"He may not sleep yet," Megumi, the medicine woman, instructed the young soldier who looked horrified at the shallowly breathing Battousai. 

"Oi, wake up!" Sano shook him. His eyes flew open, huge and glazed over by exhaustion. He had gone beyond pain as Sano's actions had startled him enough to make his fight-or-flight- instincts take over again. 

"We are going to get you out of here," Sano promised, holding the flailing assassin down. Battousai drew a shaky breath and stilled. 

"How?" he asked scratchily, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, "I am not sure how well I can walk." 

"Oi! You told me you would run out of here just a few minutes ago," Sano protested, a serious look on his face to contradict his light-hearted tone. "Don't worry, we have a plan, right, Megumi?" 

"You are going to get my clothes," the medicine woman offered, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she took in the rags that had once been a nice, clean outfit and now barely covered the most essential parts of Battousai's body. 

"I cannot pretend to be you," Battousai deadpanned, blinking up at a torch flickering in its holder on the wall. 

"I have a little… problem with my heart. If I seem weak, or even stumble around a little, the soldiers will help me to my hut. From there, you will have to run as I can't risk helping you any more- there are too many people walking in and out of my home to keep you there. You will have to take your chances with Dunkelwald, but as I'm sure they don't call you the '_Demon from the Woods_' for nothing these are quite good, aren't they?" 

"They are. But I'm still chained." His wrists, encased in iron rings, clanked together as if to enforce his point. 

"No problem," Sano grinned, pulling an iron stake from beneath his cloak, "Megumi taught me about leverage." 

Battousai groaned. "Do it quick," he asked, tightly closing his eyes and bracing himself as Sano inserted the slender lever between his thin right wrist and the iron shackle. Surprisingly enough, Sano only took a second to twist and pull before the constricting manacle fell away. Grinning into Battousai's surprised face Sano repeated the process with his left hand. Finally freed, Battousai brought his hands to the front and gently massaged the tender wrists to get the blood flowing again. 

"Thank you." Sano grinned broadly. 

"No problem, my friend." The medicine woman tuttered. 

"You have to go now. Here, take this for a start," she handed him her long, black cloak. He refused to take it as something he had not considered beforehand occurred to him.  
"What about you?" Battousai seemed determined to be stubborn. The medicine woman sighed. 

"She is wearing a maid's outfit underneath her robes. She will pretend to be my… girlfriend." Sano actually blushed speaking these words. 

"We have to act fast- you will be executed at noon tomorrow if I know anything about King Kamiya. She has a very vindictive streak…" the medicine woman trailed off, being as the side effects of Kamiya's vindictive streak were vividly displayed in front of her. Swallowing hard, she collected her thoughts and her wits. "If only I had known about all this earlier- I might have prevented some of… this happening," she wistfully sighed. 

"The letters in _if are the middle letters in life," Battousai said, a reminiscing and faraway look on his pale and drawn features. "Life is full of ifs. But once the moment has passed, it's no use to dwell on what might have been." _

"Where have you picked _that_ up?" Sano asked, slightly put off by the fact that even in his rather miserable state Battousai spouted words of wisdom and sharp intellect. The assassin smiled, grimacing slightly as Megumi touched his leg to add another layer of bandages. 

"Someplace or the other." Sano didn't pry any further, from Battousai's tone of voice it was clear he wouldn't give a more definite answer. 

"Are you ready to leave Dunkelland Castle?" the medicine woman asked, her tone of voice deliberately light even though she knew what she was asking of the badly injured man in front of her. Closing his eyes to keep control he nodded and sat up. A small cry was all that spoke of the extreme discomfort he was in as he painfully got to his feet. 

"Are you sure you can walk, Akai?" Sano carefully held the panting assassin up by his shaking shoulders. 

"I won't have a choice," Battousai said coldly. Sano looked hurt and put off at being so harshly pushed away. 

"Wear this," the medicine woman had slipped out of her wide cloak and robes, handing them to Battousai together with her black veil, "and be fast about changing. That nice Master of the Chains, or whatever he calls himself, could be back any minute now." 

In spite of having never been good at following orders Battousai got dressed in his disguise in under three minutes. "Show me the way out," he demanded from Sano, keeping his voice so low it was barely above a whisper to hide the fact it sounded different from Megumi's. He swayed and could hardly stand on legs that were consisting more of jelly than of actual muscle and bones, but he moved. 

Sano and Megumi followed close behind the limping assassin- his right leg refused to carry as much weight as it should, no matter how hard he tried to force it to. Several suspicious glances sent a new wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins, making Battousai straighten up and only use one hand to steady himself against the walls. An endless trek through the dungeons finally took him and his two companions up into the sunlight, or what would have been the sunlight had not the night already fallen. 

"Just go through this door here and you'll be outside the wall fifty feet from my home," the medicine woman told her patient. Amber eyes glittered with a hint of emotion- the first she had ever seen in them- as he nodded and left wordlessly, his limp more pronounced now that he had almost escaped Dunkelland Castle. 

"What is going on here?" Unnoticed by all of them, a tall, imposing figure had come near. Sano recoiled in shock, his arm, which had been around Megumi's waist in a pretense of closeness pulling her with him back against the wall. 

"We were just… seeing the medicine woman out. She has treated whomever she had to treat and was now to return to her home, Sir," Megumi answered quickly, her heart straining against her ribs in an effort to overcome her fright. Thankfully, the slight, stumbling figure of Battousai had already vanished into the darkness, and since nobody at the castle had ever seen her face she was just another of the mostly anonymous maids populating Dunkelland Castle. 

"Is that true, soldier?" Saito's predatory gaze held the young, unwilling soldier captive in its intensity. Sano felt the heat rise up in his cheeks and only hoped that the chief of the King's intelligence forces would attribute that to his being caught in the company of a beautiful girl. 

"It is, Saito, Sir." He could not meet his superior's inquiring stare any longer and instead studied the intricate folds his hold on Megumi's garments caused around her waist. 

"Hn." Less than satisfied the wolfish officer stalked off, turning around once or twice to see whether he could catch the two younger people at some forbidden activity. The gnawing suspicion that something was amiss in the castle bit at Saito's insides with a vengeance. There was something going on… and that something involved Battousai as well as parties unknown. Saito didn't delude himself enough to think that the red-haired demon had actually made a mistake that allowed him to be caught- no, he had wanted the King alive, and that meant he hadn't been the one to set the trap. The reconnaissance officer snorted briefly. Battousai being sentimental, saving someone he fought against as far as everybody knew… there had to be something behind all this, and he thought he had an inkling of what that might be. Right now, however, he would only speak to Aoshi- perhaps the captain of the Palace Guard knew something he didn't. Still pondering Battousai's strange behavior and Kamiya's mysterious enemy he left the young soldier and his lover to their own devices. As raven-haired and red-lipped as that girl was the young man certainly had had a hard time restraining himself when his officer had surprised him… 

Sano held his breath the entire time it took Saito to round the faraway end in the corridor before he exhaled with a mighty sigh and slumped against the wall. 

"That was close," he breathed. Megumi leaned against the cool stones sweating small, glittering pearls of moisture beside him. 

"It was a very risky operation," she admitted, aiming to calm her racing heart that threatened to explode out of her suddenly too constricted chest. "I have to rest," she gasped, feeling the first irregularities in its beating. 

"I will walk you home, medicine woman," Sano said with a twinkle in his eyes, offering her his arm for support. She grasped it without a second thought. 

*~* 

The sharp night air tore at the exposed skin of his body, stinging sharper than poisoned needles in his wounds. He had disposed of the medicine woman's robes in her home- she had helped him escape and even though he was cool and calculating he wasn't cruel enough to get her into more trouble than absolutely necessary in repayment. He didn't know yet whether he would make it, the leaden feeling spreading through his limbs had almost arrived at his head, signaling his nearing collapse. He couldn't be caught wearing her clothes. Still, he missed the warming comfort of her cloak. 

Running was worse than he had imagined. No measure of preparation could make his tired mind able to stand the numbing agony his body had become to be disrupted with sharp flares of white-hot pain with each step. Battousai groaned silently, muffling the sound behind the shredded fabric of what had remained of his donzel's uniform cloak. He felt as though he had just completed the marathon when he could still catch glimpses of the castle's imposing outer walls just behind the thin line of trees he had brought between him and his execution at the hands of King Kamiya. 

She wouldn't dirty her hands with your blood, a part of him scoffed. He dismissed the thought for later, turning his attention to the outside world as he stumbled deeper into nighttime Dunkelwald. The forest was a cacophony of sound and smell, his sense of sight less impaired than the average human's by the loss of light but still reduced significantly so he couldn't rely on it. Battousai knew the woods, and the creatures dwelling in them. He was not in danger from them- the only hunters he had to fear were those walking on two legs. 

I was the most dangerous hunter of all once, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as the path grew less distinct and the wilderness started to claim him. The dry, musky smell of a fir grove attracted him, promising not only a good hiding place but also relatively soft ground he could rest upon. He was bone-weary, parched, and beyond feeling what his body signaled him. Battousai was about as dangerous as a fawn at the moment, and the closely- knit little cluster of slender trees would protect him. It would mask his scent with its own spicy one and would hide his coloring within the reddish-brown coating of needles on the ground. Decision made Battousai blindly followed his nose. 

Images of the past danced in front of his burning eyes, the harsh panting of a small child intermingling with that of the adult. He had traveled this way before. And he had found shelter before. He could do it again. He just had to trust himself, and his instincts, and… the world had just acquired a distinct tilt he could not explain. Battousai spent the last few moments of lucidity wondering why the trees suddenly grew horizontally to the ground, then he stopped thinking and just fell. I have to hide myself, he thought, however, he was unable to carry out his thought. 

*~* 

King Kamiya furiously paced the entire length of his chamber for the twenty-sixth time since leaving the dungeons. He was in a state between sanity and lunacy, driven closer and closer to insanity by the proximity of answers and his apparent inability to gain access to them. Battousai's mind was a treasure vault- but as such its guards were strong, and the walls around it were not breaking down easily. From the looks of it physical torture did next to nothing to aid the young King in his quest to unravel the mystery of his father's death and his country's state of upheaval. Battousai was to strong a man to give in to pain- but perhaps some recesses of his mind weren't as well-guarded and susceptible to attacks? Maybe the King could worm his way into what he wanted to know by entering from the _inside_? 

He has always watched me strangely, Kamiya thought, recalling all these intense stares 'Akai' had heaped upon him with his delft blue eyes. He might be… vulnerable if he… The King shook in anger at himself. If his father had as much as caught a whiff of his train of thought he would not have been able to move for a month. Being attracted to other males was absolutely unacceptable. 

And I am _not! he concluded forcefully, slamming his fist against the wall. A piece of brittle plaster flaked off, landing on the knuckles the King had torn in the process and rapidly staining red. _

I still wonder… Battousai has looked at me _that_ way, the way my father described a potential mate would look at me. Perhaps I can exploit that… it doesn't mean I am attracted to that murderer _at all_! A cruel smile curled the King's upper lip. Time for another visit to the dungeons- I think my medicine woman has finished her treatment of that demon scum. 

The way down to the Master of the Chain's lair was much shorter than Kamiya remembered- or perhaps it was just that he had a driving force stronger than before behind his steps? Striding briskly into the circular playground his father's most hideous servant had created the King balled his hands into two tight fists. It would cost him some concerted effort to actually play at _liking_ the monster- but perhaps he could turn that shred of pity he felt at thinking of the torn body of the assassin into something that resembled… 

The chains were empty. The lay upon the ground, still glinting wetly in the fickle light of the single torch that hadn't yet burned down, an eerie reminder of the thing that was no longer there. King Kamiya felt his throat constrict. Not again… it was impossible. He could not have done it _twice_. Dunkelland Castle was not a convenience store one could walk in and out of without any effort at all. Battousai certainly could not be far. Perhaps the Chain Master had…? 

"Where is he?" Kamiya screeched, his cry resounding off the walls like the wails of a ghost. Nobody answered, strangely enough. The instruments of the Master of the Chain's trade stood silent with their unsettling promise. The torch flickered, smoke rising from the tip of its yellow flame. 

"Where. Is. He?" The King's voice rose to previously unthinkable levels. Nails bit into the fleshy parts of his palms, five red half-moons on each slowly dripping the viscous fluid down the slender digits that had caused them. The chains clanked once as a cold wind swept down from the ceiling and through the dungeon. Still, everything remained as calm and silent as before. The torch flickered again as the wind reached it, shadows of disfigured fantasy beasts dancing along the walls instead of the haunting machinery they represented, then it died out, dousing the King of Dunkelland in Darkness. 

New shadows arrived, carrying the light of fresh torches with them. The Master of the Chains returned to his lair, summoned by his liege's cry. He could not trust his eyesight it seemed, for after setting his twin torches into the holders on the wall he went over to the chains that had bound Battousai, touching them, feeling the still-slick blood from the man's wrists on them. Despair showed in his lantern eyes, the snarl of a wild beast ripping through his teeth like the hissing of an attacking snake. 

"He is gone. She made me lower him to the ground, and he broke his chains. He is a demon, a demon! I could not break him before, but I had such great plans for him! She made me promise not to come back, and now he is gone!" By now, the Master of the Chains looked ready to dissolve in tears over the loss of his favorite toy. He cradled the broken manacles to his chest, blinking wildly and snarling as though he had gone mad. 

"Calm yourself. We will bring him back, and I promise you will have your fun with him," Kamiya was clearly disgusted at his servant's antics. What had ridden his father to create that lunatic from what, at some point in history, must have been a human being? 

"Bring him back?" Somethind akin to lust shone in the unfathomable, repulsive yellow eyes. 

"Yes." The King stormed from the dungeons, shouting for Saito to join him in the planning room and for Aoshi to summon every single available and able-bodied person in and around the castle. This time, the hunt for Battousai would be taken to a whole new scale. 

*~* 

Sanosuke followed the summons immediately, eager to avoid being put into the spotlight to give Battousai a better head start on his pursuers. Side by side with a grizzled old soldier, he listened to Kamiya rant about her archenemy escaping her grasp once again, heard her call for vendetta and rallying her forces which, admittedly, were not in such a great state. It was late at night, and the soldiers who had not been on duty were more than slightly drunk while those who _had_ been on duty were rather tired, trying to hide their yawns behind the wide sleeves of their cloaks. 

"Battousai gone again? I wonder…" he heard the imposing, gray-haired man next to him murmur while his stance shifted so that his large, though rather lean, hand came to rest upon the intricately designed hilt of a longer-than-average _katana_. 

"A penny for your thoughts?" Sanosuke offered as quietly as possible. The large soldier's head swiveled until a penetrating gaze out of dark olive green, almost black eyes came to rest upon him. 

"I won't sell that cheaply," he scoffed under his breath, "however, I am going to give you a piece of my mind for free: never trust appearances!" 

"I don't," Sano bristled, rather annoyed at the man's superior attitude. "I'm not stupid!" 

"I wouldn't have thought that stupid was your name, but thanks for confirming that for me," Sano's neighbor shot back, his eyes darkening with amusement. "However, I would like to ask for your name in return for the piece of my mind I gave to you." A slight incline of the head took the barb out of his words and Sano relaxed his tensed-up stance a little. Why not offer a truce? 

"Sanosuke. Sagara Sanosuke, but everyone calls me Sano." 

"Shimajirou. Hiko Shimajirou, former captain, now soldier," the older soldier said, not without a hint of bitterness in his voice. 

"Why were you demoted?" Sano was very interested in this seemingly bitter and hard man. 

"Battousai killed the King's father," was the answer. 

"Oh." Sano knew he would be treading on very thin ice if he further persecuted that topic, so he simply left the conversation hanging at that point and tried to find something of interest in the hot air Kamiya blew out of her- admittedly pretty- mouth. However, listening to the raging King who didn't really have anything to say was rather tiring, and Sano was very relieved when they were finally sent swarming into the grounds. He could have more fun deterring his fellow soldiers from finding Akai… 

"I wonder if he's really as bad as they all say, in case you're still interested in what I was thinking about earlier," his neighbor suddenly said before turning on his heels and joining the search. Sano stood dumbfounded, watching the tall, proud man's ramrod-straight back retreat. 

"That was surprise." 

*~* 

Hiko Shimajirou, who had once been the leader of King Koshijirou's guard, had been assigned the little-traveled direction of the looming, forbidding forest behind the medicine woman's hut. There was next to no indication that Battousai, injured as he was, would choose that most difficult of all paths to travel. Shimajirou, however, had nonetheless followed orders without complaint. He was very familiar with the small path leading into the forest, starting right at the castle walls. He had walked it more than once, every single time reminiscing about the memories it held for him- memories of fear, of courage and of his betrayal. Yes, he, the loyal servant of the royal line of Dunkelland had once stumbled in his duties and had neglected to carry out a straight order from his King. 

Wide delft-blue eyes flashed before his inner eye as Shimajirou studied the thickets to the right and left of the path. The child had been too innocent and courageous to be killed, so he had sent him on his way to his brother instead, a brother he had not spoken to in twenty-five years. 

I wonder if what I think has become of him is true- only to check up on that suspicion do I want to find Battousai, he thought, having long since made the connection between the rumors about a red-headed demon with a scar down his left cheek and a small, red-headed boy looking at him out of calm, dark eyes while a long slash on his left cheek oozed blood. Perhaps I am mistaken, but then, Battousai's speed and proficiency with his weapon certainly points towards my fool of a brother. 

"What…?" Shimajirou stumbled, the ensnaring roots of a fir tree grabbing at his ankles and bringing him down hard. The forest earth certainly had a bittersweet flavor to it, like the scent of freshly growing pine twigs. He couldn't say that he particularly enjoyed it, though. He rather abhorred it, to be honest. Spitting and swearing, he climbed to his feet only to halt in mid-motion. There was something awry in the nighttime forest. And it wasn't the cry of the wounded deer or the howl of the pack of wolves that was most likely responsible for aforementioned cry. No, it was more subtle, an underlying flavor to the air. A flavor, a scent… yes, a scent. A scent that didn't belong. Straining to identify it, Shimajirou sniffed the air. Amid the rich, deep smell of the firs next to him was a small hint of… burning. Burning, yes, and something even more subtle, something that, hadn't it been accompanied by the burning scent, wouldn't even have been out of place. 

Frowning, Shimajirou followed the scent of blood into the grove of firs, careful to light his way with the single torch he was carrying. He did not wish for a repeat performance of his fall. 

As he reached the middle of the little spot of dense growth the slender trunks of the comparatively young trees stood farther apart from each other, forming a small, irregularly shaped clearing covered in the soft coating of the old needles the trees had discarded. Shimajirou's brow wrinkled in concentration, the scents he had been following had become more and more pronounced, however, he had yet to find whatever the cause for them existing was. 

On first glance, he dismissed the lump at the edge of the mini-clearing as an irregular rising of the ground on the otherwise flat forest floor. Only a tattered piece of fabric glistening with an unknown fluid and lying close to the elevation made him take a closer look. What he saw made him shy back in revulsion. No way _this thing_ could be a human being and still alive. The sickening feeling in his stomach grew as his natural compassion overcame his initial reaction and he crouched down next to the unfortunate being. For the first time the full light of his torch flickered across the lump on the ground, caught and reflected off matted red hair. Shimajirou's breath caught in his throat as he carefully brushed the tangled strands of red aside, only to have the torch reveal the distinctive scar running all across the pallid face. Battousai had not even managed to run a whole mile from the castle. 

His hand reached out on its own accord, carefully touching the side of the young man's neck. A sigh of relief escaped Shimajirou's lips when he found a steady, albeit weak, pulse. So he was still alive… after all these years he had met him again. The boy who had lived- and still did. Anger flashed across Shimajirou's face as a closer scrutiny of the unconscious body in front of him revealed the true extent of his injuries. He had been treated, the bandages apparently fresh, but many of his wounds had reopened, or had perhaps never had the time to close, and the clammy, cold feeling of his skin under Shimajirou's fingers showed that he had lost enough blood to be on death's doorstep. 

"How… how could anyone let this be done to another human?" the gray-haired soldier hissed at the silent forest. No answer came, except for the rasping of Battousai's feeble breath. Looking at the boy in font of him the image of his mangled body was replaced with that of the little boy he had been, defiant and scared at once, staring at the much larger soldier before closing his eyes in acceptance of his fate. 'Are you going to kill me?' The image asked, 'I understand. It's not your fault. Granny is dead, too, so I won't be alone.' Tears came to Shimajirou's eyes as he remembered his own question. 

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" Shimajirou whispered, kneeling beside Battousai and intently watching the boy from his memory. The image-boy shook his head, standing over the still body of his adult self. 

'I know the name of the King's heir and I have to die.' He recalled the answer as clearly as if it had just been given to him, the outline of the translucent mirage from the past blurring as he wept over the fate of a little boy that had grown into the most feared man in a whole kingdom. The innocence he had possessed… that could not all be gone. Staring at the result of the child he had rescued falling into the hands of his King, Shimajirou felt for the first time that perhaps a secure position and stability was not everything. His decision made, he picked up the unresponsive body of the red-headed child- Man, he is a man now!- and headed into the forest. Battousai would not die- not as long as Hiko Shimajirou had any say in the matter. 

The forest was huge, dark, and cold at night. Shimajirou stumbled more than once, his torch having gone out about halfway through, but he caught himself every time, remembering that he would only damage his load should he fall. Shinta- or Battousai, as he called himself nowadays, had not stirred once, seeming to have fallen into a coma which, given the state he was in, was no surprise. That he had managed to move at all was a small miracle, let alone that he had fled from the castle and run half a mile on the uneven and treacherous ground of Dunkelwald. Shimajirou cursed the night, cursed the forest and cursed himself for just giving up on his career and his place in life. He had never been great, had been content with a mediocre existence, had never strived to become more like his brother and the child in his arms had. How could he have had such a change of heart, losing himself to the moment and forgetting all he had lived for? 

"It is you again," he spat at the frail body, "you and your memory and all that you stand for!" His anger was directed towards himself more than towards Battousai though- he could not believe he had been blind enough to follow a regime that allowed for people being treated the way the young shadow assassin had been treated. Using his fury as a driving force, Shimajirou lengthened his stride and quickened his pace. He would arrive at his destination soon… or perhaps now. Queasily he strode towards the black, square shape of the small wooden house. His stomach somersaulting with even more unease he tentatively lifted his hand. The door opened before he could knock, however, and with mild terror and great surprise Hiko Shimajirou found himself face to face with the tall, muscled figure of a man that resembled him more than he had remembered. 

"What do you want?" A gruff voice asked, calm power radiating from each word. 

"I think this belongs to you… brother," Shimajirou said carefully, holding out his arms and the load he was carrying. 

… to be continued … 

* * *

_Again, I am horribly sorry this is a whole week late. I would have had it out by Wednesday the last, but I only scored a 12(out of 15) on my last Math pop quiz, making my Dad take my computer away. He is very… obsessive when it comes to my Math scores- after all, how am I going to be a successful biochemist when I am not that good at Math? I had to make a 15-point score on the last big test to make him give me my laptop back, so sorry if the quality of this chapter is a bit substandard- I had to study a lot. I can't imagine what my family will do once I announce that I want to be a lawyer and not a scientist- the only one who knows so far is my twin who tries to encourage me… still, my whole family are scientists with an extreme dislike of lawyers and governments, something about a rebel tradition- they are going to explode. Being a lawyer doesn't mean to be subordinate, why can't they see that? So far, everyone assumes I will study biochemistry- it's Ry who wants to do that, not me! N.'s illness has increased pressure in that regard- now my aunt looks at me as well saying Ry and I might just be the ones to find that elusive cure for cancer. I am so tired of everything! Nothing I do ever satisfies my parents. It's not enough that I'm four years ahead at school- I should be better at sports; it's not enough that I maintain the highest average at my school in twenty years- I should do better in Math; it's not enough that I went to the finals in the last piano competition- I only scored third, that's not worth mentioning. My schedule's pretty hard already (go to my bio and see under my status report to get the idea), but **no**, it's not enough, I had to enroll in the next Jugend Forscht contest ( a science contest for young people in which they are to experiment, document their experiments and results and present all that). Ry does that for fun, but then, he weaseled out of skipping another grade and doesn't have as much work. I know I should be grateful that studying and scientific thinking come naturally to me, but I can't help but resent it all. I'd like to get to know the normal life of a fifteen-year-old for a change, for I'm sure it doesn't involve secretly looking for universities/law schools that will accept a barely sixteen-year-old and applying for scholarships. But then, I probably wouldn't care to write at all if I were normal, so that's the bright side of things! I beg you to excuse this rant- my emotions ran haywire throughout the last days, and I am nearing my breaking point with the workload I have to manage.It just felt too good to simply write it all down and get it out that way. So sorry again for the delay and everything, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed the last chapter at least a fraction of how much you enjoyed the last- seriously, so many reviews! I am beside myself with delight about this (even though I **am **a bit more subdued due to what happened to my cousin- so no squeaking [to Ry's great disappointment] and no little dances this time…__only great, big, face-splitting smiles__)! This is why I make this promise: the day my review counter hits 100 I will post the next chapter. The latest it will be up on Dec 22nd. It's already ¾ written so I should be fine with that promise… *grins* Now, to my __two __little finishing sections__!_

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**I think this belongs to you**_ is a direct quote from the Italian farmer who found Ry and me after we stumbled upon and down a Roman amphitheater. Ry escaped with a light concussion. I had ended up underneath him and had hit my head pretty hard as well as dislocated my shoulder. Repositioning **hurts**, believe me. Mom likes to quote this whenever either Ry or I have gotten into trouble, and I just thought it a fitting quote for a slightly bitter, unsettled old soldier when he handed something over to a brother he doesn't have the best relationship with._

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**Reviewer's corner **

**Zeh Wulf**_; *grins* I have great plans for 'Clueless Sano' ™... and you're onto something with your guesses. Argh! I knew I should not have posted after the loss of my beta, but I had not heard from her for three weeks and was growing desperate... hopefully this chapter is better, I tried my best on my own... *sniffs and cries over loss of N. and her biting cirtique*_

**CurlsofSerenity**_: We're paternal twins. Ry is my brother and loves to torture his little sister... Hope your eyes didn't burn out at thesight of my (rather nonexistent) jig-dancing abilities... _

**The Girl Who Cried Oro**_: WAI! You are great!!! Sorry, just had to get this out. Her 'feminine parts' are tightly bound, thus rather unnoticable. Ry's idea!!! *points at scowling twin*_

**Fallen Faerie**_: You really **speak** Latin? WOW! I only read it... I like Ovid's Metamorphoses (all about mythology!) and the Amores (decadence of the Roman Empire...). Have you read them? I especially like the rhythm dactyllic hexameters give to his storytelling._

**EnjeruJoshin**_: *watches dance and wishes she wasn't so clumsy* Urgh, first sighting of romance is... two chapters away. How about dancing together while we wait for the two to pull their act together??? _

**Nigihayami Haruko**_:I promise Shishio will get a slap in chapter 11- literally!!!_

**^_^**_: Thanks!!!_

**Natsuko**_: I'm not killing Megumi- never! She's just a bit weak, I needed her a little more feeble than the spunky foxy-woman. Am I getting into that habit of ending sentences with prepositions again? Means I have had too little exposure to English and too much to German since many German sentences end that way... have to read more. But my Dad insists I concentrate on Maths... ARGH! Ouchie, you seem to get into a lot of accidents as well... makes me feel better for being not the only stupid/clumsy/forgetful one... *grins* __How was your logarithms test? I had to do Taylor's series (a power series that gives the expansion of a function f (x) in the neighborhood of a point a provided that in the neighborhood the function is continuous, all its derivatives exist, and the series converges to the function in which case it has the form f(x) = f(a) + f[1](a)/1! (x - a) + f[2](a)/2! (x - a)2 + ... + f[n](a)/n! (x - a)n + ... where f **[**n](a) is the derivative of nth order of f(x) evaluated at a) on my last exam- nastynastynasty!!! I got the required 15 points though... so I got my laptop back from my Dad who had confiscated it because I got a 12 on the pop quiz before that... _

**flyinangel777**_: I myself was rather green when my twin presented me with the scenes he had written... I hope it was not too much though, and that you continue reading *glares at twin who just scowls*_

**bonessasan**_: ARGH! I misspelled your name! Talk about stupid... Sorry!!! *grins* I read up a little on psychology to make poor Kaoru downright miserable... thanks for everything!!!_

**allin656**_: Thank you! I also hope I will get over that stupid block with SL soon... I have rewritten chapter 19 about six times now and no version was even remotely acceptable... it remains a jumbled mass of small scenes! RAH! I WILL make that chapter work! Hope you enjoy RtK meanwhile... _

**The-Lone-Lemon**_: *grins* I think she will be cruel for a while longer yet... but don't worry, she'll become nicer in the end (I think)_

**Felina**_: Whee, thank you! I never read anything of either rex Stout or Robert Goldsborough... I'll be sure to check them out now, though! Thank you ever so much! I hope Megumi's way of getting round the castle is not too quaint... I couldn't think of anything better *blushes*_

**Hiromi**_: Thanks for all your encouragment- I really miss my beta! You are right about one thing: Christmas time is the worst time of the year. I never thought anything could be that stressful, but never say never... and then my Dad started acting up, too... hopw you can forgive me for being late!_

**Missaw**_: Thanks! Sorry for not updating faster but my computer priviledges were removed *scowls at Dad-tyrant*..._

**me**_: Hope you found the following chapters more clarifying... in the end, every single mystery will be solved, but there's still a lot of way to go until then!_

**ixchen**_: Thanks a lot!!!_

**all readers**_: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!!!_

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_Until next time! Cya!!!_

_Chibi-chan_


	11. Arrival of the Cavalry

_Ciao!!! _

_*grins* I managed to pull my act together and send those that volunteered the info on my (hopefully soon-to-be-written) Kenji story. I worked overtime this week, with the second round of Finals, no less than three concerts with my two orchestras and one piano concert my twin and I gave in an old people's home, planning for my class's graduation ceremony, a fencing show at my club for potential newcomers (Ry and I did theater fencing, copying the choreographies from Pirates of the Caribbean- our trainer said we were good enough!), an archery demonstration the next day, Christmas preparations, baking cookies, visiting my cousin in hospital after her last round of chemotherapy, my parents throwing a fit because I have taken up running as a stress relief in the mornings, sleep less and lost another three pounds, me throwing a fit as they want to ban me from running, Dad finally giving in provided I get on an extra-healthy diet (they say I eat too much chocolate for taking up another sport- where's the logic in that?), my twin laughing at me (he always puts on weight when he does sports, in form of muscles- I hate being the scrawny one!) and deciding to join me in the mornings and finally my school's Christmas celebration at which Ry and I had to play the piano and Ry had to give a speech as spokesman of his year (I had to help him write it- lazy twit!). I usually hate insomnia, but then it made it possible for me to work on RtK, The Dragon's Teeth and- finally!- Shadow's Light. Yup, that's right, SL 19 will be out by Wednesday. Now, with a right-footed 120° spin, drop and upwards slash I present you Chapter 11 of the story whose title still doesn't really make sense since I haven't gotten round to the romance part yet- RtK!!! _

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_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place _

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 11**

**Arrival of the cavalry**

****

"I demand proper respect be given to my mistress, _man_!" the tall, scantily-clad bodyguard snarled at the unfortunate chief investigator Saito who had dared to come near her to check her for hidden weapons since she was in the presence of his King. 

"I demand we be shown to our quarters immediately!" This was a rather quaint-looking woman in a plain, easy-to-handle linen dress. 

"I want our horses fed and sheltered before…" This one was drowned out in the general commotion. 

"I am here to announce…" as was that one. Suddenly, the smallish figure clad in a stately silk tunic of the clearest periwinkle blue jumped four feet into the air, quickly shouldering two of the bodyguards that were at lest a foot taller than her aside. 

"Hey, what's that porphyria1-ridden fool doing here?" _She _easily managed to make herself audible- the Amazon princess looked furious. "He is a traitor and a coward! He fled from my country! He is a deserter! I want him handed over to me!" 

"I am none of which you accuse me, Princess. I have left Hippolytien2, that's true, but I had never sworn an oath to stay there." As if to emphasize the Amazon Princess' point Aoshi showed no emotion whatsoever. His calm and cool voice provided a welcome respite from all the heated shouting that was going on. The Amazon princess clearly didn't appreciate his answer at all; a murderous look on her face she stomped over to where the King of Dunkelland was currently practicing the art of becoming invisible in the face of a large crowd. 

King Kamiya look bedraggled and like he would have preferred the Chain Master's bedroom to being caught in the middle of a fight between his Captain of the Palace Guard and a would-be fiancée. "Uh," was all he offered at the Amazon Princess' expectant look and resolutely balled fists, wondering for the umpteenth time just _how_ the courtyard of Dunkelland Castle had ended up as a lunatic's ward. It had begun that morning, even before the soldiers had returned from their latest Battousai hunt… 

*~* 

"How long will it take for them to find a single, injured man?" Kamiya fumed, rather in the mood for taking his fury out on some surprised or clueless target that presented itself to his practice sword. Unfortunately, Saito was neither. With practiced ease the tall chief investigator almost lazily blocked Kamiya's powerful swipe, leaving the King to catch himself from stumbling because he had overbalanced. 

"Battousai is, as much as I regret to say this, a very resourceful man, my Lord," Saito cautiously remarked, aiming to dismantle the King's fury bit by bit. 

"No man can be resourceful enough to flee in his state and not be found! There has to be someone that helps him!" The King's fury blazed through his midnight blue eyes. If he went any farther, he would either suffer a stroke or shoot bolts of lightning from them, Saito mused. But then, Kamiya had a point. The way the King had described Battousai's state it just didn't allow for him to vanish, no matter how strong he was. Saito himself was no pushover, but he knew that even with the high feeling that came with a battle he would be hard-pressed to walk more than a mile without collapsing. Battousai couldn't be _that_ different- the chief investigator didn't believe in the demon stories that were told about the red-haired man. He was as human as he was, perhaps faster and more resilient, but human. 

"Perhaps he has help- but we will only know once the men return to the castle, my King. There's nothing we can do before that." Kamiya clenched his teeth in anger, and threw his practice sword to the ground, but relaxed as the cool logic of Saito began to work its miracles. 

"You're right. I want to train. Someone summon Aoshi." He bent down and grabbed his practice _katana_ from where he had thrown it. 

"I will go and bring him to the training court," Saito said, bowing. The King was still a teenager, with all the relentless energy and lack of self-control that age brought to a boy. He had to work out to blow off steam, and Aoshi and Saito would be the only ones who could stand up to him in this state. 

"Come yourself, too," the King ordered, tightly gripping his weapon's handle in one white fist. "This is going to be good!" 

Saito didn't doubt it would be- perhaps he might even break a sweat this time. Aoshi wouldn't be too exhausted from training with his King, too, so maybe he would accept a training fight against him. The outlandishly stoic captain of the Palace Guard fought in a style nobody in Dunkelland had ever seen, fluid grace coupled with two swords instead of one. He had arrived at Dunkelland Castle in a shroud of mystery four years ago, enrolling in an ailing army and quickly working his way through the ranks until Hiko Shimajirou, the Palace Guard captain under King Kamiya's father, had accepted him into his group of elite fighters. When King Koshijirou was assassinated and died, leaving only the long slash over his left cheek as a clue to the identity of his murderer the gruff soldier had fallen from grace, was demoted and kicked out of the Palace Guard. Aoshi had been voted their new leader- unanimously. He was the youngest man to ever hold that position, only twenty-one years of age. 

The chief investigator's steps halted and his eyes narrowed when he detected a cloud of dust on the horizon. If he saw correctly then this was a whole group of riders accompanying around five or six carriages, a diplomatic envoy or something similar. But there were no visitors scheduled for today. 

"What is it, Saito?" King Kamiya called cantankerously from behind. 

"Someone is coming to the castle, my Lord," Saito replied, concentrating on making out the coat of arms on the flag the foremost rider was carrying. 

"We await no visitors," Kamiya said, confirming Saito's thoughts. 

"I don't know who it is, my Lord, and their coat of arms is foreign to me. It's none of our neighbors', in fact, I have never seen it. I can't say for sure, but it looks like a ring of daggers around the picture of a bird demon.3" 

" A bird demon? What country would put that as their coat of arms?" 

"I don't know, my King." 

Unfortunately, the country choosing such a sign soon became clear as the riders and carriages drew nearer, the demon bird on their flag now revealed to have a really angry look on his face, and a distinctly female body. All of the new arrivals were female as well, and King Kamiya had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that there was a purpose behind them that he didn't particularly care about to know. 

The carriages stopped in front of the gates, and the riders dismounted. Out of the carriages stepped even more impressively beautiful females, all clad in outfits ranging from rather scanty to practical and warm all made from light silk, varying only in color and in cut. Together, they and the riders, who now formed a protective circle around them, they briskly strode up to the castle's gates. 

"Princess Misao of the Amazons and her envoy would like an audience with King Kamiya," the leader of the female riders shouted. 

They were quickly admitted to the castle and led to the King, who had moved to greet them in the outer courtyard. Aoshi, having been summoned beforehand, and Saito flanked him left and right as the King welcomed the Amazons in Dunkelland. Before he could introduce his two companions, however, the Amazon princess disregarded all the rules of the court, cutting his introduction short by elbowing through the wall of her bodyguards and angrily attacking King Kamiya's captain of the Palace Guard. And this was where all the commotion had started since her companions had taken her behavior as a signal to start making demands. All their shouting was slowly but steadily giving King Kamiya a headache, so h concentrated on the irate little princess standing on tiptoe in front of a stoic Aoshi and shouting at him like there was no tomorrow. 

Aoshi didn't even answer the insolent little princess. He remembered her too well as a brat who didn't like anything better than to torment her cousin who, being male, was nothing but a slave to the sister of the future queen of the Amazons. She had been bouncy, cheerful, talented, spoiled and demanding. She had also smelled like mahogany wood and vanilla, which she still did. Blinking thrice in rapid succession Aoshi wondered just where this thought had come from while the little spitfire attacked King Kamiya for not saying anything. Sure, she came from a most powerful line of female rulers, still that did not explain the excessive energy she possessed. In all the years he had spent at her court as a growing boy Aoshi had never once seen her tire- even after a long day of training she still bounced about demanding- and receiving- attention. 

"Are you afraid of talking to me, porphyria-man?" Princess Misao's aqua green eyes spat flames at Aoshi. She had decided to return his attention to him, then. 

"I don't have porphyria." Aoshi's mind reeled. He had run from his home country after they had found out that he had trained himself in the style of fighting the Queen and her bodyguards used by watching and imitating them. Knowing how to fight meant certain death for a man in Amazon society, and learning how to fight as well as Aoshi did, better than the Queen's oldest daughter, meant torture and public execution. He had wanted to live- nineteen years too short a time to walk this world, so he had fled, disguised as a woman and under the cover of the night. He would never have thought that the little princess who had caught him training would someday come to Dunkelland. Her sister had been with her, the future Queen of the Amazons refusing to let him go without a fight, and he had knocked her out along with little Misao. 

"It doesn't matter- you are still a traitor and a man and I want to fight with you for my sister's honor!" 

"Princess, a fight isn't what we came here for- and you should not insult King Kamiya any further by ignoring him or shouting at him. You have been sent to propose an alliance between our countries, remember?" The practical-clad woman had managed to reach her princess's side and carefully restrained her with a calming hand on her shoulder. 

"An alliance?" King Kamiya asked, thankful for the first sign of sanity in all the commotion. 

"An alliance? I thought we were here because my mother wants me to marry King Kamiya, Tae!" the princess scolded, then turned towards the King once again. "So will you marry me, Kamiya?" 

The King of Dunkelland swallowed hard and started to cough. Saito looked amused, drilling a cigarette between his long fingers. Aoshi looked shell-shocked, and the Amazons finally shut up as their princess shouted their purpose of being in Dunkelland out for the whole castle to hear. 

I think this is the weirdest proposal in history, Saito thought. 

*~* 

"I think this belongs to you… brother." 

Hiko Seijurou didn't move a muscle as he incredulously stared at the haggard figure of a brother he had not set eye upon in twenty-five years. Or rather, he stared at the bundle of rags that brother was currently holding under his nose. A bundle of rags that had red hair and didn't move at all even though the way it was held just had to be uncomfortable. 

"What… is this?" he finally managed, blinking furiously as a horrible suspicion rose. Shimajirou didn't answer; instead he brushed past his brother and into the house to put the load he was carrying down on Seijurou's bed. Sighing, he pulled the cloak he had wrapped it in- his own, Seijurou surmised- off the head of the smallish young man that had been hidden inside. 

"I think this belongs to you, brother," he repeated, his voice hoarse and harsh with emotion. The last few hours had been hard on Hiko Shimajirou, he had had to crumble his world down, and to erect a new one from the shambles wasn't something he was looking forward to. 

"What is the meaning of this? Why have you… who is this?" Seijurou was between angry and baffled at his brother's antics. He had never got to know Shimajirou that well- his brother had left the family home when he was thirteen and had rather annoyed his younger sibling with his strict adherence to the rules. To see him like this- wild-eyed, scruffy, unkempt and with a distinct air of despair around him made Seijurou rather edgy. He couldn't even read Shimajirou's emotions from his _ki_, the jumbled mass of thoughts running wild distorted it beyond imagination. The most prevalent feelings were guilt, confusion and the urge to help. 

"You don't know who that is?" Shimajirou screeched, pointing at Seijurou, "you have brought him up! I know that! I sent him to you!" 

Seijurou studied the frail, lithe body on his bed. The face was hidden from view, hair so red that the blood matting it wasn't even visible spilling across it. Shimajirou was right- he did know who that was. Still, the young man had left him, had parted with him on less than friendly terms and had not deemed Seijurou worthy enough of hearing him out. 

"I won't ask how you know that I know him- that's for you to know and tell me when you want to. That aside, what makes you think I would take that baka deshi of mine in once again? If you know so much then you certainly know that I didn't send him out to murder in cold blood. He is no longer of any concern to me, so I suggest you take him elsewhere." His voice, even though he didn't want it to, had become more and more acerbic the longer he spoke, though tinged with a hint of concern. If that boy didn't move at all… 

"I can't take him elsewhere, Seijurou. Don't think I made my decision to come to you easily. You are still the same old egocentric eighteen year-old! Grow up, Seijurou! Look at him!" With that, he pulled his cloak fully off Battousai, revealing the broken body covered only by rags. 

Seijurou gasped. He had never in his whole life seen a person killed in such a gruesome manner. "Why have you brought him here if he's dead?" he asked, his voice shaking. Shimajirou's eyes flashed. 

"He's _not_ dead, Seijurou. He's breathing, and his heart is beating. He's a wanted man, and I couldn't think of anyone but you who could help Battousai the assassin." He carefully wrapped the young man in question in a blanket. He was shivering, whether with fever or cold he couldn't determine. "You have trained him, you know him better than anyone else and you are, as much as I hate it, the best swordsman in all of Dunkelland. Even your little prodigy pupil here can't reach your skill- yet, I think." 

"He's _alive_? He lived through…" Seijurou shook with suppressed rage. "That's why I told him not to get involved with politics! That clumsy boy is as stupid as always!" 

"It was not clumsiness that caused this- it was protecting King Kamiya and being held in the dungeons of Dunkelland Castle," Shimajirou reminded his brother sharply, immediately thereafter holding his breath. It was again like it had been when they had been younger- his brother only seeing what he wanted to see and he himself trying to make him look at the whole picture- he had never succeeded when Seijurou was a boy. 

"Protecting that girl?" Seijurou asked, "I thought he wanted to rid Dunkelland of her and her father. He always ranted about how the royals only oppressed their people and were good-for-nothing tyrants… I guess he saw something in that girl-king of ours he hadn't seen when he was with me." 

"Girl?" Shimajirou was feeling as though he had passed into a strange alternate dimension. Seijurou had gone mad. Caustic, cynical, realistic Seijurou had lost his mind. 

"No time to tell the story- look, he's shaking," Seijurou pointed out. "I will tell you later, though," he promised as he unwrapped his young student again. "Good work." 

"He was bandaged, but the bandages have partially unraveled and are dirtied. We will have to redo them. He is very cold and his skin is gray- he's lost too much blood- what are you looking at me like that, brother?" Seijurou's jaw snapped shut. 

"You're just talking like some healer, that's all." He shrugged. 

"I was friends with the old medicine woman. You pick up things when you listen to them. Now go get some hot water and clean sheets." He sent Seijurou off. His brother was too startled to protest. 

"You are going to live, little one," he promised the unresponsive form of Battousai. 

"Why do you call him that?" Seijurou had returned, carrying a large, earthenware bowl with steaming water and an assortment of clean, white cloth in various sizes. 

"Because I met him when he was just four or five years old. King Koshijirou wanted me to kill him. I sent him to you instead," Shimajirou answered, sounding bitter. He could not meet his brother's eyes. It had been just five years since he had left his family behind, two years since Seijurou had to go through the death of their parents alone when he had sent the little boy Shinta stumbling onto his brother's doorstep. 

"So you are the 'big soldier' little Kenshin kept ranting about. You hurt him!" Seijurou sharply looked at his brother's face. 

"I had to prove to King Koshijirou that I killed him. I cut his shoulder and arm. And why do you call him Kenshin?" He did not even try to defend himself. Shimajirou had to be close to breaking if he didn't try to justify his actions. 

"He still has the scar. And he lost his memory, so I had to give him a new name. I thought it fit... He recovered his memories later- partially. I don't think he remembers his name or his parents." Both men worked together to tend to the young man who was glowing with fever but shivering nonetheless. 

"Your name is very fitting for a young man with his skills. And… I am sorry for sending him to you." Shimajirou had, for the first time, apologized to his brother. It had taken a lot out of him, but his life had toppled upside down so much already that he didn't even register how highly unusual his behavior was. 

"It was the best thing you ever did in your life," Seijurou admitted honestly, wringing the water out of the cloth he had used to clean his student's body where there were no bandages. The young man was slight- too slight, he had not eaten well lately. And he was in a desolate state, anorexic and beaten- neither Seijurou nor Shimajirou thought he would wake from his feverish coma anytime soon. 

Once again, they had forgotten whom they were dealing with. He was Hiko Seijurou's student Kenshin, Hiko Shimajirou's saving grace Shinta, King Koshijirou's killer and bearer of one of the most important secrets in Dunkelland. His eyelids twitched as soon as the last bandage was tied, and when Seijurou wrapped him in his blanket his eyes opened, blazing amber slits staring at the unfocused world. 

"Shishou?" He didn't manage anything else- he fell asleep immediately thereafter, but it was a sleep and not unconsciousness, which greatly relieved both men. 

"Yes, Kenshin, I'm here." He smiled at the redhead before turning to face his brother. "I thing we have to talk about a great many things, brother." The word felt strange on his tongue as he had not said it for so long- brother. But that was what Shimajirou was to him, forever. A brother he didn't know. 

I hope I am ready for this, he thought. 

*~* 

Battousai had fled once again. His contacts had left no doubt as to that. Once more, he had to adjust his plans. Once again, that redhead managed to agonize him even though neither of them had ever seen the other. His son was doing well, that was the second news. The talk with Shishio had gone well. Soon, Dunkelland would be ripe for the taking. 

He had talked to the Amazon Queen- she had sent her younger daughter to become a wife to King Kamiya, and she was an old friend. A very himself wasn't already… at least his daughter would become Queen. He would old friend and a worthy ally. King Kamiya would marry Makimachi Misao and become impressionable. He would soon make too many mistakes, the people would rise, and his star would be shining as his son was made King. It was just that he would ensure a bright future for both his children. They deserved no less. 

"How is Enishi doing?" he asked his aide who was bringing a new carafe of water to his desk. 

"He is well, and he is doing exactly what he should." Ah, the boy was so wonderful… he was intelligent and determined, and since he thought that his beloved sister had died he was driven by a force far greater than even he himself. So one-tracked he was… 

"What about the rebellions?" Back to business. Thoughts about Enishi could wait. 

"Whenever you give the signal, our agents will perform the killings and blame them on the army. The victims have been carefully chosen- respected and loved people. The villages have been chosen according to their level of dissatisfaction. I think we have added a new target over the last week- there was a widow whose son was forced into the army, and her village loves her. She is on the verge of starvation, though, she and her family, and nobody can help her. I think these people will be great additions to our cause." 

"Very good. Who thought of that?" 

"Enishi. He got the information from our source within the palace." 

"That boy will be great," he concluded, waving for his aide to lave him alone. He had a lot of things to think about. 

*~* 

The Amazons had been accommodated, their noisy presence hidden behind thick doors for the moment. Well, almost. Their princess had been rather… energetically insistent, and she had asked to be taken on a tour around the castle she was to inhabit soon. Yes, that was right- King Kamiya had been too stunned to answer anything, and his silence had been taken as acceptance. He now had a young, green-eyed, black-haired fiancée whose braid was swinging merrily on her back as she followed the unlucky man who had been assigned as her liaison officer on her tour through Dunkelland Castle. 

"What does the King like to eat? I can cook, you know- I have learned it even though my mother doesn't like it. My sister can, too- Mother almost threw a fit when she found out. The future Queen isn't to cook," she scowled at that, her lively eyes twinkling merrily. "Tomoe simply put her sword at her throat and said she shouldn't doubt her abilities. Mother as so proud! Tomoe is so wonderful. She knows everything, and she is really good at fighting. And nobody ever knows what she thinks!" 

"I am sure your sister is a wonderful person, Princess… but I'm also sure she can't be as beautiful as you are," her liaison officer said in a deep, purring voice. He was rather handsome, in a strict sort of way, had long hair put into a ponytail high on his head and sharp, smoldering eyes. 

"Aw, Shishio, you should not say that- I'm your King's fiancée. And Tomoe is much more beautiful than I am- she resembles my mother. She is tall, and slim, and has these large black eyes- not as strange as mine!" The princess scowled. Shishio, who had been found to have time at the moment and who had been the highest-ranking member of King Kamiya's court available turned around, smiling devilishly at the young woman. 

"But your eyes are beautiful, Misao," he said, slowly bending down to look her deeper into the eye. 

"You really think so?" She blushed and twirled around on the spot, the short skirt she was wearing flaring out to give Shishio an enticing look of slim, creamy-skinned legs. 

"You are." He grabbed her and held her in his arms. Perhaps the plans of his lord could be accelerated- if the King's wife had a lover among the conspirators… 

"What are you doing?" the Amazon princess suddenly shrieked, quickly ducking out of his grasp and bringing her hand around to connect with his cheek full-force, "I am your future Queen! You should respect me, not… kiss me!" She fumed, stomping her little foot onto the ground. "I release you from your duties! I can find my own way back to my rooms! Go!" 

Shishio cradled his rapidly reddening cheek, the stinging sensation not really painful. He was, after all, a master fighter even if nobody knew that. He wanted nothing more than to put that little insolent brat of a girl into her place and show her what he was capable of, but for the sake of his future he had to hold back. So he just looked at her disdainfully, whirled around and left her to her own devices. She was just a brat, after all. 

"I don't think that was wise, Misao," Aoshi stepped away from the wall where he had been standing throughout the whole exchange between Misao and Shishio, "you should not have provoked him like that." 

Misao stood frozen to the spot. How that man managed to catch her by surprise every single time they met was beyond her- she was not worse than Tomoe in fighting, and Tomoe was better then the Queen. No man should be able to attain that level, yet here he was- a slave boy, born to serve, who had defied everything that should have been and had become a proud, if unapproachable, fighter. The seventeen-year-old could not fathom him. 

"You have no right to speak to me," she said haughtily, holding her head high. 

"I am the captain of the Palace Guard here, Misao," he spoke softly, "and as such I do hold the power to give advice if it concerns the safety of those close to King Kamiya." 

"I don't care what you are here- you will always be Aoshi of the Kitchens to me," she replied, knowing that the stinging barb she had inserted into her words would work. Whenever she had called him that as a boy he had blanched and become silent. As a man, though, he was much better prepared to take her on as she soon realized. 

"I don't care what I am to you, _Princess_- I have attained my title through hard work, while you have been born into yours. You can decide for yourself which of the two you find more worthy. You have expressed the wish to go back to your chambers- I will lead you there. Later, you will meet King Kamiya for lunch. I was sent to give you this message." 

"Oh, so now you've become a messenger-boy instead of a kitchen-boy," she jibed, knowing fully well that it was low and that she did not really want to say these things. It was just that… he was a man, and he was a walking contradiction to everything she had been brought up to believe. If King Kamiya was anything like this… but no, she could not think about her problems to accept men. She was the King's fiancée, and she would marry him. Her mother had made it clear that nothing else would be accepted. 

"Follow me," Aoshi said, his pale face stony as ever. He had had the most gorgeous periwinkle blue eyes as a boy, Misao remembered, but looking at his face she only found two slabs of ice where the warm pools of blue had been. He had changed so much… 

"Lead the way," she commanded, desperate to keep her confusion and guilty feeling to herself. If that made her act like a prat, so be it. She was a princess, after all. 

*~* 

He slowly swam to the surface of the lake he had been drowning in, idly wondering whether he was dead. He couldn't feel his body and didn't care whether that was good or bad- he liked the limbo state he was in. 

You are vulnerable, a voice spoke in his head, collect yourself, quickly! He didn't even know what that voice meant, but his body apparently did as it tensed up, a slight tingling running along his nerves. Something was very, very wrong. He couldn't move. You have just not made enough of an effort, the voice scolded, try again! That voice sounded like himself- it had to be a part of himself, perhaps reason? He had often talked to himself when he was alone, maybe he had finally gone crazy even though he remembered no incident that required going crazy as a result. He remembered surprisingly little, he thought, concentrating on moving at least a part of his hand. 

When he moved the fingers, a searing surge of intense hot pain scoured through his arm into his spine making his brain scream in agony, which his throat voiced out. In a flash, everything came back to him, and he held himself rigidly stiff to make the pain go away. It did, even though part of it remained. His leg was the worst, throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. His back was a sea of fire he didn't care to cross, and the rest… he could not hold back a series of moans and groans as his body that had lifted off his resting place in his initial attempt to move settled back down. 

"It's alright, I am here," someone said, someone he knew. A strong, reassuring presence, tinged with a hint of cynicism strong enough to be sensed. 

"Shishou," he whispered, unable and unwilling to turn his head to see. Strands of his hair obstructed his view, pillars of red in his blurred vision. 

"Yes, Kenshin." Why did he even speak to him? Last thing he remembered, Hiko Seijurou had sworn never to talk to him again. 

"How?" he croaked, ignoring the agony flaring from his raw and parched throat. Something cool touched his lips, sweet, fresh water trickling into his mouth, alleviating the rawness. 

"My brother has brought you here, Kenshin." Strange- his master never called him by his name. He must still be unconscious or already dead. 

"Just like last time, little one," now a gray-haired man moved into his line of sight, his body as impressively muscled as his master's but slightly stockier. He knew that man- he had cut him when he was small and had sent him to run. He had called him by his name… his name… 

"Don't drift off yet, Kenshin. You have to swallow this!" His head was moved, and he groaned in agony. His back was bad, and his head hurt. He refused to open his mouth. Perhaps the soldier was trying to poison him- he had hurt him in their last encounter after all. 

"Swallow, baka deshi!" Stunned, he followed the command. Perhaps he wasn't dead after all. 

"You aren't. Don't be stupid." Oh- he had said that aloud. He was so sleepy now, and the stuff they had made him swallow made him want to retch because it was so bitter. 

"No, don't. Hold it down, Kenshin." Calling him by his name did the trick- shocked, Kenshin forgot about his discomfort for a moment. 

"Shishou… why?" He struggled to look at his master, but the man remained just out of view. He was too tired and in too much pain to move, so he quieted down and simply lay there staring at the fuzzy world. 

"Don't think about why, baka deshi- you have to regain your strength first." Was there a hint of gentleness in Hiko Seijurou's voice? No, it couldn't be, could it? He was so tired… 

"Sleep, Kenshin." He just did what he was told. He didn't want to struggle anymore. That stuff he had drunk made him feel funny, so detached from everything. Nothing hurt anymore. Everything was just dark and warm and comforting. He slept. 

*~* 

"A _fiancée_? As in _female_?" Sanosuke could hardly believe what he had heard. 

"Sure. Men usually _do_ marry women, you know," his fellow soldier answered dryly, looking at Sano like he had just sprouted a second head. 

"I know that," the spiky-haired soldier retorted dumbly, scratching his head. Somehow, his whole life had turned out a mess since he had met Battousai. And now there was a female fiancée for a female King. 

"Then why did you ask? Did _you_ want to be the King's lover? I see, that's why you arranged to be with Kamiya so often! How tragic! How romantic! Unrequited love! You know, I had hopes myself some time ago… but then I realized a King was just too high above me to ever notice me. You should be over Kamiya soon- you know what? You're a sweet-looking and pretty young man. Give me a call if you need any comfort- the name's Yano!" He winked suggestively at a mortified Sano. 

"I… I'm not… I…" he spluttered, but his companion had already vanished around the corner on his patrol. Sano collapsed against the wall. "I don't believe this," he sighed, slamming his fist into the stone floor hard enough for a few chips to come loose and fly around his head and hand, leaving small trails of irritated skin in their wake. 

"Don't believe what?" Sano jumped. In front of him stood the black-cloaked, veiled figure of the medicine woman. 

"King Kamiya… is engaged," he stuttered, somehow managing to get over what was at the very front of his thoughts, "and to a _woman!" _

"I know that- it's why I came to look for you. It seems like nothing is ever easy- once that woman manages to catch the King alone and decides to advance her chances by putting the moves on darling little Kamiya… We have to stop this engagement, or Dunkelland will fall to pieces." She threw back her veil, revealing her pretty, serious face. "I don't know how, though," she admitted. 

"I don't know either," Sano said, sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor, "I wish Battousai were here. He always has a plan." 

"He isn't, though, and will not be for quite some time. We have to do this on our own. At least it is a long engagement- I heard it when I attended lunch with the King. We have six whole months." 

"Not long enough," Sano murmured. 

"No defeatism! Think of what we can do, then find me at my home," the medicine woman instructed resolutely, "I have been here for too long. People will get suspicious if I stay. I await you at dusk!" 

"Don't await too much," Sano spoke to her retreating form, "I really have no idea what to do. But we have six months, Megumi is right- I think Battousai will be back before they are up, and he will have a plan. He always has a plan." The young soldier went on with his patrol, continually reassuring himself that his friend would come through for them. "He will have a plan." 

… to be continued … 

_More RtK… still no romance in sight, what the hell was I thinking when choosing that title? There isn't even much Kenshin in this- after all, healing **does** take time, believe me, I know. So two nearly Kenshin-free months have to be covered… but there was a little surprise in here, wasn't there? Sorry all you vampire-lovers, I couldn't resist the jab. For me, there's noting less romantic and horrifying than the prospect of being a vampire. Imagine, no feelings, living off others, having to drink blood (tastes awful- I have had it [unintentionally, of course] more than once), eternal emptiness… urgh! I'd rather be dead! So Aoshi-the-not-quite-vampire has a little princess as an acquaintance… who is dead set on marrying our King-with-an-identity-crisis…*grins* I hope you found Misao's proposal to be at least a little bit funny- it was one of these sentences I write chapters around. Now on to the usual… _

* * *

**Information**

1porphyria is a genetic disorder that causes extreme anemia due to defective hemoglobin production and sensitivity to sunlight as well as an enzyme disorder that makes garlic a poison to anyone who has it. Thus, people who have it are very pale, like lurking around in the shadows, are rather nocturnal and shy away from garlic. It's mostly caused by inbreeding and was very predominant among the royals of Eastern Europe- coincidentally the place where the vampires dwell… 

2Hippolyte was an Amazon queen in the stories about Herakles (Hercules in Latin), very proud and strong. Herakles had to get her girdle as one of his twelve tasks. The word ending –ien is a German one for some countries (e.g. Croatia is Kroatien in German) 

3The Amazons' coat of arms comes from two of Misao's techniques: her flying daggers of death and the _kecho kiri(or giri, I have never seen it in writing, only heard the words) _kick (angry demon bird kick) 

**fun fact of the week**: I had to correct some English assignments my classmates wrote (grmpf, what you don't do for extra credit…) and found the word 'flubbergusted'. Perhaps its some new word for being turned into a rubbery substance after having been hit with an erratic burst of moving air? 

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_ the monster... _

**Reviewer's corner **

****

**Nigihayami Haruko**_: Wow… and I really mean…WOW! You have a way with words that can't be born from learning. You encouraged me so much I went and wrote half a chapter of Shadow's Light right away. Writing for me is a means to escape tiredness and annoyance which real life often heaps onto me, but you just gave me a different outlook on things. I really should stop being so cynical and dark about everything- there's a bright side to everything, you're so right about that! Thanks again! _

**CurlsofSerenity**_: *grins* Can you give me some of your cat powers? I'd like them to scratch my twin, he's laughing at me again… well, Ry and I were very curious children, and we climbed over this fence and didn't see the drop so we fell down the amphitheater stairs. We have always been prone to freak accidents (Ry dissolved part of the ceiling of one of our apartments once using a mixture of sulfuric and hydrochloric acid- he had wanted to produce nitroglycerine but we had neither nitric acid nor glycerine so he tried the hydrochloric acid instead…), and somehow the twin factor made them happen much more often (one of us always has a stupid idea…). My cousin is very, very strong- she had to move to Florida to live with her parents again (she had been studying already and had lived on her own for a year while taking care of her younger brother who had wanted to complete his schooling in Germany), but she tries to live her life as normal as she can. She goes to the beach, goes shopping at the mall, helps some children from the local Elementary with their homework… and always tries to hide all her pain. I really, really admire her and wish she could be around longer. When I told her this, she only raised an eyebrow at me (we have installed webcams and internet telephone) and said I should not ask this of her- she is only sorry that she can't see the third Harry Potter movie (she's a fan…). I wish I could be as strong as she is… _

**EnjeruJoshin**_: *hopes that she hasn't crushed Isis' toes* Thanks for everything *grins* _

**clearsunrise**_: Wow, thank you. Writing is my means of relaxing, I could not be without it so I think I can keep up the updates. I wanted to tell everyone on Christmas day, but my twin said I should do it on New Year's Eve instead since it's the day of decision making and all… _

**Zeh Wulf**_: My parents are really great- they have given me all the help I could ever have wanted and have supported all my extracurricular activities even though it was sometimes difficult with our moving around so much. They care a lot and love Ry and me more than anything else, so naturally they only want the best for both of us. They don't really force me into anything- it's just that they think they already** know** what I've decided and are always so surprised and disappointed if something is not as they thought it was. And I'm stupid enough that I think I can't really disappoint anyone. There's just this one thing again that I'm not: smart. My twin is smart- he's brilliant, to be honest. I'm just the girl who reads too many books for her own good… Austin sounds great- I think I'll write there some time this month *grins* My parents will have a heart attack when I tell them all this on New Year's Eve! The German schooling system is somewhat peculiar- their 12th (13th for those who go the 'normal' and not the 'speeded-up' way) year is a mixture of Senior High and College. University starts directly after school. _

_Saito suspects… something. More in chapter 12, though, I had to introduce a little chaos into this story (I'm not happy without chaos…). Once everybody settles down, there will be a lot of questions… I already dread having to find the balance between dialogue and action once this comes up... gah! Romance is a maximum of four chapters away- things will get funny … I had thought about some little subplot in which Misao thinks that Battousai is a rival for her Kamiya's heart and she starts dressing as a male since Kamiya seems more attracted to 'other males', but since this served no real purpose I cut it out again. There are other romantic complications I liked better! _

_The whole farmer episode was really funny- there was this gray-haired, stocky little Italian farmer carrying my unconscious twin under his right arm and me on his left shoulder since I was still conscious even though I had hit my head harder, standing in front of my mother and saying in flawless English: "I believe this belongs to you!" My Mom nearly had a heart attack, and I started laughing. We're still friends with Massimo- he was a university professor before he retired to his farm and rather embarrassed that two little children managed to climb over his (rather high) fence. He actually apologized to my parents, and he visited Ry and me in the hospital! _

**The Girl Who Cried Oro**_: Bundle is Battousai found. And Kaoru is in serious denial about being gay! *grins* And now Sano is being thought of as gay too… *doublegrins* _

**^_^**_: There will be an intense questioning about how Battousai got away, so you might be onto something pointing out that there are flaws in Sano's and Megumi's plan. Néli, my cousin, hates pity. She wants to live as badly as we want her to live, too, but six months was the most optimistic prognosis. She has moved from denial and anger into acceptance now, and I would have never believed that a person who is so ill and really suffering can be so bright and happy still. _

**Felina**_: I like the Hiko brothers too! Thanks!!! _

**Innocence8**_: I think you're very much right with this! _

**allin656**_: I gave your best wishes to Néli- she wants me to tell everyone that she gives her best and will always do so. Thanks for your patience with me and Shadow's Light- I'm a bit frustrated with myself for my stupid block. _

**ixchen**_: Thanks for your encouragement- I hope you are not too stressed at the moment! _

**missaw**_: Thank you! Next chapter up already! _

**flyinangel777**_: *hugs Angel* I know this doesn't really help, but I'm so sorry about your mom. Your aunt and uncle sound pretty… indifferent to me, if I may say so, not even telling you what they expect of you. I know how it is if you have a communication problem- when we were living in Italy I didn't have enough time to learn the language properly, and the barrier this puts between people is thicker than most people think. I think that without my twin I would have broken down some time ago, especially since December was a horrid month, but he carries me through and I think I give him strength as well. I can't even imagine what it's like alone- we two are close enough to complete each other's thoughts and sentences and can share everything. Néli (my cousin- her real name is Cornelia but she kills anyone who dares to use it since it sounds horrible when produced in English, just like Chiara does…) has a twin brother as well and tells me they share the same kind of bond. One thing is very important, I think: never give up on your dreams! If you want to be a lawyer, you're going to be a lawyer. And nobody can stop you if you really put your mind into that *hugs Angel again*. You will fulfill your dreams, I believe in you! _

**Bonessasan**_: Ugh, ruined another chance at escaping with a mistake. I do the same thing at school, checking over my tests and pointing out the mistakes my teachers didn't see… they always think I'm insane. Ryan told me some kind of background story to the Master of the Chains, but I was so appalled I couldn't even write a word of it and think I would have been better off without listening to what he said. He has a fascination with the mechanics of a body- wants to study human biochemistry after all. Thanks for the praise *glows red and is used to launch Ry's latest chemistry experiment since she produces excessive heat* _

**Nanakilover/Brukaoru**_: I know that I felt sorry for Battousai, too. It was Ryan's and Néli's doing that had him end up like this- my version was much, much less horrible. Unfortunately, my twin knows my cousin pretty well and the two of them came with a list of what I had to put into the story if I didn't want to lose their input and beta services- so go blame them! *Ryan snickers and points out that Chi would just have had to manage on her own if she had wanted to avoid all of that* *Néli smiles and points out that her beta services aren't that good anymore and that she only gives Chi advice on her style since she can't concentrate very well at the moment* *Chi hugs twin and beta and Nanakilover* _

**the sacred night**_: Whee, thanks for everything! About the wordiness issue: it's an ongoing discussion with my cousin and beta reader- she writes newspaper articles and is thus rather prone to a short and precise sort of storytelling while I am more up Tolkien's alley with my writing and reading preferences… we love to haggle about things such as the length of sentences and how to describe situations… I think we will do that till the day she dies! Thank you thank you thank you!!! And I'll be sure to check out your work- it's Christmas break now!!! _

**ur so stupid**_: When I read your review I started laughing- honestly! I was dancing around in my room and singing 'I got my first flame!' My twin brother declared me clinically insane ( as though that had not been established beforehand), but I didn't care. Just one word of advice, though: I would choose the name I review under differently if I were to flame anybody- it comes right back at you if you use a 2nd person pronoun! And btw: I know my name is stupid. I have a strong dislike for 'Chiara Lavinia'. Try to pronounce it and you know why. That's why I'm called 'Chi' most of the time, you see? I won't deny that I enjoy having people telling me that they like to read what I write- I love it for a fact. But, as you seem to have overlooked, I said I would post either when my counter reaches 100 reviews or Monday 22nd of December. I would not call that 'f****ing blackmail'- it's an option. You as a reader chose to support my posting sooner than Monday- for that I thank you. However, liberal use of the exclamation mark neither improves readability nor does it make me write that much faster. Now, I suggest you either refrain from reading my story since it obviously is so torturous for you to do so or you criticize me in a more civil way. I am not above criticism- I crave it and bask in it, even if it is as sharp and often devastating as that of my former beta and cousin. Just please choose your words a little more appropriate the next time- I am fifteen after all, and I wouldn't want you to have to face charges for exposing a minor to X-rated material. Thanks!!! _

**ceara**_: They will know on New Year's Eve… thanks for reading and enjoying my story!!! _

**Jensa**_: I won't leave, don't worry. I gave a promise that I would finish these, and I will. Be glad that you didn't skip any grades- it's rather… uncomfortable if you've got to act older than you are all the time. You want to be an artist? WOW and good luck! My artistic talents are rather nonexistent, but I admire all those who have the talent and want to use it. So BEST OF LUCK!!! _

**Eps**_: A mailing list? I don't have one of those, yet, I never thought that so many people would read what I write, but maybe I'll start one soon, especially since my updating might become more irregular in the New Year when my final Finals are approaching. THANKS!!! _

**ChiisaiLammy**_: I have a wonderfully thought-out plot? WOW, thank you! I hope you've enjoyed the latest twist as well, even though it takes the story into yet another direction once again… THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! *Chi jumps up and down and hugs Chiisai* _

**All readers**_: Uh… wow! I didn't ever expect to become one of these authors who get more than ten reviews per chapter since I don't fancy myself one of those extremely talented people who have the dream to become authors later. And then so many of you offered to help me! I feel so… wonderful now. All tired and exhausted and spent and ready to drop dead now that it's the weekend and with it the holidays but just simply wonderful at the same time. Thank you all ever so much- you make me happy, proud and strong, and even my family comments on how I have started to glow. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! _

**Special thanks to**: **_Bengali_**_ and **Slight Imperfections ***grins* I write twice as fast if someone adds me to their favorites list, so thank you a lot! _

* * *

_One last thing before I sign off for today- I have found a little situation I simply **have** to work into one of my stories some day… _

_"Are you blushing?" She studied him intently, her sharp gaze resting pointedly on his flushed cheeks. _

_"No! I'm not! I have… temporary sunburn, that's all." _

_Any ideas as to where this could come in??? Thanks and Cya!!! _

_Chi _


	12. Truthful lies

_Ciao!!! _

_New Year's Eve is over- and my parents took my news actually better than I thought they would. My father is okay with my choice of career, after my twin helped me out by pointing out that, even though it were a teenage __tic__that I wanted to study law, that __tic__would surely survive the six months that separate me from university. My mother was the harder part… somehow, she always expected me to follow in her footsteps as a top female scientist- she's a bit of an emancipist on that front. Ry thought it was so funny that they almost choked on their sparkling wine when I announced my good intentions for the year: I want to get into a good law school… *grins* Perhaps the added shock of me having cut fifty centimeters off my hair helped- the first thing my mother said when I got back from the hairdresser's with my hair stopping at the nape of my neck was: "Where's your hair?" And I showed her the plastic bag I had it in. She almost fainted! But with all the sports I do long hair was getting on my nerves as it's between wavy and curly and takes an insanely long time to dry. *grins* Ry hates my new look, so it actually looks good! _

_Unfortunately, I caught a bad case of the flu (the real influenza), so I could not update sooner as my fever was bordering on 104.7__°F for three days__. I'm better now, so here's the new chapter. Enjoy!!! _

* * *

_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place _

* * *

Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**Chapter 12**

**Truthful lies**

There were certain inalienable truths in the life of Saito Hajime, chief investigator for Dunkelland royalty. Criminals would be found, justice would be dealt swiftly and fairly, and that little Amazon girl who called herself a princess was going to regret that she had ever crossed paths with him. She was efficiently detaining him from doing his duty by shooting question after question at his less-than-responsive back. He could not simply blow her off since she was an important guest and he had to be diplomatic, but he certainly showed his anger and disgust at being tied down with a hyperactive teenage girl. 

Misao seemed oblivious to the glares that were directed at her back as she chattered happily about growing up in the Amazon castle, a beautiful, low building that resembled a traditional Japanese house more than the stern, high walls of the European-style Dunkelland Castle, and the woods surrounding it. Even though Saito didn't show the slightest interest in her exploits or her martial arts and ninja training she wasn't to be deterred. 

"Oh, and I think you have heard about Crown Princess Tomoe? She's my older sister," here she smiled, "and she's _legendary. You know, Mother always said she was so quiet and behaved, but then I found out that she had run away when I was thirteen…" Saito tuned her out again. Apart from the occasional grunt or affirmative nod nothing else was expected from him, so he didn't actually have to listen to that annoying brat's drivel. _

He almost missed her saying the name, but his trained senses were able to pick it up even semi-conscious. "What did you say?" he asked sharply, not caring that he had revealed his lack of interest in conversation with the young princess just now. 

"I _said_," Misao repeated, looking slightly put off that Saito hadn't bothered to listen, "that Tomoe told me she had met this guy you all are hunting for- Battousai was what she called him." 

"The heiress of the Amazons met Battousai?" Saito was more than a little intrigued. Perhaps the visit of these rather barbaric women with their annoyingly superior attitude _did_ have something good. 

"She says so. But then Mother claims that my father is also a man of your country…" Misao sighed dreamily, "ah, if only I would meet him… she said I would recognize him from his hair- mine resembles his, you know." She pointed at the glistening, black strands that shone with a green sheen where they had sprung from her tight braid. 

Saito waited. She had yet to come forward with useful information. Or perhaps she already has. You should remember a man with greenish black hair- if he's her father then he might be connected to the Amazons, and if Battousai is connected to the Amazons as well… 

"Anyways, Tomoe is always talking about Battousai, and a small house at the edge of Dunkelwald that's closest to our border, and a man who poses as a potter but is a swordsmaster. He has taught her some tricks, she says." 

"A small house at the Amazon border?" Now Saito's interest was more than piqued. 

"Yes, that's what she said, and she _smiled_ when she said that." Misao grinned cheekily up to Saito's impressive height. The wolfish chief investigator had a sharp glint springing to life in the corners of his eyes. 

"I am sorry, Princess, but I'll have to leave your company now. I beg your pardon and hope that you'll find Shinomori Aoshi, captain of the Palace Guard, a suitable substitute for me. There are urgent matters to attend to, I'm afraid." 

"You mean…" Misao looked horrified. What had she just said that made that man flee her company? Was it something that males thought unacceptable? She was already trying her best to fit in, as she had promised her mother, but it was just so _hard_ to gat along with all these males! They were so confusing, and behaving so… superior instead of being the cowed and muted beings they were in Hippolytien. "You mean I have offended you?" she finally choked out. 

"No, Princess, you haven't offended me. I have to leave nonetheless." Saito gave her a curt nod before striding off, his long legs easily carrying him through the castle at a fast pace. He had to issue orders for all the men that were still hunting Battousai out in the woods to return to the castle. 

"Wait! You… Saito! What have I done?" Misao was really distressed now. He had simply blown her off coldly, and not a single word he had said had contained any reassurance that she had not caused a diplomatic disaster. He didn't answer her, and the young Amazon was left to kicking the stones of the walls in frustration and muttering under her breath about 'stupid males and their damn failure to communicate'. Cultural differences were not that easy to overcome… she kicked the wall again for good measure. 

"Princess Misao, what has you so angered?" Now _that was a voice she could get used to. Cool and refined it reminded her of her sister, but with a certain humility and warmth to it that Tomoe, being the Crown Princess of the Amazons, lacked. _

"Who are you?" She asked, squinting to find the woman's features behind her black veil. She was taller than Misao by half a head- the young princess scowled at that- but as slender as her, judging from the easy way her wide, billowing robes fell around her frame. 

"I am the medicine woman of this castle and the village at the foot of the hill," she answered, bowing to show her respect for a foreign dignitary. Judging from her manners Misao would have mistaken her for a very high-ranking lady or a diplomat, but never for a doctor. 

"What do you want from me?" She asked curiously. The medicine woman chuckled, her hand- slender and white like a lady's again- flying up to the place where the veil concealed her mouth. Her laughter rang with a seductive "Ohohohoho!" before she composed herself again. 

"I merely wanted to greet the princess of the Amazons- I saw you and your envoy arrive and was curious," she explained. Misao smiled. She didn't expect the people of Dunkelland to have the courage to go and search for her out of mere curiosity. 

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, medicine woman," she said in her finest 'court voice', one she normally hated to use. In front of that woman, however… she didn't want to behave like a stupid little teenaged girl. 

"It was an honor to make your acquaintance, Princess," the medicine woman replied, her voice and bow smooth as honey. "I have to be on my way now, unfortunately. Chief investigator Saito needs to talk with me." 

"About what?" Misao asked. Her inbred curiosity, as usual, got the better of her, as much as she was scowling inwardly at herself because of that. 

"Matters of the state- and an escaped criminal," the medicine woman added after seeing the Amazon's doubtful face. 

"Escaped criminal? How exciting! At home, Mother would allow my sister and me to join the hunt if there was a dangerous criminal on the loose- do you think I might accompany you? I still have to apologize to the chief investigator, too- something I said must have set him off and-" 

"Princess Misao, I'm afraid the customs of our country do not allow you to join in hunting dangerous individuals- you are an important guest. Please follow me, I'll take you to the castle gardens where the King is awaiting you for a light afternoon tea." Silently, but dominantly, the imposing figure of the captain of the Palace Guard loomed behind the little princess's back. 

"Dangerous individuals? _Criminals_? I am the second best fighter in all of Hippolytien- what makes you think I cannot take on a common criminal?" 

"I never doubted your ability to take on a _common criminal. The man we are dealing with is far from common. He escaped from the deepest of our dungeons while severely injured. He is…" Aoshi fell silent, knowing from the look on Misao's face that he had just piqued her interest even more. "He is none of your concern. Chief investigator Saito and the Palace Guard will handle this man. You, on the other hand, will now meet the King." _

Had Misao been the princess of any other country than his native one, Aoshi would have never treated her this way. Being as it was, however, he still remembered the oh-so-innocent tortures the spoiled little princess had inflicted upon a little boy barely six years her senior. And a four-year-old _could_ be cruel if she desired to be so. 

"He is not of my concern? A _dangerous_ man? You're not talking about Battousai, are you, kitchen-boy?" The thrill of the hunt started to light up Misao's eyes and fire her muscles into tight, ready coils. She wanted to be on the trail of that… criminal right now. She loved hunting down criminals, and she was good at it. And if the escapee was dangerous, then that was even better. She had long since longed for someone to pit her skills against. 

"If I were it would make no difference. The King is awaiting you here, Princess," Aoshi motioned into the beautifully landscaped, open courtyard that was the King's private garden. 

"Oh, I will simply ask my _fiancé _for permission to join the hunt," she said haughtily in an answer to Aoshi's unspoken challenge, wincing inwardly at how harsh she treated him. As a small girl, he had been her hero- he had been there to save her if she had climbed too far up a tree and could not get down, he had brought her food whenever she craved for it, and he had played every single game she had proposed with her. 

"King Kamiya will undoubtedly share my views on this situation, Princess," he replied evenly, his mask not showing a single crack. He had gotten better and better at hiding his emotions as this girl that now stood so… enticingly excited in front of her put him through more and more of her embarrassing 'games'. 

"We will see," she hissed, clearly angered at his superior attitude and miffed that, to improve relations between their respective countries, she could not physically lash out against him. 

"We will," he confirmed, not knowing why he even bothered to answer. But something about that girl he had practically known from the day she was born touched an almost forgotten part of his mind. A part he had wanted to bury beneath the thickest layer of ice he could conjure… 

She was gone, bouncing cheerfully along the flowerbeds that shone in all their radiant glory. Even better, now he wouldn't have to think about her at all and could instead concentrate on trying to make sense of the information Saito had provided him with. A house at the edge of Dunkelwald… a soldier with green-black hair… and Battousai. 

*~* 

Hiko Seijurou had just finished to tell his brother the story of King Kamiya- the tragedy of the life of one girl who had been turned into something she was not, yet could not escape. Like a flower forced to become a poisonous weed, he said. Shimajirou had listened silently, watching the play of Seijurou's fire in the lines on his face. His brother had aged, though not by much. The men and women of the Hiko line had always been granted a long and healthy life and youthful appearance… 

"And what have you been up to these past… twenty-five years, Shimajirou?" The forty-three year-old swordsmaster asked. Yes, what had he been up to… Shimajirou intently studied the intricate pattern of the _Same_ on his sword's hilt, the black cord that made up the wrapping- all traditional in the crossover-style- slightly frayed where it had been touched by his hands so often. This sword was what had held his life together all this time, it was the one he had received when he first entered into Dunkelland's armed services… 

He had kept in touch with his family, loosely, until Seijurou had turned eighteen, then had completely shifted his alliances over to the Royals his father had despised so much. He had tried to forget about his family, had put his brother out of his mind, ambitious, cunning, sarcastic, genius Seijurou… and had found his completion in serving with the Palace Guard once his talent with a sword had been realized. Even though he had never been able to hold his own against his brother who was ten years his junior his skill level was well above average and he had found peace when wielding a sword for his King. 

He had met the little boy Shinta, and had sent him to safety. He had harbored doubts and fears and had redoubled his efforts and his shows of loyalty. He had been made the captain of the Palace Guard in reward, and he had decided that his single transgression against his vow was not that bad. He had become a weapon in the hands of the King, a passive servant happy to answer to every beck and call. 

And then he had met her. He had met the one woman who had startled him out of his peaceful meditative servicing, who had seduced him and had him come to her like a dog that had been called by its master. She had loved him, used him, left him- all of that in the span of a single year, almost eighteen years ago. And still, Shimajirou had continued to serve, had pushed his pain and suffering and lost love behind him, not even attempting to try and see her again despite her closeness. 

He had tried to forget about her, had tried to put the image of blue eyes and a brilliant smile more beautiful than a sunrise out of his mind and had failed. And still he had served, a silent shadow in the hallways of Dunkelland Castle. 

When the tales about Battousai became wilder and wilder, he had remembered his transgression, and it had come back to haunt him, like her eyes did. Shimajirou had not slept well this past year. It had continued to erode his need for safety, his desire for something steady in his life, until he had helped the injured young man that was recovering on Seijurou's bed to reach his former master, Shimajirou's former, and now again, brother, Seijurou. 

"I have been a soldier for the King," Shimajirou said, having thought enough about his life and what he had failed to do or had done. 

"And I have been a swordsmaster- now tell me what has happened." Seijurou's sharp, intelligent eyes bore into his brother's soul. And Shimajirou answered by telling his tale- while his brother listened with a patient attentiveness he would have never thought Seijurou capable of. 

"So you have had a lover and I never knew anything about her?" Seijurou smirked. "She is the queen of the Amazons now? You certainly have moved up in rank, brother." 

"I think she is the Queen- I don't know anything about her anymore." Shimajirou hung his head in something that was almost shame. 

"Why don't you know?" Seijurou didn't know a lot about customs of foreign countries, or politics, but something as the name of the woman who was the Queen of his neighboring country he would be able to get to know rather easily. 

"When a princess of the Amazons is made queen she takes on the name of Hippolyte. I have no way of knowing whether Hippolyte XIX. is the woman I loved or not, she is the mother of all Amazons, and as such will never ever want anything to do with a simple soldier." 

"Who knows?" His brother clapped him friendly onto the shoulder. "Perhaps you have a son somewhere that you have never seen…" 

"I don't hope so!" Shimajirou exclaimed, looking truly horrified at the… yes, was it at the prospect of having continued the Hiko line or having a son that shocked him? 

"Why?" Seijurou nagged, a small grain of his sarcasm etching into his voice, "afraid he'll turn out to be as… dense as you are?" 

"No. But the Amazons don't treat male children very well." Shimajirou didn't want to elaborate on that, and Seijurou was sensitive enough to his brother's emotions- via his _ki_, of course- that he knew better than to pry. 

"And how was your life with the little redhead?" Shimajirou's kin jerked into the direction of a very still and pale figure under a thin, but soft and warm blanket. 

"You have certainly sent me a very stupid little apprentice!" Seijurou laughed, launching into childhood tales that the slumbering man, had he been able to hear his master telling them, would have found most embarrassing. 

*~* 

Megumi was neither uneasy nor overly confident facing Saito. She was just herself- calm, composed, pale and a little fragile. The chief investigator had asked her to discard her veil, and the medicine woman had done his bidding as a show of good faith, obscuring her face behind a thin line of shadows from her hood only. She had had to take the risk, knowing that Saito might remember the young maid that had been with his soldier the day Battousai fled. Not doing what was asked of her would have aroused certain suspicion, however, so she simply hoped for the best while pulling her cloak's wide hood farther over her face than usual. 

"You are aware of the fact that you were the last person to speak to Battousai before he fled?" The chief investigator did not believe in putting things off. His reputation preceded him, and suspects knew better than to try and lie to him. He could taste lies in the air, they were tangible in the crooked and blackened _ki_ of the liar and the wolf hated nothing more than the bad taste of untrue words. 

"_Before_ he fled, yes." She was not about to walk into the trap of lying. She had felt what Battousai was capable of, and that man radiated the same kind of a dangerously strong aura. 

"What did you tell him?" Saito would ask the easy questions first, of course. He would get her later by twisting and turning her own words around until she slipped. It was fortunate that the last searching party would return this afternoon, having been out all night and half of the day. 

"I told him where he was. He was feverish and not in a good condition. He could hardly speak, but I could see that he was unsettled by his surroundings. So I told him where he was." She had not lied once. Good. Now she would have to keep her careful dance up, in the same graceful manner telling and not telling Saito the things he demanded to know. 

"How could he get out of the chains? I was told that he was strung up by his crossed wrists- it is very nearly impossible to slip out of manacles when the wrists are crossed." Now came the risky part. She would have to take some of the blame for Battousai's escape, not enough that it would actually warrant punishment, but enough not to be suspicious. 

"I asked him to be lowered to the floor and unchained, Chief Investigator. I was to treat him and keep him alive, and if I could not really work on him that would have been impossible." 

"Who did your bidding?" She breathed easier now. She had avoided taking all the blame. 

"My escort, Sir. Unfortunately, neither of us had the keys to the prisoner's chains, and as I didn't know where the Chain Master had gone to I asked him to use a wayward piece of metal as a lever and simply break the lock." 

"Ah." Seemingly, that explained some unclear point in the chief investigator's reconstruction of the events. 

"Who was your escort?" Megumi's breath hitched. What should she say? She pressed a hand to her heart and tried to calm the frantically fluttering bird that seemed to have forgotten its duty of pumping blood through her body. 

"His name was… Sanosuke or something. I don't know much about him, as soon as he wasn't needed anymore he went off with a castle maid." No lies there- _she_ had been the castle maid, but there were no lies. 

"Typical," Saito snorted shortly, taking in the exhausted look on the white face of the polite and refined woman in front of him. The medicine woman was pretty young for someone so good at her craft, but the lines of pain, sorrow and worry around her mouth- apart from her eyes the only feature of her that he could clearly see- gave her a wisdom and maturity beyond her years. She was ill, he remembered, having been told by the King that he was not to stress her out too much. She was needed, and she was weak. He would have to analyze her words now, there was not much more information she could give him. She could not have helped Battousai run- he had already inquired as to what she had done to treat his read-haired menace, and she was in no condition to do both this and organize and pull off a flight. She had not done anything against the King's wishes. And she had not said anything untrue, even though some of her answers had been carefully crafted not to reveal too much information. No, the medicine woman was beyond reproach, as much as it galled him. 

"Do you wish assistance in leaving?" he asked, forcefully polite. She shook her head, one slim hand reaching for her veil. 

"I will have to go to the kitchens first, give them the King's medicine for tonight." Her voice was melodious and clear, and he could not help but think that he had heard it somewhere else before- somewhere where there was no medicine woman in sight. She was a mystery… and Saito's job was to unravel them. Perhaps she was not beyond reproach just yet- only out of his immediate suspicion. 

"Farewell, chief investigator Saito," she said, walking away from him. She was too controlled- that was what had struck him as suspicious. Her story was too tight- nobody had such a minute-to-minute recollection of everything that happened almost a day before. He would order that she was watched and followed. 

*~* 

"Do you remember me?" Innocuous blue eyes peered at him out of the darkness. Frowning, he tried to find out where he was by swiveling his head around, but had to give it up after finding that the pair of eyes was the only thing he could see at all. 

"You don't remember me?" A face accompanied the eyes now, a face he felt he should know. But then, he did not know very much these days. 

"I didn't think you wouldn't remember me." The hurt look on the eerie, disembodied face made him swallow heavily. Had he just betrayed someone? What else would cause this deeply wounded expression? If only he could find his memories! But they were lost, buried somewhere in the darkness, along the way he had come. 

"If you don't remember me, then why are you here?" A valid question. Why was he wherever it was that he was? He didn't even know how he had gotten here, he had lost his memories, a little, light traveling bag he had studiously clung to until he had had to give it up to go on. He remembered losing the bag, but nothing before. 

"Who are you?" If I could answer that question, he thought, it would mean that I have already lived my life and have reached its end, finding answers that even the greatest of philosophers couldn't provide. I don't think that's the case yet, so I forgo answering to that question. A sarcastic smile played around his upper lip, curling it from the middle outwards. 

"A very wise and good answer. You are not a fool, and I am happy that this is so. So let me rephrase: what is your name?" A name? He had a name? Names were smoke on the wind, changed so easily- they held no sway over whoever was addressed by them, and he had not given them a thought ever since losing his little bag of memories. 

"That is not so wise. A name has great power- when it calls, the Named will answer while the Unnamed will remain behind. I ask again: what is your name? Ponder this question! I will be back." 

He sat down in the darkness, strangely finding a comfortable ground he couldn't see to rest on. Wherever or whatever this place was, it seemed to adjust to his needs. A name- he just needed a name and he would perhaps get a chance to ask the blue eyes a few questions of his own. But then- without his memories, how would he know his name? He didn't have his real name, but that wouldn't prevent him from being called what he was. 

"My name is Lost One," he answered, the darkness lifting a little from his eyes as he called out to it. Attached to the suddenly reappearing face was a body now, a slight and small body; the body of a child. 

"Lost One you are, and will be for some time. Lost One will be found, but only after finding the finder. What are you doing now, Lost One?" He realized for the first time that the sweet, high voice had a few difficulties pronouncing words, like a child whose body could not keep up with the demands of its brain. He grew tired of the questioning, as he never seemed to get answers. How could he be found if he himself had to actively go and find who was supposed to be finding _him_? It was the time to get some answers himself. 

"I am listening. Who are you, where am I, how did I get here and how do I go back?" He narrowed his eyes at the child in the shadows. 

"You have been listening, and now you are asking. Lost One asking will get answers. I am Lost, too, but I am also Hidden and Eternal. I am Inside and Past. And I am You. I don't know what else I am as my existence has not yet come to an end. You are Here, you Came, and you will Go when the time has come. What do you hope to find here?" 

"Quit with the riddles. Show me your face!" The darkness lifted, the dim light blinding enough so that he had to shield his eyes with his arm. The body and face became solid- in front of him, indeed, was a child. A very small, lithe child with huge lavender-blue eyes, red hair and a slash across his cheek that was dripping blood down his slender neck. He looked up at him, at his angry scowl, without fear, without anger. He simply looked. 

"You have asked to see me," he said, the words unbefitting his childish face. He blinked, once, twice, then tore his eyes away from the angry blaze that was his visitor's gaze. "You are angry, that is not right." 

He stumbled back in shock and anger. The face that greeted him was one he knew too well- if it was only aged a little, if the huge, blue-violet eyes were substituted for narrower, amber slits, he would look into his own face. 

"What is your name?" he whispered, swallowing his anger and feeling fear and wonder replace it. How could he talk to his younger self? 

"My name? You have forgotten it, so I don't know. But I am Here, I have always been Here ever since you didn't need me any more and discarded me for what you are now. Perhaps if you remember my name I can go away- I hate the dark and I fear it. You have made it light, but when you're gone I'll be all alone in the dark again. I hate the dark- please remember my- oh!" the child's eyes widened in surprise, "you are called! You have to leave now. Remember me, remember my name! Remember!" 

He was pulled away by a force greater than anything he could even try to resist, and before he realized it the child, the place and everything were gone and he was traveling again, traveling along a road he knew. It wasn't long before he saw the little bag of memories he had lost, and, steering towards it, he made his way back- home. 

*~* 

Sano was relieved his interrogation had gone so well- he had come out of it with only a week of double duty for failing to continue guarding Battousai and sneaking off with his love. He had gone through what he would say with Megumi a million times the last night, and had acted according to their plans. He had said 'love', as the medicine woman and Sekihoutai survivor hadn't wanted to give Saito more clues than necessary. Unfortunately, that meant that the creep Yano felt like he had gotten confirmation of Sano's sexual orientation, and to add to it he thought that the young soldier was over the King. He followed him around wherever he could, and Saito, or Aoshi, had thought it funny to pair the two up for their duties. Sano could not hide his disgust at Yano's moves, and that some of the other men had caught on and made offers they seemed to think irresistible had him walk around the castle constantly looking over his shoulder. 

"It's not fair- I like Megumi!" he grumbled, carefully checking that nobody had followed him before walking through the door into the kitchen. Nothing could take his mind off unwanted suitors like a nice snack… or meal… or meal with dessert…  
"Finally- took you long enough! What did you _do all this time?" He came face to face with the irate medicine woman. _

… to be continued … 

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_Umm… the end? Yup, I know that not that much happened here- but a little more Saito and Misao and Aoshi and Shimajirou (who will be disappearing again soon, so don't worry about an OC taking up too much space here!). _

_*nervous laugh* I started a Yahoo! group for update notifications- it's called Travel_Stories, so if you want to get an e-mail when I update just join. I will also upload html, rtf and txt files of my stories some time in the future- no promise there as I want to spend as much time as possible on writing and school started again on Monday, and if it was a nightmare before Christmas now Elms Street looks like a cozy place to spend the night. I have the equivalent of eight AP courses and exams, taking a ninth for extra credit next term (it's music- I said I wanted credit for playing at all their exhibitions and events, and they said the only way I could get it was to join the course. It won't be too much extra work…), and since exams are in May that leaves me with five more hellish months to get through. I'm horribly sorry, but what I have been afraid of ever since starting to post will happen: I can't keep up a constant pace. School comes first, especially if I want to get a scholarship, so I have to do a little extra reading in advance so the exams won't be too difficult. By the way- does anybody know a nice way to program Mandelbrodt sets? I like those little fractals! _

**_THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED! I'm sorry that I once again can't do individual thanks but I have to catch up to a week's worth of schoolwork! SORRY!_**

**Special thanks to**_: **Clymene**. You know what for ^.^x! THANK YOU!!!_

_Cya soon__!!! (and I promise sooner than this time!)_

_Chi _


	13. Dusk

_Ciao!!! _

_I am so horribly sorry this is once again late. I hope you'll accept my apology once you've heard my reasoning, though… so here goes nothing. After I was ill for one week, I had to make up for the time lost, meaning I had to cut down my sleeping time as there's no room during the day in my schedule. Then our headmaster came and told me that, unless I completely flunk my finals I'll graduate valedictorian and should start preparing a speech as he would like to go over it with me before term ends. Then there were the news that there is a special concert to be held at school, in honor of some sponsors coming by, and that one of them had specifically requested Franz Liszt's Liebesträume to be played on the piano, meaning Ryan and I were called upon as we're the only ones at the school who can learn them within two weeks, and the sponsors jumped to the idea of twins on stage and asked us to play another piece à quatre mains. Apart from the slight problem that I have no idea how to convey the idea of romantic love through music, seeing as I've never experienced it, this has added another hour of piano practice a day to my responsibilities, at least until this weekend, and the problem of Ryan and me synchronizing our timetables to practice together. Then I was taken up on an old offer I had made in a thoughtless moment and had to coach our debating team for their first ever competition along my English teacher, giving me even less time for schoolwork and practice, which meant simply less sleep. I had been running on two hours for two weeks, and it'd been getting to me. I had a very embarrassing little fainting episode in English class as I got up to teach and woke up in the infirmary (I go to a boarding school as a daytime only student, thus they have to have an infirmary) half an hour later, and the doctor they called said I never got over my influenza, simply hid the symptoms, that I was pretty weak and had to take it easy for at least a week. I told him I'd take it easy once this weekend was over and that I was fine, which was perhaps not the best or most diplomatic course of action since he demanded to talk to my parents, and since I'm underage there was nothing I could do to prevent his request from being fulfilled. Anyways, my parents were called, they asked what this was all about (my Mom hates being called away from her research), and the doctor asked whether they knew that their daughter was seriously overworking herself. Well, no amount of protest from my side helped (especially since Ry spilled the beans on me, saying he hadn't seen me sleep since I had been sick, traitor!), and my parents said they'd look into the matter and make sure that I'd rest. Unfortunately, for them that means I still do all my schoolwork, do a little less sports, and have my computer privileges taken from me. They don't understand that writing for me is relaxing… thus, I had no computer access at all this past two weeks, and am only getting half an hour a day at the moment until I'm declared all better again (and this damn concert is over come this weekend), so here's the story of why this chapter is late, and I hope you forgive me!!! Enjoy reading!!! _

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"…." Denotes talking 

….. denotes thinking 

*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place 

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**_This chapter is dedicated to my cousin, Néli. I wish I had your strength and courage, and I hope you know that only you writing to me and telling me what you have to endure has kept me going this week. Thanks, for living and for talking to me._**

**Chapter 13**

**Dusk******

After a _very_ heated argument with the medicine woman about taking far too long with the chief investigator, Sano found himself joining the other soldiers and officers that had just returned from an unsuccessful Battousai hunt on the field just outside the gates of Dunkelland Castle. Captain of the Palace Guard Shinomori Aoshi and chief investigator Saito had both issued the order, making the men very confused as to what this was about. Were they all to be punished for their failure in finding the number one enemy of the state? 

Being a rather pragmatic man, Sano had no such concerns. He rather tore himself to shreds about his interrogation with Saito. Had he given the chief investigator hints as to how and where Akai had fled? But he didn't even know himself where he had run, so how could he have told…? His face pale and drawn under the messy mop of brown hair Sano let his gaze wander over the impressive array of manpower that the army stationed in Dunkelland Castle was. Even though most of the men showed signs of exhaustion after nearly twenty hours of running after a phantom they still were a force to be reckoned with, and thinking that Battousai might be confronted by this force sent a fresh wave of guilt trickle through Sano's body, from his heart outward. Had he not been careful? Had he not successfully followed the spur-of-the-moment plan he and the medicine woman had drawn together? Had he… there was no use in accusing himself. Saito had eyes and ears all over the castle, he might have gotten information from other sources as well, and perhaps all this wasn't about Battousai after all. Just before the Sekihoutai had been forcefully disbanded they had somehow gotten a financially powerful sponsor, and maybe that man had caused other groups to rise to be a threat, and Saito now wanted to make sure that subjects of King Kamiya didn't take to the idea of freedom? 

Sano's heart was beating against his Adam's apple like the frantic wings of a hummingbird when Saito finally made an appearance. He was half expecting all the men on the field being ordered to commit _seppuku and half that the Amazons had declared war on Dunkelland because the King had kissed their princess without Misao's consent. _

"We have received word of Battousai's whereabouts. We have to make sure he doesn't get away again. Follow me through the forest, on the other side I will give you your orders." 

Neither was the case, but somehow Saito had found out where Akai was hiding- the stern face almost showed satisfaction as the chief investigator turned on his heel and briskly marched towards Dunkelwald. 

Akai… I hope you're alright. Sano had no choice but to follow, briefly wondering whether he might meet the stern soldier he had talked to the day before again. 

With a heavy heart and a sigh on her lips the medicine woman watched as the whole force marched off trying to catch a single man. Whatever King Kamiya and his advisors had thought when they issued that order, it clearly had not been thought through. Dunkelland Castle was bereft of defenses. Only Shinomori Aoshi and the Palace Guard, the Amazon envoy and the two royals were left. And somehow, that made the medicine woman feel very uneasy. Should an enemy choose to attack right now, the whole of Dunkelland would fall to him with virtually no struggle. Take the castle, put on the crown and barricade the entrance- soon, the army would have no choice but to accept the new overlord, and since the castle was very well equipped in case a siege should occur… the medicine woman shook her head, muttering under her breath and slipped back into her home, deciding that she should not concern herself with politics. There were still so many scrolls to read, and the King would certainly call on her again that evening, demanding a sleeping draught and something to soothe upset nerves. 

Saito had them marching very fast- about half of the men was out of breath by the time they were halfway through the forest. By the time Dunkelwald lay behind them it was already evening, and Sano himself was feeling rather winded. He didn't know whether he could fight to his best in the state he was in, but at least the rest of the soldiers and officers, apart from the unfathomable Saito, suffered the same fate. He would not hesitate to buy Battousai- Akai, his friend Akai- the time he would need to escape again, no matter what the cost to himself would be. Sano was not that fickle as a friend- even his own life was something he would give willingly if it saved someone he thought worthy of being called a friend. 

The evening was quiet and serene, the cold of the night only slowly seeping through the scattered trees that marked the border of the deep, dark forest. Freshly ploughed soil tantalized the nose, its rich odor pleasant, old and cool. Saito sniffed the air, as though he wanted to make out Battousai's scent, then nodded to himself. It would be a clear night, no thunderstorms or surprise rainclouds. A perfect night to hunt a demon as the moon would soon rise and lend enough light that he would not be able to slip away unnoticed. 

Facing the Dunkelland Castle forces, Saito quickly relayed his orders. The men fanned out in a broad semicircle, tighter at the front since they would flare out to circumfered Battousai's hiding place from there. The Amazons' country lay just behind the hills that were indistinct black shadow in the distance, and Sato knew from what the Amazon princess had told him that Battousai's lair had to be near where he was standing. Dunkelland forest had a somewhat triangular shape, with Dunkelland Castle lying close to the middle on the longest side and the Amazon border coming close to the forest only where it ran into a point. Their target area was small enough- now the prey only had to be cornered, caught and killed. He appreciated a good chase, but after almost five years of constantly hunting a shadow even the wolfish chief investigator got impatient. Battousai would go down today- and the King had not ordered him caught alive. 

Saito pulled his _katana_ from its sheath, reveling in the reflection of the rising moon on the expertly crafted steel. The blade caught and mirrored the moon's light like the even waves of the calm sea, and the chief investigator allowed himself a feral smile as he pointed it forward. "Go!" he whispered, a whisper that carried through all the ranks because of the force with which it was issued, and they all went, following their pack leader. 

*~* 

King Kamiya sighed and relaxed into his bath. Never had a hot bath felt so good, not even after a long day of training hard. The King had survived something far more taxing and dangerous after all- an afternoon with a princess who was hell-bent on getting a kiss from him. 

After Kamiya had met Misao in his private gardens he had walked around with the lively girl, showing her the plants that had been presents from Kings from afar, basking in her delight as she sniffed on the delicate flowers of a specially protected orange tree that was among his most prized possessions. In the continental climate of Dunkelland such a delicate plant seldom survived, but the King's gardeners had chosen the warmest corner in the whole garden for it to grow, and had built a small house of glass that could be put around the small tree when winter came. For a moment, Kamiya had felt like laughing, especially after Misao had wrinkled her nose and had declared the plant's pollen as 'clearly a potent means to make me sneeze- but Mother forbid me to openly do so, so I beg your pardon'- she had pulled a large handkerchief out of the sleeve of her beautiful gown then and turned around to let loose a thunderous sneeze. Etiquette, however, prevented the King from laughing, and so Kamiya had simply smiled politely and had offered the princess his arm. "Shall we continue, then?" 

Things had deteriorated from there. Somehow, the princess had taken the offering of his arm as an invitation to hang all over him, cling to him as though he were her lifeline, and chatter about her childhood in the Amazon castle. 

Not that it was not very interesting to listen to the tales of a princess growing up, but what really unnerved Kamiya was the constant mentioning of his captain of the Palace Guard. He had even counted it once- she managed to say 'Aoshi' thrice in two sentences' time. Of course, she always had a condescending air to her when she spoke about him- an independent and spirited young woman who had been brought up believing in her superiority had a problem with what she thought was a traitor to her ways. Not to mention that she oftentimes forgot that she was in male company- the King's equally strong spirit and belief in _his_ right to rule made her thing she was in the company of a female, most likely her sister. 

Kamiya hid his pained grimaces when the topic of conversation turned to his trusted Palace Guard captain once more. It was just the… tenth time in as many minutes that Princess Misao had managed to change the topic to him. "My captain of the Palace Guard is a very interesting and able man indeed, princess," he said wearily, "but what I really wanted to talk to you about was-" 

Misao's face lighted up in shameful recognition. She had just remembered something her mother had told her. In her youth, the queen of the Amazons had been a very sought after woman. She had advised Misao on how to get a man to like her, and just now one of her lessons popped into the princess's mind. Don't ever talk about another man when your fiancé is there. And if you do, make it up to him by kissing him and make him feel that he's the most important man in your life, Mother said. I have to kiss the King! Princess Misao didn't know whether she should be appalled or simply enraged about what she had brought upon herself. 

"Princess Misao?" Kamiya spoke to her. Misao smiled seductively and giggled. 

"Could you repeat that, my dear King?" Oh dear, this was going to be more difficult than she thought. Her whole body shook in revulsion at the behavior she forced herself to display. It was totally against her nature, but she clung tighter to the King's offered arm. Now to kiss… she didn't even really _know_ how to kiss! Perhaps he knows… and we're in a nice, secluded corner of his garden right now, so… she puckered her lips and waited. 

Princess Misao clearly was distracted. As King Kamiya tried to tell her about Dunkelland, its history, culture and economy she just started shivering next to him, muttering things under her breath about not knowing something and then attacked his poor arm with the force of a vise as she moved her lips uncomfortably close to his face. The King shied away, trying to dislodge the clinging girl, but he had not inserted Misao's natural stubbornness into the equation. 

She moved ever closer the more he tried to pull away, and by the time they had maneuvered themselves into what was called the 'Lover's Corner' of the King's garden the kissing-or-no-kissing problem had developed into a full game of tug-of-war. The King pulled into the one direction, the princess into the other and when they both decided that it all wasn't worth it and relented their arms snapped apart with enough force to send them both tumbling onto the ground. 

Misao started laughing helplessly as she took in the King's undignified pose. Kamiya lay spread-eagled on the ground and had trouble getting up again. She wasn't that much better off, either, but at least she climbed to her feet quickly and gracefully- until she stumbled again and it was Kamiya's turn to laugh. 

"You are clumsy, you Highness," she laughed, aqua green eyes twinkling. 

"I am not clumsy- I merely hoped to break the ice," Kamiya retorted, trying too sound dignified but sending Misao into another fit of hapless laughter instead. He got up and extended a hand to help her, and suddenly she was standing beside him again- and kissed him on the cheek. 

Horrified, Kamiya whirled around and overbalanced, falling for the second time. And while he had certainly found that situation amusing Misao's next target had been his mouth, and he had had a very hard time of evading her advances. 

More than once, the topic of going on the hunt for the dangerous Battousai had come up, but he had firmly denied her the right to leave the castle. She was his guest, and if anything happened to the daughter of the Amazon queen he would provoke a diplomatic disaster. Misao had pouted and given him icy glares all through dinner, until he finally distrusted her enough to assign captain Shinomori Aoshi as her personal guard to ensure she would not run after the demon Battousai on her own. Kamiya didn't blame her for her curiosity- he had been possessed by the same spirit until he had actually encountered the criminal and had found that he was even stronger than what everybody believed. 

Misao had given in by the end of their evening together, and Kamiya had gone to a relaxing, peaceful bath. Which he was enjoying to the moment, and had no intention to end early just because of the incessant banging on the door of his private bathing chambers and the calls of a certain Amazon princess of how nice it would be to share a bath. Luckily, there was no way she could get inside- the only key to the chamber was his, and was currently hanging from the inside of the locked door awaiting the King's return from his bath. 

"But Kamiya, how are we to get to know each other better if we don't even _do_ anything together? At home, I would always bathe with Mother, Sister and the warriors!" Kamiya sighed and dunked his head underwater. The noise lessened that way at least, now he would only have to solve the little breathing dilemma… 

*~* 

When he had felt the massive congregation of living people too close to his home for comfort Hiko Seijurou already suspected something was wrong. His suspicions were even strong enough for him to act upon, ordering his brother to prepare himself for leaving Seijurou's home and going into hiding along with 'that baka deshi you dropped on my doorstep _again_'. Shimajirou, while his sense of _haragei, his sphere of watchfulness in which he could see with more than his eyes alone, didn't compare to Seijurou's in size or clarity still was good enough to notice that something was seriously wrong- and thus had strong objections to his brother's plans. It was no wonder he was tenser than a bowstring pulled taut, trying to decipher Seijurou's calm, yet furious, face. _

"I would prefer to stay," Shimajirou finally ground out. He had found his brother, after a quarter century of near-complete separation, and was very reluctant to let go of his relation so soon again. Even though he didn't doubt Seijurou's ability in the least, he had trained with the army himself, and knew from more than telltale what they were capable of. And perhaps… perhaps it wasn't just the army, but also that chief investigator, the Hunter himself, Saito. Saito Hajime. 

"I know. But he," Seijurou jerked his chin in the direction of his bed where a too-still, too-pale figure lay covered in bandages, a thin sheen of sweat and Seijurou's thin blanket, "he won't. He hasn't woken up since yesterday." 

"And he won't for some time yet- Kenshin's fighting the fever, the infection and the wounds on and in his body with all he's got, he can't afford consciousness." Shimajirou grimaced. When he had been the captain of the Palace Guard, he's had to deal with more than one village uprising, and he had tended to the wounded of his force himself because he had been the only one with at least rudimentary medical knowledge. Usually, cases such as that of Seijurou's student were left behind as unsalvageable- too little prospect for success. 

"He was stupid and has to pay the price. He should have listened to me." As cold as that statement sounded, Shimajirou had come to be able to detect the finest traces of emotion that were all that marked his brother's speech, and what he could see was guilt deeper and wider than the river that ran along the border of Dunkelland. Seijurou was tearing himself to pieces because he didn't stop the redhead from leaving, because he didn't use the full force of his body and word, and because he had let his emotions get the better of him and drive his baka deshi even further away. 

"He should have. But the past is the past, Seijurou." Gentle admonishment coupled with the wisdom of the ten-year age gap. Shimajirou was the worse fighter, there was no denying it, he hadn't even mastered the Hiko family style Seijurou had taught to the spitfire known as Battousai- and what a spitfire he had been, the stories Seijurou had told sounded almost unbelievable!- but he was better in dealing with other people as Seijurou preferred seclusion. 

Seijurou tensed, almost imperceptible under the wide white mantle he had thrown across his shoulders with haphazard elegance. He would send his baka deshi and his brother off to the shelter he had built with his own hands, to guard things he should not lawfully possess- like the Hiko family weapons, for example. Swords had been made illegal to anyone outside the King's loyal forces a few years earlier, after the first killings of Battousai had rattled Dunkelland. Seijurou was not about to give up the precious heirlooms, however, and had thus ensured that nobody would ever find them- apart from his brother, of course. 

"Hurry and pack. They will be here sooner than later, and don't forget to take this one with you so you can dump him on my doorstep for the third time once all of this is over," Seijurou grunted while lifting another heavy log to add fuel to the roaring fire that protected the shivering young man on his bed from hypothermia. 

"I am all set, brother," Shimajirou showed his younger sibling an oblong traveling sack filled with water, food, medicine and bandages enough to last for four days. 

"You should take a weapon with you, to be safe," Seijurou remarked, letting his gaze linger on the empty spot on Shimajirou's right hip where normally a _katana_ hung. 

"I will not take what the King has given me to stand against him," Shimajirou answered quietly, the challenge remaining unspoken. Seijurou should only try to convince him otherwise, and he would… 

"I would not do this to you, brother." To Shimajirou's surprise, Seijurou reached behind a ledge atop the chimney and pulled from it a sheath similar to his own. "It's our uncle's. You know it's the twin blade to our father's, which I carry." 

"Thank you." Shimajirou accepted the sword without further ado- it was much better to enter the forest armed, Dunkelwald was no playground for little children after all, and the sounds of its hunters were only too familiar to the man. He had gotten to know them before the great falling out, when he had run wild with Seijurou in the woods, had trained the art of _iaido_ and_ kenjutsu_ under his father and uncle, the twin brothers who were so similar yet different and had, according to Seijurou, died one shortly after the other from a mysterious fever after he had left the family. 

"Do you still know the way to…?" Seijurou couldn't finish the sentence. He only hoped his brother hadn't forgotten, after all, the memory of their secret place was one of the most treasured of his childhood, and it had been the feeling of security he had had with his older brother around in this place that he had started to build the shelter there Replaying the scenes of two laughing boys chewing on the sweet tips of the new branches of the firs while escaping from yet another lecture from their father and uncle, sitting on a log, a branch, the riverbank, a nice, dry spot under a fir… the past was long gone, but with Shimajirou here it came alive again, and Seijurou hoped that it would stay that way. 

Shimajirou didn't disappoint him. "Of course. Who would forget a place like that?" And he meant it. The small creek, the feeling of a secret, the wild, dry-musky smell of the woods in summer… his childhood had been a happy one. Until he had met the current Hippolyte. 

Shimajirou shoved the memory of the woman he had loved- still loved, if he was really honest with himself- into the farthest corner of his mind. He could not afford to be distracted. Lifting his bundle onto his back he waited for Seijurou to make the first parting gesture, yet his brother only stood there, watching him. 

"There's nothing that can kill a Hiko, Shimajirou- and me twice not," his trademark smirk was back, in his eyes as well as on his lips, "so if you don't want to pale in comparison you should better get going. They won't even be able to tell what hit them." Arrogance, self-confidence, reassurance. As young as Seijurou had been when he had left, these attributes had only become more prominent with age. 

"I certainly hope so, brother- if you don't underestimate them in your youthful innocence then everything should be alright." Teasing his younger brother had been one of Shimajirou's favorite pastimes, and he was just getting back into the habit. 

"I hope you make it to the shelter and don't collapse because your bones can't take the weight of my baka deshi in your old age," Seijurou shot back before frowning. The soldiers were on the move, and in order for them to find only a single swordsmaster living as a hermit Shimajirou and Kenshin had to go- now. 

"Until we meet again, brother," he said, literally shoving Shimajirou out the door, "and don't forget that." He effortlessly lifted the slight figure of his student into his brother's arms, a slight hint of worry creasing his perfectly composed face when the unconscious young man gave a moan of pain. 

"Until we meet again," Shimajirou said back, slowly disappearing into the dense underbrush that marked the beginning of Dunkelwald. 

Once more into the mean, dark forest, he thought, adjusting Kenshin's weight in his arms and that of the bag on his back. He would have to travel for a half an hour, after all. 

*~* 

When he took every factor into account, after careful deliberation and weighing his options, the current situation only left one avenue open to him: he had to act. Calling Shishio to him had merely been the first step on his road to conquest, now he would have to make sure that each and every single part of his well-oiled machinations was in place and would start to turn as smoothly as he wanted it to would he give the signal. His daughter, the distinguished, powerful embodiment of grace also known as the crown princess of the Amazons, was more respected and loved than ever. His son, shrewd, calculating, strong and impressive traveled through Dunkelland, furthering their cause. His minions, useless, powerless, spineless and easily replaced as they were had all taken their position. His allies, quite numerous and not unimportant, were prepared to speak on his behalf. His commanders, few and partly relied upon though not trusted, awaited his commands. And his enemies… the most dangerous of them was out of the picture for the moment, the most influential had forgotten his common sense and had given in to his thirst for revenge, the most powerful of them was severely weakened and would topple and fall if he just gave a little shove and the most incalculable still was an unknown figure in the equation. 

Nonetheless, he deemed the time right to implement the first- and hopefully last- stage of his grand operation. He would reclaim what had always been rightfully his, and his family's. 

"Are the messengers ready?" He inquired, twirling his glass filled with expensive, alcoholic amber liquid, his one vice he would not give up, in his long, strong fingers. 

"They are, my Lord. The castle is bereft of its defenses, as the Wolf is out hunting his favorite prey. The Shadow has not left the premises, but our forces should not find it hard to deal with him and his men. The Maid has not left the King's company and might be used to our advantage. The King has retired early, but has been sought out by the Maid and has been engaged in conversation with her since I left. My guesses are that his attention will remain on her for some time yet. Your son is up north, as per your orders, and will throw the first torch if you send the message." Shishio hated talking in code as his lord demanded, he hated bowing to a man whose name wasn't even known to him. He hated dealing with his sycophant underlings, and he hated the fact that he wasn't powerful enough to overthrow the monarchy on his own. 

"The castle is ripe for the taking then. The people are awaiting the signal to be unleashed- Koshijirou has been a fool, following my advice for too long a time, and his son is no better. The country will fall to us with a single strike, and the people will be unaware they substitute one King for the other without any differences between them- except that the new power in Dunkelland will be _me_." The force with which the final word was delivered sent the tall, pony-tailed man reeling. That was why he had joined the Lord in the first place- this sheer _determination_, this_ ruthlessness_! 

"I shall send the message, then. The birds are ready to fly." He bowed, this time without the galling feeling that he gave himself up. He had simply chosen his allies wisely. He had simply decided to take one step at a time. 

"Make sure the agents follow their instructions. I don't want any suspicious glances to fall upon our faction. And… I drink to our victory, Shishio!" He raised the half-drained glass- but at the moment it was not half empty, it was, contrary to his usual view of the world, half full. Auspicious signs had been seen in the birds' flight this morning, Battousai was unable to interfere, and the King was too… passive to even notice what was happening. There would be no time for deliberation, the revolution would be short, swift, bloody, successful. He had, after all, spent more than half his life in preparation for this day. 

*~* 

Megumi would have preferred anything to dealing with both the King and the Amazon princess at once. She would even have preferred a talk to the Master of the Chains in his cozy apartment down in the dungeons to the downright life-threatening environment dinner with these two women- _girls_, she reminded herself, reveling in the advantage her slightly older age gave her. _Why_ the King had insisted she join her and Princess Misao dining was no longer a mystery to her- clearly, Kamiya- _Her_ name is _Kaoru!- was terrified of the prospect of being alone with the vivacious Amazon and her pursed, pink and rather pretty lips that longed to stray after her gazes, away from her fork and onto equally pretty kingly lips. Any company was preferable to that in Kamiya's mind, and so the medicine woman delivering her tea for the night had been a welcome and easily snatched victim. That she was stern and silent whenever she wasn't snappish as far as etiquette allowed didn't change Kamiya's views in the slightest. _

Megumi suffered through what she remembered as the _third rendition of how a young kitchen helper named Aoshi had saved the princess's kitten from starving to death in a tree, this time with a few angry soldiers chasing him mixed into the heroic tale when an icy feeling made her heart skip a beat. _

What… something happened, was her first thought, which was dismissed as fast as it had come up. There was nothing that could happen- she was safe at Dunkelland Castle, and apart from King Kamiya dying from boredom there was no danger visible anywhere. 

"… and then Aoshi… is something the matter?" The sharp, aqua green eyes of the Amazon princess tried to burn a hole through the medicine woman's dark veil. 

"Nothing, nothing at all, Your Highness," Megumi answered a little too quickly. 

"What is it, medicine woman?" Kamiya demanded sharply. Megumi sighed, then held her breath and quickly reconsidered denying that anything was wrong. This was her chance to escape the hellish setting she had been dragged into. 

"I beg your forgiveness, my King, but my heart demands that I rest. May I be excused?" She held her breath _now_. Had she been anyone else this breach of etiquette would have meant certain and swift death. As the invaluable source of the King's sleeping helpers, however… 

"Certainly, medicine woman. I wouldn't want to lose you, after all!" Kamiya chuckled, in a generous mood due to the medium-sized, now empty, carafe of wine next to his- equally empty- glass. His eyes only widened in horror _after_ Megumi had risen and bowed. He had to face the Amazon princess on his own now! 

*~* 

Dusk had fallen, silently, a shroud upon the world that would soon smother any trace of sunlight. The stars would rule the night but before that came a brilliantly orange, violently red sunset. And with it came strangled cries, the rasp of swords flashing from their sheaths and glimpses of uniformed figures running from the scenes. Doves, more than usual, flew through the serene skies above Dunkelland, harbingers of death, bringers of the night, their message turning anything they should symbolize into its opposite. Clashes of steel followed in their wake, angry shouts and harsh wails of pain and fury. 

Witnesses of the scenes agreed upon only one common thing: the Dunkelland Castle uniforms the killers wore. The cries of fury and outrage grew in volume, and this time they had a target. Grief, accumulated in more than a decade, served to add fuel to the fire. Soon, the shouts had become roars, and it wasn't long before the first farming tool was raised in a defiant gesture, turned into an instrument of war. Ploughs to weapons, instead of what it should have been. And the doves continued to streak across the skies, ignorant of the uproar they left in their wake… 

… to be continued … 

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_*grins* Little twists in here, ne? I'm sorry this didn't come out earlier, but there has been so much to do for school... I feel a little tired at the moment, and not really as though I'm fifteen- but then, I don't even know how fifteen's supposed to feel like. Anyways, SL should be out in two to three days as well…and to anyone who manages to guess the identity of the Lord and penultimate Master of Evil I will dedicate a short story/one-shot, to be delivered by e-mail and posted only a week later. Happy guessing! _

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**Reviewer's corner**

**ixchen**_: Thanks and Cya soon!_

**CurlsofSerenity**_: Hoope that all riddles will be solved in time- tell me if I forget anything, please!_

**Natsuko**_: Had a hard time at school, so sorry this is late... I don't want to go to Yale or Harvard, from what I've heard they're all about how great and intelligent those who made it there are, and I hate bragging. So I'll look for a quiet, little law school somewhere else ^.^ *grins* the 'do you remember me'- scene is one of my favorites... took me long enough to write. ARGH! Hope your schoolwork doesn't kill you! Thanks for everything!!!_

**Ari and Kat**_: Updating, if late... sorry!_

**flyinangel**_: Sorry it took so long!_

**^_^**_: *grins* The whole dream sequence is the beginning of the romance plot... it has to do with my understanding of love, which I developed through reading and talking to a lot of people (among them my parents... *blush*). IMO the basis for love is trust, acceptance and understanding, and to be able to have these for someone else you have to first know yourself- so basically the dream is telling Kenshin to pull himself together and finally remember his past so that he can move on... ARGH! Now I wrote a major spoiler, hope you don't mind!_

**missaw**_*hides in corner* Couldn't update sooner- typed my fingers off to get this out two days after I got my laptop back..._

**monique**_Thanks! Won't keep you waiting for that long again (I hope)._

**Felina**_: Thanks! Néli advised me on the humorous parts... thanks again^-^!_

**the sacred night**_: Culture shock is something I'm quite familiar with... glad you liked this chapter! Whether Misao is obsessing about Aoshi or not... well, this chapter solves that, right?_

**taku**_: Thank you!_

**THANKS TO ALL WHO REVIEWED AND ONCE AGAIN A BIG SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE!!!**

**Special thanks to**: **_Clymene_**, **_YYHgurl_** _and_ _**Starz4122 **_- made my day by putting me on your favorites list!__

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_Thanks for leaving a review! Next post either in a week's time or when the counter reaches 150. Cya soon!!! _

_Chi _


	14. Dawn

_Ciao!!! _

_As promised, the next chapter. I have to thank Néli for making me able to keep my promises. You guys are awesome, and seem to want the next chapter pretty badly… *chuckles* so I won't keep you any longer. Enjoy reading!!!_

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"…." Denotes talking 

….. denotes thinking 

*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place 

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**_This chapter is dedicated to my cousin and beta reader, Néli. Keep smiling, keep living, and keep that strength! You're wonderful the way you are, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!_ **

**Chapter 14 **

**Dawn**

Curling into himself in an attempt to limit the surface he exposed to the crisp, pre-dawn air King Kamiya was intensely aware of the uncomfortable jabbing of broken twigs and branches into the tender muscles of his back, and the way his sweat had hardened into a smelly, cold, salty coating on his skin. His raw hands complained when he tried to grab the edges of his coat to wrap them even tighter around his thin body. His bleeding and blistered feet made themselves audible with his soft groan as they hit the broken, rotting trunk of a tree that had been the victim of the last great storm ravaging his country. Ex-country. 

Shifting and twitching miserably, the King allowed himself another moan of displeasure. He didn't ever imagine himself in _this_ kind of situation, never in all his life had he thought of sleeping unprotected and alone in the wilderness. Unprotected, alone, uncomfortable, cold, stiff, injured _and_ surrounded by nothing but woods and savage beasts. 

One of these beasts was currently eying him curiously, the red glint in its eyes unmistakably malicious- or perhaps just a reflection off the dried leaves on the ground and the fluffy fur on its tail. As soon as the King's gaze had settled on the small squirrel it scampered away, chittering angrily at the intruder from the safety of its perch high on the trunk of a nearby tree. Kamiya scowled at it, projecting his despair and loss at the innocent creature. He had had his life ripped from underneath his feet in the matter of a few hours after all, so he was entitled to a little bitterness. 

"Damn. Damn Shishio. Damn Gohei. Damn that strange white-haired freak who ripped my cloak. Damn that old fool who…" he drifted off, unable to muster the energy to continue cursing. All gone. His life, his purpose in life, who he was, what he was, what he was going to be, and what he had been. All gone with the sweep of a strange, broad sword, the clanging of ploughs turned into battering rams against the castle doors, vanished on the wings of the pigeons swarming through the sweet-smelling evening air. He had lost. He _was_ lost. He was nothing, not even worth mentioning any more. Why else would his escape have been so easy? Nobody had bothered sending him a second glance, it was clear that the rightful King of Dunkelland didn't warrant the label 'dangerous'. Instead, he had been sent running like a mangy dog from his own home, slipping out from the side entrance at the medicine woman's hut under the cover of a ripped and dirtied cloak that had never even been regal to begin with. 

Kamiya slammed his fists into the soft, squishy forest ground, instantly regretting his action as pain spread through the numbness. He had rope-burned his palms and fingers when that freak had robbed him of his only hope at defending himself- he had not even had to exert himself. Kamiya had prided himself on his swordsmanship, had been able to stand against Saito and Aoshi- but then, the two had held back, as had been evidenced when the captain of the Palace Guard had started fighting for real- to protect his new home, his King and… the Amazon princess. 

A gasp tore from the King's throat- where was the little spitfire girl? Misao… she had been chatting amiably with him over a chessboard after their rather… strenuous dinner. He had pleaded with her to avoid saying Aoshi's name in a last attempt to save face- he would have gone insane if he had had to hear the kitten story once again, or be reminded of how heroic his Palace Guard was. Apparently, Misao was very interested in Aoshi's men as well- she seemed to look for more than just the tall, black-haired fighter. The King sighed defeatedly- another mystery he would never solve, for as he moved his knight in a strategic position, aiming to take out the white queen in a few moves- Misao played white, as she claimed she always did- chaos had descended upon the noble home of the Dunkelland royals. 

Tears welling up in his eyes the King recounted his last hours in the castle, how he had been startled from his thinking by the angry screams echoing from the walls, the clash of metal against metal, the wails of men and women injured and the scared cries of those unable to defend themselves. 

He had shoved the Amazon princess to the back of the room, ignoring the angry green blaze in her eyes, and had carefully peeked around the half-opened door, cautious enough to keep himself covered at all times, which was rather fortunate as the shaft of a long, black-feathered arrow quivered beside the spot where his head had been seconds after he had taken his furtive glance. 

"What… what is happening here?" Misao had demanded to know, her voice higher and shriller than her usual lively tone but well controlled nonetheless. Like the King, she had recognized the sounds out there for what they were, in spite of having never been in a battle herself. 

And a battle it was. From what Kamiya was able to establish after rolling out the door and taking out the archer that had tried to shoot him with a quick slash of the sword he carried with him at all times, the townspeople from Dunkeltown- the small village-town sitting underneath the castle hill- had rebelled, risen, decided to take out their anger and dissatisfaction with their rulers this very night. He didn't know what spurned them to these deeds, didn't know what had incensed them to such a level, but the King knew how to fight and defend himself from such threats, which was what he had done, slashing, blocking, lunging, parrying tirelessly, warding off attempts on his life made by pitiful farmers with pitchforks or confident hunters with weapons that were more suited to war. 

He had met up with his captain of the Palace Guard while he was fighting back to back with the Amazon princess who, true to her nature and upbringing, could not resist the lure of battle and had joined him as soon as the immediate threat of that archer had been disabled. 

Aoshi was looking horrible, several wounds on his body visibly bleeding, his chalk-white face marked with the exhaustion of a long day of watching over a castle and a king virtually on his own, as even many of the Palace Guard had joined the hunt for Battousai-the-elusive-demon. His remaining men had, as he was able to shout above the chaos of their struggle, been swamped by a wave of farmers storming up to the castle, battering the doors with ploughs and pitchforks, logs and fists until they had splintered. He admitted to having been reluctant to shoot them at first, as he could not overcome his inborn nobility complex that compelled him to seek fair combat, and he didn't see fair combat in striking down untrained _farmers_ from above. 

When the castle had been stormed, however, he had realized his mistake. These were no wildly attacking men, they had a purpose in mind, and there was a method to their madness. They systematically attacked the Palace Guard, picking his men off one by one, stomping, hacking, battering, until resistance died down. This left only one possible explanation- they were being led, controlled, and by someone who knew the art of war at least as well if not better than Aoshi himself. 

"There was nothing we could do, my King," he shouted, desperately warding off yet another farmer and his pitchfork. This one had come prepared, however, and the tall captain gasped as a long, viciously serrated kitchen knife plunged deep into the flesh of his left thigh. Sinking to one knee he cast a pleading look at the struggling King, taking in the mad glint in the cerulean eyes, the flying, untamed black hair and soiled clothes. Kamiya only had very light injuries. He would be able to do what Aoshi himself couldn't hope to accomplish anymore. Next to the King, completing their triangle of defense, Misao gave a stunning display of her abilities. Without leaving the protective circle they formed with their backs she slashed at their attackers with a short sword, throwing sturdy-looking, miniature daggers at their vulnerable spots in unpredictable intervals, kicking and punching anyone who foolishly came into her range. Her lithe body twisting acrobatically, she helped the King get rid of an especially obstinate hunter who had actually come close to taking the King's left eye but had, thanks to Misao's timely intervention, only succeeded in leaving a minute scratch on the royal skin underneath his intended target. 

"I plead with you to leave the castle. Run, my King, and live to see another day. Dunkelland still needs you. As your captain of the Palace Guard I am responsible for your safety- please, go somewhere safe! And you, Misao, should follow him. I will be able to clear a path and hold them off for a while, so don't hesitate if you see the opportunity!" 

Kamiya cast a dejected look on the pale, struggling figure of his loyal protector, and gave in with a minuscule nod. The man needed his conscious clear, and he would be able to find sanctuary in the next larger town, as well as a pigeon to contact Saito and the army. Looking sideways, he was surprised to find that Misao's face was frozen in horrified anger. She was glaring daggers at the downed man who was fighting to get to his feet while warding off several attacks, her arms crossed over her chest that was heaving with exertion and uncontrolled fury. 

"I won't leave you, Aoshi," she declared firmly, aiming to impale the poor captain and last of the Palace Guard on the spears that shot from the depths of her eyes, "you saved what was most important to me back then, and now I will fulfill my life debt to you. I swore that I would defend you then, and now the time has come to uphold my vow." 

Aoshi only looked tired and withdrawn, an icy mask dropping down over his face. "Please, Princess, I saved your _kitten_ when you were _ten_. This doesn't warrant dying at the hands of this maddened crowd." 

Swatting his argument- as well as an arrow streaking at her- aside the Amazon stood up to her, admittedly not very impressive, full height, hard, glinting green tourmalines leaving Aoshi no choice. "You dare insult the vows of a princess of the Amazons? Foolish man! I have no choice but to fulfill them, as you know very well. Yes, I was a child at that time, but I made them nonetheless, and am bound by them. I am no more pleased with this than you, _kitchen boy_!" 

Kamiya, in retrospect, realized that there had been none of the anticipated venom in her voice as she shouted at Aoshi. Instead, she had almost sounded… giddy? No, that could not be, giddy in the face of death…? 

"So, I will stay here and fight!" And with that, she had launched the first of many attacks, the outcome of which were that the King of Dunkelland was finally able to run from the thick of the battle, disarming or disabling- he didn't want to think of killing- the occasional villager before finally reaching what promised to be salvation in the form of a small, sturdy, thick oakwood door leading to the well-worn path to the medicine woman's hut. 

Cheeks burning with shame the King recalled what had happened next, pulling his stiff and protesting muscles into cooperation as he sat up against the same rotting piece of tree-trunk that had previously aggravated his feet. He had faced off against the leader of the mutinous forces, had actually set eyes on the white-haired freak and called out to him to come and face him like a man, only to be rewarded with a condescending chuckle, the deep voice sending chills down the unfortunate King's spine. 

"I would never think of facing someone like you like a man, little King-who-is-King-no-more." And he had turned around. 

As Kamiya had clenched his fists and prepared to shout all his fury and pent-up frustration at him, he let out another of these low chuckles, turning into an insane grin that spread into his eerie, silver-gleaming eyes that appeared nearly colorless in the fading light of the day. 

"However, Shishio has told me he doesn't want you on a rampage carrying that swords of yours, and he has the ear of the Lord, so I have to at least make sure you are weaponless, little ex-King. Are you willing to hand me your weapon without a fight?" He sounded almost bored at that. 

"Never," Kamiya had spat, watching the stranger's shoulders slump in defeat. 

"They never do what is best for them. Well then, sorry I have to hurt you, little ex-King. You would have made a nice plaything for that wretched Chain Master of yours, or for me, but I have to let you go as per… the Lord's orders. He wants you to 'taste defeat and desperation in all its bitterness'. Something I can understand… oh well, don't try to run to the next town and contact your army, little ex-King. The upheavals cover all of Dunkelland, the Lord has made sure of that. And now… I take your sword." 

Kamiya had not even seen the movement that ripped his weapon out of his hands with blistering force. With a strangled cry of helplessness, pain and unadulterated rage he was thrown backwards against the medicine woman's hut. "You will pay!" he swore. 

"The day hell freezes over and pigs fly," the stranger replied with utmost sincerity, then, suddenly stiffening. "I am sorry for my words, father." 

And Kamiya had just caught a glimpse of an aged and… deranged face before he ran, faster than his feet could carry him, towards the forest. He had run until he had collapsed in exhaustion, run until the strain of heart hammering against his ribs seemed to have broken several of them, judging from the searing pain that was breathing. Run until his feet, clad only in the soft and pliable cloth shoes he wore in the castle had complained that they could not run anymore, covered in dirt, blisters, lacerations and abrasions as they were. Run until he had heard the voices of the hunters of the night behind him. 

Pure, mindless terror had flooded his senses as the wolves howled. He imagined their sharp fangs, their hungry, glistening eyes, their soft paws prowling the night, their red tongues hanging from nightmarish maws… and he had run even farther, until he could only distantly hear their howls, until the pattering of soft paws against the forest floor had been there no more, until the visions of sharp fangs, glistening eyes, red tongues and nightmarish jaws had been swallowed by darkness as he fell, landing where he was sitting right now, trying to recollect and bring into order what he had gone through. 

I… I am no longer the King, he finally thought, and with the thought itself came a finality, a sort of closure to the whole hellish night that made the tears of relief flow down his pale cheeks. 

"I am no longer King," he screamed into the forest, startling the squirrel and a flock of birds that flew up with a series of indignant squawks and chirps, disturbing the peaceful grazing of a herd of deer that started thundering through the underbrush after hearing his ragged, raw voice. Crying loudly, he collapsed to the floor again, resting his head against what was left of the fallen tree's roots. He was no longer the King. 

"What am I going to do now? What is left of me?" he asked noone in particular, casting threatening glares around the once-again silent forest. Nobody answered, and his glares found no mark since the squirrel had scampered off to search for more food. "What am I going to do?" he repeated listlessly. 

Kamiya was at a loss. Whenever his father had not been punishing him the heir to the throne had been pampered, spoiled and served upon left and right. Now, he found himself at a loss, lost in the most dangerous wood in all of Dunkelland, and without breakfast to boot. 

"Help me," he demanded of the mocking trees, the gentle breeze swaying their crooked, straight, multi-fingered limbs in what could only be a negation of his plea. 

"Help me," he whispered again, unsure of what he should do. He had been out hunting in the forest more times than he could count, but had never penetrated this deep or had been this far from the castle. He was completely and utterly lost, without any sense of direction. Sure, he could establish where North was by judging the growth of moss on the trunk of a free-standing tree, but where to find one in such a dense forest, and apart from that: what use would the knowledge of North be? It didn't help him find out where in Dunkelwald he was and in which direction he would have to turn to find the nearest human settlement. 

"Damn, damn all this! What made the villagers crazy? Why did this madman with the white hair have to take my sword? And who was this weird, old guy?" Anger replacing the helplessness, the King sat upright again. He would certainly get to the bottom of this bottomless pit of mysteries. 

Dunkelwald has a circular shape… so if I simply walk right ahead I should at least get away from these wretched trees and these wolves, he reasoned, remembering the howls with a silent shudder. 

However, as soon as he had gotten to his feet he fell back to the ground with a cry of agony. Not only were his muscles stiff from an uncomfortable night after hours of exertion, but also the soles of his poor feet were a ragged mass of bloody flesh, torn and injured in the mad dash when he had had to get out of the wolves' territory. 

"What now?" the King muttered, despair once again clinging to his small frame. No answer came from his surroundings, as usual, so he didn't even bother to look up. 

As Lady Luck would have it the ex-King had, in falling, completed half a turn, now facing the opposite direction from before. And as she was a merciful being despite all the accusations against her, she made the King raise his gaze one last time, made him shake his fist at the harsh forest in defiance. 

Had there been a spectator to watch King Kamiya's plight he would sure have been astonished by what happened next. While the King's jaw remained dropped in an almost comical manner, while the fist remained stuck in the air for no apparent reason, while Kamiya's eyes bulged out in disbelief a slim column of smoke rose from a decrepit, derelict shack no more than fifty feet in front of him. 

Vowing to never do this ever again, the King began to crawl towards the clearly inhabited building, it promised shelter, human company and, deep in the forest as it was, _safety_ from deranged farmers-turned-rebels and mutineers. A smile underneath his scowl, the King crawled with determination, careful to avoid putting pressure onto his hands or feet, using his elbows or knees instead. He would never live down the shame of having arrived at someone's doorstep crawling, but as long as his identity as the King remained known only to him, the as of yet unknown soon-to-be good Samaritan would not think twice about helping him, and surely would not tell anybody, since this deep in Dunkelwald forest the only living thing would be wild beasts or hermits. 

Yes, he would give that hermit a princely reward, no, a _kingly_ reward, but he would never tell him who he was, thus being the only living man privy to the information the Dunkelland's King had crawled. Putting on his most pathetic face he raised his fists to knock on the shack's door- and was surprised to find it already opened, and a pair of legs impairing his vision. 

*~* 

Saito stared at the older man, his face etched with disbelief. What had just happened? His army, standing behind him, weapons drawn and ready, gaped no less than he did. 

Sure, the man in front of them was a sight to behold, towering above all of them, except maybe Sano, packed with muscles and looking rather like a mountain with an angry sneer on its face than a human being, but that was not what had them gaping. What had them gaping was the fact that this very man currently clutched the front of Saito's uniform jacket in one of his giant hands, the other pressing the edge of a very sharp blade against the chief investigator's throat while his own weapon lay useless a few feet away from them on the dewy forest ground. 

"What do you want?" he growled, intimidating. 

Saito faced him coolly in spite of being deeply unsettled by the fact that this stranger had disarmed without so much as a thought when he had knocked onto the door of his small house. He refused to be intimidated by a brute who knew a few moves, the stranger had only caught him unaware, that was all. He had watched him move, and even thought here was no denying his mastery with a blade and in unarmed combat Saito knew that, if he was prepared, he could hold his own against this man. 

"You think you can fight me? You can have your fight after you tell me what makes you want to barge into the home of Hiko Seijurou at dawn!" He smirked arrogantly before roughly setting the chief investigator down, watching with amusement as the black-haired man whose _ki_ reminded him of a wild wolf smoothed his uniform down again. 

"You are under suspicion of harboring a dangerous criminal known as Battousai. We have a warrant to search your property. The safety of the people of Dunkelland is what makes us _barge into the home of Hiko Seijurou at dawn_," Saito said acidly, picking up his trusted blade while keeping his eyes on the strange, offending man whose arrogance and determination could rival his own. 

"Search my home then. There is noone here but I." Smirking at each soldier he allowed them access to the house, watching with detached amusement as the desperately tried tot read lightly around the few valuables he owned. He was making a living by being a potter, as was evidenced by the mass of clay resting underneath a heap of wet leaves behind the house. The soldiers were very disappointed when they turned the leaves over and found nothing but oily, slick clay maturing beneath the protective cover. 

"Nothing here," a spiky-haired, lanky soldier reported, and Seijurou narrowed his eyes. Had the man's voice sounded… relieved? It had, he concluded as tension the soldier probably hadn't even known was there was released from his muscles. Somehow, the boy looked awkward, as though he had been thrust into the army without his consent, and he couldn't have been with them for too long as his movements still lacked the precision and fluidity that came with practice. He also detested Saito, the dark look on his face told enough of that. A most unusual boy… rough around the edges, but he could be something more. 

Fleetingly, the swordsmaster wondered whether his stupid apprentice had gotten to know that soldier- after all, who would be relieved if a severely injured criminal had escaped yet again but a friend of that very same criminal? And the questioning look he had been shooting Seijurou when he had thought himself unguarded… 

"You have promised me a fight, I believe?" Saito's cold, emotionless voice brought Seijurou out of his musings. The chief investigator of Dunkelland Castle had ordered his army to form a circle around the two of them, his sword was drawn and ready. "You have not only insulted myself but, more importantly, the law enforcement of Dunkelland. You will have to pay for that." 

He sounded as though he was announcing that the price for rice balls had been fluctuating only minutely in the past year, with about the same amount of interest- if viewed only superficially. Underneath his cool exterior, however, Seijurou could sense the fire of emotions burning bright, first and foremost among them the need to have justice served. His _haragei_ quickly alerted him to the fact that this man was not as easy as he had been when caught off guard. 

"I will honor my promise," Seijurou answered honestly, a minute smirk tugging the left corner of his mouth downwards. This was the man who hunted his baka deshi, he surmised, well, it was time to see what Kenshin had been up against all these years. 

Later, he would cherish that fight and treasure the memory of it as one of his fondest. While up against the force of nature that was Hiko Seijurou, however, he could do no such thing, Starting from his standard position he launched his trademark three-pointed thrust, the left-handed _gatotsu_ that had been the end of many a criminal. Against the swordsmaster from the woods, however, that attack was of little to no use. His sword point only met thin air, and the shrill whistle of the wind accompanying that Hiko's descent warned him. He threw himself aside in a twisted corkscrew motion, bringing his weapon around to launch into another attack, this one aimed against air attacks specifically. He had developed the move after hearing that these were Battousai's favorite _modus operandi_, and hoped it would serve him well now. 

In spite of his bulk, however, Hiko wasn't any slower than the fabled demon. Somehow, he changed the direction of his leap in midair, flipping in a low arc over the astonished chief investigator's head and striking from behind with blinding speed, faster than the eye could follow. 

The hollow _clang_ of his sword hitting the ground marked the end of the fight, a shocked Saito whirling around to face his indifferent opponent. He hadn't even had the chance to get a single hit in, and the man had disarmed him using the _flat side of his blade_ just after he had come out of a potentially fatal air attack. 

"Who are you?" he asked, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits. He had underestimated that Hiko, but he had not been able to sense anything impressive about the taller man. How he had done that was a question for another day, now there were more urgent matters to attend to. The style, the speed, the air attack… somehow, this man was related to Battousai. He had sent he demon fight, he knew that speed especially. 

"I am Hiko Seijurou, current master of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu," Hiko replied, flipping his long, black braid back over his shoulder, the only thing that had been disturbed when fighting Saito. "And you underestimated me a second time, Saito Hajime, because your _haragei_ didn't tell you anything when you tried to sense me. I live here alone and peacefully, practicing my art and selling my pottery, and I would appreciate if it remained this way. Should you try to cross me I won't hesitate to take out your men. Now go!" 

Saito' yellow eyes burned with silent thoughts and his attempt to connect the man's words to Battousai but he nodded. He had fought, and he had lost, and honor demanded he give in to Hiko's request. 

"I know you wouldn't. But if I find out you have any connections to Battousai I won't hesitate to fight you again. And this time I wouldn't underestimate you, Hiko. I ask that two of my men stay here to watch whether the criminal shows himself." 

"Let them stay," Hiko shrugged, turning and walking back into his house, "they will not live within my walls, however." 

Saito didn't answer, instead assigning the spiky-haired youth and another, older man who stared at the poor soldier with lewd glances to stay behind. Deeply confused and disturbed by his failure to procure the criminal, Saito gave another wordless instruction. He would need the time the trek back to Dunkelland Castle took to think over the events of that morning. He still was suspicious of Hiko. The man was too skilled at handling his weapon of choice, and a master at regulating the energy flow within his own body as well- like the red-headed assassin he was trying to catch. Battousai had been able to hide in plain sight by simply hiding that he was a warrior, appearing to _all _his senses like a harmless fisherman, farmer, or merchant. Thus, Saito was almost certain that Battousai had some connection to the arrogant, overconfident and overly skilled man that had just defeated him so soundly. If there was one thing Saito was good at it was catching criminals. Every single one of them made a mistake sooner or later, and as he was as patient as a wolf on the prowl he would catch them when they did. Battousai was no exception. He was just a little more… skilled. But Saito loved a challenge, and he would prevail. Justice had to be served, evil had to be pulled out with the root instantly. These were his convictions, the rules he lived by, and not even an arrogant swordsmaster would hinder him from applying them. 

*~* 

A pounding headache was the first thing that permeated the comfortable fuzz around Misao's mind. Groaning, she pressed a hand to the swelling on her forehead, only to encounter a soft cloth emitting a spicy, cooling and soothing scent. Touching the cloth she suddenly remembered, and shot upright only to fall back into the soft pillows- pillows?- as a dizzy spell rendered her helpless. 

"Shhh, you must not move yet. You have a concussion, princess." Long, slender finger, cool and dry skin pressing against her sweat-covered shoulders, held her immobile. 

"Aoshi! Where is he? AOSHI!" she cried, trying in vain to break lose and aggravating some unseen, unnoticed wounds. "Ahhh…." She could not hold back her cry of pain. 

"See, I told you to lie still!" The hands were back, and a bitter liquid was touching her lips. 

"Where… what happened? Where am I?" she asked, turning her head and refusing to drink whatever was to be urged down her throat. 

"You are safe. I don't know what happened. Now drink!" The voice was soft, yet steelily demanding obedience. 

"No! Where is Aoshi?" No answer came. Desperately, she ripped the cloth from her eyes with strength she didn't know she had. All she saw were two kind, creamy brown eyes looking tiredly down on her. 

"Where is Aoshi?" 

… to be continued … 

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_*grins* Written to 'Jesus Christ – Superstar', 'Mulan Soundtrack' (gotta love 'Reflection'- my twin was ready to jump out of the window after I launched into the third rendition, but it's basically the story of my life so I'm entitled to singing it as often and as loud as I want to), 'The Final Countdown', 'Pocahontas Soundtrack', 'Take my Breath Away', 'Puff the Magic Dragon', 'Tell me on a Sunday', 'Take that Look off your Face' and Rachmaninov's piano concerto no.3. I know the music doesn't really fit in with the chapter, but in my mind, it somehow did… weird and useless fact, I know. But music is very important for me, so I just had to share… and speaking of sharing, thanks for sharing your opinion on RtK with me! By the way: if you want to get an e-mail whenever I update my stories, just go to: http:// groups. group/ Travel_Stories . Remember to remove the spaces after pasting the URL!!! And finally… Here's the _

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**Reviewer's corner**

**CurlsofSerenity**_: Don't worry, Kenshin cannot kill you at the moment… and where would be the fun if he just hopped off his bed declaring "I'm fine!" for all the world to see… I need to have my character torture! *pouts* _

**Felina**_: Sorry, Enishi isn't the big bad meanie… but you're close. Have been resting a little as of lately, and have gotten my laptop back, so I can write and relax! _

**Missaw**_: Glad you're not mad at me… here's what happens next! _

**Someone**_: Working on the next chapter in return! ^____^_

**^_^: **_I tried to tell Misao she should take it easy and marry the King already, but she seems to have other plans and runs away to fight the bad guys… shows how good I can control the characters, right? Anyways, hope you had fun reading! _

**flyinangel**_: *grins* I'm not allowed as a debater as I'm a native speaker, but I am sort of an honorary debating coach. Sorry, I don't know what a 'krikque' is… never encountered that word before. 'cuique' means 'to each his own' in Latin, and 'crick' is some sort of muscle spasm that isn't really comfortable to have. Is it an English word? Now you've gotten me curious… _

**Quatic7**_: Kaoru's first steps on the way to redemption in here… hope you could catch 'Angel' later! _

**_Dinkydaelf_**_: You have a twin sister who reads fanfiction? I envy you! My twin brother is always teasing me for writing this story. Glad you like it, though. *grins* The big bad meanie wasn't on your list! _

**Dove of Night**_: You've broken your ankle? I'm soo sorry for you! I had the same thing last year… Beware! You'll get started on my streak of bad luck and injuries, because my ankle was what started it for me! Now I'll have to perform the Anti-bad-luck Chi dance-of-good-fortune! *dances around, waving swan feathers while chanting Bad Luck Be Gone over and over* There, now you should be better in no time! _

**Natsuko**_: CONGRATS PATRIOTS!!! An have fun with your school projects… I am done with mine, at least until next term, that's the advantage of doing them early (and incidentally the cause for my twin calling me 'Hermione' as well… *blushes*) I'll e-mail soon, promise- my schedule's been tuned down quite a bit this month now that the weekend from hell is over. In Germany, being Valedictorian isn't such a big thing- it doesn't get you any extra points, only the dubious honor of having to hold a speech. I hate speaking in German and to a large audience at that- I still have an accent when I'm nervous, even after three years of studying German *buries head in dictionary* Thanks for everything! Ryan and Néli both say hi!!! _

**Karen**_: It's really just a question of organization *blushes*… you live in Florida? Cool! My beta and cousin lives in Delray Beach, FL! The world's a village *grins*! Having a twin really is cool most of the time, especially if you have a hard time finding friends because you move around a lot, but there are disadvantages to someone knowing you so well as well… you can hardly keep your feelings private, for example. But Ry and I have managed quite nicely these past years… _

**Jelly the IV**_: Kaoru thinks she is perfectly normal for a male- she knows she is slightly different, but her father has assured her the difference will go away with time *sniggers* and as of yet she doesn't really realize she should feel different! Thanks for your compliments *bows*! _

**Monique**_: I hope this is soon enough… I have put the address of my Yahoo! group at the bottom of my notes, you'll get an update e-mail if you join *baits Monique with chocolate chip cookies as well* _

**Zeh Wulf**_: Umm… I guess I'll send you an e-mail soon ^___^! The rest of your plot-guessing was a teensy bit off… but then, I have some pretty nasty twists planned courtesy of my darling beta who is much more devious than any of us could ever be!__ Sorry if the fight Saito/Hiko was a bit disaapointing- I just don't think his men would risk his wellbeing and Saito wouldn't want them to interfere in his fight with a valiant opponent (his troups in the OVA didn't join in the fight against Kenshin, I think, which is what I base this reaction upon...)_

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_Thanks again, everyone. Now, for the next chapter Néli and I need a little more time as she has to go to the hospital once again… thus, I will either post at 175 reviews or in a week's time. I'm sorry for setting such an impossibly high number, but if I should reach it I promise the next chapter will be up the next day latest. Néli is not doing too well, and as she is the one who turns my words into a story I really have to rely on her as my beta. Thus, thank you for reading, thank you for leaving a review, in the name of my beta as well, and thank you for coming back for the next chapter. _

_Cya!!! _

_Chi_

_PS: Remember... __http:// groups. group/ Travel_Stories, or put me on your author's alert list for getting an e-mail whenever I update. I don't have support services, as my parents don't want me to have a paypal account and I currently live outside the US, but perhaps it works nonetheless? Cya!!!_

_Chi_


	15. Between the cold and empty walls

_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**_This chapter is, once again, dedicated to my cousin and beta reader, Néli. I can't imagine what you're going through at the moment, but we're with you every step of the way!_ **

**Chapter 15**

**Between the cold and empty walls**

Shimajirou had not encountered any troubles on his trek through the forest- one thing to be grateful for. Also, he had found Seijurou's secret hiding place in pristine condition, in spite of its run-down and decrepit exterior the single, spacious room was quite inviting once one had gotten inside. Two cots- he wondered whether Seijurou had ever taken his student here- and a stove were the most essential and therefore only pieces of furniture, but the heavy woven rug on the floor and the large store of firewood along the back wall made up for that. In the middle of the chamber, a well-concealed trapdoor led down to the basement in which the Hiko family heirlooms were kept safe. 

Depositing his unresponsive human burden on one of the cots Shimajirou unloaded the heavy bag he had been carrying and set about settling in. Seijurou was a rather thorough man, who didn't believe in abandoning creature comforts just because he had to be a sneak once in a while, thus the small stream behind the hideout came as no surprise to his brother, the aging ex-soldier. Ex-soldier- now there was a description of himself he had never thought he would use. In Shimajirou's world, loyalty went until death. The King had used him and his sentiments, far too long, far too extensively. He had abused the straight back his man had displayed all through his career, and he hadn't ever regretted it. Shimajirou had deserted him- he had, in some way, deserted himself, but the need to do that, the reason why, was him being human. Him showing compassion. 

A moan coming from the parched throat of the young man he was caring for ruptured the bubble of thoughts he had encased himself in, and he hastily finished unpacking his supplies. Kenshin needed help, he was still burning up with a dangerously high fever, and some of his wounds had reopened during the trek. Shimajirou gently lifted his head up a little and brought the smooth, cool ceramic surface of the water jug he had found standing next to the door to the redhead's lips. Parched though as he was, Kenshin was unable to recognize what was happening to him and turned his face away. The right amount of force finally made him swallow, and his moans quieted down, much to the relief of Shimajirou. He had a lot of experience in caring for the wounded, but it was nonetheless distressing to see someone in pain and to be unable to do anything to help besides being there. It was even more disquieting since he had known his charge from when he was a small boy… memories of him clutching his arm, unshed tears in brilliant blue-violet eyes… 

Shimajirou fell onto the second cot. He was bone-weary and tired, a tiredness not warranted by the short walk through the woods or the search for Battousai, it was more a tiredness of a soul that had taken too many blows to count and wanted to rest, to heal the bruises that marred its once clear and shining surface, just to be regenerated. An uneasy sleep settled over the old soldier, one eye open, one ear listening to the faraway sounds of the night that lay just behind the sturdy log doors of Seijurou's sanctuary, as he had come to call the little shack. 

Early morning came with the song of a solitary blackbird. The sun had not yet risen, but the little songbird already celebrated the impending light with all its heart, jubilant and free. Shimajirou groggily raised himself from his cot, the stiffness of his joints and muscles reminding him of his age. The sounds of a pack of wolves hunting had been the only noteworthy occurrence that night, but being accustomed to the forest Shimajirou had paid it no heed. His feet found their way into his boots- rather sluggishly, to be honest, but they found it. His right hand raked through the shock of greenish-black hair on his head, untangling a few knots and straightening it where it had become tangled. 

Eyeing the empty jug of water beside the door Shimajirou sighed. Time to get ready for the day… he knew he would be bored before long, with only the unresponsive Kenshin for company, but at the moment he would much prefer boredom to the prospect of heading outside into the rather cold morning air and getting water for them to drink. Couldn't the water just… come flowing into the door? Now _that_ would be something! Running water inside a house. 

But it wasn't to be. Even after three minutes of waiting the little stream showed no sign of abandoning its happily gurgling course behind the shack, and with a resigned look on his lined face Hiko Shimajirou got up and grabbed the earthenware jug. 

A small sound alerted him to something being not right outside. A sound like an animal scratching on the door- and quite a big animal at that. A wolf? Or even a bear? The rustling of leaves spoke of a being that could not disguise its movements too well, so more likely a bear than a wolf. Wolves moved silently, like shadows… For the umpteenth time Shimajirou wished he had Seijurou's senses. Being able to sense _ki_ energy, Seijurou would have found out whatever it was that was outside within a second of hearing it move, or even earlier. 

But Shimajirou had no such senses at his dispense, so the only action left to him was to grab his uncle's sword in its honey-colored scabbard from where it had rested against the wall and meet the danger- he somehow automatically assumed the thing outside meant danger- head on. 

Flinging the door open with a bang, Shimajirou was ready to strike against a beast with a single flying leap, the powerful muscles of his legs bunching already as he was aiming to fly high and hammer down on his opponent from below. It was therefore only with a supreme effort that he controlled his body into staying on the ground when he saw the small, distinctly human figure of a young girl, clothed in the shreds of what had once been beautiful garments. Her arm was stretched towards the shack, her hair, long and shiningly black, hid her face from view, and the number of small cuts and bruises on her body spoke of the rough night she must have had. 

Shimajirou didn't even think before he had grabbed her and carried her inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He set her down on what had been his cot until morning, arranging the rugs she was wearing to give her at least a little semblance of modesty and went to get the water, tiredness and aching joints forgotten. He didn't know where she came from, didn't care, all he knew was that she had to have lived through unspeakable horrors that night. He surmised that she had been the prey of the wolves he had heard hunting, and that she had been in a battle, for some of the cuts that adorned her arms, legs and torso were too clean, too sharp to have been made by whipping tree branches and thorn thickets. 

But a girl of her age normally wasn't engaged in fights or battles, and a girl of her age didn't usually have the muscles that only years of training how to fight brought with them. She was not what she seemed to be at first glance, and even though her stature was deceptively fragile Shimajirou would bet his life on the fact that she held the same kind of inner strength Kenshin called his own. She was… unique. He would certainly enjoy getting to know her… 

Taking care of the wounded was almost second instinct to the ex-soldier by now, and with quick and sure movements of his hands the girl's wounds were dressed and she was sleeping clean and peacefully next to a still feverish Kenshin. Now there was someone who made Shimajirou worry- the young man called out in his unconscious state, and the fine lines of his face were etched deeply with the agony he was in. He was not getting any better from what Shimajirou could see, but at least he was clinging to his life with a stubbornness that befitted all the tales told about him. He would not die. Not now, not yet, not when so many things still needed to be done. Shimajirou sighed and settled down in front of the fire. He would wait until his charges regained consciousness, and perhaps he could catch another wink of sleep until then… 

*~* 

"Aoshi?" The brown eyes blinked with confusion, until understanding suddenly lit the classically elegant face they were set in like a candle in the darkest night. "I understand- Aoshi is the young man who brought you out of the castle? Shinomori's given name is Aoshi… well, I think he is alright, though I haven't checked up on him in the last three hours. He only suffered minor lacerations and flesh wounds, but he was exhausted and on the verge of collapse by the time I found you two. 

"I have taken care of him, and he is resting and recovering. You were severely exhausted as well, and have only now woken. You were unconscious throughout the night, and for some time Shinomori and I feared you had inhaled too much smoke as your breathing became extremely shallow. I trust you are feeling better now?" 

Misao raised one eyebrow. Her recollection of the past day wasn't the best yet, but this woman triggered some memory, about laughing and eating and talking about Aoshi…. 

"Are you the medicine woman?" Whether it was the voice or the eyes that made her make the association Misao didn't know, but the feeling of familiarity with this woman was affirmed when she nodded, a small smile gracing the corners of her lips. 

"Indeed I am, but since I just lost my home and title it might be more convenient for you to call me Megumi. That is my given name." 

"But you're young!" Misao exclaimed, looking her savior up and down. 

"I know, which is why I preferred that nobody see my face when I worked for the King. I had to deal with enough accusations of practicing witchcraft as it was, without having the added bonus of eternal youth…" she trailed off, reminding herself not to be too sarcastic. 

"Anyways, if you are feeling better, princess, I can show you your Aoshi- you were frantic when you woke up. It might do you good to see him sleep, and your wounds aren't deep." 

"Really? I can see Aoshi?" Misao was almost bouncing from her bed with excitement, and for the first time since awakening took in her surroundings. Quaint, roughly hewn wooden walls, hastily erected partitions- this was some sort of emergency shelter for those injured in the attack on Dunkelland Castle. 

"What is going on? What happened at the castle? I remember throwing my last _kunai_ into some of these villagers, but they wouldn't be stopped and set fire to the room I had hidden in. My eyes burned and I couldn't breathe, and then I dreamed that Aoshi came and carried me out of there…" her face shone with happiness at that thought. It was strange to watch the arrogant, confident Amazon princess transform into the young, infatuated girl she was within the blink of an eye. Megumi smiled, the wisdom of her years of leading a hard life giving her the advantage and detachment she needed to deal with her overly excited patient. 

"He did, at least the captain of the Palace Guard stumbled in here with you in his arms. He told me how he knew about this place, that the chief investigator had set this up in case there ever was an emergency, and then he collapsed, asking me to take care of you before falling unconscious. He awoke soon after I had treated his wounds and explained to me how the castle had been taken, since I had run as soon as I saw the villagers approaching as were my instructions from Saito. I was to be here before everyone else… I didn't know the attack was that bad." 

"Is Aoshi…?" Misao blushed, realizing just how much she disregarded the rules of her upbringing in worrying about a man like she did. 

"Sleeping? I already told you he is," Megumi replied knowingly, a twinkle in her cinnamon eyes. 

"Then take me to him _now_," the young woman insisted, her upbringing and natural leadership abilities giving no room to Megumi for contesting the demand in her voice. 

"I will," the medicine woman acknowledged, silently nodding her appraisal of Misao's strength. She was strange, she was brought up so different from herself, but inside, she resembled herself more than the young princess would ever know. It was the same kind of power that kept the two of them going, the same kind of strength of character that would never relent. 

"Stand up slowly- you have a light concussion," she said, waiting for Misao to sway to her feet and slowly move around her bed. "Now follow me." 

*~* 

Kenshin felt weak. His head felt frail, his limbs felt weak. He felt as if he were paralysed from the neck down. He was lying in a bed. He didn't know where, or how he had gotten there. The last time he remembered, he had been in Hiko's house, and then he had met that strange young boy with the mesmerizing violet eyes…

Groaning, he opened his own shining amber orbs to the world, squinting against the dim light that was still too bright for him to properly see. Everything was a blur, and he was grateful for the numb feeling to most of his body. Apart from his head, which certainly had little men running around inside while poking at his poor brain with white-hot pokers he wasn't able to feel any pain.

He was facing the middle of the room, barely able to see the other wall across the second bed that was occupied by a lump taking up most of his vision.

"Where am I?" he meant to ask, but only mustered a weak moan as his lips refused to part around the words and his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Drink," a friendly, if a little gruff, voice ordered him, pressing the cool rim of a ceramic cup against his parched and cracked lips. He shuddered feeling the cold, and became aware of the needles that were being stuck into every single inch of his skin. He moaned softly again, his defences against the pain weakened by the fever and the helpless, weak feeling.

"You have to drink the water, Kenshin." Again, the cold assaulted him and this time he was too weak to resist, feeling icy water trickle into his mouth and down his throat, bringing the realization that this actually felt good after the initial discomfort had passed.

"Who?" he croaked, grateful that his vocal cords allowed him this one word. His head was spinning; he felt as though he was upside down and could hardly concentrate on hearing the answer. He didn't even know whether he had asked the man who took care of him who he was or the human-sized lump at his side. Something about that lump was familiar… he felt as though he had seen that before. 

"I am Hiko Shimajirou, your master's brother. Seijurou sent you and me to safety. And if you meant our guest, she's a girl I found outside our doorstep this morning. She was hunted by wolves and has been in a battle and…" Shimajirou stopped talking when he saw Kenshin narrow his eyes. He was staring at the girl next to him. His fever-flushed cheeks paled with the strain he was putting on himself, and Shimajirou started to get worried. 

As the redhead focused through the haze of his cooking brain and body, he realized there was something familiar about that lump over there, especially as it emitted a low groan and turned to face him, opening incredible, night-sky blue eyes. There was only one person in the whole Kingdom with that particular eye color…

"Kamiya!" he exclaimed, paying for overtaxing his body when a coughing fit threw him back into unconsciousness by reminding him of his wounds.

"What did he mean, Kamiya?" Shimajirou wondered, carefully settling Kenshin's head down on the bed. He had held him through his fit, trying to calm him through his presence but the young pupil of his brother's was simply too weak to endure the strain.

"My name is Kamiya. I am your King and liege, and I demand an explanation, a proper meal and clothes, my subject," the girl intoned, sitting up on the bed and holding herself regally upright.

Suddenly, she stared down at herself in horror and started to shriek, the high-pitched sound almost loud enough to rupture Shimajirou's eardrums. He didn't have any idea what might have started this outbreak of insanity, but he threw her a huge cloak Seijurou had left behind, assuming she had seen some horrors in that battle he didn't want to know about and had just been reminded of them in her nearly naked state. His instincts had been right- the shrieking stopped.

"Now where is my meal? Kamiya demands you serve your King, peasant! And who is _this_?" Her gaze fell onto Kenshin's unconscious form.

Shimajirou could honestly say he hadn't ever been that baffled before. He didn't know what to answer, or which question to answer first. After all, it was not every day that an insane girl stumbled into your life. A girl who thought she was the King. Helplessly, he shrugged, shrinking under the irate and expectant blue glare. Where was Seijurou when you needed him?

*~*

The young boy had never, in all his life, been as afraid as when he had lain in the rubble that had once been the furniture of a chamber in the castle. His back was throbbing where he had been hit with a scythe, and he felt his shirt sticking to the wound. Yet he didn't dare move a muscle, he had seen what the villagers and especially these specially trained men the three leaders of the movement had done to those that were still alive. Trying not to breathe, trying to seem dead, the boy lay there helplessly, watching as the tall, pony-tailed leader came to confront the mysterious, cloaked and hooded one that was shrouded in mystery, standing right in front of him. 

His boots were dangerously close to stepping on one of the boy's arms, and he fervently prayed that would not happen. Bruised and beaten as he felt, he knew he would not be able to hide his being alive if he was stepped on. 

Thankfully, some higher force seemed to hear his prayer since the man took a step forward, towards the cloaked and hooded leader. The boy was very confused as to who this might be. He had been working in the kitchen when the attack had begun, and because he prided himself on being brave and because he had wanted to impress that one girl that worked alongside him he had joined the fight, slashing at anything that looked like an enemy with the knife he had pulled out of the butcher's block. He had only stopped when he had been struck with the scythe and had fallen off the wall, blacking out and awakening only to the voices of three men shouting orders. That had been the first time he had seen the leaders of the attack- he had been sure they were the leaders because their orders were obeyed unquestioningly. 

One of them he knew- it was the one who was standing in front of the mystery man right now. He had lived in the castle before the attack, and he had been quite high in rank. He had had to bow all the way down for this man. 

"Shishio, what is it?" Shishio- that was ponytail's name, the boy clearly remembered, clenching his teeth to keep from hissing as the wind tugged at his shirt. 

"I have come to fulfill my destiny," Shishio snarled, a sword in his hand, a weapon still dripping with the blood of its victims. 

"Fulfill your destiny? But Dunkelland is already taken, my dear Minister of the Interior and closest advisor to the future King. The castle is in shambles, the King has been seen fleeing by my own son… he isn't dead yet, I want him to suffer like I have… and you have reached your goal as well haven't you?" Mystery man cackled underneath his hood. 

"No. I will have reached it once you and your son are _dead_!" 

The boy involuntarily gasped as the blood-dripping blade of Shishio's sword arched towards mystery man's neck. He gasped again when the ringing of steel on steel hindered Shishio from reaching his target. 

"Don't you dare hurt my father!" The third leader had arrived, flinging his blade to intercept Shishio's, snarling like a wild beast as he leaped at the traitorous, irate advisor to the dead minister of the interior, Hiruma Gohei. His eerie, white hair was wildly dancing around his face, his exposed teeth gleaming in the sunlight. His blade locked with that of Shishio, he reached out with his free left hand and wrapped it around the traitor's neck so fast that the boy never saw him move. 

"Enishi, stop. I am sure our _friend_ didn't mean this. The excitement of winning the battle has gotten to him. Let him go." The third leader finally threw his hood back, revealing a shock of white hair over the ravaged, lined face of an old man who stared at his son out of a pair of deep-set, beady black eyes that held an insane glint to their immeasurable depths. 

"Lord Yukishiro… you are right, of course, and I beg your forgiveness." Shishio fell to his knees, groveling in the dirt at the third leader's feet. 

"You should really call me Oibore if we are to work together as closely as we decided to… now, now, Enishi, please remove your sword from Shishio's neck- we need that head of his still." The third leader- Yukishiro Oibore- was definitely insane, the boy concluded after watching the exaggerated movements of his hands that accompanied his overly pronounced words. 

"As you wish, father," Enishi conceded, snarling at Shishio for good measure before sheathing his weapon. Fascinated, the young boy watched it slide into the intricately designed scabbard Enishi had slung across his back. He had never before seen such a weapon, a broader sword than Dunkelland's _katana_, looking heavier yet having the same dexterity, as ad been proven when Enishi had whipped his weapon around to intercept Shishio's strike. 

"Well, my son, my friend, it's time to claim our prize. Dunkelland is ours to rule, finally, as it should have been from the beginning. Come. Follow me!" 

The boy watched with wide eyes as the three set off, trying to discern whether or not his ears had played a trick on his mind as he thought he had heard that weird Oibore man sing his last words over and over again while striding up to the castle. 

Shaking off his stupor he decided that was, in fact, irrelevant. The castle was taken, and the army was gone. Someone had to tell Saito. And since he didn't see any other survivors nearby, he would be the hero who would fulfill this task. 

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his back, the young boy stumbled to his feet and into the direction of Dunkelwald, right where he had seen the army go off to. 

*~* 

Hiko Seijurou was enjoying what turned out to be a rather pleasant and amusing day in spite of the two soldiers stationed outside his house. From time to time, the serene calmness of his wood home was disturbed by an angry shout from the younger, spiky-haired watchman, but apart from that… well, to be honest, he was always waiting for a shout of the younger, spiky-haired watchman. It wasn't every day, after all, that he got the live performance of two court jesters right in front of him. 

Sipping on his precious saké, which was just the right temperature inside the delicate cup, he took to watching the two men's antics once more, as he had the entire morning. Spiky-hairs- also known as Sagara Sanosuke or Sa-ha-no-chan!- was leaning as far away from his companion as possible without leaving his post. 

"I. Don't. Love. You." He hissed quietly, reddening in embarrassment, sounding to all the world and Seijurou especially like a broken record repeating the same line over and over. 

"But Sa-ha-no-chan…" the other man- Yano-the-moron- whined. 

"Leave. Me. Alone." Sano's voice got that dangerous rumble. Seijurou grinned devilishly from where he watched them. The last time Yano had persisted after getting Sano's warning Seijurou had gotten to see a most amusing chase all over the clearing around his house, ending with Yano being thrown into the little stream to the back. 

"But Sa-ha-no-chan, I thought you were over your love for Kamiya!" Yano shimmied closer to his taller companion. 

Sano was fed up. Saito must have been blind to assign this partner, and apart from that worrying about Kenshin made him even more physically sick than Yano did. Enough was enough. This charade had to end here and now. 

"You know, I'm _not gay_!" he roared, and before Yano could even blink twice he found himself out cold on the ground after having been on he receiving end of Sano's mighty left hook. "Idiot," Sano spat, sucking on the torn skin of his knuckles. 

Yano didn't answer- there was no reaction whatsoever from him but a rapid coloring of his jaw where Sano's fist had found its mark. Restraining himself, Sano refrained from spitting on the limp body of his downed opponent and made his way over to where Seijurou sat. One of the swordmaster's eyebrows was raised to his hairline in amusement, yet his sharp eyes watched the approaching young man warily. 

"Diplomacy is not among your virtues," Hiko Seijurou stated dryly. 

"He was an idiot," Sano retorted, eyes flashing and fists clenched tightly at his side. 

"I suggest you don't try a repeat performance with me," Seijurou said, taking in Sanosuke's battle-ready stance, "the outcome would be different." 

"I don't want to hit you- I want to know where Akai- Battousai- is!" he ground out, annoyed by Hiko Seijurou's irritatingly superior and calm demeanor. 

"You have already searched this house." Seijurou sipped on his saké. 

"But you _know where he is and he's my friend_!" Sano shouted hoarsely, stressed out from a long night, the worry, and Yano's company. 

"He's your friend? Does he even know your name?" Seijurou was slightly intrigued by this man. Not only did he possess an above-average amount of strength, his _ki_ also shone with fierce loyalty and genuine worry- unfortunately, even the _haragei_ senses of Hiko Seijurou were unable to determine the subject of these feelings. 

"He does. And he called me his friend as well. I helped him escape- you didn't honestly think he could break out of iron chains and run from Dunkelland Castle on his own as badly injured as he was- is?" Sano challenged. 

"They do say he is a demon." Hiko watched his young visitor- when had he come to think of that soldier as a visitor?- closely. 

"That's rubbish and you know it is. He's as human as I am- if someone's a demon it's you, 'cause I've never seen anyone deal with Saito the way and speed you did. But Akai- Battousai- moves similar to you, so you have to know him." 

"I don't have to know anything- I simply know a lot of things. You seem very observant." Seijurou started to enjoy the conversation. 

"This is not about me! This is about my friend!" Sano shouted, his fists slowly inching into attack position at the height of his chest. 

"You are even ready to strike at me after what you have witnessed for the sake of your friend? You can't have known him that long!" 

"I don't. But he's still my friend and has my loyalty, and I need to know what happened to him! He was… he was one step away from death's door when Megumi- the medicine woman- and I came down into the dungeons, and the Chain Master…" Sano shuddered at the memory of that vile creature, "the Chain Master said he wasn't finished with him yet, that he had yet to scream. And he… " he couldn't go on. 

Hiko Seijurou carefully took another sip of saké. From what he had perceived of this man he was honest to a fault, protective, loyal, strong and hot-tempered. He would not lie. 

"What are you going to do with this one?" he jerked his head into Yano's direction. 

"Leave him in the wood!" Sano spat, disgust evident in his face, stance and voice. 

"Tie him up and put him in my wood storage shed." Seijurou ordered, reaching behind his back and throwing Sano a length of rope, "then follow me. I will take you to my baka deshi." 

"To your… are you Akai's _master_?" Sano's eyes widened. No wonder that man could defeat Saito! 

"You really must've known him for a very short time. His name is Kenshin." Seijurou finished his cup of saké and carefully placed the small, fragile porcelain bowl on the low table in the middle of his front room. 

"Kenshin? Well, I guess he couldn't tell me…" 

"Follow me." Seijurou ordered, his mantle billowing dramatically around his impressive figure as he stalked out of the house and into the woods. 

"Follow?" Sano did so. 

Hiko Seijurou's house in the woods was deserted once more- well, apart from the muffled groans coming from the wood storage shed. Between the cold and empty walls, silence reigned. 

… to be continued … 

_I am posting this chapter betaed only by Ryan and myself. Néli is in hospital for the next round of treatment…I hope she lives through it and that it helps! Sorry for any weird grammar and horrible spelling mistakes- neither Ry nor I have any definite knowledge of grammar and we don't know a single style of English either, so please don't be too hard on us! Néli is usually the patient one who forms my motley English into something recognizable as a language… _

_*grins* Now comes my favorite part! Yuppieh! _

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**Reviewer's corner**

**Ben**_: Thanks! Hope you liked this chapter too even though it was a transit one!_

**ChiisaiLammy**_: Don't worry, Enishi and Kaoru **will** fight... I just thought it was rather probable that an exhausted and already weary Kaoru would lose quickly to Enishi... anyways, they will fight again, later! Thanks for everything!_

**Felina**_: Hope you're feeling better soon! I hate being sick, so I send you my most powerful Get-Well-Writing in these words!_

**allin656**_: Ummm... I haven't divided all of my storyline into chapters yet, but I guess there will be around thirty chapters. I hope so, at least, but when my twin and Néli start interfering there might be more^.^_

**Dove of Night**_: Ummm... let's see, I broke my ankle, overstrained both my wrists in piano practice, got a slash in my arm, had a bad case of the flu.... that's what I remember off the top of my head. If you're talking all my life, however, I have broken at least one bone in every part of my body (yup, I'm a bit accident-prone and it doesn't help that I take stupid dares such as jumping down from a sixteen-foot-high tree branch [I was only ten, then, though]). *grins* Hope you are better soon!!!_

**missaw**_: keep your hyperness, it gives me energy! *plays the energy leech* Anyways, here's the update!_

**Natsuko**_: I think we can agree on one thing: school work is EVIL! Néli says thanks for all your encouragment, and she tries to keep her spirits high. It's especially hard for her because of her eidetic abilities and because she has metastases already, but she's still trying to stay strong and your support means a lot to her. Ry is his usual cynic self and says you should try pulling your assignments off the internet- it works for him ^_^ No really bad cliffhanger this time, or is it? *grins* Thanks sooo much!!!_

**dinkydaelf**_: Aoshi is not dead! I would never kill him *gasps in horror* ! Unfortunately, Ryan is just about as stubborn as I am, meaning he would demand food every five minutes and refuse reading- it would rob him of his favorite ammunition for teasing his sister!_

**EEevee**_: Hope nobody threw you out the window yet! It was a close shave with Ry for me (he already had the gag in hand), but he didn't go through with it (I shut up). *grins* Misao is not your average Amazon- but I thought that, in a medieval setting, a free spirit such as her would break under the rules and restraints placed ont he average woman and have thus made her extraordinary- but I can understand that it's weird for you (it's weird for me, too!). yup, Kamiya certainly needs to work on her people skills... Hiko vs. Saito is one of my fav musings, too!_

**Lady Katia**_: Ummm... thanks for liking my story so much that you reviewed for EVERY chapter! I did my best to get this out- had a fencing tournament this weekend, though, and could only check my mail on Monday, and then Néli already was in hospital. thus, this is a little late- hope you forgive me and will still read RtK!_

**Kairi7**_: Thank you! I usually update once a week, but with the past two chapters I was a little faster... Hope you enjoyed this one!_

**the sacred night**_: You were absolutely right in your assumptions *grins*! I think it's time to get that little romance thing underway... and I think I will have fun with Kamiya and Kenshin both sick and in the same room and torturing poor Shimajirou!_

**monique**_: Woman... well, she will get to know her true gender soon, but the 'changing' will not happen overnight. SHE will take her time to emerge from HIM.... and I plan on having fun meanwhile!_

**Jessikitty**_: Umm, yes, my grammar... sorry? *feeble excuse about not having been able to learn just ONE type of English inserted here* That period was supposed to be an ellipse (...), but didn't come out that way *thinks it has something to do with her HTML*. I use FrontPage as an editor (yes, I'm lazy!), but still it sometimes doesn't do what I want it to. Hope you're not too stressed- I am experiencing a bit of a lull at the moment, to be honest. Not that that's bad, I have a test on Thursday after all, but... well, once you're used to it you even MISS stress! _

**The-Lone-Lemon**_: Meeting underway, update's here! Cya!!!_

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_Next chapter: _**Force and impulse**_. One of my favorites so far… and yes, it's THE chapter. Kaoru talks to Battousai! Sano, Seijurou and Yahiko! Saito finds Aoshi, Misao and Megumi and suspects something about Misao's parentage! Oibore, Enishi and Shishio establish their reign! _

_I won't set any definite date on when the next chapter will be out- I have a huge biology exam on Thursday and Néli isn't feeling too well, either. So, look for it next week! Until then!_

_Cya!!!_

_Chi_


	16. Force and impulse

_Ciao!!! _

_Well, what do you say- it's been just a week since I posted the last chapter, in spite of having been at a fencing camp from Friday 'till Tuesday… I guess I'm too addicted to this story to stay away from it too long! Well, another cause for my writing frenzy is that RtK has been nominated in the Rurouni Kenshin elimination contest. I mean- WHOA! I would have never had the audacity to enter in this myself, so when I got the e-mail stating my fic had been entered into that contest I just… flipped, so to speak. Ry thought I had gone catatonic because I just sat there staring at the computer screen absolutely unable to comment. __Ummm… __I don't know anything about that contest since I'm strictly writing for fun, but I would still appreciate if you would go and vote for me… the address is posted here and all the way down underneath the fic. But before I ask you to go to biki's homepage, here is the new chapter. Enjoy!!! _

**_Vote for RtK at_**_: _www. geocities.com /bikifriend _(without spaces)_

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_"…." Denotes talking _

_….. denotes thinking _

_*~* means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place_

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes. 

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**For Néli, whose red basecap will be mine once she is all better! **

**Chapter 16 **

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**Force and impulse**

When Saito Hajime had been handed a spectacular defeat at the hands of one of the most brilliant- no, _the_ most brilliant- fighters he had ever seen he had been rather infuriated despite his calm exterior. He took no small measure of pride in his abilities as a fighter, and in his senses, and yet that mysterious man had thwarted them both without any effort. He was not above admitting to his mistakes- he had, perhaps, not tried to look deep enough, he had taken what he saw at face value, and he had allowed that man, Hiko, to surprise him, not once but twice. 

Saito hated surprises of the Hiko kind. He was not above admitting to that, either. Yet, when he thought it all through calmly and from the distance- physical and temporal- he was not surprised that he had been had. 

Hiko Seijurou was a man of strange abilities, abilities he had so far associated with only one enemy: Battousai. He had never had the honor of fighting the red demon while he was at full strength- he was not stupid enough to believe that _Akai the donzel_ had amounted to all that Battousai could muster, and when he was captured the wounds he had slowed him down. 

No, Saito had yet to fight against this elusive menace, but the suspicion he had harbored directly after his fight against Hiko, the suspicion that it would be somewhat similar to fight Battousai to what it had been to fight Hiko, had hardened into almost certain conviction. 

For one there was the maneuverability, the seemingly effortless dance on the air that Hiko called a jump. Battousai was rumored to prowl the rooftops, mounting and dismounting with one leap respectively. Then there was the speed, the one factor Saito knew was not myth or legend but fact. Even injured Battousai had been far quicker than anyone he had ever seen fight- except for Shinomori Aoshi perhaps, but even the captain of the Palace Guard relied more on harmonious, flowing moves than the pure velocity of Battousai's strikes. 

Third, there was the power, something Saito had witnessed firsthand as well. For one so small Battousai certainly was strong, and there was no denying that this huge mountain of muscle, Hiko Seijurou, was stronger even than his size heralded as well. 

Consequently, Saito only had one conclusion: Hiko Seijurou was Battousai's aide, and as he was older he was most likely the assassin's trainer, retainer, or master. The chief investigator shifted his concentrated gaze from the piece of blank paper that should contain at least part of his report to Kamiya by now. How to word this? He had no proof for any of his suspicions, not that that would be a problem once Kamiya issued a decree that enabled him to take Hiko Seijurou in for questioning. The baby fine hairs at the back of his neck tightened their grip on his skin in protest responding to his thoughts. He was a hunter of criminals, but not one who would resort to unfair and criminal methods to reach his goal. Saito firmly believed that evil had to be pulled out with the root, but if the root of evil lay with himself he could not, in good conscience, do his work. 

He would not word his suspicions. He would simply report his findings, which were none, and that he had failed to recapture Battousai. He would rather suffer Kamiya's wrath than betray his principles. He was not like most of the government, he didn't care for personal gains or advancement. He did not want a higher paid position. He did not crave more influence. He simply wanted to protect the citizens of Dunkelland and fulfill his own vows. 

His feather quill scratched loudly on the uneven surface of the paper as he signed his report. Kamiya would not be pleased, but the King knew better than to antagonize his chief investigator with questions Saito would refuse to answer. He would fume, he would shout, he would demand a fight, and he would eventually calm down enough to see Saito's reasoning behind his decision. Kamiya was not a strong leader, despite all his ambitions in that directions. He was easily influenced and acquiesced perhaps too quickly. In this case, Saito would simply be grateful for that. 

*~* 

"Who is that?" His own question resounded in the King's ears as he tucked loose strands of hair behind his ears, buried safely in the folds of the huge cloak the man who had taken him in had given him. Next to him, on a small, flat cot, lay the man who had just called him by his name. Curiously, Kamiya peered more closely at the unresponsive figure. Even though shadows were prevalent in the house, they could not drown out the sheer luster of the silky red strands that floated around a pinched, tired and pained face that showed the strain its owner was under even in the throes of sleep- or unconsciousness. 

"Well, Miss, that is… the son of my brother." Shimajirou didn't know what else to say. First, that girl thought she was the King, then Kenshin even called her by the King's name, then she inquired about Kenshin… 

"I am your King. I demand you desist from calling me 'Miss'," the girl said sharply, the command tone back into her voice. Shimajirou's flabbergasted look only intensified. Sure, her features bore _some_ similarities to the King's, mainly the high cheekbones and deep, midnight blue eyes that were currently flaring with anger, but then there was the soft, wavy hair that curled around her shoulder blades alluringly, and the high voice that, even when it sounded as sharp as it just had, was unmistakably female. 

"Miss, listen, I don't know what happened to you out there at the battle, and I won't deny that you could pass for the King's twin sister, but there is just no way that our King would have these… attributes of yours." 

She waved him away with a careless flick of the wrist. "You say this is your brother's son?" she inquired, her head held high and a debonair flair to her voice. Shimajirou felt cornered. 

"I said that, yes," he answered, carefully avoiding the definite answer. She drew the cloak around her small frame like a regal ceremonial mantle. Carefully testing her balance she put her full weight on her slightly shaking, prettily formed legs and strode- not without a wince, her soles were still raw and blistered- across the few feet separating her resting place from Kenshin's. The young man shivered in his sleep, more likely than not feeling the approach of a foreign _ki_ even in his state. Shimajirou wanted to intervene, Kenshin needed rest more than anything else on his road to recovery, but was too late- tired lavender eyes tinted with a hint of gold had snapped open already, a gasp tearing itself from his throat as he returned to full consciousness. 

Shimajirou grimaced- he had been wounded more than once and knew how unpleasant it was to come to in a body that was more a wreck than a functioning arrangement of bones, muscles and sinew. And to imagine coming to to the close scrutiny of a decidedly beautiful if not especially amiable female… he could feel with Kenshin. 

"Kamiya," he rasped, his dry throat refusing to let his voice through unscathed. The girl studied his slim features intently, taking in the flush of fever coloring his pale cheeks a rosy pink and the wide, hardly focused eyes. Lavender… so reminiscent of a certain traitorous donzel… 

He turned his face, trying to get a clearer picture of the young girl in front of him. His right eye was, after all, still swollen half shut. However, turning his head exposed his left cheek to the girl's eyes, and the reaction he got wiped any shadow of doubt he had had about her identity from his mind. 

"Battousai! You! Arrest that murderer immediately! I, Kamiya, command you to!" Her flailing hands struck resoundingly against his cheek, but Kenshin held his gaze trained onto her unwaveringly. 

"Did I… ever tell you our King is a girl?" he asked Shimajirou without letting Kamiya out of his sight. The frantic girl was by now yelling for the army, Saito and Shinomori to come to her aid immediately and restrain the dangerous criminal- who, incidentally, could hardly lift a finger to his defense. 

"Seijurou did. I couldn't believe it… so this _really_ is King Kamiya of Dunkelland? I thought that… she was a battle victim of some kind," Shimajirou replied, keeping an eye on the girl, but also on the eerily still form of Kenshin. 

"_Murderer_!" Kamiya shrieked and finally attacked Kenshin herself and physically. 

"Now, Miss King, Kenshin is gravely injured," Shimajirou grabbed her from behind and fight as she might there was just no way she could escape a man roughly twice her size and weight. 

"He is a murderer, he killed my father- hell, he killed more people than I can count!" she was livid with rage. There he was, the one she had wanted to get her hands on, and she was powerless to make him suffer at least a little. 

"He has suffered more than a little, Miss King," Shimajirou said gently, and Kamiya realized he had blurted his thoughts out loud in his fury. 

"He has suffered nothing, _nothing_, do you hear me? He has not had his loved ones killed like the families of those he murdered! He is nothing but a crazed animal that should be put down on sight! _Murderer_" Her spittle flew with unerring accuracy and hit the young assassin directly under his left eye that had, over the past minutes of being frantically accused, lost all of its gentleness and had turned into a blazing, fiery promise of death. 

Battousai's narrow face was bathed in shadows, the sharp lines of exhaustion and pain burrowing deeply into the soft skin around his eyes and mouth. His amber eyes flashed frightfully. Kamiya, still in Shimajirou's iron grip, recoiled from them, feeling as though he had burned her very soul with his glare. 

"You call me a murderer, a killer? Look at you! It's you who kills indiscriminately, without a twinge of your conscience! It's you who kills just out of spite, because you can kill! I… I have a motive, a motive most people would understand- hatred. Deep, burning hatred and the desire for revenge. Your father killed my grandmother just because she had helped you live. She… I don't remember her, but people told me that she was kind and gentle. She didn't ever injure anybody, hurt anybody, yet your father took her life without a moment's thought. He was a killer, _King_, and so are you. I may have killed- but I can't sleep at night because of their voices and their bloody arms reaching out to grab me and pull me down to them. You have killed and suffer nothing from it." 

Kamiya bristled. He called him- her- _him_ a killer? Battousai had the _gall _to call somebody else a killer? Her face reddening with her rising anger she stared him down, faced those eyes and forced their heated glare back at the person emitting it. 

"_I_ have killed? I have never even touched a person with a real sword outside the battle at the castle!" she spat. 

"And yet you have condemned hundreds of people to death by starvation, have convicted dozens of men to death or life in prison without a trial at which they could defend themselves. _By order of the King_, Kamiya, do you recall these words?" Shimajirou had entered into the argument without being asked. His brother's baka deshi could have said these words himself, but he somehow doubted they would have had the same effect. 

"Battle… at the castle?" Kenshin was fading again, and fading fast, but his mind was, at the moment, clear enough to catch what Shimajirou had missed. 

"The battle in which that cretin Shishio, that white-haired freak and a third leader whom I didn't see rallied the masses," Kamiya recounted acerbically, "needless to say that there is no King when his people decide they don't want him anymore." 

"White-haired… freak?" Kenshin struggled to hold on. His body demanded he give it the rest it needed to recover, but the young fighter wasn't ready yet. He had the feeling that he was missing an important piece of the puzzle- and he enjoyed watching the King all flustered. "Did he… give you his name?" His voice had decreased to a hoarse whisper. 

"His name?" Kamiya had a frightening vision of herself, all exhausted and ready to give up, coming face to face with that leader in front of the medicine woman's hut. How he had mocked her. How his level if swordsmanship was too much for the King who had fought for what seemed like hours already. How he had taken his sword without any effort at all. 

"He never introduced himself to me. All he could do was laugh mockingly and glare with that silver eyes of his…" Somehow, the words spilled from the King's mouth before he could hold them back and lock them in his throat. 

"Silver eyes? No, not true…" Kenshin moaned, his eyes clouding over. 

"What is it with the silver eyes, Kenshin?" Shimajirou asked, rather worried about the state the young man had brought himself into again. His fever seemed to be rising, and if he didn't rest soon he would not heal. 

"Silver… eyes… death," the redhead murmured, eyelids dropping. 

"Battousai… is afraid?" Kamiya gasped at the realization. The way he had said 'death'- it was clear that he had thought of something that frightened him more than the mere prospect of dying. Silver was death? What would he mean? Kamiya looked puzzled, even forgetting his feud against the 'demon' for a moment. 

"Do you think I can let you go now?" Shimajirou relaxed his grip around her, and only now the King became aware of the fact that the old soldier had gripped him tight around the middle all this time to prevent him from attacking Kenshin. 

Seconds later, Shimajirou looked considerably more disgruntled and the King considerably redder. "Now you certainly won't deny that you're a girl anymore, will you?" he grumbled, nursing an injured cheek where she had slapped him. "Kenshin says your real name is Kaoru, by the way." 

"I? A _girl_? My dear man, you are delusional!" the King laughed, with the certainty of someone who has no doubt in the world that he is right. Shimajirou sighed. This was going to be a long talk. 

"Look, Miss King, whatever had you convinced you are a man?" Kamiya blushed furiously and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images her father had presented her with. She was special, she repeated in her head, special, special, special… Her father's stern voice echoing in her mind she looked up to meet Shimajirou's concerned gaze. The man who had once been a Palace Guard captain for her father held nothing but warmth in his gaze, patience and the desire to see something righted for once, to return to normalcy after the crazy events that had shaken his life upside down in the last three days. Kamiya blinked once, twice, but couldn't get over the thundering of his father telling him to be patient, that soon he would be like everybody else, that… her eyes lost focus again. 

Shimajirou sighed even deeper, got up from where he had sat down on Kamiya's bed and went over to the still form of the sleeping Kenshin. 

"Oh well… he's asleep after all." 

*~* 

Sano tried his best to keep up with Hiko Seijurou- but there was just no way anyone would ever match that man. He looked as though he was on a casual stroll through the woods, but the young soldier actually had to jog in order not to fall too far behind. He only hoped that the man he was accompanying didn't realize he had those problems- from what he had gleaned through the little barbs and jabs Hiko had thrown at Saito and the two soldiers standing guard the man had an acerbic tongue that was as unmatchable as his mastery of the sword. 

"What are you? Slow?" Hiko punctuated each word with a sharp glare from his intense eyes. Sano sighed and resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. So much for wishful thinking! 

"Or perhaps I am just too fast for you? Oh, that must be it." Hiko sighed as though the weight of the world lay on his shoulders, but did not break the rhythm of his strides. Sano was rather annoyed with the taller man, clenching his fists as his head turned an attractive red loud enough to alert every creature in the forest to their passing. Muttering angrily under his breath, he held his eyes glued firmly to the ground, trying to take advantage of the terrain as Seijurou did and not realizing that his guide had stopped until he crashed full force into the thick, billowing white mantle and steel-cord muscle underneath. 

"Wha-" he snapped, unable to hold back his anger anymore, but Hiko Seijurou holding up a hand and shooting him a serious look was enough to shut him up for the time being. 

"There is someone out there," Seijurou said, his voice soft enough to hide between the whispering of the pleasantly light breeze rustling the leaves overhead. 

"There is?" Sano tried to get past the swordsmaster to stare into the suddenly ominous seeming woods. Seijurou, however, simply stuck out is arm and held him back, and almost simultaneously the young soldier heard the telltale crunching of dried leaves and snapping of brittle twigs under stumbling feet. 

A sly grin spread across Seijurou's face, seeing as they weren't in any danger from the approaching human. He was determined and rather strong- but the wild fire burning in him wasn't tamed, and thus useless. A child, he guessed, an unformed child with a lot of potential, headstrong and volatile. He would have fun confronting that one… 

"What are you laughing at?" two voices asked almost synchronously, the slight difference in their starting point and speed creating a most amusing echo effect. Seijurou erased the grin from his face and looked down… and down, until his eyes came to rest on the stocky figure of a boy, no more than thirteen and no less than ten years of age, dirty, disheveled, looking as though a good strong gust of wind would be enough to permanently knock him off his feet but with bright and alert brown eyes that held only a slight hint of the exhaustion the rest of his body so clearly depicted. 

"You," Seijurou said, watching as the boy clenched his fists, a vein in temple throbbing ever so slightly. 

"You… big, ugly git!" he cried indignantly, trying to impress the two men he had happened upon by standing up tall, showing off his full height. Seijurou's grin widened. The boy was terrified of the two men he had just met, terrified and relieved that he had found anyone at all. He must have come a long way if the state of his clothes was an indication- in fact, he was wearing a Dunkelland Castle servant's uniform. And… Seijurou's eyes narrowed in anger- the boy was wounded. 

"I am considered handsome by most ladies," he said, watching as the boy tried to keep from swaying and falling. 

"I am looking for chief investigator Saito and the army of Dunkelland Castle," the boy spat, his dark eyes growing more and more unfocused by the minute as he fought off tiredness, pain and the overwhelming sense of loss that the fall of the only home he had ever known had brought. 

"They are on their way back to the castle- you will never catch them, little boy," Sano said gently, kneeling down next to the child. He felt strangely connected to the boy, as though the stubbornness and sense of determination he exhibited by sticking to his self-imposed- for it was clear to the soldier that no responsible commanding officer would have ever sent a young boy like this one off to find Saito and give an important message to him- mission gave them something that linked them on a deeper level. 

"I am not a little boy! My name is Myojin Yahiko, I'll have you know that, and I'm twelve!" Somehow, his knees chose that very second to give in to the pull of gravity, and the boy landed sprawled rather unceremoniously across Hiko Seijurou's feet, staring up into Sano's concerned chocolate eyes furiously. 

"I guess we'll have to take that idiotic brat with us, then," Seijurou sighed, seeing at once that there was no way Sano would do the easy, perhaps more prudent thing and leave the boy behind. 

"Take me with you? Where to?" Yahiko demanded. Both men shook their heads. 

"You'll see, and now be quiet, brat," Hiko Seijurou said evenly. Yahiko bristled with fury. 

"I'm not a brat and I don't want to go with you- hey, put me down this instant! You big rooster-headed idiot! Let me go!" Sano shrugged and adjusted the boy's weight over his shoulder in spite of the vehement protests that were yelled in much too close proximity to his ears for comfort. Resigned to his fate the spiky-haired soldier pulled the red bandanna he was wearing as a reminder of what he had lost down over his irritated hearing organs. 

"How much time until we reach that hideout?" 

*~* 

Saito Hajime was _not_ pleased. He was not even amused. He was a strange blend between furious, livid, embarrassed and miffed. He had been on his way to send off his reports to Kamiya- the army always had their cages with carrier pigeons for just that purpose with them- when the messengers had stumbled up to him. They had been exhausted, panting so hard that the words they forced out were barely understandable, but the message got through nonetheless: Dunkelland Castle had been taken. And it was Saito's fault, or at least the chief investigator held himself at fault for it. He had, after all, taken all of the army away to find the one enemy of the state he had thought most dangerous- even if it had ultimately been Kamiya who had given the order, Kamiya who had given in to his obsession, it was still Saito who had actually carried them out without even trying to dissuade the King from his course of action. 

And now he was paying the price- he was high-strung, with no means of releasing pent-up emotions through fighting. His messengers, which were actually soldiers he had sent ahead to alert the castle to their return, had told him the castle was firmly in the hands of the usurpers, locked down and armed to the tooth. Mercenaries and rioting villagers manned the walls, and one of the soldiers had caught himself a glancing blow from a lucky arrow. Saito ground his teeth together, cursing himself for the thirtieth time- he actually kept track of that- for having been so stupid. There were no news of the King, and the messengers had been unable to determine who led the usurping forces, but had found out during a brief foray into Dunkeltown that a crowning ceremony was to be held the next day already. 

I have to give them that- they certainly don't waste time, whoever they are, the chief investigator thought to himself, restlessly pacing the entire length of the camp for the umpteenth time since receiving the news. I would not have thought it possible that Dunkelland could fall so quickly- but then, King Kamiya had a reign of a few days after King Koshijirou was murdered, and resentment was high among the populace. 

As chief investigator it was Saito's duty to keep an eye on the general feelings of Dunkelland's citizens as well as its enemies, and he would not delude himself into thinking the people had been happy under Koshijirou's and Kamiya's reign. There had been too many taxes, too many unjust punishments, too many constricting rules- honestly, _why on Earth_ had Koshijirou had to make that 'clothing rule'? _No woman is to be vested in a man's clothes. Peasants may only wear clothing made of… and merchant women shall dress with dignity, not wearing too much jewelry… women of the court may own one brooch made of gold but with no more than three precious gems… Women are required to wear garments that cover their ankles at all times…_ and more rubbish of that kind. In fact, there had been clothing rules for everyone, every single occasion and breaking them resulted in ridiculously high punishments. He remembered the feeling of relief thinking he only had to worry about keeping his uniform pristine… 

But the clothing rules had only served as a major irritant. It had been the acts of cruelty committed by the King's agents, the executions without trials, the confiscation of entire crops at the mere implication that something derisive had been said about the royals that had pushed the people over the edge and into the role of willing tools for an usurper. Saito had seen the signs- but he had been too wrapped up in his own vendetta against evil to act upon them. 

You were too complacent with yourself, a nagging voice sniggered at him from the back of his head, a voice that sounded surprisingly like a childish version of his best interrogator's tone. And now I am stuck talking to myself. 

"Chief investigator, what are your orders?" The timid squeak of a subordinate crossing his path roused Saito from both his musings and his wandering. He had not yet thought about the future, too wrapped up in mulling over causes and circumstances, but in the split decision it took him to raise his gaze to meet the flinching subordinate his decision was made. 

"We will go to Shelter One, the King and those remaining loyal to him should be there," he ordered, yellow fire spreading over the unfortunate officer. "Go and tell the army to be ready to move in ten minutes." 

"Yes, sir!" Why, oh why did people get offered commanding positions when their voices were squeaky? They could never get the right amount of respect, would, in spite of any achievement, always seem weak and… 

"Sir, the men are ready!" 

… could be extraordinarily efficient organizing things. 

It took them less than an hour at a brisk marching pace to reach Shelter One, an accumulation of haphazardly thrown together barn buildings on the land of a nobleman who was an ardent supporter of King Kamiya, and actually just the stewart for Saito himself, for Shelter One was built on the chief investigator's property. He did not officially claim ownership, though, for reasons of secrecy and safety, and in times like this his slight paranoia paid off. Shelter One was overflowing with refugees from the castle and Kamiya supporters from Dunkeltown who had fled from the threat of being lynched upon sight by the rioters. 

"Men, make camp and then make yourselves useful," he ordered, already looking around for the persons he hoped to see. His senses were tingling with the overload of emotions, and even his _haragei_ was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people cramped together- in short, he was unable to sense whether Kamiya or Shinomori were around. Much to his annoyance, he had to resort to more conventional means of looking for them. 

"You," he stopped a young girl carrying two large jugs full of water, startling her into a slight gasp, "where is the King and Shinomori?" 

She was frightened- whether it was because an imposing stranger asked something of her or because he was the chief investigator asking for information he did not know. "I… I think Shinomori is in the medic ward, but our King… I don't think anybody knows where he is," she stuttered out and hurried to take off after curtseying politely. Saito scowled and sent her retreating back a dark look. She had not been particularly helpful… he grabbed hold of a young man next. 

"Where is the medic ward?" Again, the frightened reaction. The man just pointed a shaky finger at one of the smaller barns, quivering so much he could not even keep his hand steady. Saito let go of his arm, watching as he scurried off gratefully. Hell, he almost wished for Battousai to come back as Akai the donzel to give him some respite from that! He wasn't going to skin and cook them alive after all! 

"Why are you looking for the medic ward?" The cool and cultured voice was one he would recognize in his sleep. And _she_, thankfully, wasn't too much afraid of him either. 

"I want to talk to Shinomori," he said, curtly but politely. She nodded. 

"I thought so. He is in the company of the Amazon princess Misao at the moment, however, and recuperating from injuries received while fighting to let Kamiya escape. Our King has yet to be found, as I'm sure you have been informed already, and apart from Shinomori the Palace Guard is no more. There are about two hundred wounded in here, half of which are walking, the others… varying." She could not get herself to say that a quarter of the wounded might not live to see the next day. She had always been clairvoyant when it came to the outcome of injuries, and it was a curse she found hard to bear at times. 

"Thank you. That was the most enlightening report I've heard since my arrival. Would you perhaps tell me how the castle was taken if I accompany you? I understand you wouldn't want to neglect your duties." Saito _could_ be civil if he was met with a certain competence and dignity. 

"I will tell you all I know, but maybe you should speak to princess Misao? She knows more about the fate of Kamiya, albeit less about how the villagers gained entrance to the castle." The medicine woman flipped her dark veil back from her face with these words, carefully washing her hands in a bowl she had poured scalding hot water into. A slight grimace was the only sign of the discomfort she had to be suffering from. 

"Lead the way," Saito said. 

… to be continued … 

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_Well… I'm sorry that this is rather short, but my piano professor (yup, since the beginning of the year Ry and I are being instructed by an actual professor!) wanted to get me started on Rachmaninov's second piano concerto (one of the easiest to play piano concertos around, but taxing nonetheless), meaning I have to go through strengthening and endurance exercises all over again… and then one of my best friends came from France for a surprise visit. Soazig is great and has been my friend ever since I cracked my skull for her (it's a long story, but it basically boils down to a few bullies, Soazig not wanting to hand over her money, a baseball bat, eleven-year-old Chi not being able to speak Verlin, the natural Chi stubbornness and me telling Soazig to run while I would deal with them. I couldn't, and ended up in hospital for three weeks with a cracked skull and a fractured tibia. Soazig has stuck with me ever since then), but her obsession with dresses and shopping is a bit disturbing. It means she wants me to go to that blasted ball so she will be able to go as well. It's all fine when you're French and have a body to die for, but… well, I won't go there. ARGH! Stupid, stupid ball complicates everything for me! Life was so easy with only school and a few hobbies to deal with! Now I've got a nagging best-friend and twin brother on my case as well as questions of whom with or whether at all I will go to a stupid school ball! And on top of it, she even wrote the last six lines of the Kaoru/Shimajirou scene! I would have never thought of that and don't really know how to deal with it, but Ry and Néli think it's a blast and won't let me change it! Help!!! I WANT OUT!!! _

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_Next chapter: _**If I saw the world in an hourglass**_: Kamiya is trying to come to terms with what (s)he has been… *ahem- thanks again for that, Saz!* shown, Kenshin's long road to recuperation, Saito and Megumi meet up with Aoshi and Misao, Yahiko, Sano and Seijurou… hope you're up for a turbulent chapter! _

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_Soundtrack for chapter 16: Van Geles: Chariots of Fire _

_L. van Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 'Pastorale' _

_Sergei Rachmaninov: piano concerto No. 2 _

_Ottorino Respighi: Suite 'Dances and Songs of Old' _

_Sting: Moon over Bourbon Street (I was listening to that while reading **the sacred night**'s wonderful story 'The Sacred Night'- it fits like a glove as a theme song, a fact which inspired me to grab my Gerry and write some more RtK…!) _

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**Reviewer's corner**

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**Curls of Serenity**_: Néli feels so honored that you all wish her better and does her best to recover from the latest chemos- she even promised me her favorite red basecap when she has won over that cancer! *grins* Not much of a meeting- yet. That will all come next chapter… including that 'you're a girl'-talk inspired by Soazig aka Saz, my best friend from France… I have seen only an episode or two of Naruto, but I've read the manga up to the fight against that mirror guy (don't remember the name off the top of my head- that really weird one who's prettier than Sakura). Sasuke definitely **is** funny! *grins again* _

**missaw**_: Leeches are scary *shies away from those Ryan has insisted on growing in his tank*! Can't imagine who would send them to you *hides alternate personality*- have some more chocolate as payment! Thanks for reviewing! _

**Lily of the Shadow**_: Will do- in fact, once this is posted I'll have an hour of free time which I'm not going to devote to studying! I'll write! Néli sends her thanks!!! About the multiple storylines: it's fun to write them- I joined a writing club back at my last school in France, and learned a bit about the technique of writing multi-POV stories (not that I was particularly good at it since I had to write in French… and I definitely am not up to par in French!). I feel happy you realized it!!! _

**Dove of Night**_: Eeek! Collapsed lungs? I'd have died of fright! Nope, I stick to the more conventional cuts, broken bones and bruises- cracked my skull once, though *g*! Teeheee… I can't wait for more Silence. Write!!! Néli wants to read, too- I send the chapters to her brother by e-mail and he prints them for her. She's still in hospital but feeling a bit better now that the treatment's over again… I hope she makes it, too! _

**Jessikitty**_: Love the hyper you!!! *huggles* Stress makes for a wonderful companion late at night… especially in the form of a chronically insomniac twin brother! Errr… my nationality, yes… I guess that needs a little more explaining… Genetically, I'm one-eighth Japanese (Mom's grandma is Japanese and an Aikido master- unfortunately, she refused to teach anyone after Mom, and since she couldn't become a master Ry and I don't have the skill, we've taken to fencing instead, like our dad), one-eighth French-Canadian (Mom's grandpa), one-quarter British-Irish (Mom's other grandparents), one-quarter German (Dad) and one-quarter Italian-American (Dad again). Factually, Ryan and I have an American, a Canadian and a German passport (our parents have got two each). Spiritually, I'm a cosmopolitan since I've never lived in one place long enough to develop any roots or connections to it- Ry likes to call our family the 'globalization experiment' ^_^ _

**Kairi7**_: Thank you, will do and she sends her love and thanks! _

**The-Lone-Lemon**_: Ummm… to be honest, I had a looong Shimajirou/Kaoru talk where Saz's six lines are now… it took her, Ry and Néli a lot of talking to convince me to leave it this way. Hope you're not too disappointed at the rather… straightforward method! Next chapter will see the talking, though (I love writing dialogue!) _

**^_^**_: I had Seijurou tell Shimajirou about Kaoru's little identity problem, so he knows already and will help Kenshin with her 'conversion'. Hope you liked it nonetheless! _

**Firiel11**_: Thanks for your offer! I'll definitely take you up on it someday… I promised Néli to stick to her as long as she can manage, though, and I'm not going back on my promises… she sends her love, thanks for the well-wishes and says she should probably take lessons from you! _

**Natsuko**_: Néli is a little overwhelmed by all the people rooting for her- she says if she doesn't get better now then she never will (and got up for the first time since her chemos immediately thereafter so it DOES help! Thanks from me!!!). Hope you're not too swamped with schoolwork- I have had a break since there was fencing camp this weekend (until Tuesday) and I got to use the foil left-handed (my trainer usually refuses to let me fence with a foil left-handed because I'm supposed to train my weaker hand and use the left hand as a surprise in tournaments- it always throws opponents off when I switch in the middle of a match!)! Prophetic dreams are cool! I only know when Ry is in trouble, and that's hardly prophetic since it happens about every other day… _

_Shimajirou WILL be driven insane- Kaoru will see to that *smiles angelically*. Oibore seems to want the best for his kids, I think… and somehow, that twisted into my weird Oibore. But you're right, of course- he's a rather friendly, happy guy (after all, the birds come to him AND to Kenshin…). *grins* I was glad I got rid of Yano- he got written into the story because I lost a bet with Ry, and had to include a character with the name of that weird animated puppet that looks like it was made to scare small children and is supposed to tell stories (TV commercial in Germany… really, really scary- I'd run if I was a kid and got such a thing!). Well, out came Yano… and now he's thankfully gone (he was rather difficult to write!). Hope I won't lose any bets anytime soon! Néli sends her love, and says she'll have me writing more! Thanks for everything!!! _

**Felina**_: I abuse Sano a little, I admit to it… but I can't stay serious all the time! Shimajirou did recognize the similarities, but he didn't immediately draw the connection between that strange girl, Seijurou's tale and the King- he doesn't know about the castle, after all! _

**dinkydaelf**_: My twin Ry loves character torture, too! He created the Chain Master and helps me with most of the action/torture scenes (he is MUCH better at this than I am. Would be great darkfic writer!). Not much K/K interaction yet, but much more to come! _

**kitiara_uth_mathar**_: Yikes, that was a difficult penname for me to spell! Long story? *blinks* Didn't even realize this… ubt I guess it's true. Kaoru has found out her true sex in this chapter. Now she only needs to accept it and learn how to deal with the consequences… _

**bonessasan**_: welcome to the psychotic loser's club- can I be VP? I have been labeled that ever since birth, I think- my twin is the cool one and I'm the weird, not-so-cool one… Hope you liked the chapter, and there will be some Romancing coming up next (after all, Kaoru needs to realize that there ARE advantages to being a girl!)! _

**kimono girl**_: WOW, I didn't ever think I was going to make such an impact. I just write for fun, after all, and have no ambition whatsoever of becoming anything remotely author-like *hides blush*. Yup, the story isn't even at the halfway mark… serious Romancing to begin next chapter! And I will edit this once I find the time- especially the earlier chapters have some appalling mistakes in them, as I confused myself with that whole pronoun thingy… Hope I'll get it right sometime soon. Thanks for all that praise- and I hope you'll continue to read!!! _

**Monique**_: *strokes grammar* I have put my grammar next to the oven for it to get some extra warmth so that it might feel comfortable with me someday… and the climax will begin… a LOT later! But the romance, and Kaoru getting feelings for Kenshin, will begin next chapter- honestly!!! _

**Naiya-chan**_: *grins* I can tell you with a clear conscience that I'm not a genius- I don't qualify, as I have no special ability. But, I'm a certified lunatic with a Pirates of the Caribbean poster outside my room on which it says 'Here There Be Monsters- Enter At Your Own Risk!'. Add to that a family of geniuses: a twin brother for whom everything scientific is a plaything, an uncle and a cousin who are both full eidetics, a mother who got her Doctor's title for biology at the age of twenty-two while she was pregnant with twins and a father who knows just about anything he chooses to about electronics, programming, physics and chemistry and you have a bunch of crazy people. Naturally, as the only non-special one I pushed myself a little harder each year to keep up with the dinner conversation, and that's gotten me to where I am now. About the snippets of my life: I have nothing to hide. I have been told that, when you meet me in person, I never give my emotions or intentions away (very useful when fencing), but in writing I can't hide as it is purely me… And besides, I know that I, as a reader, am irritated if an author doesn't update, or updates late, and doesn't give any reasons for it (oops, snoopy Chi…)- so I just tell people. My original languages would be German (from my Dad) and English (from my Mom), but I never really learned them right as, while I was very little, we moved around even more than we do now (a new country every year, so to speak), and Ryan and I had to adapt and try to at least get a basic knowledge of whatever language was spoken where we went next- so I guess learning one or two 'properly' simply fell through the net… _

**Eeevee**_: School can be mean- I am glad that there is a lull for me at the moment! Kaoru just doesn't want to think of herself as not being the King anymore- she'll have to deal with it next chapter, though, and I really, really look forward to writing some serious fidgeting and confrontation when Shimajirou and Kenshin refuse to do her bidding! Teehee… you know what? Perhaps that's why I'm not that good at grammar- I love to break the rules!!! Thanks a lot for reviewing!!! _

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_Well, that's it for today, take care and smile a lot- smiling makes for one more sunny day *grins and smiles cheekily*! Of course, that's easily said when you just came back from fencing camp… _

_PS: I just found an old photo album of my parents from Ryan's and my first years- Mom looks absolutely stunning in a kimono (and Dad unbelievably funny), and who would have thought Ry and I were such big blobs of lards when we were two *shudders at the thought that she could have stayed that way*! _

_PPS: **Please go to **_www. geocities.com /bikifriend _(without the spaces) **and vote for RtK in the elimination contest!!! Thanks a lot!!! **_

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_Cya!!! _

_Chi_****


	17. If I caught the world in an hourglass

_Ciao!!! _

_Alright, I know it's been forever since I updated, but I do have a very, very convincing cause to plead. First, my family had to move to South Africa instead of New Zealand. THEN I got the scholarship for Uni in Wellington, meaning I'm half a world from the rest of my folks, THEN I got into trouble with the German authorities for completing my schooling before my 16th birthday, meaning I had my first struggle against bureaucratic red tape, THEN I helped my twin brother with his enrolment in a German boarding school (b/c of the way the German school system works he would have lost a year transferring to an International school), THEN I moved to NZ and THEN I got to know the joys of uni life__ trying to attain a dual bachelor's degree in law and biochemistry__- meaning __almost as many courses as I had at school,__ more work, no tim__e for social life OR writing__. So, this is the earliest I could get back into swing. I hope none of you have forgotten RtK, as I certainly __haven't__. With this I leave you to your reading… Enjoy!!! _

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denotes talking 

denotes thinking

_(-----)_ means a change of scenery (either temporal or local, I think which one of those will be clear) has taken place

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Disclaimer: I do in no way own any rights, moral or others, to Rurouni Kenshin, its characters or plot. Characters other than the characters from Rurouni Kenshin bearing any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. I do not intend to make any profits out of this story, it's written for entertainment purposes only and any attempt by persons natural or legal to make money from it in any way is not in accordance with this author's express wishes.

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**Written as a present to Néli, who had better think her wishes over again! **

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**_Chapter 17 _**

**If I caught the world in an hourglass **

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Yahiko was trying to make sense of the two men bickering right in front of him. As he acknowledged the boy's shorter legs, Hiko Seijurou, the taller and more muscular (and much more bizarrely dressed) of the two had slowed his pace. Unfortunately, that left the lankier one, Sagara Sanosuke, enough air to argue back and forth about everything and anything he thought of. The boy felt rather left out, trying his best to run after the men, unable to match their easy strides with his stubbier legs, and scoffed at the shrubbery as he huffed and puffed along. In spite of his earlier claims he did not feel up to a long walk in the woods, but the rooster-headed man had finally given in to his kicks and screams and had dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor while that insufferable arrogant git called Hiko had ordered him to "Walk, then!" at the same time. 

He wished he had not insisted on being let down. Running through all of Dunkelwald after having lived through a battle was more than a child could or should endure, and here he was, awake for more than a day in a row already, and stumbling over his own feet just because of his pride. Yahiko blinked, trying to get rid of the annoying colorful dots that started to cloud his vision. His feet refused to work properly, clinging rather close to the uneven ground, making his gait unseemly, shuffling, stumbling. He tripped over every single tree root in the way and took every single opportunity to kiss the ground, and to be honest he was getting fed up with that.

"Honestly, would it be so hard to slow down a bit?" he called out in annoyance after meeting with an exceptionally sharp stone and rather disliking the introduction.

That Hiko Seijurou just raised an eyebrow, scowling at the young man and his antics. Sagara on the other hand shot him a taunting look and a provocative gesture with his hands.

"Hard to keep up with real men, short stuff?" he asked, drawling the sentence in that insufferable accent of his. Hiko rose to the bait.

"Don't you mean a man and an idiot?" he asked lazily. Sagara exploded.

"Who's the idiot?" he raged. Hiko simply shrugged.

"If you can't even figure that one out I don't know why I bother keeping you around." And they were back in their habit. Yahiko rolled his eyes, sighing.

"Children!" he muttered, but had to concentrate on running again lest his accidents multiply. He was close to the brink of dropping unconscious, and he knew it. His eyes felt as though someone had just strewn a whole barrel of sand into them, and the itch didn't seem to want to go away even though he rubbed them furiously.

Yet he still refused to give up. He didn't want to suffer the indignity of being carried, not when he was already twelve and had survived an attack by the mysterious old man and his lackeys. He would not… or perhaps he'd just lie there and wait for someone to notice he was no longer running. His body was aching in places he didn't even know existed, and the whole trek suddenly seemed so meaningless when compared to the wonderful promise of sleep that waited just behind the sand on his eyelids.

He as barely aware of Sagara wondering where the 'short stuff' was, and mumbled a reply that he was tall for his age, then he gave in to the lure of nothingness and dropped off- soundly asleep for the first time in over a day.

_(-----) _

Kamiya, the young King who had lost his throne, had had his world turned upside down with just the loss of a piece of cloth obstructing his view. It should not have come as such a shock to him- after all, he had been exposed to more world-turning experiences in the last two days than he had ever wanted to. Still… he could not get over the fact that there was something he should see but couldn't- and it was not the fact that Battousai's nose twitched so cutely when he awoke.

Fuzzy in his mind was a harsh, rough shout of "Don't you see? You're a _wo_…"- and then there was only blackness. Deep, comfortable, soothing blackness, the power of declining, the lull of negating, the steady pleasure of not knowing. Although… he should know, he had been told. He had been… shown. Shown with a clarity that he could remember, but not what he had been seeing. It had shaken his very core, and for a moment the King had retreated into the shell of the little boy that had been scolded and punished for anything _inappropriate_ by his father. He had come out of it when the punishment didn't set in, but it had taken the clarity away. He should be able to recall it all… Yet all he could remember was a most embarrassing feeling of attraction to an unconscious _man_ of all things!

Am I going crazy? Or… had it already happened? Kamiya couldn't turn his gaze away from the slight lump underneath the covers that was Battousai's body. His face had settled into the unnerving stillness of his borderline unconscious sleep again, the nose-twitching but a memory. Kamiya carefully reached for a strand of fire-red hair that lay across the scarred cheek. Battousai's fight against death was far from won, if he recalled the strange Hiko's comments right. He was still right there on the brink between existing and vanishing, and the King found a strange pain in his chest at the thought that this assassin might actually not make it. The pain turned into a strangling ache as the young assassin struggled to take a breath and a weak cough issued from his mouth, accompanied by a dribble of blood running from the corner.

"What am I to do?" the dethroned King asked the rather silent shelter in a panicky voice that once again held the squeak he had worked so hard to eliminate. If he was truthful he did sound like a girl, and of course there was this case Hiko had made… he remembered the argument being proven, but not how.

"I wish that foolish man would finally give up on this notion that I'm a woman," the King grumbled, folding his hands in his lap. The red-head in front of her twitched as if in response to his statement and the King waited with bated breath for him to awake- but the only thing that happened was that he scrunched his eyebrows together and started shivering as though caught in another nightmare. Kamiya, out of instinct, reached out to him, smoothing long strands of silky soft hair away from his brow, eliciting a soft moan from the sleeping man.

"You know, you really don't look all that dangerous like this." Another hand, cool and dry, went to the sweaty brow, bringing relief to the heated skin.

"Ah, that's where you would be mistaken, Miss King," Shimajirou had entered unannounced, his silent steps unnoticeable to one not trained in the art of _ki_ reading.

"Why?" With all that had been going on the past few hours and days, the King had lost some of the rigidity his upbringing had installed in him and allowed his natural curiosity to shine through. He even let slide the snide 'Miss King' remark.

"He," Shimajirou nodded towards Kenshin, who tried to curl up on the bed and failed miserably, as his injuries prevented any movement of that sort, "is trained to read _ki_ even under the most dire of circumstances, his trainer would have made sure of that. Rest assured that, had you had intent to harm him or attack, he would have taken you out regardless of the damage he would do to himself with that."

"But… how?" Kamiya was intrigued. "I mean, how would he know? He can't see me, he can't even move," here she restrained a calloused hand from clawing at the bandages around his chest, "and he certainly can't take me out!"

"He is Battousai, what do you think? That he got his reputation from merely slaughtering a few unsuspecting nobles in the midst of the night?" Shimajirou usually despised the sarcasm his brother used in every single sentence, but by being in close quarters with that insufferably stuck-up girl who _still_ thought she was a man and the King of Dunkelland forced him to at least understand Hiko's motives. "You don't seem to realize that these men were powerful. Once King Shimajirou realized there was a threat to them he sent out his armies for protection. Still, he got through. There was no man, no army, no trap that could hold him. Why, if you're the King you should know that. He escaped from _your_ stronghold in this condition!"

"I… I know that!" Kamiya's hands were spread defensively. "But… it's just hard to imagine that…"

"Then don't try to imagine it. Concentrate on the moment, Miss. You might find something worthwhile in it." Shimajirou turned and went to get some wet cloth to cool down the fever of his brother's apprentice.

"What do you mean by that? Don't turn your back on me! I demand you show me due respect! Answer my question, you big oaf! I'm your…" Shimajirou had had enough. He was a very patient man and was often accused to let others walk over him by his more spirited brother, but even a temper like his would snap if stressed too much.

"You told me yourself- the castle was attacked, the King forced out of his position, the land usurped. Thus, even if you _are indeed_ King Kamiya, you are _not the King anymore_. And it would do you good to remember that, young lady!" he thundered.

Kamiya was not to be deterred. "I _might_ have lost my crown. I _might_ have lost my home, my people and everything, but that still doesn't make me less of a king! And I _am not different_ now just because I don't openly rule anymore! And _don't call me a lady_!"

What came as a surprise was that Shimajirou simply chuckled over her irate display. "You seem to have found some answers, Miss King," he said. Kamiya blinked in irritation, her rage dissipating into mere annoyance. "You see, you didn't even know anymore where you belonged or who you were. Now you have answered these questions," Shimajirou clarified.

If Kamiya was honest with himself… herself… whatever, he had to admit that the gentle giant of a man was right. In provoking him… or her… into a reaction the King had acquired a new outlook, even if the implications of what he had said were unclear as of yet and time was needed to think it all through.

"Well, I'm going outside to check up on a few traps I've set in the forest. You, my little lady, and Kenshin both need a high-protein diet to recover… even though he won't be up to anything but broth for the next week at least. Could you keep an eye on him? Give him a little water when he wakes… make sure he doesn't try to move around, it's not exactly healthy for him. Or for you. Water's here, in that jug. So…" he cracked his neck, the sickening sound of vertebrae realigning themselves making the King in exile cringe. "I'm off!"

As if to torture the poor confused human being that was Kamiya the man on the bed started opening his eyes just as the door slammed shut behind the impressive frame of her not-quite-gracious host. Bleary violet slits showed up behind their prison bars of long, dark red lashes, and a quiet groan escaped from parched lips. Kamiya blinked nervously, memories stirring, but stayed calm and composed.

"Would you like something to drink?" The question was asked before it could be held back.

"Water… please." Hands, their broken nails still rimmed dark with dirt, clenched around the comforter that hid the shivering body of Battousai, or, as Hiko Shimajirou called him, Kenshin.

Kamiya quickly (or at least as quickly as her swollen, raw feet allowed her to) fetched an earthen cupful of the cool drink.

"Thank you," he rasped, staring incredulously at the young King serving him, the assassin. Kamiya- no, not Kamiya, he could not call her that, not now, not when she was as close to her natural state as he had ever seen her. Kaoru, then, Kaoru was staring back at him, some unspoken emotion shining from the depths of her eyes.

"You're welcome," she said, the beauty of her melodious voice not diminished by the fact that her sore throat lent it a husky air.

"How long?" he asked, forcing the words past uncooperative lips.

"A few hours since you last woke," she explained, understanding his question.

"Oh." He tried to focus past is injuries, tried to remember what had happened. He had been with his master and the old soldier that had once been the Captain of the Palace Guard. He had been spoken to by Master Hiko, cared for… and then his memories became fuzzy.

"Where?" he asked, once again reducing the vocalization of his question to the bare minimum. In an uncharacteristic show of patience Kaoru placed her hand on his brow- so nice and cool, comfortable- and smiled at him.

"I don't know. Somewhere in the woods, in an old… I don't even know what this is. I think it's some safe place."

"Safe?"

"Safe." He relaxed against the hand still touching his face.

"What about Master?" he asked, not a second later.

"What master?" she asked, bewildered. He stared up into her slightly narrowed nightsky eyes. How could anyone believe this girl to be evil? In the depths of these windows he saw the beauty of an untainted soul, reflected off the courage of an unbroken spirit buried under a load noone should be forced to carry.

"My… master. I was trying to reach him," he said. Somehow, secrecy and protecting Hiko Seijurou from prying eyes didn't seem all that important anymore, now that he had found the perfect distraction from his pain- had she used this simple interrogation method of caring for him, looking at him with concern and tenderness in her face and stealing his firmly tethered heart with innocent glances he would not have been able to resist.

"I don't know anything about any masters," she said, the haughty, aristocrat tone she had cultivated as the King returning with a vengeance. "We are currently housed in an abominable shack with a slightly crazy former Captain of the Palace Guard named Hiko Shimajirou."

"_Hiko_ Shimajirou?" Kenshin lifted an eyebrow unbelievingly, and forced down a groan as the cuts on his scalp erupted into a fiery spider's net of headache-inducing throbbing.

"That's what I said, isn't it? You would do well not to question me all the time!" Her nose turned skyward, but her hand suddenly smoothed back a lock of hair that had stubbornly fallen over his blue-black right eye.

"I… " Kenshin stammered.

"Anyways, he is not here at the moment. He went to check on his traps- as though we were savages hunting with traps!" she shook her head in obvious disdain.

"No… you probably never hunted with traps…" Kenshin murmured, relishing her touch that had by now migrated to his cheek, the unscarred one. "But that doesn't mean the game served at your galas wasn't."

"What would _you_ know about the… oh!" Turning pink with sudden realization, her unbound hair lying in a tangle of black around her face and shoulders she was even prettier. What he wouldn't give to smooth it back for her, like she had done for him, but he knew that, with the state he was in, any attempts to do so would rekindle the flare of agony in his injuries that were just a dull throb at the edge of his awareness for now.

"How… how did you get here?" he asked. The difficulty of pronunciation his puffed lips caused resulted in a slight lisp. Her face fell, her lips thinning into a firm line of misery and shadows clouding over her eyes.

"I ran," she said, "I ran as fast as I could after White-hair had disarmed me. Not a very glorious thing for a King to do, is it?" The bitterness in her voice conveyed what her clipped speech couldn't: the agony of feeling insufficient, a failure. The sting in Kenshin's heart was so great that he disregarded all discomfort to himself and caressed her cheek with a weak hand raised with all the inner strength he possessed.

"You… might not be King anymore," he ground out, "but… you still are yourself. You are not broken, Kamiya Kaoru. You have merely suffered a minor setback."

"Kaoru?" she asked, confusion worming its way through her emotional agony. He let his hand fall into his lap again, the force of will necessary to keep it up too great for his tired mind and body.

"It's your name, the name your mother gave you- Princess."

"Not you too!" she moaned, turning her eyes heavenward. "Why does everybody have this crazed notion of me being a female? I'm your _King_!"

"Not anymore," Kenshin stated flatly, determined to resolve this one issue there and now. "And, to be honest, you have never been. You were Dunkelland's queen, yes, but you were never a king. Your father wanted an heir, and because your mother died and couldn't give him one he first killed my grandmother and then, before ordering me killed, announced the birth of his son." Amber crept into his eyes as he continued.

"The soldier sent to kill me didn't. He cut my shoulder, and sent me running. I found a master, and learned all I could." He ended his tale, carefully studying the young woman sitting on his bed. She seemed shocked into silence, but something in her posture told him she had just found something she had probably been searching for all her life.

"So… it's true? All these little _differences_ my father said would go away in time are just me… being female?" Her voice was quiet, disturbingly quiet. He held her questioning gaze and simply answered "Yes."

And she started laughing. Not a giggle, not laughter that came from deep within, no bubbling sound of joy but the shrill tears of disappointment and insanity that didn't want to fall and were therefore screamed into the air.

Listening to those screams was one of the hardest things Kenshin had done in his life. The raw despair and sheer unadulterated pain contained within them cut deeply into his soul, crushing his heart. As hardened, as battle-weary and as torn as he was, a broken spirit where hers was still whole, he felt with her. And a single tear escaped one lavender eye as he refused to ease his own suffering by turning away from her.

With every passing second her screaming became more ragged, suddenly suffused with sobs welling up from her throat, and then, finally, when all hope seemed lost with her in the hellish pits of lunacy she cried. The floodgates to her pain finally opened her tears were the river that raged through a land ravaged by drought. Strangely silent after her screams, they were nonetheless no less eloquent, even more beautiful in their simplicity. She did not throw herself onto the floor, neither did she fall haplessly onto the helpless wounded man, she simply sat there, as she had sat when she had screamed, but her fingernails this time broke the skin of her palms, leaving crescent half-moons of blood on the sheets where she gripped them in her torment.

Silently watching, Kenshin tried to lend her all his strength of spirit, to fortify her essence against the onslaught of insecurity that the acceptance of having lived a lie would bring. But once again, she astounded him as she overcame her crying herself, pulling herself together in a show of obstinacy and quiet power. Eyelashes still fending off the last vestiges of her tears that clung to them, silver drops of moonlight caught in rays of dark black silk, she suddenly looked upon him with a newfound resolve in both posture and gaze.

"If I'm a woman… no, _because_ I'm a woman… means I… means I'm not… different. Means I can do this," she said, the rough syllables rolling off her tongue with a decidedly more female pitch than before. And ere the dumbfounded young man, that bruised and beaten, broken, ugly, guilty, read-haired murderer could react she bent down to his level, firmly pressing her lips to his.

_(-----) _

Shimajirou carefully traipsed around the un-sprung traps along the rabbit trail he had found early that morning. So far, only one of the small beasts hung from his belt, hardly enough meat to make for a meal for three.

Sighing, he straightened his back after ascertaining that yet another trap underneath a hazel was empty and continued along the trail, eyes glued to the forest floor, ears listening for anything suspicious. Even though the hide-out was in one of the most remote (not to mention dangerous) parts of Dunkelwald, the possibility that this new leader, the white-haired freak that had even his brother's little pupil terrified, would be insane enough to send his men to comb the forest still existed.

It thusly didn't come as such a surprise that two voices reached his ears. Snapping into a defensive stance- by the sound of it they were just outside his field of vision- he brought his sword to bear in front of him, ready to take whatever was thrown at him.

"Now shut up, we're about to meet my brother," one of the voices, a deep one laced so thoroughly with sarcasm as to be impossible to be mistaken shouted rather loudly. No doubt, Hiko Seijurou had already sensed Shimajirou's presence and now wanted to ensure he did not attack- which in turn meant his companion was no swordsmaster, otherwise he would have left him to fend for himself.

"I'm here, brother," he said, re-sheathing his weapon. Seijurou _had_ been just outside his field of vision, as had his companion. However, when said man came into view Shimajirou's hand once again landed on the pommel of his sword- he wore the uniform of a royal castle guard.

"Stand down, Shimajirou," Seijurou snapped, his patience clearly worn thin, either by his companion or… was this a young boy hanging like a sack of overripe apples from the tall soldier's shoulders?

"Who are they?" Shimajirou asked with an inquisitive incline of the head.

"He?" Seijurou pointed to the soldier, "is called Sano… he is a friend of my baka deshi's, or at least he claims to be. As he's not dangerous, I thought we could risk to test that theory." The soldier bristled at being labeled 'not dangerous', but for once didn't speak up.

"He," Seijurou stabbed his forefinger at the boy, "is a survivor of the battle at the castle in need of medical attention. And since you have done such a splendid job with my baka deshi I figured I'd rather leave him to your tender care. No need to soil my hands… Now, what are you doing out here? Hunting? Traps are most certainly not the most efficient way of going about that. Know what? Take us to the hide-out, I'll get something later."

Seijurou's careless dismissal of Shimajirou's methods of hunting rubbed the older man a little wrong, but for now he simply bore his brother's casual arrogance and, with a last glance at his last empty trap, led the way to the building housing the deranged girl and the wounded warrior. Perhaps Seijurou's presence would startle the latter from his unconscious sleep?

Shimajirou sighed. He would have to keep a close eye on that soldier. If that girl-king once again tried to make a claim for power and had his help, things might get out of hand, and he didn't really want to risk that with a severely injured boy… man he had come to think of as a favorite nephew in the house. But then, he trusted his brother's judgment. With his abilities in sensing, he was rarely wrong about people. Squaring his shoulders, Shimajirou set off at a brisk pace. It was better not to prolong the waiting.

_(-----) _

Yukishiro Enishi was rather pleased with his new accommodations. Dunkelland Castle was a magnificent fortress, with high crenelations and wide battlements. Massive walls encircled the top of a steep hill, a natural defense added to the human-made ones. The stones of said walls were packed tightly, almost without any mortar between them, held together by the forces of pressure and gravity, making it impossible for friend or foe to scale them without inside help. And inside help had been routed out by the religious, ruthless purging of the castle. Now, all that remained was subduing the last vestiges of resistance out in the country, and having Shishio on his side was going to take care of that problem. The methods the narrow-faced man employed were rather to his liking, as well as very efficient. And nobody could accuse the former assistant of Gohei that he was anything but thorough.

His father, Oibore, had taken residency in the former King's quarters, finding the Spartan but comfortable interior decorations sufficient. Enishi himself had stayed with most of the militia in the guard barracks, preferring them to the splendor of most of the castle rooms. Nonetheless, most of his day had been spent in conference with the other two leaders of the assault, determining their further course of action. Carrier pigeons had been sent out with instructions to their helpers all over Dunkelland, and Enishi was sure that, within the month, the country would be firmly in their hands.

However, the neighboring Amazons were posing a problem- their princess had been drawn into the fight, had not been seen since then and was most likely dead. Although he didn't know anything about their queen, a feasible reaction to this situation would be an attack by the fierce female warriors. Neither Enishi nor Shishio would have to worry, of course, because no female was good enough to beat them (Enishi knew for a fact that there was no male capable of beating him, either- even the fabled Battousai was weaker than him), but his men were not as talented. That could pose a problem… unless the princess turned up. Then, he would simply force her to marry him, force-forging an alliance between the two countries that could not easily be broken.

Enishi kept his predatory smile firmly on his face as he watched the first white birds return to the castle. Their wings beat the air rhythmically, as though they wanted to announce complete victory. Turning sharply, Enishi left his vantage place on the highest tower- ironically, he had chosen the same as Battousai always had- and went to find out what his men had to say. He hoped for their sake they were all positive messages.

_(-----) _

The pressure on his lips was both painful and pleasurable, immensely so. As though she didn't care about the wounds disfiguring him, as though she didn't even think about his crimes any more, the young girl named Kaoru kissed him as though her life was dependant on this. As shocked as he was, sparks ignited behind his eyes and he reciprocated the kiss, ignoring the way she had latched onto his still unclothed body, hands clenching around his bandaged middle as she lay halfway across him.

Any thought fled when her tongue darted from the prison of her teeth, tangling with his own in a battle for dominance. Her sweet taste, her soft lips, her heavenly smell were all he realized as he somehow managed to encircle her with his arms. His heart, frozen in time after the death of his grandmother, fully returned to life, beating frantically against his ribcage. The sparkles he had felt earlier developed into full-grown flames of heated passion as he did his best to claim and mark her as his own. Eyes snapping open, displaying their full amber glory to the world were nonetheless unseeing as feelings thought buried beneath an impenetrable layer of steel-hard will returned. A forgotten treasure had awakened, had returned to life after a long period of dormancy. 'If I caught the world in an hourglass... I would wish it to be in a moment like this!' was the only coherent thought he managed.

Their lips met, then bonded, and Kaoru felt as though the Earth herself were moving in her hand, like the trembling heart of a captive bird. Smooth skin covering lithe but strong muscles felt warm to her touch, coarse bandages heightening the sensation. Forgetting the bruises on his face, his split lip, even the slight coppery taste of blood on her tongue, she tried to taste him, emboldened by his positive reaction to her kiss. He moaned, tasting of her as she tasted of him, glorious, simple instinct taking over where nurture lost track. Her hands skimmed across his lean chest, recognizing and not noticing his state of undress, uncaring yet healing. His arms trapped her within a circle of heat, reminder of the fever that was broken but not beaten. Her heart hammered, her spirit sung as she claimed what was her birthright as a woman. She forgot her identity, lost what she was thinking, existed as pure touch, feel, sensation. It wasn't _her_ anymore, that girl tumbling through a swirling vortex of pleasure.

Like waves crashing onto the shore reality came crashing back to her when the door to the hide-out flew open with a resounding _bang_. Her eyes widened in fright, latched onto the amber irises in front of her, as she clung even closer to the man she had just kissed. Realization forced the redness to rise in her cheeks, not out of shame but out of embarrassment. She could hardly remember _why_ she had wanted to kiss Battousai, fact was, she had, and was now lying prostrate on him in a rather compromising position.

Not that he seemed to mind- he still looked rather dazed and lost in that place between the stars where they had traveled together just a moment before.

"So this is what my little baka deshi is up to when you leave him alone," a rather deep, pleasant voice chuckled, and Battousai underneath her groaned.

"Master," he said.

"The good thing is, we now have a free bed," the tall man striding into the hide-out as though he owned it continued. "And I guess my baka deshi will heal much faster, now that he has such a _formidable_ nurse to care for him."

"Please… kill me now." Kamiya blinked. Somehow, the situation had just drifted from the romantic into the bizarre. And she didn't really know how.

… to be continued …

* * *

_Next chapter: __**Reconvalescence and regrouping: **__As Kenshin recuperates Saito discovers something interesting. Misao and Aoshi rethink their relationship and Megumi has a suggestion..._

* * *

_Soundtrack for chapter 16_

_Elvis Costello/ Anne-Sophie von Otter (singer): There is no wonder/ This house is empty now _

_Jim Brickman: By Chance (if my piano prof knew I play pieces like this one for fun he'd skin me alive- says they ruin my technique… which I don't care about since I don't want to go pro) _

_The Man with the Iron Mask soundtrack: Heart of the King _

_J. S. Bach: Air from Orchestra Suite No.3 _

_Ghost soundtrack: Unchained Melody _

_Richard Rogers: Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered_

* * *

_Hmmm… so much for my first tries at writing romance- guess it could have been better. But then, Néli always tells me to look on the bright side of things (apparently, she thinks I'm a pessimist- well, someone's gotta be one!), so I guess it could have been worse as well. Saz kept buggering me to include a 'naked-Kenshin'-scene, so you have her to thank (or blame) for this. Please keep in mind that my encounters with romance have been few, that I get most of my knowledge from books (I even read Erich Fromm's Die Kunst des Liebens The Art of Loving), and that a hyperactive eighteen year-old French girl kept giving me advice. _

**_grins ruefully_**_ Well, I have to admit that updates won't be as regular or frequent as I would like- uni is taking a lot of time (meaning I have to flee to self-imposed writer's block or, as my darling twin calls it, constipation of authorial thought process to get my work done), __especially until I will have my two bachelors in two years (after which I will concentrate solely on law), __and I am working on the finale of SL at the moment, so look out for that one coming! _

_I want to thank you all for your continued support during my hiatus- without some people asking me about the next chapter when I was all but ready to give up I would have never found the energy to write this. I love all your reviews, whether they be per e-mail or here on , and I hope to get to know what all of you thought of this chapter! I LOVE YOU!!!_

_Cya!!! _

_Chi_


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