#kamiya koshijiro

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm's Length Chapter 23

Blood, sweat, and tears - it's all down to this. On FF.net and AO3!

Chapter 23: Answer

Three days had passed since then. Koshijiro had overexerted himself and was confined to the clinic with Yahiko and Himura. Takani delivered thorough admonishment.

“Ken-san, you’re incredibly malnourished; you need to eat or I’ll start with a funnel! As for you, Yahiko, those dagger injuries are still at risk of infection and you have to let them fully heal. And I can’t believe I have to say this, but Kamiya-san! You nearly opened your shoulder wound. I swear, the rest of these idiots are rubbing off on you…”

“I regret nothing.” He resolutely answered and he meant it. “I would do it all over again, to protect Tokyo.”

Makimachi jumped in. “Megumi, everything’s fine now! Even better, we know where we’re going!” The island was to the south, roughly twenty kilometers east of the Izu archipelago. It was reportedly uninhabited, given its high cliffs, but it was on the supply route they previously discovered and a direct path to Shanghai could easily be mapped out.

Upon hearing this information, Koshijiro attempted to leave the bed. “We need to prepare for the trip. We have to set sail at any moment.” He felt a sharp pinch in his arm and looked downwards to find a needle in Takani’s hand.

“Not you. You have to rest.”

A numbness radiated from the injection site, spreading in a wave to his chest and head. “You gave me a sedative.” He said in disbelief, and he couldn’t prevent his eyelids from falling.

“Sorry, Kamiya-san, but we’ll take care of everything.” Those were the last words he heard, before he plunged into sleep.

And so, he was trapped in that little room. He was allowed visitors, and the young officers were among the first, relaying the news that the chief inspector would return to duty soon. The station was being urgently rebuilt…also, there were rumors of a medal, which Koshijiro winced at.

“It’s unnecessary. Please tell the chief I said that.” However, from their proud expressions, he doubted they’d try to dissuade any of the higher-ups. They left with such good cheer and he had to suppress a sigh. Well, the morale boost was promising.

Then, Tae and Tsubame arrived. They stopped by Koshijiro first, and he thanked the girl. “Tsubame, you did an excellent job of finding Himura-san.”

“I-it was nothing! I’m glad he heard me. Megumi-san said he’s asleep though.”

“He has to recover as much as he can. However, Yahiko should be awake in his room.”

She smiled, ducked her head, and headed next door. However, Tae lingered. “Thank you, Kamiya-san, for what you did. But are you alright? This week, so much has happened.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He hesitated before adding. “We’re going to depart very soon. It has to do with our attacker and I’m sorry, but I can’t say more. Not until we’re all home again.” He hoped she caught his choice in words, the use of ‘attacker’ instead of ‘murderer’, and his particular emphasis.

A long pause followed. Tae’s eyes flickered to the window and back to him. Slowly, she said. “I think I understand. You know, someone left red spider lilies on Kaoru’s gravesite. She might not like those, so I’ll clean them up.” She said this casually, but even he knew that the flowers represented the afterlife.

“Thank you. That would be appropriate.”

She gave a tight smile, and abruptly, tears sprung from her gaze. “If…if anyone is hurt when you return, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can. Please.”

It was an odd reaction from her, something he’d never seen before, but he readily agreed. “Of course, Sekihara-san.”

Hastily, she wiped her eyes and exhaled. “Well, I’ll check on Yahiko and Tsubame, though they’re probably behaving.” Her smile was a little wobbly but she was otherwise calm.

He didn’t have time to consider her behavior because Takani entered to examine him. She was acting as sole provider, having negotiated with Dr. Gensai to cover the clinic alone until they inevitably left Tokyo.

“How are the others?” He asked.

“Ken-san had soup for lunch but he can try solid food tonight. He’s sleeping restfully for once, so I’ve placed a sign on his door not to disturb him. Yahiko looks like he wants to practice kenjutsu, I’m keeping a close eye in case he sneaks out.” She proceeded with a rudimentary exam. “And there’s something else. I’ve made up my mind. After everyone recovers from this upcoming fight, I’m going to Aizu.”

“The Aizu police haven’t replied yet, but perhaps, they need another reminder.”

“It isn’t just that. I know I want to return there, to find my mother and brothers. You never gave up on Kaoru, and my family has no one else but me. I have lived long enough in self-pity; I’m ready to look for them.” She sounded certain of herself. “Besides, I can always return to visit, right?”

“Absolutely. You’re welcome at the dojo any time.”

“Thank you. Still, I think I will miss everyone.” A familiar sadness flickered across her face, and with that, she briskly walked away.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t the last of her because not two hours later, her voice echoed from the front. Koshijiro strained to listen, and he got up, peering into the hall. Hurried footsteps paced closer, two sets and one was certainly heavier.

“At this point, I can’t even be surprised. Sit down in that room, and I’ll bring my supplies.”

“Fine, fine.” But the low voice was laidback, and Koshijiro stared at Sagara, standing near an adjacent door and cradling his bandaged right hand. The young man broke into a wide grin. “Hey, old man! I made it in time.”

“Welcome back. You do seem a little worse for the wear.” Koshijiro wryly said, nodding at the injury.

“Got a story behind this, once we’re all together. I have you to thank for that, for pushing me in the right direction.” Then, Takani approached, a box of dressings tucked under her arm.

“You’re lucky you weren’t delayed; otherwise, we would’ve left you behind. Now, Ken-san is the only one who needs to be ready.”

“How is he?” His tone was guarded.

“Much better, because of Kamiya-san.”

“Gotta thank you twice then.” He gave a two-fingered salute. “And? What’s the plan?”

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be a docile patient, so Koshijiro joined them. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Yahiko barged in.

“I knew it! I knew I heard you, Sanosuke! Where the heck have you been?!”

“To my parents’ house in Nagano.” Ah, he did reunite with his family. “I left last night.”

“That’s far!” Takani exclaimed.

“Yeah, and I’m starving.”

With such prompting, they had a late lunch after Sagara’s superficial wounds were treated. The boys eschewed their table manners again, eating as if their bowls would be swiped underneath them. But the sight was reassuring, and at least, they refrained from belching, though it could’ve been due to the arrival of Shinomori. His posture was brimming with intent, in contrast to the slouching Makimachi who heaved a sigh as she propped her feet up. Then, she nearly jumped out of her skin, noticing Sagara.

“Wait, you’re here! That’s great, because everything’s all set! We’re going to leave tonight, after sunset.” It was much faster than anticipated, but a welcome update.

Shinomori supplied. “Yes, and our first stop is at Port Yokosuka, to convene with the Navy ships. After that, we will head on a direct path for the island while they flank and guarantee no one escapes. In the event that the main ship is slowed down, our group will take a rowboat and land as the initial offensive. Saito’s squad is currently loading the ship, so we should gather our things.” Meaningfully, his hands fell to his kodachi.

“I got my kunai!” Makimachi happily announced, followed by Takani’s nod.

“I’ll pack my medicine chest.”

Koshijiro then said. “Yahiko, we’ll have to return to the dojo and retrieve new shinai.”

“Sure! Two, right?”

“Three.” He clarified. “One for me, one for you, and one for Kaoru.” Yahiko broke into a knowing grin.

“Of course, she does need a weapon.”

“And all I need are my hands, so we gotta hurry!” Sagara bellowed. He pushed his chair back, stomping out of the little room. “Come on, Kenshin!” Before they could tell him to stop, he was already heaving the door aside. “Ken…shin?”

The crowding didn’t help Koshijiro’s perspective, and for a moment, an uneasy dread chilled his fingertips. But then, he caught sight of Himura. He was out of bed, standing by the open window, the white curtains fluttering. The sakabato was in his hands, and he was in the midst of sliding it back into its sheath. His expression was considering and purposeful, just as he turned, blinking at all of them. “This one is sorry to have kept you waiting.”

The others seemed stunned; he looked well-rested and fully recovered. Koshijiro stepped forward. “It’s alright. Do you believe in your new vow?”

“Yes.” Himura lifted the sakabato before him, in a show of resolve. “This one does.”

“Very good.” He smiled before pausing. “When you face Yukishiro again, there will be no room for doubt. Not again.”

“Understood.” Fire burned in his gaze. “Let’s go! To where Kaoru-dono is!”

And in a single voice, they assented. “Yes!”

***

The moon was rising over the dark undulating ocean, directly shining upon the smooth hull of their nondescript sailing vessel. Waves lapped against the dock, the repetitive sound echoing around them as they walked. Koshijiro maintained a guarded eye. The dojo had been left in Tokio’s capable hands, the boys napping while she resolutely locked the gate. Now, up ahead, he trusted that Saito’s squad and the crew were handling the matters of setting off. The cool salty air was tinged with tobacco, Saito stamping out a cigarette. At his side, there was a familiar figure who lifted a bandaged hand in greeting.

“Long time no see.” Sawagejo grinned. “So, this is it, huh?”

“You were discharged from the hospital?” Koshijiro asked. The man was further wrapped under his collar, hinting at healing burns, but he was standing on his own.

“Not that I wanted to stick around either, I was itching to get out.” He lowered his voice to a hiss. “One of you better land a good hit on Yukishiro for me! It’s the least he deserves for trying to kill me.”

Saito interjected, lip curling. “And as I told you, he’ll get what he deserves, one way or another.” He was still angry about the transfer to the Chinese government, stalking towards the boarding plank. The group followed suit, Sagara checking shoulders with Sawagejo.

The hammocks below deck were offered to them, but they all chose to stay above, watching in tense silence. But there were no interruptions. The boat began to drift, the lights of Tokyo bobbing and gradually shrinking into pinpricks, before the city disappeared entirely. They were safe for the time being, seemingly undetected. Nevertheless, any conversation was idle and short-lived.

It was a smooth trip to Port Yokosuka, and the trio of Naval ships were marked by their raised flags. The anchor had been dropped for mere minutes, when Hayashi came to greet them. He was accompanied by a taller young man with a serious clean-shaven face, and he headed straight for Koshijiro, firmly shaking hands.

“There’s that expression, the one you always had before a tournament. I have fifty men for this voyage, plenty of ammunition for our cannons, and Lieutenant Ehara is our best navigator.” He jabbed a thumb to the man, who immediately saluted. “Come aboard, I hear we have a tiger to hunt.”

Leaving the first boat in the harbor with the doubly paid crew, they were ushered onto the largest Navy ship, designed for traversing open sea. Hayashi issued orders, Ehara taking point at the helm and focusing on an array of maps. The stars shifted, the land retreated, and soon, they were surrounded by water at all sides. It was close to midnight and Yahiko tried in vain to hide his yawns.

“Just…a little longer…”

“I don’t think so. Off to bed with you.” Takani retorted, prodding his lower back. “And that goes for all of us.”

“In a minute.” Makimachi said, peering into the depths. Her new kunai flashed between her fingers, both wrists flexing in purposeful motion. Shinomori wordlessly loomed over her, though he dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Koshijiro’s vision was then abruptly blocked by Hayashi, who coaxed him to sit on a nearby crate. “I’m afraid I don’t have sake this time, but I feel you wouldn’t partake anyway.”

“No. I don’t think I can sleep well, but I’ll try to close my eyes.” He stared into the dark distance. Kaoru was waiting out there.

“If it was my child, I’d probably act the same as you. Perhaps even worse.” Hayashi’s expression was foreboding.

“How are they, and your wife?”

“She’s well, and I hate to leave her alone with the children, but she told me to go.” He smiled. “By the way, the twins are here and thank any god who listened, because they’re girls. Sanako and Sawako. Mirror images of each other. The boys love them to bits and they rarely cry.”

“Ah, you have your calm ones.” Koshijiro said.

“For now, at least.” He nodded across the deck, where Himura was standing in perfect silence. “Who’s the redhead?”

“Himura-san. He is…someone special to Kaoru.”

“Oh? And what do you think of him?”

“He’s a good man. I trust him.”

Those fox eyes narrowed in scrutiny, followed by a grin. “I see, he has your approval. Well then, I’ll leave you to rest until we get closer to the island. Good night!”

And now that his friend called it to attention, that was an unresolved point. Koshijiro laid in one of the bunk beds, sleeping in dreamless fits. Sagara snored above, masked by the rolling waves. The darkness was receding, and grabbing the two shinai he had taken on, Koshijiro decided it was finally time to wait on the deck.

But he wasn’t the only one. Himura was sitting in a secluded corner, almost hidden except for the breeze ruffling his hair. His gaze turned from the indigo sky to Koshijiro. “Kamiya-dono.”

“Himura-san.” He inclined his head. “I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”

“Not at all, this one was thinking it was time to stop resting.” He rose to his feet and joined Koshijiro. For a minute, they watched the sea, becoming blue-green with the impending dawn.

“There is something I wanted to discuss with you.” His pulse was kicking up, and he continued, trying to quell his nerves. “Sagara-san said something interesting when we were in Kyoto, that you thought you heard Kaoru’s voice while you were on your way to fight.”

“That did happen.” Himura acknowledged.

“At the time, I asked Kaoru how she felt about you and I was unsure of where you stood. I meant to ask you after you recovered, but it’s been tumultuous since then and I thought it was best to wait. Until now. Now, I believe it’s the right time.” He regarded Himura seriously. “Could you tell me, what are your feelings for my daughter?”

For a moment, he was quiet. “As you said, Kamiya-dono, it is best to start at the beginning. This one had been wandering for ten years before coming to Tokyo. On that evening, there was a young woman, calling out to Hitokiri Battousai and accusing him of dishonoring the name of Kamiya Kasshin. She attacked this one with her shinai.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.” He smiled at the memory. “She was bold and bright. She believed in her own conviction so strongly, in using the sword to protect people. This one was…intrigued. So, this one felt like staying, to see if that world she spoke of would become reality. Perhaps, since then, this one has watched her. Her lively spirit, her growing confidence, her infinite kindness. When she was captured by Jin-e and she broke free from his hold, the first thing she said was that she was alright. And at that time, this one thought he never wanted to look away from her.”

Oh. So, it was since then. “…Kaoru’s only had eyes for you as well, even after you had to leave.”

Himura cleared his throat. “To say goodbye to her was difficult enough; embracing her was only selfishness on this one’s part.” Wait, he had embraced her? But he was still talking before Koshijiro could request a pause. “And when she came to Kyoto, this one was angry and relieved, but now, this one realizes those weren’t half feelings. At the root, they were the same emotion. And along with it, there was fear. Of unworthiness for her, of rejection by her, but most of all, for her safety. This one swears it will not happen again. Never.”

“I believe you.” Koshijiro murmured.

Himura’s eyes lit, accepting, and he continued. “Until now, this one didn’t realize how starved he was, until meeting Kaoru-dono. Every day was full of warmth and kindness. Within this one’s heart,” His hand lifted to clasp his chest. “Kaoru-dono has ignited a flame, and that flame has only grown, with every person who has crossed our path. Kamiya-dono, this one would like to walk together with her, to return home, and to see her smile, always. This one loves Kaoru-dono.” He said it easily, with only the slightest hint of color on his face.

It definitely was infectious, because Koshijiro felt warm as he held up his hand to stop Himura from divulging further. “I appreciate your forthrightness. Kaoru will too, when she’s here and safe with us.”

“Yes.” He softly agreed.

Then, the ship abruptly quieted, no longer speeding towards the island but progressing with caution. Hayashi was directing the men with a hushed voice, and he headed for Koshijiro.

“We’ll reach the island in ninety minutes, so we’re changing pace. The winds are favorable, but this fog won’t last, so we’ll be visible sooner than we’d like.”

“Understood. Where do you want us to be?”

Following orders, the eight of them gathered at the bow. The two other ships drifted apart, preparing to flank. Then, on the horizon, a spot gradually grew larger, and dark green treetops encircled a portion that appeared to be a cove. Along the sheer cliffsides, the white shapes of seagulls rode the air currents. This was the island.

“The ship’s turning.” Saito noted, gaze narrowing. A second later, the motion became discernible; the vessel was pulling ninety degrees. “Why?”

The answer came from the young Lieutenant Ehara, putting away a telescope. “There are underwater mines ahead. It’s too dangerous for us to advance, so we’ll anchor and deploy the rowboats.”

“We’ll take the first one. Let’s go.”

Fortunately, they all fit, the oars seized by Sagara and Saito. As they were lowered into the ocean, Yahiko asked. “How are we going to get through?”

“Leave it to me!” Makimachi planted one knee down, unsheathing her daggers. “Like a kingfisher’s beak, I’ll pierce the mines and clear a path.”

“Thank you, Misao-dono.” Himura smiled. He was tucked into the rear of the boat, the sakabato’s hilt resting on his shoulder. Collectively, they had agreed to take care of every obstacle and opponent, so he would reserve his energy for fighting Yukishiro.

“You got it!” She began to mutter to herself. “Sixty-one and a half meters, thirty degrees to the right…thirty-two?”

“It is as we practiced.” Shinomori stood behind her. “Misao, your gaze should be on the changes in the waves.”

“R-right! So, it should be…twenty-nine point seven degrees!”

“Good.”

And with that approval, her dagger flew, disappearing into a foaming crest. A second later, a muffled blast followed, the explosion contained to a high spray of water. She tossed a pleased grin to them. “See that? Now, full speed ahead!”

Koshijiro’s heart jumped to his throat, with the rise and fall of the little boat. Salty droplets misted across his face, but his attention didn’t waver from the island. Successive splashes kicked up as Makimachi forged a straight line to the cove; if Yukishiro was maintaining any surveillance, they had to be visible. But there were no additional gunfire or cannon shots from the approaching trees, and the broad expanse of golden sand was empty. In the shallow water, the oars were no longer needed, and they trudged into the low surf.

They had landed.

***

The sunlight was warm, but it would soon become oppressive, and the dense foliage was even less promising. The twisting branches and evergreen needles were foreboding, though Shinomori shook his head. “No hidden men in the shadows. Still, they could be deeper within.”

“Should we charge in, or do we think more traps are waiting for us?” Sagara cast a glance to Himura.

“No, we will wait here. Enishi could have made our journey much more difficult; just like this one, he wants to settle this once and for all. It is likely he sees us now. However, if he has not come down in fifteen minutes, we will enter by force.”

Takani had brought her Western timepiece and she angled the glass surface to the rest of them. Still, ten minutes had never passed so slowly. The naval ships had anchored, following Makimachi’s tactic of disarming the mines, albeit with their own marksmen. The distant detonations faded in the background, as Saito snapped his head up.

“Get ready.”

Emerging from the trees, a small group stepped into the daylight. Four bulky men, with near identical features, surrounded a thin man, whose half-lidded eyes swept over them in cruel anticipation. They were all dressed in Chinese clothes, and they halted simultaneously.

“Ah, those are the people who attacked us! They chased us as soon as we were out of Kyoto!” Makimachi hissed.

“The man in the middle wasn’t one of them.” Shinomori clarified. “And he doesn’t seem to be Yukishiro.”

Saito ventured. “It’s likely this is Yukishiro’s second, Woo Heishin. From our sources, he’s less of a fighter, more of a manager. If he’s here, either he was abandoned by Yukishiro or sensed defeat and came out to surrender.”

The speculation wasn’t delivered subtly, and Woo obviously heard, grinding his teeth. His Japanese carried a slight accent. “How rude, as well as incorrect. The leader has thrown our organization to the sharks, so you can consider me as his replacement. As such, I’ve come to clean up loose ends.”

“So, it’s out of spite. You may think you’re clever, but you’re acting like a child, begging for attention.” Saito goaded.

“I don’t have the time to waste on you! Battousai, stop hiding behind your lackeys!”

“They are not; they are my friends.” Himura evenly replied. “And this one can say the same to you. This one only intends to fight Enishi.”

“And if you wish to replace Yukishiro as leader, you’ll have to accurately assess your opponents’ strength.” Shinomori intoned. “Otherwise, there is no hope for the organization.”

“Fine. If you want to die here, so be it!” He shouted, and the other men sprung into action. Koshijiro placed himself in front of Himura, but there was no need. The quartet spun in a tight circle, backs to each other, and gave ugly grins to their opponents. Saito, Sagara, Shinomori, and Yahiko. Woo taunted. “My bodyguards have mastered weapons to rival the gods. One kill for each of them! Battousai, you can watch the slaughter, while you cower behind the women and cripple.”

Takani pressed her lips together. “And you cower behind your guards. It’s no wonder then, that you’re number two.”

“I think we can take him down, right, Megumi?” Makimachi slammed her knuckles into her palm. “To the Oniwabanshuu commander and a trained female doctor, he’d be like a paper doll. And for insulting you, Kamiya-san, a nice dummy for your one-handed moves.”

However, Koshijiro was only partly listening. His priority lay beyond this beach, and with the enemy’s arrival, he noticed the path they used. It was barely visible amidst the sand and gnarled roots, but small pebbles were carefully spaced, delineating the borders. Around that tree, up the slope. He took three steps left, to gain better perspective. And there, hidden by the climbing branches, was a pointed roof of stone tiles. He frowned.

If that’s their base, they didn’t take the shortest distance. However, if Yukishiro has been here for some time, he had to create a faster route, in case of an urgent matter. Then, the exit point would have to be…

An opening, wide enough for a single person, stood out. Once Koshijiro noticed, he could not unsee it. But what if it was a trick or there was more danger awaiting? He vaguely registered the others discussing the weapons, how the four men had realized the capabilities of their allies. At Yahiko’s name, he turned his head. “Yahiko may not have fought against a staff user, but he’s proven that he can hold his own.” And if something happened, he would join.

As for the other three, he had faith in them, though they certainly didn’t need it. Saito’s opponent seemed to rely more on his own perception than the longsword in his grasp, and while he was able to inflict a gash upon the assistant chief, the latter’s ferocity assured victory. Truly, his belief in his own way of justice was his strength. Shinomori’s was an interesting challenge, copying the dual sword attacks. Nevertheless, imitations could never withstand centuries of Oniwaban tradition, and Shinomori’s unexpected use of close combat maneuvers sealed the mimic’s loss. Meanwhile, punches were dealt back and forth between Sagara and the third guard, blood splattering onto the sand. But the final blow was Sagara’s, with both hands, left over right. A new modification, which worked perfectly. And Woo was nervously fidgeting.

Yahiko was the last one remaining, although it was apparent why. The staff wasn’t its true form, as it separated into six links. It whipped towards Yahiko, striking him in the stomach and forcing him to stagger back. He was trying Hadome but it would not work…in its usual approach.

“Yahiko, remember: the intention of the succession technique!” Koshijiro exclaimed.

“…yeah! And don’t worry, that was my last mistake. For Kamiya Kasshin, and Kaoru, I’ll win!” He straightened and adjusted his stance. Neutral, just as Kaoru had in the Maekawa dojo in what felt like a lifetime ago. And he waited for the right moment. The hilt rose to meet the end joint, locking the weapon in place as a staff. It took immense effort, his arms trembling, but Yahiko was hanging on. He had caught the mace.

“That hint was excellent, Kamiya-dono.” Himura remarked. “Yahiko realized that he had to hold the mace’s tip in place. Now, his enemy can neither attack nor withdraw, without becoming vulnerable. Understanding the purpose of the succession technique was key…and he learned from you, who demonstrated Hizadome to us.”

“Yes. I’m glad.” He exhaled. He watched with pride as the boy advanced, snapping the wooden links with force.

With the four guards incapacitated, Woo spun around, attempting to run for the safety of the trees. However, he was stopped by a fist emerging from the shade. Yukishiro Enishi had reappeared, a displeased look on his face. But…there was another silhouette, at the point of the hidden route.

Blood pulsed in Koshijiro’s ears. His daughter was frowning, slipping off her geta. Had she snuck away from Yukishiro? He hadn’t noticed, focused on beating his former partner into submission. Koshijiro seized his opportunity. He tossed one shinai into the woods, the thud timed with Woo’s body crumpling. He didn’t dare look to confirm, he could only desperately hope she retrieved her weapon. Most of the others were turned away, demanding Kaoru’s return. Himura was unaffected by his brother-in-law’s irate mood, and his gaze fixed upon Koshijiro. He stared a moment too long, through Koshijiro and swiftly aside. He dipped his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then, he walked forward.

“Enishi. Let this be over. If you still wish to fight this one, we may continue.”

But he didn’t touch the bait. “Not yet. First, someone has to witness your final breath.” And he whipped around.

Kaoru was closer, acting as if she was lagging behind and became tangled in the underbrush. Neither the shinai nor her shoeless feet were visible. “It’s because you walk too fast! And now, I’m stuck-”

“Forget it. Stay there; if you take one step past the treeline, I’ll kill you.” Yukishiro threatened.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she bent at the waist. However, she relaxed when Himura spoke up.

“It’s alright, Kaoru-dono.” He smiled reassuringly. “Please, wait for this one. It is this one’s battle to finish, and it will be over soon.”

“…okay. I believe in you.” A breeze caressed her hair, and her lips trembled. Her hands wrapped around herself, as if to hold back from running over. “Everyone…don’t worry about me!”

Koshijiro definitely couldn’t promise that much. It was agony, burning under the hot sun with her presence only a few strides away. Instead, he had to watch Himura silently draw the sakabato. Yukishiro unsheathed his tachi, the golden tassels falling. And the memory of that hellish night surfaced in his mind. After he headbutted Yukishiro, the man never attacked him again; his injuries had only been from Gein’s shadow weapons. Why? Yukishiro was physically robust, and a young man like him could have recovered easily…

While the four guards stumbled to the unconscious Woo and Takani summoned their friends for triage, Koshijiro turned to Himura. “Yukishiro’s senses.” He voiced the thought aloud. “Somehow, when I struck his head with mine in the dojo, it was a serious blow. Perhaps, he didn’t attack afterwards because he wasn’t confident in his perception. That is all I have to offer, unfortunately.”

“It is more than enough, Kamiya-dono. Thank you.” Himura regarded Yukishiro, silently assessing. Then, with a steady breath, he continued on.

The rhythmic crash of waves was uncomfortably loud, as the men faced each other. Then, Yukishiro dove into a crouch, launching into a recognizable attack. Himura dodged, the tachi slicing into the tree behind, and he leapt, firing off the rapid nine strikes. Metal collided against metal; they both flew back, the sand whirling. Both had used their signature moves at the start, and yet, it was another draw.

“Doesn’t Enishi look faster than before?” Takani whispered.

“He really wants to kill Kenshin now. That has to be the difference.” Sagara replied in kind. “But Kenshin’s willpower is stronger too.”

At this, Koshijiro glanced at his daughter. She was worriedly staring at Himura, obviously wondering if he had found his answer. Yes, he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. Yukishiro had already risen to his feet, as had Himura.

The white-haired man sneered. “Your speed is slightly greater than mine, and my strength is slightly greater than yours. Our skills are equal, but let’s see how you do with height.”

And then, they were airborne. Himura was markedly higher, yet Yukishiro made a surprising double jump. The tachi cut Himura’s shoulder, blood scattering as he landed first. That placed him in perfect position for an upward attack, which struck true to Yukishiro’s midsection. However, he wasn’t fazed, and in the next instant, they were rushing each other on the sand. The sakabato thrust forward, but Yukishiro’s arm flew, and Himura was knocked against a tree.

“Are you giving up already? Get up!” Yukishiro roared.

“…This one does not need you to say that. This one understands the answer to atone for everything, so there will be no surrender.”

“No, accept your punishment!” His sword swung heavily, and Himura avoided a critical blow, rolling out of the way. “Murder can only be repaid with death! You know deep down, that there are two options. Be slowly killed by me, or as a good samurai does immediately, kill yourself.”

The words were brimming with malice, the darkest desire of Yukishiro’s warped soul. And yet, Himura staggered to his feet.

“Still, you’re not giving up. Are you that afraid of dying?!”

“No, death does not frighten this one. But you are wrong, Enishi.” Himura’s expression was somber. “From the pit of despair, this one had to think about many things. Life, death, crime, punishment…and as this one was guided through reflection, there is a single truth that has been demonstrated, again and again. To protect everyone in this one’s path, to help those who are suffering…to see smiling faces. Yes, it is why this one became a hitokiri, and the weight of the victims’ deaths is this one’s sin to bear. But this one will never cease to bring happiness, to absolutely fight for a better world.” He lifted his sakabato, and despite his injuries, he possessed the aura of a dragon. “With ‘sword’ and ‘heart’, this one will persevere! That is this one’s reason, the vow to live on!”

A genuine and valiant answer, that could only have been stated by Himura. Koshijiro couldn’t suppress a smile. Nearby, Takani wiped her eyes, and Saito gave a grunt of approval.

“Just like Kenshin.” Sagara drawled, while Shinomori muttered.

“In some ways, it may be harsher than death.” That earned a good-natured protest from Makimachi.

“But he can do it!”

“Definitely!” Yahiko agreed, jumping from one foot to the other.

And Kaoru was gazing at Himura with the same light in her eyes, as she did at his bedside in Kyoto. Deep, unwavering love.

The moment was shattered by Yukishiro. “Do you think that will make my sister forgive you?”

“This one is not sure, but while thinking of the words, she finally smiled in return. Enishi…is she smiling for you now?”

He was taken aback at the question. It was fleeting, almost obscured by the glasses, but for a fraction, the man was gone and an apprehensive boy lurched. Then, Yukishiro snapped. His teeth ground together, his voice building to a scream. “Die, die, die! I’ll slam you down into hell!” The cords of his body drew taut, the veins bulging…but they didn’t appear normal, strangely colorless. And he seemed to be much faster, as he veered around Himura, blade aimed for the throat. Himura was forced to parry with the hilt, sweat beading on his scarred cheek.

“Those have to be nerves.” Takani slowly said, eyes wide. “I can’t think of another explanation.”

“But how can they be so huge?” Sagara was in disbelief.

Yahiko wondered. “Was he training to the limit, to increase his reaction time?”

Saito spoke around his cigarette, the smoke enveloping his features. “That wouldn’t be an easy task, and not to the extent they could become that prominent.”

“A biological abnormality, perhaps.” Shinomori suggested. “Something he was born with.”

The discussion didn’t escape Yukishiro. “Not at all. This was given to me by my beloved sister. Every day without her, my mind remained active, fueling my nerves. My frenzied nerves! After fifteen years-ugh!” He was abruptly cut off…by Himura lightly bumping his head against Yukishiro’s chin.

He fell for the same move twice! Koshijiro tried very hard not to laugh. And…good for Himura-san.

Himura was able to break free, disengaging, and Yukishiro was angrier than ever. He took off into a high jump, intent on forcing Himura in another midair battle. However, he didn’t, instead sprinting and drawing the sakabato in an unusually narrow arc. His forearm was lightly grazed, as Yukishiro was inevitably pulled by gravity, and he sheathed the reverse blade forcefully.

“Ouch!” Makimachi winced. “Sorry, that was a super high-pitched noise.” Shinomori also frowned, tilting his head.

And it affected Yukishiro, who remained curled on the crimson-tinted beach. Blood trickled out of his ear, and he was struggling to regain his bearings. “What…what did you do?”

“When the hilt contacts the sheath, it produces a sonic howl to stun the eardrum.” Himura replied. “In your case, it affected you much more, traveling through your sensitive nerves.”

Koshijiro quickly understood. “The sheathing was to target Yukishiro’s equilibrium.”

“Exactly!” Takani murmured. “That sound would have reached his inner ear, and he’s highly vulnerable to any kind of stimulus.” It was why a mild tap was an excellent distraction and a headbutt was incapacitating.

“He sacrificed defensive protection.” Sagara folded his arms. “So, Kenshin has a strong chance of defeating him with Hiten Mitsurugi.”

The balance was now in Himura’s favor, and he gently said. “You can barely stand, Enishi.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Suddenly, his fist smashed his ear. He writhed in severe pain, his entire body convulsing as he brought the tachi down. In a miss. He was losing control. “So what? I don’t need balance or hearing to kill you! I don’t need anything, other than the power to kill you! You already took the only thing I ever wanted to protect!” It happened again, except the boy wasn’t apprehensive. He was lost, and completely alone. The wailing of the seagulls eerily drifted overhead, as the group collectively stared at him.

Himura closed his eyes in acknowledgement, then opened them again. “Yes, that is true. It cannot be undone. So, this one will face you head on.” He didn’t touch Yukishiro, patiently waiting for him to get up.

This time, the atmosphere was of finality. Half of Yukishiro’s face was smeared with blood, which he ignored as he asked. “You said my sister smiled at you. What about now?”

“No, that was the last time. This one no longer sees her.” He relayed this without sadness or frustration, despite Yukishiro’s blatant surprise. “Not even her shadow or her voice remain, but that is alright. For this one’s friends, and the most important person, this one can take a firm step forward.”

Yukishiro’s grip tightened on his weapon. “You’re lying. She’ll smile when you’re dead. Let’s go!”

And Himura stepped with his left foot. He soared, accelerating at a speed they’d never witnessed before. Koshijiro caught his expression, free of doubt and singularly focused on what was ahead. A flawless execution of Hiten Mitsurugi’s succession technique. In Himura’s proximity, Yukishiro was unable to resist the amount of force left in his wake, and his center was shifted. His eyes were bulging in anguish. Then, the blow was delivered. The tachi snapped, golden tassels flying, and Yukishiro’s arm crunched, bending at an unnatural angle. Slivered cracks crept into the lenses of his glasses.

Himura landed, standing upright with the remaining energy he had. He managed to speak between heavy breaths. “Not…yet…”

Indeed, Yukishiro hadn’t fallen yet. The loss of his weapon didn’t dissuade him. He clutched his broken arm, seething. “Battousai!”

And then, a shot fired. Immediately, they all ducked. Woo was awake, and twin pistols were in his quivering hands. Himura stumbled, his sleeve darkening. It didn’t appear he was hit in a vital spot, but there was no cover on the open beach. Woo aimed squarely at him, finger on the trigger.

“No!” Kaoru’s voice rang out, as she darted to the man. Then, her arms lifted-

Crack!

Woo stumbled backwards, stunned. Kaoru struck again, her shinai colliding with his head. Neither of them was at full strength, but she had the advantage of surprise. Her next attack was to disarm him, and his pistol fell out of his grip. Her third attack, a thrust to his solar plexus, caused him to crumple onto the sand. A warm wind blew through as she retreated towards Himura, glancing back at the rest of them.

“Is everyone okay?”

Someone shouted, perhaps multiple voices. Woo was scrambling up again, but Kaoru only took a few steps towards him, before he was bowled over. White hair glinted in the sunlight, as Yukishiro thrashed his own second in command. Woo’s features became a gory mess, and a sickly feeling rose in Koshijiro, mixed with the memories of dead men.

A hand blocked Yukishiro’s fist, his jaw slackening. Himura gasped for air, though he would not budge. “You will kill this man, Enishi. No more. Whoever it may be, as long as they are within this one’s sight, no one will die! And if you continue, you will lose Tomoe’s smile forever.” His words finally reached Yukishiro, and the man relented, expression blank. Himura walked past him, a sentence that was nearly lost in the sound of the tide. “Thank you for protecting Kaoru-dono.”

Then, Yukishiro dropped to his knees. “No…! The one I wanted to protect was…the one I really wanted…” The boy was weeping, fifteen years’ worth of sorrow. “Curse you. Curse you!”

By now, Hayashi and his sailors had arrived in their rowboats. The lackeys were rounded up, hands and legs manacled. As for Yukishiro himself, he was surrounded by a cluster of uniforms, doubly secured. A sad and pitiful man, but a criminal who needed to pay for what he’d done.

And Koshijiro breathed. He turned to see Himura smiling, tripping on his own toes. Kaoru was there to catch him, and for a few seconds, they held each other. It was very low, but Himura was saying something? Kaoru drew back a little, startled yet not upset. His hands remained on her waist.

…That amount of time was acceptable. Koshijiro had to clear his throat. “Kaoru.”

“…Otou-san!” She cried and threw her arms around him. He held on tight, throat burning as his chin rested on the top of her head. Her scent was unfamiliar and she felt thinner, but she was alive.

“Are you alright, Kaoru?”

“I’m fine.” Her reply was choked. “A little hungry, but I’m so happy to see you. Otou-san?” She looked at him and tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed. “You’re crying?”

He had been maintaining a steady veneer of composure, ever since they discovered the body was a fake. Now, that mask had crumbled and he couldn’t suppress himself any longer. His blurry vision obscured everything, and he covered his face with his hand. A deep sob escaped through his clenched teeth.

Kaoru rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay. Otou-san, it’s okay.”

“Kaooruuu!” Yahiko’s voice grew louder in intensity as he approached and he tackled them, wailing. “We’re here! We made it!” And then, he dissolved into crying too.

Himura returned, clasping the back of Yahiko’s head as the boy drew him in. “Thank you.”

Then, Makimachi wriggled her way through, declaring. “See? We won! Oh, I’m so happy…” Shinomori was right behind her, with a flicker of a smile.

“We’re such wrecks.” Takani hiccupped, as she entered the hug too.

A heavy palm patted between Koshijiro’s shoulder blades. “Come on, old man. We gotta be tough.” But Sagara was sniffling, and the aroma of tobacco smoke wasn’t far.

Finally, Koshijiro mustered the energy to regain his voice. Blinking the blurriness away, he said to his daughter. “Let’s get you home.”

It was a daze, transporting off the island. Kaoru was tucked between Koshijiro and Himura, and remained so, all the way to the main ship. A resounding cheer went up as she boarded, the mission accomplished. Takani was adamant on using a room below deck, to assess their injuries.

“Really, I’m okay.” Kaoru insisted once they filed into the cramped room. “I cooked for myself using their limited supplies, and that’s nothing new.”

Takani scrutinized her. “What are those marks on your neck?” Small, red-violet bruises encircled her throat. They were about the same size as a person’s fingertips.

Her hand reached up to them, her face suddenly stricken. “Oh. Um, while I was in the mansion, I thought I could take Enishi hostage and try to escape. But he grabbed me and tried to strangle me. He didn’t though, he can’t kill any woman around my age because of Tomoe-san’s memory. Other than that, he didn’t touch me.” She hastily added.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive! I was mostly confined to a little room, I had to figure out the different paths to the beach. I still think I could’ve taken the weekly supply ship if I made it out, but you all beat its arrival. Enishi claimed there wasn’t a ransom; still, I don’t know why else he would’ve kidnapped me.”

Yahiko blurted the truth. “We thought you were dead.”

“Dead?” Kaoru repeated, and her confusion was apparent as she looked at their faces. “But…why would you think that? I’m here.”

“There was a body.” Takani answered. “A girl, similar in age, who was made to resemble you. With a…” Her voice broke as she recovered. “With a katana through the heart and a bloody cross on one cheek.”

Kaoru recoiled. “You…you all saw? You must have…oh. And then…” She trailed off, at a loss for words. Long minutes passed. “Did she die because of me?”

“We don’t know that.” Koshijiro interjected. “And it’s not your fault. None of it is. The only ones to blame are those vile men.”

“They made you think I was dead.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. She turned to Himura, taking his hand. “Kenshin, you thought…”

“Yes. This one was unable to protect you and despaired. Kamiya-dono guided this one, through the memories we’ve made in Tokyo and Kyoto and back.” He smiled at Koshijiro.

Awkwardly, he said. “It felt like a purifying rite, but I’m glad it led you to your reasoning and to your victory.” Then, he knelt and pressed his forehead to the creaking boards. “Thank you, Himura-san. I can’t thank you enough for saving my daughter.”

“Please, Kamiya-dono, you don’t have to perform that bow!”

“Thank you, Yahiko, Sagara-san, and Takani-san. Thank you, Makimachi-san, Shinomori-san, and Assistant Chief Inspector.”

Kaoru spoke up, her voice suddenly close. “Everyone, thank you for rescuing me. I’ll never forget how hard you worked.” And she expressed the same depth of gratitude, joining Koshijiro.

Immediately, he lifted his head. “No, Kaoru, get off the floor.”

“You did first, so I will once you’re done!”

“…You’re being stubborn.”

“Geez, I wonder where I get it from!” And then, the whole room was laughing. Their wounds were tended to, covered in salve and bandages; rations and canteens were passed around. The three Naval ships cut across the blue ocean, sparkling under billowing white clouds. They were headed home. At long last, the nightmare had ended.

#rurouni kenshin #kenkao #at arm's length #posting before i go on vacation :D

[kiechanhime]

So Kaoru's father is alive!!!

Hmm. I'm thinking he's having a head trauma like amnesia due to the battle in seinan, that's why he doesn't return to her daughter in Tokyo.

But my main concern here.. this could mean that Kenshin finally meets his father-in-law!!! HOW WOULD THIS TWO GO ALONG?

Im sure Kenji can easily win his Grandapa's heart, how could anyone resist that cuteness Kenji possess! Im in love with him already!! I'm more worried on Kenshin 😅. Imagine what had happen for the last six years of Koshijiro's absence, learning his daughter, his precious little girl married to the legendary assassin!!?!

How would Kaoru handle this? Ooh my gosh!!! I wanna read that!!!

#kamiya koshijiro #himura kenshin #meet up #hemasterandtheformerassassin

[sirenalpha]

Don’t you think that Kaoru with her status as Dojo Heir could end with someone older and worse than Kenshin?? She was kinda lucky her father did not set her to marry some old man ‘who would run the dojo properly’. (Kamiya Koshijiro is a good father for her) I mean, just put the fucking author aside, Kenshin and Kaoru relationship far from pedo—. It was in late eighteen century, Kaoru is in marriageable age, that’s one of reason Yahiko keep teasing her as old hag. And although their relationships were not smoothly writen (it’s a shonen manga afterall) their love grew naturally far from Kenshin creepily grooming her.

So because things could be worse for Kaoru, Kenshin is acceptable?

I'm genuinely not trying to be mean

I have even made this point in my own RK fanfiction that Kaoru's potential marriage could have been much worse, Koshijiro was an exceptionally good father in general and especially for the time period not forcing another swordsman his own age on her for example

I've done research for this time period not extensive but just to try and see if it was even legal for Kaoru to own the property and I didn't get anything super helpful beyond obviously all of her male relatives had to be dead or nonexistent for her to own that land

and I cannot "just put the fucking author aside" I literally put that at the top of my original post about Kaoru

Rurouni Kenshin is a work of art written by a man who is a pedophile in the 1990s and convicted and fined for it in the 2010s and not a documentary on 1870s Japan

I am performing literary criticism of it

I have been pointing out the ways in which their love in fact did NOT grow naturally

there was a ton of pressure on Watsuki to have the manga turn out a certain way and he needed someone to act as love interest to make the Jinchuu Arc work for Kenshin's character arc so he forced Kaoru into that position because she was the closest fitting existing character

the reality is Kenshin has more in common with Koshijiro and that makes it pedophilic due to the power imbalance between them including the fact that Kaoru is 17

Kaoru is literally not in the same stage of life as Kenshin and frequently shown as dangerously naive which Kenshin could have taken advantage of (and maybe arguably does) especially given that he is vastly superior in strength and skill to her which is a thing I have yet to address as I know it makes people uncomfortable to bring up, but it's accurate

and frankly I don't care if it's a shonen manga, the ability to write well is not excluded because of its genre and intended audience, if Watsuki was capable of pushing the boundaries of what shonen manga covers such as having an older protagonist then he could have likewise put effort into the romance especially as it's such a large facet of the Jinchuu arc and Kenshin's character development, his BSOD over Kaoru's death is the climax of his character arc and intrinsically tied to the themes of the series

that's kind of a big thing to fuck up because the romance is gross and unbelievable due to being forced and poorly written

you shouldn't settle for "it could have been worse"

not for a fucking pedophile

and if you care that much about historical accuracy despite all the insane bullshit in the series like giant human flesh puppets or venom expys, famous historical swordswomen from Japan including the one Kaoru is supposedly based on either die in battle or never marry and Kenshin would have been executed like his historical inspiration

#asks #rurouni kenshin #anti kenkao

[eternal-echoes]

Some predictions for the Hokkaido arc:

- Maybe Koshijiro either joined the Kenkaku Heiki or he’s on the run from them. The former sounds unlikely since the sword style he developed is for protecting people but you never know from the first glance of a person the kind of thinking that goes on in their head. But it is more likely that he’s on the run from them probably because the Kenkaku Heiki tried to recruit him since he’s a swordsman but since he refused, they’re now trying to kill him.

- Or maybe the Kenkaku Heiki is still trying to recruit him and hired the Yaminobu to look for him.

- Maybe Kenshin will be accidentally fighting Koshijiro. But Koshijiro has  grown a huge beard like Sano was as a result from hiding so he didn’t recognize him right away from the photograph. When he does, it’s because Koshijiro-dono exclaims, “Kamiya Kasshin-ryu!”

- Maybe Kaoru and Kenji will be under attack by Kenkaku Heiki and Koshijiro will rescue them.

- I’m also predicting and hoping Seijuro Hiko shows up to protect Kaoru and Kenji in a grand entrance again when he protected Yahiko. I’m guessing that he’ll end up in Hokkaido because as the master of Hiten MItsurugi ryu with the philosophy of protecting people from the times of pain, he got a hold of the information about the Kenkaku Heiki so he’s been on the hunt after them as well.

-I’ve been thinking about how Kenshin will react when he finds out how Asahi was part of the Yaminobu group. I have a feeling it will be in an dangerous and urgent situation, fighting Sako again where Sako reveals that they were part of the Yaminobu and they want to take Asahi back and Asahi is right there where Kenshin can see her and easily strike her but he tells Ashitarou and Aran to run and take Asahi to a safe space away from Sako since Asahi doesn’t want to be part of Yaminobu anymore.

-After Kenshin fights Sako, Asahi finally confides to Kaoru about her identity but she doesn’t know anything about Koshijiro because she didn’t accept that mission. But Asahi tells more about the Yaminobu which helps Kenshin piece together more clues that he already has.

- I do think that they’ll also going to look for Aran’s father. Or maybe run into him at least. Aran must have some reason for wanting to go to America as a stowaway.

#rurouni kenshin #samurai x #hokkaido arc

[indigcribbcn-blog]

"I guess if true love was easy, we'd all have it"

She tapped her index finger lightly on her chin for a moment as she considered that. The kenjutsu instructor was dressed more properly, in a kimono this time, rather than her training gear. The outer robe looked to be well-cared-for, though closer examination would reveal some wear and mending. However, the yellow and orange of the fabric was fittingly bright and cheery to go with the girl’s disposition.

A hum escaped her before she glanced at the older woman with a smile. “It’s true, I suppose... My parents were a love-match, I’m told, though...”

The girl’s expression was thoughtful for a moment as she remembered something she’d been told. That she should be grateful for her name, because Kamiya Koshijiro was lucky that he’d been adopted by his teacher,  who had been more understanding of the man’s situation than his family had been.

#headcanon territory here #but there must be some reason why nobody of blood relation had followed up on the girl all by her lonesome #bluewiggly

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm's Length Chapter 22

Real men talk about their feelings. This took some time because I wanted to get the dialogue right, and I'm happy with it! FF.net, AO3

Chapter 22: To Stand Again

“Hadome!” The outcry was stopped short, as Yahiko buckled under the offensive strike, forced to retreat. “Tch, damn!”

“Language.” Koshijiro gently admonished. He pressed the shinai further, glancing across the boy’s shoulder. “This attempt was better, but what went wrong this time?”

“I didn’t have enough support for my hands. It’s my core, isn’t it?”

“Yes, correct. You can increase your exercises by twenty repetitions.”

“Fifty more!” He was certainly ambitious.

“As long as you don’t injure yourself.”

“Fine. I’m still not there yet.”

“But in just one hour, your reaction time has cut in half. Keep practicing after you come back.” The boy had offered to help Tae and Tsubame, with purchasing supplies. From what he said, Tae had turned to work, setting up in a temporary location while paying for the Akabeko’s rebuilding.

They tidied up the dojo, before sitting outside to cool off. Yahiko gulped his barley tea, and in that quiet moment, he spoke unprompted. “I get it now.”

“Hm?”

“Well…I’ve been taught by Kaoru, then Kenshin, and now you. And I get the differences.” He seemed slightly embarrassed but explained. “You ask me what I want to accomplish first, and if I need to do something else instead. During practice, you ask me where the issue is, and once I figure it out, we fix it. Kaoru does that too, she leads me to the goal and she encourages me a lot. Kenshin is the quietest, but he always gets to the point and it feels rewarding when he approves. Everyone teaches differently.”

“That’s right, and you’ll find your own way of instruction, when the time comes. Emulate what you admire, and don’t be afraid to adjust your methods. Teaching is a matter of approach.”

“And it depends on the student too.”

“Indeed. You have to know what works for the student and what doesn’t.”

“So, could you tell what works for me?”

Koshijiro paused, considering. “Your judgment already surpasses older boys, because you’ve seen battles of high intensity and caliber. With such a quick grasp, you understand how to improve, and I’m glad Kaoru’s given you the opportunity to reflect and analyze. You’ve spent a relatively short time in the dojo, so you respond well to clear instructions. And of course, well-deserved praise. I think it is the right balance.”

Yahiko smiled. “Was that how you taught Kaoru?”

“I would say so. She appreciated the history of kenjutsu, and I would weave it into teaching points. Kaoru has an excellent intuition and unlike most, she could give it the right words. Even when she was a little girl, she would tell me what she wanted to focus on in practice.” He thought of her smaller form, cheeks puffed out as she declared her newest aspiration. The memory was sweet, ruined by the present anxiety, a dark cloud on the horizon.

The conversation had to end there, given the time. However, Yahiko stalled at the gate. “Kamiya-san? Is there anything else I can do here?”

“No, it’s alright. You can go into town. Takani-san must have finished her examination, and I’ll take over in her stead.”

“Misao and Aoshi are still out, huh? How long does it take to plan a boat trip anyway?”

Actually, Makimachi had confided that they were going to train. She was looking particularly enthusiastic, while Shinomori was stoic as ever. “They’re doing a thorough job, and we’ll trust in them. I’ll see you later, Yahiko.” With one last wave to each other, Koshijiro closed the gate.

He went to Himura’s door, and Takani quickly emerged. The dark circles under her eyes were fainter, but she was still taut as a bowstring. “I’m running late!” The number of clinic patients had increased, not just from the attacks, but also the change in weather.

“Dr. Gensai will understand.”

“I’ve always been punctual, it’ll hurt my pride otherwise. Now, there’s tea and broth that can be reheated for Ken-san if he feels like drinking again. It’ll sustain him but if he doesn’t eat, I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.” She frowned.

“As always, thank you for your hard work.”

“I’ll be back in the afternoon.” With that brisk promise, she was off.

And Koshijiro entered Himura’s room.

His position had not changed: sitting against the wall, the chained reverse blade clutched tightly in his hands. Koshijiro sat across from him, watching for any movement. Again, his eyes were resigned and lifeless.

Koshijiro cleared his throat. “The weather is nice today. If you don’t mind, I’ll open the window.” The fresh air swept in, and he realized how stagnant it had been in this room. But if he was going to talk to Himura, they could not be in darkness.

He glanced at the other man, who had turned his face away from the sunshine pouring in. The abundance of red hair had fallen like a curtain.

“I will close it afterwards, but if you are cold, please let me know.” He didn’t expect a response, but then, a single word floated up.

“Why?”

“You asked me that last time, but I’m not sure how to answer. Are you able to tell me more?” Koshijiro kept his voice low, neutral, without judgment.

An exhale. “Why are you not angry with this one?”

“Angry?” He was genuinely surprised. “No, Himura-san, not at all. You fought hard to protect Kaoru.”

“Not enough. This one couldn’t.” Himura retreated further, curling into a ball.

Koshijiro remained quiet for a few moments before continuing. “And you are lost within yourself.”

Chain links rattled and the red curtain shifted. Himura was looking right at him, in startled affirmation.

He pressed on. “You are a swordsman, defined by your abilities and successes. That was unfortunately amplified by the war; your superiors in the Ishin Shishi were enraptured by your skills, at the cost of overlooking the man behind them. But I’m not going to analyze the fight. I am here to find you.”

Himura took a shaky breath, blinking against the light. “As Hitokiri Battousai, this one committed countless murders. This one has tried to atone, and it is not enough. Whatever is left of this one is unworthy.”

“That is not true.” Koshijiro severely said, but Himura’s gaze had already drifted into vacancy. His sense of shame ran deep, entangled in his spirit. In this precarious state, it was too dangerous to push him.

It was excruciatingly silent until Makimachi and Shinomori returned. He let them take over, while he headed into town. He initially intended to speak to Saito, but he was informed by the front that the man was caught in administrative meetings for the day, saddled with acting chief inspector responsibilities.

He walked towards the office, expecting a mountain of paperwork on his desk. However, when he entered the room, his space was free of clutter. Instead, the rookies were barely visible under a heavier than usual workload. Shinichi spotted him first, dropping his pen as he hastily stood. The others followed suit, greeting in a staggered chorus.

“Officer Kamiya!”

“Hello, everyone.”

“You’re not back yet, are you?”

“It’s too soon!”

He hesitated. “I was…running an errand. What have you been assigned?” He approached the nearest desk and read his name on the first stack. “These are mine?”

“We asked for them!”

“You don’t have to worry at all, alright?”

“Take it easy, Officer Kamiya!”

Their kindness touched him. “Thank you. I hope not to inconvenience you for much longer.” When this was over, he would have to treat them heartily.

And at the last minute, he decided to carry out another task. Gritting his teeth, Koshijiro began writing on a fresh sheet of paper. He certainly was not begging Hiko, and he doubted he’d even receive an answer. It was only a brief message that Himura was injured, which was the truth. But after the envelope slipped into the mailbox, he felt a twinge of uncertainty.

Most likely, the letter will not be read in time.

That evening, Himura did finish a bowl of broth, which was a small victory. Despite his anguish, he wasn’t actively giving up. They held onto that knowledge, as they reviewed the plan just outside his room. Takani was already prepared, her stock of medical supplies fully replenished. Meanwhile, Shinomori and Makimachi provided their updates.

From her pocket, the Oniwaban leader brought out a list with a flourish. “Here we go! This is the remainder of our inventory, including fuel and food rations. Everything’s been tucked away in the Heishin Products Company basement.”

“Wasn’t it there to begin with?” Yahiko pointed out.

“Well, the police confiscated most of the goods but we deserve some compensation, right? And I’m still waiting for my new kunai, Jiiya’s sending them from Kyoto. They’re a different alloy, so they’ll pierce better…” She trailed off. “Oh, sorry! Basically, we’re covered as soon as we have a destination!”

Shinomori shook his head. “And we have not determined that yet.”

It was to be expected, it had only been a day since they obtained their lead. But Koshijiro was impatient. He let out a breath. “Then, I will have to ask the assistant chief inspector.”

The timing couldn’t have been better, because there was a call from outside. “It’s Saito. Open up.”

Takani volunteered, though she returned with an additional guest in tow. She seemed much more at ease around the presence of Tokio. “Thank you for the mochi, we’ll enjoy them. There’s leftover tea for both of you.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, but we won’t be long.” Tokio answered, as Saito grunted and took a seat in their circle. His gaze flickered to the closed door but he didn’t acknowledge it otherwise.

“I’ll make this quick. First, we’ve narrowed our search to the southern waters. There are a few small islands, mainly uninhabited, that look promising. We will continue to gather intel.”

“Let us help you.” Shinomori uttered, and Makimachi jumped in as well.

“Please! Espionage and subterfuge are our specialties.”

“Give us the morning, to tie up any loose ends. Then, you can offer your services.” He bluntly said, turning once more to Koshijiro. “Meanwhile, your naval friend is assembling his own team, and they will arrive at the end of the week, with two armed ships. Congratulations, Kamiya.” Despite the monotonous delivery, the news was welcome.

“Hayashi is a good friend, and I look forward to seeing him.”

Saito curtly nodded. “Second, Tokio can watch your home while you’re gone.”

“Thank you.” Koshijiro said, surprised.

“It’s no trouble.” Tokio gave a gracious smile. “In fact, it’s the least I can do. The boys will have to come with me, but we won’t leave any trace that we were here.”

“And lastly,” The third matter had to be unpleasant, because Saito spat the words. “I had to negotiate terms with Shanghai. They will increase security and naval patrols…but if Yukishiro turns up at their port or is found on Chinese land, they’ll keep him and turn over all other non-Chinese companions to us. If he’s arrested in Japan, they can pursue extradition after we try him in our court.”

It sounded perfectly acceptable to Koshijiro, though Saito appeared livid at the possibility that Yukishiro could be swiped away from the end of his katana. Well, he wouldn’t protest; it would be motivating. “So, we’ll devote everything we have to their location.”

“With absolute swiftness.” The assistant chief inspector declared, and he led his wife to the front door. “When I give notice, all of you have to be prepared to fight.”

The emphasis wasn’t lost on them, nor the final glance to the unseen Himura.

Yahiko straightened up. “We will. For sure.”

They turned in for the night, and Koshijiro stared at his ceiling in deep thought. Today’s attempt had not been successful, and there was no room for further missteps. Tomorrow, the discussion would have to lay everything bare. His thoughts folded and refolded, as he considered Himura. Not the assassin, not the wanderer. The man himself.

Just before falling asleep, he knew. In order to learn, there first had to be a solid foundation. And Koshijiro was a teacher.

***

At dawn, he woke on his own and he felt tranquility settle over him like an outer robe. Not wanting to wake anyone else, he quietly made his way to Himura’s room. Shinomori was sitting just inside, head lowered, though he did start when Koshijiro loomed over him. Then, he nodded towards the sleeping form of Himura, back still against the wall. After a moment, he wordlessly left, leaving the two of them alone. Koshijiro drew closer, taking the position directly across Himura.

He sat in meditation, for close to an hour, before Himura finally stirred. His shoulders lifted a fraction, and through his bangs, his eyes slowly opened.

“Good morning.” Koshijiro greeted. “Would you like tea? I can make some.”

A verbal response never came, though in a very slight motion, he shook his head.

“That’s alright. Let me know if you change your mind. It’s a new day.” He stood and opened the window, allowing crisp air to flow in. “And so, we will start over.”

“…how?” Ah, so his interest was piqued.

Koshijiro steeled himself; this was the point of no return, he would have to choose every word carefully. “Himura-san, until now, you’ve been motivated by guilt and shame. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t feel a sense of remorse, but in excess, it consumes you. I know.” He said, his voice raw. “I understand. So, believe me when I say that it cannot be everything you feel. You’ve stayed with us for months. Was it only because of guilt?”

“No!” Himura vehemently answered. It was the strongest response he had since Kaoru was kidnapped. A good sign.

“Then, what have you felt? You can start from the beginning, when you first met Kaoru.”

For a long while, Himura did not speak. And then, he haltingly said. “It was...the end of winter. This one wandered to Tokyo. A chilly evening. In the darkness, this one heard a voice. Kaoru-dono, calling the name of Battousai. A coincidence, she did not know at the time. She was defending Kamiya Kasshin’s reputation. It was the Hiruma brothers, and you know that part of the story, Kamiya-dono.”

“Yes, I do.”

“This one...was very grateful to Kaoru-dono. And touched by her words, her devotion to Kamiya Kasshin and the ideal of a world where swords were not used to kill. This one thought it wouldn’t be bad, to stay for a while. To watch her regain students, to build that better world. And you returned the following week.”

“I apologize again for trying to punch you.”

Himura didn’t smile or laugh, but there was a flicker of light in his gaze, a spark amidst the emptiness. “It was this one’s fault too, for not being clear. Still, this one felt...comfortable. Useful, to cook meals and do laundry and clean the house. Kaoru-dono was always kind, talking about the day and the townsfolk. Who to buy groceries from, who was friendly. And with you, she was much happier. This one can tell you are close.” He paused. “Then, we met Yahiko.”

“That’s right. I understand that you convinced him to learn Kamiya Kasshin. I admit, I wasn’t so sure of him at first. But he’s become more mature and disciplined, a good student. What did you see in him? How did you meet?”

“He stole this one’s wallet. But…this one knew right away, he had the potential of a swordsman. This one went to help him from the yakuza, so he could become a student of the Kamiya dojo. And he has become much stronger, in body and spirit.”

“He has and I’m glad you brought him here. He is vastly different from the wayward pickpocket, and his future is brighter, now that he understands the weight and responsibility of the sword that protects.” Koshijiro then prompted. “He wasn’t the only young man who’s changed.”

“Sanosuke. His first wish was to fight this one, as a representative of the Sekihoutai. Since that day, his boldness has not wavered at all. But instead of thirst for battle, he raises his fists for the group. He is a loyal friend.”

Hopefully, Sagara was faring well. Was he out of trouble at least? Had he reunited with his family? “Yes, he certainly is. Impatient, perhaps, but in the hour of need, he will never abandon the ones he cares for.” He had just finished the sentence, when the door suddenly opened.

Takani’s eyes were round with astonishment at the two of them, the tray in her hands shaking slightly. “I heard voices and I thought…never mind, both of you can keep going. It’s obvious you’re not finished yet. But you have to eat something! Raid the kitchen if you don’t want mochi and tea, the house is all yours for today.” Immediately, she set down the breakfast and as she hurried out, she looked to Koshijiro. Her gaze was misty in gratitude, and she mouthed a thank you. She closed the door with a rattle, and faintly, Koshijiro thought he heard Makimachi’s questioning voice and Takani’s brisk response, before silence returned again.

“That was surprisingly good timing.” He poured the tea and slid a cup to Himura. “She must be headed for the clinic. Takani-san is becoming an excellent doctor; Dr. Gensai never fails to tell me how much she’s progressed.”

“It is her way to atone.” Himura softly said. “To use her skills to heal others instead of leading them to the grave.”

Koshijiro sensed they were treading too close to the dark precipice again and he hastily moved on. “It wasn’t long after that, the Maekawa dojo incident occurred. I remember you offered to accept the challenge instead, and how you defeated Raijuuta for Yutaro’s sake.”

“It was all this one could do.” He deflected, but his eyes met Koshijiro’s. “Kaoru-dono has embraced the role of head instructor.”

“She has, and I’m incredibly proud of her.” And he was anxious for her to be safe, without a single lasting injury. The idea of her in danger was gnawing at him; he quickly pivoted to their discussion. “What happened afterwards…? Ah, then we met Sagara-san’s friend. I’m not sure whether he enjoyed our get-together at the dojo.”

“He was intending to bomb the Department of Internal Affairs.”

That was news to Koshijiro. “I didn’t know about this.” He took one of the mochi, biting into it. The slight sweetness filled his mouth and he carefully pushed the tray closer to Himura.

“This one did not want to wake anyone else, but Sanosuke and Tsunan were already leaving. The latter still held a grudge against the Meiji government, and Sanosuke helped in stopping him.” Himura quietly explained. “So, no harm occurred.”

“Thank you. You protected the city’s peace.” He did vaguely recall a rumor about a break-in, that had paled in comparison to the ensuing events. “I believe Saito-san appeared not long after.”

Himura slowly nodded. “To recruit this one.”

“However, you didn’t want to break your vow.”

“…no. But this one did not know how to decline. As a hitokiri, and then on the front lines, this one followed orders without protest. But…with everyone’s support, this one felt like he could refuse. Until the late minister was killed.”

“And so, you changed your mind.”

“This one could not stand by, to allow Shishio to bring destruction and death.”

“I agree. It would not be like you at all. That was why none of us were surprised. We were sad for you, but we understood.” Koshijiro’s ears burned at the confession. Was that right to say? Yes, sad had to be the appropriate label for how they felt, how he felt at the time.

“In Kyoto, this one…did not expect to see Kaoru-dono and Yahiko.”

“Yes, they followed you.” There was another unbearably long pause. And Koshijiro grasped for a thought. “Because we care for you and worry about you.” It was embarrassing, but he had to keep going. “You were doing the right thing, to stop Shishio, but we would never let you succumb into the depths. To remind you of who you are, the man who belonged at the Kamiya dojo.”

“Belonged?” Himura repeated, his eyes questioning.

“You still do.” Koshijiro gruffly said. “It was not the same without you. Emptier, colder, without your presence. While I was watching the house, there were inquiries about where you’d gone and where Kaoru and Yahiko were. As for myself, I had to clean the shed as a distraction from loneliness. I was very glad when I finally received the telegram of your victory.”

With so much talking, his mouth was dry. He gulped down the lukewarm tea, trying to dampen the flush of discomfort. If he had his handkerchief, he’d wipe his forehead. Talking about his feelings was not his strength. Absolutely not. But for Himura, who needed to find himself again, this was necessary. It was the most important thing right now.

“You did visit every week. It must have been tiring to travel.”

“I was only tired when I returned to the empty house. Otherwise, seeing everyone and observing your progress made the frequent trips worth it.”

“Kyoto holds many memories.” Then, without prompting, Himura said. “But the exercises, the training, the rebuilding and the festival…those are what this one wants to remember about the city.”

Koshijiro carefully looked at him. Perhaps, the darkness had receded a touch, but he was not free of it yet. A little further, as if he was turning, at the base of a long set of steps. Koshijiro offered his hand, fingers splayed, and caught the flicker of Himura’s upward gaze. Better. “And when we were home, your true desire was granted. Kaoru welcomed you, just like this.”

“She did.” His voice was barely a whisper. “And it was peaceful again, until Enishi arrived. This one did not mean to hide the past, but it was painful to share.”

He quickly emphasized. “None of us blame you. We were only worried about you. It is why we fought the other lackeys, and we were glad to lend our support to you.” They had reached the present, at the steepest obstacle; there was no point in reminding Himura of that horrendous night. Koshijiro hesitated, staring at the sakabato. “Now…you have locked up your sword. Why did you do that?”

“Because this one hasn’t found it yet. The answer…” He gripped the sakabato in fierce desperation. “What is the answer to atone for all of this one’s sins? The vow this one made…it was not enough…”

“And you’re right.” At this concession, he glanced up and Koshijiro explained. “You traveled all of Japan, with your oath to never kill again with the sword. But those words carried an assassin’s regret as well. Like the chains between your hands, that mindset shackled you to your past.”

“So, was this one wrong the whole time?”

Whether Himura was right or wrong, that was not for Koshijiro to decide. And perhaps, not even for humans to judge. But the answer was elsewhere entirely, at the top of the foundation they’d been building over the course of the morning. This was the true meaning of their discussion.

“When we first met, I was…blinded by my own assumptions and stubbornly stuck to them. And I only want what is best for Kaoru. But, I was misguided.” Koshijiro bowed his head. He wasn’t certain whether he was choosing the right words, and it was painfully difficult. Here in this moment, he was going to be completely honest. “I understand what she saw in you. You are a selfless man, who has been attentive to the needs of other people. You are always diligent and willing to lend your sword if a fight is unavoidable. You may feel mired in darkness, and yet, with every action over these months, your heart has never wavered. So, what is your answer? It is a new vow.”

“A new…vow.” Himura echoed. The sun had moved with the day’s passing, and the light cast over his face. His hair and eyes shone brighter; had the spark lit anew?

“We have talked for a long time and I already know what it is, but I’m not going to tell you.” At Himura’s confused expression, he clarified. “This is something you need to realize for yourself, to form in your own words. The reason, that Himura Kenshin should live for. Again and again through the memories we have gone over, you have demonstrated it. All you need to do is speak it.”

And with that, Koshijiro brushed himself off and stood. “The tea is cold and it’s nearly time for lunch. I’m going to the kitchen so I’ll be right back.” It was best that Himura have a moment to think anyway, and he wasn’t concerned that the man would try to disappear again.

As for himself, he felt as if he’d undergone a purification ceremony. Exhausted, but with a sense of inner resolve. A satisfying and clean feeling. He had to smile wryly at that.

***

However, as soon as he approached the stove, there was a call from the gate. He hurried outside, and almost bumped into the smaller figure racing across the front yard. Yahiko was trying to catch his breath, the hilts of two shinai peeking over his shoulder, and he grasped Koshijiro’s arm.

“Kamiya-san, come help!” He urged. “There’s trouble in town!”

“Then, lead the way.”

His gaze darted towards the house. “And Kenshin?”

“He’s better but not ready yet. You can explain everything to me.”

The boy began to run and Koshijiro increased his pace as well, as the words spilled. “I was with Tsubame, we were buying stuff for their new place. We were talking because she seemed down and…well, anyway, I was coming back here when I heard the Armstrong cannon!”

It had to be Kujiranami. “He must have broken out of his cell.”

“Yeah, and we need to stop him! I grabbed my shinai and one for you.”

“Thank you, Yahiko. What about the others? Shinomori-san, Makimachi-san?”

Yahiko shook his head. “After breakfast, Misao said they were going to join up with Saito’s team. They think they’ve found a specific island.”

Koshijiro’s heart jumped. “Really? Where? Which one?”

“I don’t know. She was already sprinting off and of course, Aoshi was totally silent.”

“No, it’s fine. I should have expected as much.” Still, he hoped the lead would be fruitful.

“Um…there’s something else. I told Tsubame. Kind of.” He puffed, more exertion than anything. “Like, I said we’d all be together again soon. I know we weren’t supposed to reveal the truth until this is over but she really looked sad, and I wanted to cheer her up.” His expression was guilty, but Koshijiro only gave a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. The secret is making us all feel guilty, and the intention was never to distress anyone. But we are close to our goal and I will bear responsibility later. For now, let’s focus on neutralizing the threat.”

At this point, they were a few blocks away from the station. However, smoke was billowing in its direction and the bells for the fire brigade were clanging. And then, there was a familiar explosive boom. It was the middle of the day, and people were confused. Some were standing still, others hastily retreating into their homes. No one was moving fast enough.

The scream of his name drew Koshijiro’s attention, and he locked eyes with Shinichi, who was urgently waving. Koshijiro beckoned him off the main road. Yahiko quietly passed over the shinai, while the young man delivered the report in gasps.

“The cannon-armed guy! He’s escaped!” Shinichi rambled, eyes wild. “The chief hasn’t recovered and the assistant chief had to leave on urgent business. The station’s blown up. A few units have gone to the army and headquarters, but it’ll be another hour before they get here. We don’t have a chain of command, everyone’s going to die-”

“Officer Shinichi, take deep breaths.” He laid his hand upon the young man’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. Now, when your mind is calm, you can think clearly.”

“Y-yes. I’m sorry, it’s just that this situation is terrible…we need to evacuate the civilians!”

“Agreed. Who’s here?”

“Our unit is on this street, but I don’t know about anyone else.”

“That will be enough.” Koshijiro glanced over the rooftops. A distant crash made him grimace, and he said. “Time is short. We’ll have to act fast, so gather the others.”

At Shinichi’s whistle, the remaining fourteen arrived within the minute. Their identical expressions were of nervousness and concern. Koshijiro split them into groups of three. “Kujiranami is a dangerous individual, not only because of his strength and weapon, but in his rage, he will not hold himself back. He has no targets in mind, so he will indiscriminately point the cannon anywhere. Our priority is evacuation! Fujisawa, Ikehira, Kato: the north. Maeda, Yoshihara, Abe: the west. Kobayashi, Tanaka, Shimizu: the east. Aoki, Tomita, Eguchi: the south. And for Shinichi, Nakamura, and Hoshi: fortify the end of the street. Gather any materials, recruit volunteers. Kujiranami will not go further than here.”

“That’s right!” Yahiko declared. “Kamiya-san and I will stop him! We can use the buildings as cover. We know the area, and together, we can flank him! We’ve got tactics!”

“…Huh?” The officers were taken aback.

“Yahiko’s right. We may not have artillery or manpower, but we have our wits and skill. Most importantly, we have our composure. And…it’s only fitting.” Koshijiro gripped his shinai. “A one-armed opponent for a one-armed criminal.”

“Kamiya-san…”

“Damn, that was good.”

“I’d give my life today, I’m not afraid anymore!”

“No one’s going to die today!” Yahiko admonished them. He tipped his chin to the bright blue sky and roared. “Let’s go!”

Everyone couldn’t help crying out, and then, they separated. People quickly filed out of the vicinity, thanks to the confident directions of the officers. Yahiko scrambled up to a rooftop for a vantage point, though Koshijiro repeatedly told him to be careful. “If he sees you, come down immediately.”

“Got it. He’s still headed this way, they’re trying to shoot at him, but he isn’t affected at all. His cannon looks a little different. Did he always have a bayonet attached to it?”

“That doesn’t sound like the same weapon he was arrested with.”

“How’d he get something like that?”

Koshijiro internally cursed. “It must have been from the prison. I remember when I had my inspection; there’s a room with military grade weapons meant to suppress riots, per the chief jailer’s proud request. Knowing Yukishiro, he must have designed the metal arm to be compatible with other machinery.”

“Yahiko-kun!” They turned instinctively, finding Tsubame standing by the barricade of crates and planks. She must have returned. Her uncertain voice floated towards them. “You’re fighting?”

“I have to. This is what I’ve decided, to protect people with Kamiya Kasshin. So, don’t cry. Like I said earlier, we’re all going to see each other again.”

She stared for a moment, her face crestfallen before she clasped her hands together. “Then…I’m going to the Kamiya dojo! I will find Kenshin-san and tell him everything so he can help!”

“Thanks, Tsubame! Please talk to him!”

“Y-yes! I will!” Her eyes were fearful, but her head was held high as she ran.

“She’s become stronger as well.” Koshijiro noted.

“I believe in her. Kenshin too.” Yahiko grinned at him. “And of course, the both of us.”

Then, the clamor intensified, and the next explosion was much closer. The interval between blasts was shorter than previously, though not as strong. And then, a shadow appeared. Outlined by the glow of flames, he was seething, each step thunderous. If they failed, Kujiranami would rampage throughout the city, unchecked in his destruction.

Koshijiro stood in the middle of the street, lifting the shinai in a neutral position. He inhaled, filling his lungs, and shouted. The kiai was like crackling energy from his head to his feet, and he lowered his stance, connecting to the immovable earth.

Now, he could see the new cannon-arm. Above the bayonet, the barrel was smaller, more suitable for the chain of ammunition draped over Kujiranami’s torso. Grenades. That explained the changes in reload time and force. “He’s firing grenades. These attacks will be faster and more numerous.” He explained to Yahiko.

“We gotta charge him.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I’ll take the right, Kamiya-san.” The side with the weapon.

“Yahiko-”

“You’re still recovering and I’m a smaller target. I’ll be okay!”

There was no time to protest, because the man was picking up speed. Silently, he trusted Yahiko as they closed the distance. Swerving around, he aimed for the back of Kujiranami’s head. The blow reverberated through Koshijiro’s arm, but other than a pained grunt, Kujiranami shrugged it off. He swung the cannon and there was a glimpse of dark hair whirling away. Yahiko was barely dodging, but he was holding his own. A rivulet of blood trickled from the seam where metal attached to skin.

The hiss was the only warning, and Koshijiro crossed the nearest threshold, taking cover as a grenade exploded in the street. With the amount of ammunition Kujiranami bore, there was no possibility of wasting all his shots. But if the cannon was stuck, where the grenades fed into the barrel…that would eliminate the immediate danger.

“Battousai!” Kujiranami was still fixated on Himura.

Koshijiro rushed out, but the man didn’t seem to register his presence, continuing to trudge forward. Yahiko emerged as well, saying. “We both landed hits, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.”

“What we should target is the loading mechanism of the cannon. There.” Koshijiro pointed the end of his shinai to Kujiranami’s upper arm. Since they were behind him, they could see where the grenades inserted into the underside of the weapon. “I can provide a distraction. Yahiko, can you find a way to jam the cannon?”

“I can do it! I already have an idea.” He nodded confidently.

“Good. I believe in you as well.” Then, after ensuring Yahiko had hidden in a nearby building, Koshijiro called out. “Kujiranami! You will never fight Hitokiri Battousai again!”

Fortunately, this caught his attention. He turned slowly, his face distorted in a sneer. “What?”

“The assassin died with the old era. You are clinging to the past, not even to a ghost, but to the time when your arm was cut off.”

“By Battousai!”

“Because he did not want to take your life! For ten years, you have drowned in resentment and misery, for the sole reason that you were not given a warrior’s death. You unfairly blame Himura-san, and you are wrong.”

Kujiranami snarled, approaching closer. “How would you understand? You lost your left, not even your dominant hand!”

Koshijiro bellowed. “But you’re not the only one who lost something and you’re certainly not the only person who’s ever suffered! Tell me, what have you done, other than cause more suffering?!”

The cannon-arm violently swung, and he was forced to retreat. He ducked, the grenade firing into the rooftop overhead. Dust, splinters, and heat washed over him. With the shinai, he charged once more. This time, he made it obvious, and as expected, he was parried by the metal barrel. The bayonet was now below Koshijiro’s hand, aiming directly at his heart. Only the length of his arm was keeping Kujiranami at bay.

The other man’s expression had become impassive. He seemed less like a raging beast, more human. Was he regaining his sanity? “Why aren’t you bitter? You were a samurai once, weren’t you?”

“Those days are over, and even so, I am not bitter because I know pride is nothing without honor. Do you truly believe you’ve acted as honorably as a samurai should? If you are able to see what you’ve done, you can stop yourself.”

Something in his expression gave, but that hope was short-lived. “…I can’t. Never. This is what I have left of my strength!” The cannon lowered, and Koshijiro’s knees bent further. The bayonet slid, and sharp agony welled at his chest. But he couldn’t disengage.

“Hadome!” A cry resounded, and Yahiko’s short spiky hair appeared. The backs of his hands were catching the bayonet’s base, preventing advancement. His core was strong. Every word was a struggle, yet brimming with willpower. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else! Protecting people with the sword…that’s my strength. That’s how I want to live in the new era. Just like my friends! Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu: Hawatari!”

And then, he launched at Kujiranami and swung at his underarm. That was a weak spot for anyone, and the man recoiled. The bamboo had snapped with the amount of force, but that must have been the plan all along. The loading mechanism was perfectly lined up, and Yahiko inserted the broken hilt within. A harsh grinding noise followed.

“No! No!” Kujiranami howled. His other fist lashed out, knocking Koshijiro in the ribs. He was thrown aside, impacting the ground on his wounded shoulder. Stars of pain lit in his vision, as Kujiranami reached for Yahiko-

A flash of red descended from the sky. The blade shone on the opposite side of the sword, as nine attacks were unleashed in quick succession on Kujiranami. The three-point landing was unsteady, but Himura managed to right himself. In the daylight, he looked thinner and the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t fully receded. But he was here. He had found his reason to stand again.

Relief flooded Koshijiro.

Yahiko swayed on his feet. “Kenshin!”

But Kujiranami remained standing, and he attempted to fire, the grinding worse. With a hoarse shout, Himura soared into the air and struck again, this time at the seam. The cannon clanked, severed from its owner, and dropped uselessly in the dirt. Kujiranami stared at it, then the stump of his arm. Unwrapped, the skin was rubbed raw and irritated, not like a decade-old wound.

“For a second time, I’ve been defeated.” He uttered.

Himura replied. “Even if you wish it, this one will not kill you. You may not have your right hand, but you have a warrior’s fighting spirit. That is how you’ve endured the past ten years, a strength that will surpass any weapon. Please, turn yourself in and continue to live in peace.”

He bowed his head, but the tears on his face couldn’t be concealed. “You, and Kamiya, and…who is this boy?” He looked to where he was protectively standing over Koshijiro.

“I’m Myojin Yahiko, of the Myojin family! My father was a samurai.” Surely, Yahiko’s father would be proud at the burning fire in his son’s gaze.

“A worthy showdown then, and you all spoke honestly. Thank you…and I surrender.” At these words, the officers jumped in with handcuffs and chains. Kujiranami was docile, with one lingering glance at the cannon before it was confiscated. He nodded at Koshijiro, who responded in kind.

He had mustered the energy to sit, and he exhaled. “Welcome back, Himura-san.”

“Forgive this one, Kamiya-dono.” His voice still sounded weak, but he limped towards them. “This one was nearly too late.”

“It’s alright. Have you found what you were seeking?”

“Yes. And thank you.” Abruptly, his knee buckled and he fell to the ground but his fleeting smile was of relief. Koshijiro dragged his weary body next to him and Yahiko collapsed at his other side. They must have made quite a picture, laying on their backs together and though too tired to speak, they stayed in that little huddle.

A screech of braking wheels, and the slam of a door. Leaping over the barricade, Shinomori rushed towards them, with Saito and Makimachi in his wake. Medical bag in her grasp, Takani was squeezing through a gap, Tsubame closely at her heels. Ah, good. Everyone was accounted for…except one person. And they would see her very soon. Koshijiro closed his eyes, and the last thing he registered before exhaustion set in was the city’s budding applause.

#rurouni kenshin #i had a lot of fun writing koshijiro's obvious discomfort #and also the rallying orders #did i make him too cool lol

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm's Length Chapter 24

It's here at last, I had a busy few months (lots of work, passed a 2-day test, got sick over the holidays), but I'm picking up where we left off! On FF.net and AO3

Chapter 24: Finding Closure

When the constant motion finally ceased, the ship’s noise faded as well, save for Sagara’s voice ringing through the mess hall.

“So, I see them carrying the straw hats into town and my dad’s acting like I’m a total stranger. Of course, I give it right back! Then, he drags me along, pretending to treat me to lunch because I saved his other kids.” His story had occupied their attention, helping time pass. It had taken a while to get to this point, since he had gone into extensive detail of his fights on the road. He had encountered his sister first, accompanied by a younger brother who he’d never known. “I’ll wait to tell the next part. Have we stopped?”

Word came that the anchor had dropped, and collectively, they went up to the deck. They had safely arrived at the port, to an early evening. Lights flickered in the distant city streets. The sailors had set the ramp for them to disembark, talking about refueling.

Hayashi nodded at Koshijiro. “This is where we part ways. I may bring the family to visit Tokyo, when the girls are old enough to travel.”

“Please do. And thank you for all your help.” They bowed to each other, and Hayashi took over command of his vessel. One of the orders must have been to sound the ship’s bell as their group disembarked, because this was carried out by Ehara, with a glimmer of a friendly smile.

But they had one more thing to take care of. The criminals had been transferred to the military police, preparing for extradition. Woo was among them, his face still swollen from the beating. The very last in the line was Yukishiro. He was surrounded by officers, head lowered. That was Takani’s cue and she unlocked a drawer in her medicine box, retrieving the book from safekeeping. She handed it to Kaoru, glancing at Yukishiro with trepidation.

Kaoru quietly addressed Himura. “This is alright, isn’t it?”

“Yes…it should be.”

She took a deep breath and stepped forward, offering the diary. “Here…this belongs to you now. Please read it.”

His eyes were dull, sliding from her to Himura. However, he did accept, holding the spine with both cuffed hands. Then, he disappeared in a group of uniformed officers.

I’ll follow up on him. Koshijiro thought. Although Saito was confident that Yukishiro had lost his willpower, he still didn’t trust the young man. He watched the military police for a moment longer, before his daughter called out for him to catch up.

At the end of the docks, someone was waiting. The dark blue atmosphere of dusk couldn’t hide the figure’s tall stature, which didn’t budge as they approached. Hiko curtly nodded at his apprentice. “So, you’re breathing. The tanuki father made it sound like you were on the verge of death.”

“I certainly did not.” Koshijiro argued.

“Why else would you have written?”

Himura blinked in surprise. “Kamiya-dono, you wrote to him?”

“I was grasping for ideas on how to help you.” He deflected, suddenly embarrassed.

“But that was very kind of you, Kamiya-dono.” Himura gave a grateful smile. “Although, Shishou…when did you arrive?”

“This afternoon.”

“Then, you should stay with us!” Kaoru beamed. “Like I said before, you’re always welcome.”

Escaping attention, they took the back roads, the same route Koshijiro had used when he came home. Saito didn’t pass the gate, waiting outside for his family. Tokio returned the key with the update that it had been uneventful in their absence. Her gaze landed on Kaoru, her expression softening.

“I’m glad to see you’re well, Kaoru-san.”

“And I’m glad to be home. Will you join us for dinner?”

“I’m afraid not. Tsutomu’s bedtime is soon and he’ll be fussy. We’ll leave you to rest.” The toddler was in his father’s arms, a paternal gesture that had drawn everyone’s blatant staring. Tokio then added. “Eiji-kun has made a gift for you.”

“It matches the other one I made.” The boy muttered.

“Thank you, I can’t wait to see it.”

With the farewells finished, they settled inside. The house was soon filled with quiet conversation and rustling movements, of comforting sounds. Dinner was quickly made: tamagoyaki, both salty and sweet; stir-fried burdock with sesame seeds; eggplant cooked in ginger and bonito flakes; the remaining miso divided into soup bowls beside the rice portions. And it was the most delicious meal they’d had in over a week. Not a speck was left over, after multiple helpings were served.

Sagara had resumed his story, reaching the climax where he had defeated the gangsters and their leader, a former sumo wrestler. “I did restrain myself a little, so nobody was hurt too bad. But I had to get going, and my old man’s looking after my siblings.” Then, he yawned and that set off a chain reaction of more, especially among Yahiko and Makimachi.

Exhausted, they settled in early, but there was the inevitable question of space. The girls shared Kaoru’s room, Sagara offered to bunk with Himura, and Shinomori was going to stay with Yahiko. That left…

“This’ll do.” Hiko set his sloshing gourd on the floorboards, and unceremoniously planted himself in the free corner of Koshijiro’s bedroom.

Koshijiro suppressed a sigh. Well, he had asked for this, in a way. “If you need blankets, the closet is across the hall.”

In response, he drew his coat around himself and folded his arms. It made Koshijiro feel incredibly awkward about slipping under his own covers. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to drift off.

“Your words reached him.” It wasn’t exactly an expression of gratitude, but it was probably the closest the incorrigible man could muster.

“Himura-san has always been selfless. But you already knew that.”

“Hmph. It’s what instigated our argument, all those years ago. Not that he would ever have been content to stay in the mountains like I have, which doesn’t matter anyway. This place is his home now.”

The next thing Koshijiro knew, it was just before dawn. His throat was dry, and he slowly sat up, but he soon realized there was no need to be quiet. The corner was empty. He shuffled out of bed, and the draft told him the front door was open. He padded over, finding two familiar silhouettes at the threshold.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else, Shishou?”

Hiko was fully dressed, ready to depart. “Don’t fuss over me. Unless you want me to stay longer? The tanuki father behind you might disagree.”

Koshijro jolted but instead said. “Thank you for visiting. It was kind of you, and as Kaoru said, you’re welcome when you’re in the area again.”

“Do you plan to be?” Himura asked, a slight begrudging inflection in his tone.

“I have a feeling I will, and soon.” The man smirked, and with his coat sailing in the wind, he briskly strode off.

“Shishou is unpredictable as always.” A sigh escaped Himura. “This one apologizes if he disturbed you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Not at all. It wasn’t…terrible. Anyway, you should go back to sleep, Himura-san.” He gruffly said. Himura didn’t protest, only nodding, and Koshijiro watched him before returning to his own.

For now, they took the well-deserved time to recuperate. To ward off unwanted visitors, Koshijiro had taken a regular position at the front, letting in Tae and Tsubame. The morning sunshine cast over the porch, and Kaoru’s figure, enjoying the garden. Tsubame immediately cried, overwhelmed with relief, and tears glittered in Tae’s eyes.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She cupped Kaoru’s face, her voice wavering. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re alive.”

“Kaoru-san, you’re here…Yahiko-kun!” Tsubame warbled, at the sight of him. She grabbed his sleeve, almost afraid to let him go.

“See, Tsubame? I told you we’d be all together again.”

“You did…you really did…”

Then, Dr. Gensai arrived with his granddaughters, who immediately tackled Kaoru in their exuberance. Koshijiro provided an abbreviated version of events, while the doctor wrote a list of foods to recover her strength. Other than the bruises on her neck and mild weight loss, Kaoru was declared to be in good health.

“Nothing that plenty of quiet time won’t fix.” Dr. Gensai heartily said. “And the same goes for all of you!”

But they couldn’t hide forever, and Koshijiro expected questions would arise. He didn’t quite anticipate the large crowd at their front door, at the end of the week. The noise was reaching a fever pitch, it would disturb those sleeping.

“Please, I’ll explain.” He held up his hand, getting their attention. “Kaoru was abducted, by a group with ill intentions. They attempted to fake her death, but we discovered the truth and planned to recover Kaoru as soon as possible. To conceal our intentions from the enemy, we held a mock funeral. We have safely brought her home now. I humbly apologize for deceiving everyone.” At this, he lowered himself to his knees, bowing fully. “We are still recovering from this ordeal; I would like to ask for some privacy.”

The curiosity lingered, although people dispersed. The clamor gave way to sentiments of recovery, as well as how remarkable a tale it was. At the very end, a handful of people remained, who were instantly recognizable. The chief, Shinichi, Maekawa, and a couple of his students.

Maekawa strode towards Koshijiro, his expression caught between glad and indignant. “You devil! You fooled us all!”

“I’m sorry.” He allowed Maekawa to grab his collar and shake him vigorously. At least, it was reassuring that his friend was getting stronger.

“Well, I hope you’ve arrested the bastards who did it!”

“They’re in custody.”

However, Chief Uramura cleared his throat. “That is the other reason why we’re here.”

Foreboding washed over Koshijiro. “What’s the news?”

“Yukishiro Enishi has vanished.”

***

Inside the house, their group had to convene. It was a frustrating development; security personnel had fallen with the attacks, and the disappearance had occurred overnight. Yukishiro must have been long gone before anyone realized. Even if Woo was on a ship bound for Shanghai and the rest of the men had not broken out, it was a gross oversight. The chief then departed, saying he was already gathering a search party. Nevertheless, Koshijiro was chagrined.

“This one is not surprised. Enishi is resourceful.” Himura’s reaction was mild. “But he will not fight.”

“Just in case, I’m going to the station.” Koshijiro said. “Kaoru, will you stay at home?”

She had looked from Himura to him, before pressing her lips together. “Okay. I trust both of you.”

“Actually, I wanted to speak with you!” The voice drew their attention, and all eyes swiveled towards the figure in the back. Shinichi sat on his heels, lowering his head. “I’d like to become a student of Kamiya Kasshin!”

“W-what?! Really?”

“I saw Officer Kamiya and this young boy battle a cannon-armed man for the people of Tokyo. I’ve been thinking about that day over and over, and I want to join the dojo.”

Koshijiro had no idea Shinichi was interested. Did he have kenjutsu experience? But as long as he was motivated and willing to use a sword to protect life…that was certainly welcome.

The stunned silence was ended by a protest. “Young boy? I’m Myojin Yahiko, and I’m the first student. The second student’s spot is taken, but I guess you can be the third! I’ll show you around, I guess, as long as you can keep up.”

“Thank you, Yahiko-senpai!”

Yahiko puffed up at the new honorific. “Yeah, you’re welcome!” And then, they hurried off.

“Hold on, as the master, I have to evaluate you first!” Kaoru shook her head in disbelief. “Not that I’ll say no, but geez, they’re rushing.”

“Then, we should catch up with them, Kaoru-dono.” Himura stood, swaying a bit, and she placed her fingers on his forearm.

Koshijiro waited until the light touch stopped. “Tell Officer Shinichi that he needs your approval, Kaoru, but he is hardworking and courteous. I’ll support him as well.”

“Of course, Otou-san.”

Makimachi grinned, her braid whipping as she followed in their wake. “I’ll keep a lookout while you’re gone! And once Megumi’s done with clinic stuff, I’ll let her know too.”

Shinomori and Sagara chose to accompany Koshijiro. The former had offered to interrogate the guards. “We are relying on secondhand knowledge; it would be better to find out the truth from the sources.”

Sagara nodded. “Yeah, we can find out if they’re slacking off. I did see the Hiruma brothers in Nagano.”

Koshijiro halted. “Weren’t they supposed to be in prison?”

“That’s what I thought!”

What were they even paying security for?! “…I’m counting on you, Shinomori-san.”

The man nodded impassively, though Sagara raised an eyebrow. “Hey, what about me? Wait a second, let me join you, Aoshi.”

“You can, as long as you don’t interfere. You may even learn something.”

“Was that a joke?” He bumped his fist against Shinomori’s shoulder. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“What will you do, Kamiya-san?”

“Either Yukishiro is dead by those who wish to silence him, or he was freed by those loyal to him. But the starting point is inspecting where he was.”

The jail’s workers flinched under their collective scrutiny, but not much fuss was made. Shinomori’s cool demeanor and Sagara’s knuckle cracking herded them into docility, sparing one man to fumble with a set of keys. Koshijiro glanced at the adjacent cell, noticing it was empty.

“Was there anyone next to him?”

“An old fellow, who’s been here occasionally for disturbing the peace. He’s not right in the head from previous reports, never given us a name. But he was out of here by last night.”

Koshijro frowned as he carefully scanned. The lock was intact, suggesting it had been picked. Otherwise, the interior was bare, no sign of struggle or bloodshed, but a sweet smell was oddly out of place. White plums. Now that he recalled, it was reminiscent of the night when Kaoru was kidnapped. And Kaoru’s clothes from the island carried that same scent. Did Yukishiro wear perfume, a very feminine one at that? Was it associated with the deceased Tomoe?

He circled both cells; there was a leak in the ceiling, but hardly a viable escape. The bars were perfectly straight, and the bricks weren’t loose. He went into the main corridor, noting a creaky floorboard. Otherwise, it was a clear path to the outside, as long as someone could be silent. It wouldn’t have been a challenge for Yukishiro. Koshijiro then proceeded to walk a full lap around the building. Blind spots abounded, and the cover of night would have helped.

No bloodstains though, so Yukishiro was likely alive, yet without a trace. Where would he go? He didn’t have a weapon; the tachi had gone to China, part of a reparation. Koshijiro sighed…and bumped into a figure. As an apology left his mouth, he realized it was a stranger he knew. Worn clothes, a thick beard, and a repeated phrase.

“It’s all good, it’s all good.” Despite his unkempt appearance, the odor around him was cloyingly sweet. White plums.

Koshijiro reared back. “You.”

“Thank you, sir.” The man bowed his head, his glasses slipping off his nose. “And also, I’m deeply sorry for the trouble my son caused.”

Realization struck him. “You are Yukishiro Enishi’s father. Where is he?”

“Hm, not here, but we won’t bother you any longer.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was planning to visit the man who was there during my daughter’s death.”

Koshijiro’s vision wavered. He gripped the man’s shoulder, upon a disarming pressure point. “If you hurt Himura-san, I-”

“No, no! I thought I would bring him a small gift and sit for a while, but it wasn’t needed. You were at his side, after all.”

Embarrassed, he let go. “Oh. I apologize.”

“You’re a very good father. Much better than I was!” He chuckled but the sound was sad.

“You still have time to make things right. As long as you live, you can have another chance.” He echoed his wife’s words, from long ago.

The man gave an uncertain smile. “Kind words. From a kind person.”

“Not nearly as kind as you think.” He paused. “I don’t think I should encounter your son in the near future. Some things cannot be forgiven easily.”

“I understand. It was hard for me too, to forgive. Yes…it takes time.”

Koshijiro stiffly nodded. “Then, goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” And the elder Yukishiro shuffled away, melting into the crowd.

Koshijiro was still standing in place when Sagara jostled him. “Uh-oh, did he turn into a statue again?”

“Is something wrong?” Shinomori inquired.

“No, I’m fine. I had an unexpected conversation, but everything will hopefully turn out alright.”

***

The yellow chrysanthemums were blooming, and four little bouquets were appropriate offerings.

“You’re right. This is weird.” Kaoru knelt before the grave marker bearing her name.

“We’ll remove it soon.” Koshijiro said. “We won’t need it for many years to come.” Many, many years.

“Same for yours. How quickly can we get rid of them?”

“It will probably be around the same time as Reijo is given her own plot.”

Kaoru nodded somberly. “I heard she was identified? I feel so sorry for her.” The girl had been called Hanako, a slum beggar who had unfortunately remained at a toddler’s level of growth. The last time she was seen, an elderly lady had noted she was coughing. Whether she had died from illness or the hands of evil, it would never be confirmed.

“We can pray for her as well.” They bowed their heads, and Kaoru clasped her hands together.

Koshijiro offered silent gratitude to Reijo, with the hope she could rest in peace. Gein was dead and wouldn’t harm anyone else. Then, he turned his thoughts to his wife. Forgive me, Kyoko. Our daughter was in danger, and I swear that this will never happen again.

When they were finished, Kaoru remarked. “You know, while I was on the island, I dreamt of Okaa-san. She was standing under a wisteria tree, and she gave me a branch. She kissed my forehead and told me ‘Stay strong’. It felt so real.” She pressed a fingertip to the corner of her eye but she smiled. “Like she really was with me.”

Those were the same exact words in his mind, when they realized Kaoru was alive. He had been by Kyoko’s picture on the altar, and she had carried that hope to their girl. The wisteria must have been her personal touch, a symbol of resilience. Koshijiro’s heart ached. “I knew she’d watch over you.”

The walk home did tire her out though, and he encouraged her to take a nap. He then had to write a report, documenting the closure of the Jinchuu case. He didn’t really like the name, given that it was Yukishiro’s term, but it had stuck in the office. It was close to dinnertime when the last page was filled, and Kaoru knocked on his door.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

“Oh, yes. We’re eating mackerel pike tonight. Daikon and sweet potatoes too, since Kenshin requested them. And, well,” Color rose to her cheeks. “Kenshin wants to visit Kyoto for a day trip, and he invited me to join him.”

“…Do you want to go?”

Kaoru nodded, her gaze steady. “I’d like to pay my respects to Tomoe-san too.”

“Then, I’ll come along to chaperone.”

He expected the usual protest, but instead, she said. “We’re taking the first train. I’ll start packing.” She walked away, and he was left alone, brow furrowed.

No ‘you don’t have to’. No ‘nothing will happen’. This was clearly significant. He dropped his pen. If only I heard what they said to each other!

The plan was also conveyed over their meal of grilled fish. Himura was nonchalant. “We will return the day after tomorrow.”

Sagara made a suggestive wiggling gesture with his intact fingers. “An overnight trip, huh?”

“Stay at the Aoiya!” Makimachi ordered. “Jiiya will give you the best rooms, and ask if the wagashi shops have reopened. There’ll be mushi-yokan with chestnuts and persimmons, and inoko mochi that look like cute little pigs! I’m craving them already…”

Kaoru couldn’t resist teasing her. “Would you like to join us, Misao-chan?”

“Oh, um, Aoshi-sama wants to see the seven shrines, the ones dedicated to all the gods of fortune!” She grasped his arm with fervor. He shot her a glance but she continued. “And we haven’t done that yet, so we’ll stay in Tokyo for a while longer.”

It was an obvious ploy to spend more time together, but Shinomori didn’t refute the plan. “It is as Misao says. We will be here when you return.”

“I’ll guard the dojo.” Yahiko offered.

“Thank you, Yahiko.” Koshijiro added. “And please, be kind to Officer Shinichi. That’s what a good senpai would do.”

“Don’t worry, Kamiya-san! I’ll show him the ropes, and make sure he drinks water.” His eyes lit up. “Wait, can I use your book?”

“Yes, and remember to put it back.” After dinner, he showed Yahiko where the book was kept in a drawer, under the family altar. The boy flipped through the pages, then abruptly stopped. He jabbed his thumb at the change in handwriting.

“Hey, Kaoru wrote in here! It’s the lesson plan for beginners.”

Koshijiro peered over his spiky hair. “It seems she did. That will be very helpful.”

“Can I add to this too?”

“You can write separately on different paper, and have Kaoru and I read it first. When you are master of the school, you will inherit the book.”

He grudgingly agreed. “Okay. Guess I’ll wait. My technique will be perfected then…”

“Hm?”

“Nothing! Good night, Kamiya-san!” Flustered, he snapped the book shut, set it in the drawer, and raced in the direction of his room. Well, he had years to go, but he would become an excellent head instructor with plenty of experience.

The thought was pleasant and Koshijiro headed for his own bed. He turned the corner and noticed his daughter, listening to Takani.

“-salve containers. I included bandages if anything opens up, and more aspirin only when the pain is unbearable.” She gave the bundle to Kaoru, with a firm voice. “Remember what I told you, the last time we were in Kyoto. He won’t tell you if he’s on the brink.”

“Of course, Megumi. I won’t ever forget.” She went to pack it in her belongings, and Koshijiro approached.

“We appreciate it, Takani-san. Were you speaking of Himura-san?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Takani frowned. “Ken-san’s body isn’t ideal for his sword style; in a matter of years, he’ll be unable to fight. It’s the toll that Hiten Mitsurugi has taken. If he overexerts himself again…I really believed it was the end during this nightmarish ‘judgment’. But like I said to Kaoru, she cannot be weak for his sake. She’s the one who has to help him, if he’s occupied helping others.”

Koshijiro hadn’t realized that was the state of Himura’s health, but it made sense. An expert swordsman could easily develop incurable joint pains. With the physical prowess of Hiten Mitsurugi, it must have accelerated for Himura. “I understand. We’ll keep close eyes on him.”

“I know. So, I’m relieved.” Her voice fell to a murmur before picking up again. “I’m off to bed, I have an early start. I’m working with a midwife tomorrow.”

“That’s good. I hope you learn as much as you can.”

“I intend to.” By this point, Kaoru had returned, and Takani squeezed her shoulder. “Safe travels, and I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you, Megumi. Otou-san, did you need anything?” The bruises around her neck were a faint greenish color, which was better.

“Nothing at the moment.” He patted her head, smiling at her pout. “Good night.”

***

The train was slightly delayed, but they reached Kyoto without further issue. They arrived at the Aoiya first, to drop off their belongings, and were greeted raucously by Okina. He was dismayed by the absences of Makimachi and Shinomori, unaware of the glances and smirks of the other Oniwaban.

“We’re back in business, and fall is a popular season! Your rooms will have fantastic views, you’ll see what I mean. Tell Misao and Aoshi to hurry up, the Okashira’s leadership is sorely missing!” Amidst his complaints, he did provide directions to the nearest flower seller.

Yellow chrysanthemums were also abundant here. Himura purchased a small bucket, and Kaoru had brought a short letter. She was a little shy but summarized the contents. “I wanted to let her know that her diary is with her brother. And I’m grateful that her memory protected me during Jinchuu and on the island. That’s pretty much it.” Her cheeks were rosy, and Himura smiled fondly at her.

It was a kind gesture and it reminded Koshijiro. He carefully broached the subject. “There is something I must share.” Then, he told them about his two encounters with the elder Yukishiro. “I should have, but I never asked if he wanted to meet you, Himura-san.”

But he shook his head. “It’s alright, Kamiya-dono. Enishi needs him now. Time has begun moving for Enishi again, and he will have to consider how to atone for his actions. Not with death, but his own answer. His father can help, but they have spent many years apart, so it will take time.” He navigated the path to the cemetery, only slowing when they approached.

The grave had already been cleaned, arranged with two bundles of white cosmos, but the centerpieces were a small glass bottle and a hairpin. Koshijiro recognized the latter.

Kaoru leaned close to the bottle. “It’s white plums. Do you think they visited?”

“It’s the same hairpin that was bought in Tokyo.”

Himura had been still, and he closed his eyes. “If they have each other, Tomoe will smile upon them. This one is content with such knowledge.”

He tucked their offering among the others and Kaoru lit the incense. Then, it was silent as they prayed for the deceased Tomoe, for her to rest in peace. Koshijiro extended his thoughts to the father and son, to find peace within themselves. It was not an easy thing by any means, but if they could start there…

“I hope that was enough.” Kaoru said.

“What did you say?” Himura gently inquired.

“Um, thank you, and I’m sorry. Kenshin, what about you?”

“The same as Kaoru-dono. Sorry, and thank you.” After a moment, he added. “And goodbye.”

The significance was not lost on Koshijiro. Himura was expressing that he was ready to move on. Kaoru had recognized it too, looking softly at him. The wind sifted through the surrounding trees, and crackling leaves fluttered.

Himura offered his hand towards her. “Shall we go, Kaoru-dono?”

She readily accepted, her eyes shining. Koshijiro didn’t move immediately, watching for a few moments, how the two of them took each step together. Then, Kaoru’s ponytail shifted, and his stare moved to the blue sky. He feigned interest in the clouds; he sensed that she was looking back, but he continued to gaze upwards.

“It’s a nice day. You two lead on, I’ll be taking in the scenery.”

So, if they continued to hold hands the entire way, he wouldn’t know. After all, his eyes were elsewhere.

Author's Note: I think it was interesting to have Oibore and Koshijiro meet. Both have some similarities, in that they were both samurai and had daughters and lost their wives. But the difference is pointed out by Oibore; he wasn’t a good father and Koshijiro is in this story. And that has ultimately affected their lives and the lives of their children. Now, onto the final arc!

#rurouni kenshin #at arm's length #kenkao

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 19

Let’s get this angst train rolling. FF.net and AO3 links here.

Shattered Reality

“You don’t have to close the Akabeko!” Yahiko was being belligerent; so far, he had shot down every idea for his birthday plans. He resumed sweeping the restaurant floor with extra vigor. “It’s just another day.”

“It’s only for one night.” Tae chided. “Business is good, and everyone needs a break. Including you, Yahiko, you’ve been such a big help. But if you feel like it’s too much, it doesn’t have to be extravagant. Just dinner and a night out in Asakusa, before summer ends. The fireflies will be gone soon, and it would be nice to see them one last time. Right, Tsubame?”

She nodded, smiling at Yahiko. “It would be fun…if you want to.”

At last, his resistance crumbled and he muttered. “I guess it’s fine.”

“There we go, Yahiko!” Kaoru beamed, ruffling his hair. “I knew you’d come around.”

“Aw, come on! Don’t treat me like a little kid!” He looked desperately to Koshijiro. “You saw me earlier, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. You did very well.” He smiled at the boy, despite the flicker of unease.

In addition to Kaoru’s teaching, Himura was now providing training exercises to Yahiko. That was new. Yahiko was eager to practice his offensive maneuvers, even though he couldn’t break through Himura’s one-handed defense yet. Koshijiro had heard from Kaoru, but he hadn’t witnessed a session until today.

Sagara also did for the first time, and he had sprawled on the porch, cheering them on equally. When it ended, he said. “Kenshin, I didn’t know you were passing on Hiten Mitsurugi!”

“This one isn’t.” Himura replied, and Yahiko had exclaimed in protest.

“You’re not?! That’s what I thought we were doing! What the heck?”

“But you’ve become stronger through Kamiya Kasshin.” Himura gently countered. “This one thought to help you, in any way he can. Was that wrong?”

“In other words, you’ll have to beat him with Kamiya Kasshin.” Sagara added.

Yahiko was still flustered, but he couldn’t refute the point. “Well, I appreciate it. So, we’re still training tomorrow too!”

And then, they went their separate ways: Sagara to the clinic for a follow-up visit, Yahiko to work, and Kaoru to visit Tae and Tsubame. Koshijiro had tagged along because he hadn’t eaten lunch yet, but his immediate tasks were completed and he planned to return to the dojo first. Himura was doing the laundry, falling back into the comfortable routine of housework. It suited him, and his smile never faltered. And yet…Koshijiro couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.

He ate quickly and excused himself. “Asakusa will be nice. The plan is for Saturday?”

“Yes, because that’s the last day of the month.” Kaoru confirmed. “I’ll be home by sunset, Otou-san.”

“Alright. It’s getting dark earlier, so if you run late, ask one of my colleagues to escort you. I’ll see you later.” He patted her head. She seemed embarrassed, especially when Yahiko’s derisive laughter drifted over.

While he walked, he considered how to approach Himura. They’d be alone, so they could talk freely. He had no doubt that Himura would be honest, but how to start the conversation was difficult. It was only a sense of intuition on Koshijiro’s part, that Himura was acting carefully. As if he couldn’t relax. Why else would he offer to train Yahiko, after all this time? And for that matter, they still had to continue their discussion regarding Kaoru…

That hope was dashed when Sagara called out, and the young man sprinted to catch up. “Hey, old man. Heading back already?”

“Yes, I am. Are you coming too?”

“Yeah, I was told to rest, so I might as well hang around. There’s yokan in the well, and I told Kenshin to save some for me.”

A few paces later, Koshijiro remarked. “You were the last one to leave. How was he?”

“You’ve noticed it, right?” Sagara meaningfully glanced towards him. “It’s like he’s drawn a line and he isn’t willing to step over it.”

“That’s an astute description.”

“The fox agreed, when I said it.”

“I was thinking of mentioning it to him.”

“Uh, I don’t think you’re the right person for that.”

“Why not?”

“If I were in his shoes and something was bothering me, I wouldn’t want to look bad in front of the father of the girl I love.” Sagara gave Koshijiro a friendly smack between the shoulders. “You know it’s true.”

Koshijiro certainly remembered that particular feeling, but he maintained a neutral expression. “Then, would you talk to him?”

“I’m waiting for the right moment, it’s seriously bothering me. Jou-chan too, but she’s not going to bring it up unless he does. She understands he won’t leave; she’s changed since our trip to Kyoto.” Sagara’s grin widened. “And you’ve changed too, huh? You were all about distance, with the arm’s length rule and hovering around.”

He evaded. “I haven’t abolished the rule.”

“No, but I’m counting down the days until you do. They’re good for each other, you’re just digging in your heels. Kenshin might look composed, but I swear he’s dying of blue balls.”

“Sagara-san, that is very inappropriate.” Koshijiro sternly admonished.

“What, your former students never talked like I did?”

“They did, and I was your age once; I’m well aware of what young men discuss. But Kaoru is my daughter.”

“And Kenshin is my best friend. Of course, I’m taking his side.”

They were approaching the house, and Koshijiro unlocked the gate. “Well, we’re both looking out for them. We can leave it at that.”

“Sure, sure.”

In the yard, Himura was watering the row of lilies, and he looked up with a smile. “This one thought he heard your voices. Welcome home.”

“Yes, we’re back.” Koshijiro nodded, studying him carefully.

Sagara hurried to the well, where the yokan was chilled, and eagerly recovered the dessert. “Alright, snack time! You better join me inside, or I’ll eat it all.” He removed his shoes and jumped onto the porch, before heading in.

“Kamiya-dono…”

Koshijiro turned to Himura. “Yes?”

He visibly swallowed, glancing away and murmuring. “Dinner will be cold udon. Is there a specific topping you would like?”

He’s still holding back. What is he thinking of, to make him so troubled?

Koshijiro held his gaze for a second longer, before gesturing to the sliding door. “I believe we have some eggs and I prefer them soft-boiled. Any of the leftover vegetables should be eaten too. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” His words contained a double meaning. In response, Himura only inclined his head and went into the house.

Half the yokan was already gone when they rejoined Sagara. He was shuffling a deck for a Western card game, because he claimed that practice would help him win big at the gambling dens. Learning the rules proved to be a distraction. Time flew by easily, though Himura didn’t let down his guard again. Koshijiro kept a close eye, but that invisible distance remained. Then, Kaoru and Yahiko announced their return, and the thread was left loose.

***

Some progress had been made on the investigation. Sawagejo reported that all of the higher-ups of the Chinese enterprise were from Shanghai, but he was unable to discern a further hierarchy amongst them. If anything, they seemed to undermine each other. At this, Saito had grimaced.

“These are still the subordinates. The leader isn’t here.”

“But Shanghai is a new place of interest.” Koshijiro commented. “Could you notify your contacts now?”

“I was intending to.” He sent the telegram within the hour, before tasking Sawagejo to gather information from the streets. “Even I know that Shanghai has a notorious crime rate. See if you can acquire specifics about who’s active and dealing with Japan.”

“Sure, I can do that.” With a two-fingered salute, he strode out. Then, he doubled back, hissing. “Oh, Kamiya-san, don’t forget about the balloons!”

“Don’t worry, I was about to share.” That was a breakthrough that Koshijiro had discovered in the morning. Under Saito’s narrow gaze, he relayed the conversation he had with Sawagejo on the train. With his downtime, he had looked into imports of large luxury items and came across a shipment of hot air balloons. They were in Osaka but today, four of the balloons had been removed from the stock, sailing towards Yokohama.

“So, you think Shishio’s backer is into hot air balloons?” Saito deadpanned.

“We don’t know this person’s motives. But at the moment, I’m not interested in speculating. The ship is going to stop for fuel in Tokyo. If the balloons never make it to Yokohama…someone will come looking.” He said purposefully.

By the glimmer in Saito’s eyes, it was an amenable idea. “I’ll send a team to collect.”

That was the last update, and Koshijiro left the station feeling optimistic. He could enjoy dinner and the trip to Asakusa with a clear head.

A new sign by the Akabeko’s entrance declared that they would be closing early. He had arrived with thirty minutes to spare. He was about to announce he was present, when Tae raised her voice.

“You two were finally doing well! You should stop by more often, I’ll give you a makeover.” She was examining Kaoru’s face, to her protest. “Not a lot of makeup, of course, you’re naturally beautiful already, but just a touch so you don’t look too sweaty-”

“Tae! You don’t need to worry about me! And what about yourself?! You’re twenty-nine, aren’t you?” Her outburst caused Tae to fall silent, and while her expression wasn’t visible from Koshijiro’s perspective, her stiff posture conveyed it anyway.

Tsubame gave a cry of horror. “Kaoru-san, you shouldn’t say that out loud!”

“…Is this a bad time?” Koshijiro ventured. Obviously, the girls were having a spirited discussion.

“Not at all, Kamiya-san!” Tae whirled around, her face flushed. “You’re right on time!”

Kaoru was also flustered, and she peered behind Koshijiro. “Hi, Otou-san. Oh, Kenshin’s not with you?”

“No, I came directly from work.” He scanned the dining area. Himura was the sole absence; even Sagara wasn’t late.

“That’s odd.” Takani tilted her head in concern. “I was at the clinic all day, but I thought Ken-san was at the dojo. I wonder what’s keeping him.”

Koshijiro took a seat. “Well, there’s still time. He must be on an errand.”

The front curtain lifted and they automatically looked, but it wasn’t Himura. A large man walked in, his bulky frame taking up the entire aisle. But Koshijiro’s gaze was caught on the man’s right arm, where there was no hand. He had been amputated above the wrist, the stump wrapped in winding cloth. He had coarse features, which contorted in brief surprise upon noticing Koshijiro’s loss.

“Welcome!” Tae greeted the customer. “What can I get you?”

“The cheapest meal.” The man lumbered to the nearest table and remained quiet. Occasionally, he glanced towards the back of the restaurant, directly at Koshijiro. Then, he remarked. “When did you lose your arm?”

“About a year ago, in Satsuma.” The admission felt odd. A year had passed, but it felt like time had flown so quickly.

The man didn’t respond, not giving a word regarding how he’d lost his. Most likely, he wasn’t coping. With the bandages, how recently was he injured? And he was sitting alone. Koshijiro had thought it was fortunate that he returned alive, but he was even more grateful that he had the dojo and his family. A reason was needed to live on, and this stranger had not found it yet.

Tae exited the kitchen and Yahiko did a double take at what she was carrying. “Huh? You’re giving him the salmon set? But soba is cheapest…”

“It’s alright, I’m charging him the price of soba.”

“Don’t do it.” Sagara cut in with a grimace. “Pitying him is more insulting than buckwheat noodles.”

“It’s not pity. With his condition, he’s obviously a war veteran, like Kamiya-san.” Tae looked to Koshijiro, sympathy in her gaze. “It’s the least I can do, to repay such sacrifice.”

“That’s kind of you, Sekihara-san.”

Sagara wasn’t moved. “Well, I wonder how he’ll take it…”

They probably weren’t discreet, as they watched Tae serve the man. A pause followed, before he said. “I ordered the cheapest meal…but I’ll accept your generosity, ma’am.”

Tsubame sighed in relief, while Kaoru nudged Sagara’s side. “See? Kindness is always recognized for what it is. I don’t think you’ve recovered from Kyoto yet.”

“That’s what tonight’s for, isn’t it?” But he cracked a smile.

Tae was bringing the customer more tea, when he stood. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“I don’t want to impose. You’re closing soon.” He glanced again at Koshijiro and slightly nodded. Then, he left his money on the table and exited.

Only a moment later, Himura slipped through the curtain. They must have run into each other outside the building, and Himura was still looking in the stranger’s direction. He didn’t turn towards them, until Kaoru approached.

“Kenshin?”

His expression was conflicted, tinged with melancholy. Or was it regret? “…This one was helping a lost grandfather. He asked for directions downtown.”

“That’s sweet of you. And you’re just on time.” She led him to their table with a smile, which he tentatively returned. When he met Koshijiro’s gaze, his eyes dropped to the empty sleeve. Usually, he avoided looking at it out of courtesy; he was definitely out of sorts.

The dinner menu was an assortment of Yahiko’s favorite foods, and he asked for multiple helpings, which pleased Tae to no end. After they finished eating, she sent the staff to their respective homes and locked the Akabeko. The light of the setting sun reflected off the red paint, lending a vibrant glow to the building. It looked beautiful.

Then, they kicked off the evening and the plan quickly deviated. They took a detour to the Yamashita Monnai Museum, to see the exotic animals that had been housed there since the Vienna Exposition five years ago. There was a wide variety. Familiar rabbits and dogs. More exotic animals like wildcats and peacocks. There were a few that none of them had ever seen, creatures called buffalo as well as small black birds that mimicked voices. Yahiko was most excited about the bear enclosure, though the bears were already sleeping. However, he watched them with bright eyes, whispering excitedly when an ear flicked or a dreamy snort escaped. Tsubame seemed to observe his expression more than the animals.

When the museum’s visiting hours ended, they resumed their trek to Asakusa, heading for Hanayashiki. It was a flower garden, but there were new “play machines”. However, when they arrived, the machines were already being used by other guests, pushing against the metal limbs in small movements.

“What do you think, Yahiko? Are you impressed?” Sagara teased him.

“Nah. I’ve already seen crazier things happen.” Yahiko shrugged, unfazed. “Since we’re here, we can just walk around.”

None of the plays seemed to catch his attention, and the raunchier side of Asakusa was out of the question. Eventually, they meandered to a quiet field, away from the city lights. The last of the fireflies were emerging, lazily floating in the air. The girls strode further into the tall grass, but when Himura tried to follow Kaoru, Sagara clasped his shoulder.

“So, are you gonna share why you’re so gloomy? You can hide it from them, but the old man and I can tell.”

“Me too!” Yahiko added. “You’re a lot worse; any more and you’ll be like Aoshi.”

“Misao-dono wouldn’t enjoy hearing that.” Himura deflected, but he caved. Closing his eyes, he then said. “Kamiya-dono, you lost your arm in an explosion. But how would you feel if someone was responsible?”

“For my left arm?” He paused. “Technically, someone fired the cannon in Satsuma, but I understand that’s not what you mean. You knew that man in the Akabeko, didn’t you?”

“Yes. In the battle of Toba Fushimi, we were on opposing sides. This one cut off his right hand, and he begged for the end, to have a warrior’s death. But this one could not give it. This one was already tired of killing, and told him to live peacefully in the new era. Even as this one walked away, he couldn’t accept it. This one was glad to see him alive after ten years…but it seemed as if he didn’t realize this one was Battousai.”

The wind was picking up, bringing the chill of night. It was getting late. Koshijiro replied. “To answer your question, I wouldn’t blame the other person. However, this isn’t about my reaction. It’s about yours. It was unexpected to meet the man again, and your guilt has returned. I’d like to ask you this. Which would you have regretted more: cutting off his hand or killing him?”

“Killing him.” He readily said.

“Then, your decision was sound. And this man was alive. He could have killed himself in the past ten years, or succumbed to vice. He seemed polite to Sekihara-san. Even though he requested the cheapest meal at the Akabeko, he didn’t drink anything stronger than tea. Those are good signs.” He left out the observation about the man’s wrapped stump, but that wasn’t helpful now.

“He ate everything too.” Yahiko pointed out. “I guess that counts as gratitude.”

Himura hesitated. “Still…”

“I didn’t fight like you two had, and I get why you’d worry, Kenshin.” Sagara said. “But overthinking will bog you down. You’ve earned the peace you brought. Do you see the shadow of war in any of that?” He nodded to the girls.

Tsubame had managed to cup one between her hands, and Tae congratulated her. Takani was proper as ever, though a peaceful expression had settled on her face. And with a carefree smile, Kaoru lifted her hand, allowing a firefly to take off from her index finger.

“No.” Himura softly said. “Not at all.”

Then, the moment was shattered by a loud bang. Stronger than fireworks. Koshijiro froze. He could never forget such a sound.

A cannon was just fired. But from where…and what did it hit?

He locked eyes with Himura, who was just as worried. “The Armstrong cannon. Are there military exercises this late at night?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” A sense of foreboding overcame him. “We should head back anyway. Kaoru!” He urged the girls over, and as a group, they followed the road into town.

The bells were ringing, alerting the fire brigade was active. A chorus of voices rose from behind them, and they squeezed together on the sidewalk, waiting for the first responders to pass through. In the lanterns’ light, Koshijiro caught sight of familiar faces. He called out. “Chief Uramura?”

“Officer Kamiya!” The chief broke away from the rest of the officers. “It’s good you’re here. We need every man available.”

“I heard the cannon. Do we know anything?”

“The shot was fired from Mt. Ueno, and it was a direct hit on one of the restaurants. The Akabeko.”

Immediately, Koshijiro looked to Tae. Her face was drained of color. “My Akabeko?”

The chief was still talking. “The fire brigade’s on its way, but I’m sorry. It doesn’t look good. We’re setting a perimeter around Mt. Ueno and telling everyone to take shelter in case of more shots. This is an attack upon the city.”

“This one will go to the mountain.” Himura spoke up, his expression grim. Then, he sprinted off. “We can rejoin at the Akabeko!”

“Hold on, I’m coming too!” Sagara shouted, racing after him.

Yahiko refused to stay behind and he trailed in their wake. “Wait for me!”

“Yahiko, it’s too dangerous!” Kaoru warned but he ignored her. She blew out a breath in exasperation. “Well, I’m his teacher, so I’m going after him. Otou-san, I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful.” He watched her go, before escorting the remaining women to the Akabeko.

Even from the end of the street, there was a noticeable gap between the buildings adjacent to the restaurant. As they approached, the wreckage became visible. The beams were snapped, the second floor had collapsed onto the ground floor. Some officers were picking through the utter mess, clinking dish shards as they went. They were walking on the roof, Koshijiro realized, and everything underneath had been crushed. His heart sank.

Takani murmured the sentiment aloud. “How horrible.”

Tae cried out and she lifted a piece of wood from the dusty ground. It was the Akabeko’s sign, or the legible half of it. Tears welled in her eyes. “Gone…it’s completely destroyed. Who could have done this…?” She hugged the sign, and Tsubame clung to her waist, holding back sobs of her own.

“We’ll find out.” Koshijiro grimaced. He raised his voice, informing the officers of the owner’s presence.

They relayed the details, that it was fortunate nobody was inside or a fire hadn’t broken out. They were still searching for the cannonball. Tae denied having enemies, and doubted her competitors would have access to a cannon. While she spoke, Kaoru returned, one hand in Yahiko’s collar. He was staggering like a drunkard.

“Yahiko-kun, are you alright?” Tsubame gasped.

“He’s fine, he just overexerted himself. Kenshin and Sano outpaced him.” Kaoru explained, and she went to Tae, drawing her into a comforting embrace. “I’m so sorry. The two of you can stay at the dojo.”

“Thank you, but I’ll only trouble you for tonight.” Tae said, wiping her eyes. “In the morning, I’m going to Kyoto, to my parents’ house. I need to tell them about what’s happened. Tsubame-chan? You’ve been staying with me. Are you returning to your grandparents?”

“They live in Kawasaki…” She trailed off. “But I’d rather stay here.”

Yahiko had recovered his strength, and he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s better if you stick around. Are you okay?”

She nodded, hiccupping. “Thank you.”

It was already close to midnight, but they lingered at the ruined Akabeko, until they discerned Sagara and Himura’s silhouettes. Both of them seemed weary, especially Himura. He tersely explained. “The shot definitely came from Mt. Ueno. They haven’t found anyone yet.”

They went home, feeling on edge. But they safely reached the gate, without hearing cannonfire again. Tae and Tsubame were ushered into the house, Takani taking the lead in preparing their room.

However, Koshijiro didn’t remove his shoes. “I have to stop by the station. If there’s another attack, I should be prepared as backup.”

“I understand.” Kaoru gave a brave smile. “Are you sleeping there overnight?” It wasn’t the first time he had, but it had been years.

“I’ll try and sleep in between, but unless they dismiss me earlier, I’ll be home in the morning.” He waved and she responded in kind.

It was eerily quiet outside, and he did his best to hurry. The police station was bustling, and Koshijiro spotted the chief, standing in a corner. “Any news?”

Chief Uramura reiterated some of the story but he also handed over a paper, with sloppily written kanji. Ink was splattered across the margins. “And this was left underneath the fallen holy tree.”

Koshijiro frowned. “Jinchuu? Not Tenchuu?” The latter he knew was the creed of the Ishin Shishi, to deliver Heaven’s Judgment. But this was… “Judgment from a person.”

“That’s exactly what Himura-san said, when he saw it.”

And yet, neither he nor Sagara had mentioned it. A sudden thought struck Koshijiro. Did Himura have an idea of the perpetrator? He’d have to ask in private.

He did stay overnight, but to his relief, there were no more explosions. Through the glass windows, he watched the sun rise on an uneventful morning. The slight warmth caressed his face, almost reassuringly.

***

However, to Koshijiro’s dismay, the investigation was rapidly closed. The cannon and note were attributed to rebel samurai, discontented with the government. The Akabeko was destroyed because of a misfire, and there was no foul play involved. Koshijiro tried to push for further investigation, that it had only been three days, but he was outnumbered. He didn’t want to bring up his suspicion that Himura knew the attacker, not yet. He clenched his jaw as the case file was shut. He had to walk out, he was incredibly furious.

Leaning against the closest streetlamp, Saito removed his cigarette from his mouth and intoned. “You’re not satisfied either. So? What are you going to do?”

“Continue the investigation. I have a feeling there’s a point of connection between the cannon and the other person we’re tracking down.” An Armstrong cannon was from the West, and as a weapon, it had more in common with Shishio’s warship than anything as of yet.

“Then, we’re in agreement. Your toys are safe, by the way. No takers yet.” The balloons were in a warehouse by the docks.

“Thank you for letting me know.” They exchanged nods, and he walked on, left with his thoughts.

Jinchuu had been attributed to the rebels, and yet, there was no record of its mention in previous conflicts. Or in any previous context, for that matter. Was it a budding organization, a new banner that criminals were gathering under? Himura said he suspected the one-handed customer, but his admission had brimmed with uncertainty. Regardless, the man was still unaccounted for, as well as the cannon. Koshijiro did not like the situation.

When he arrived home, Kaoru greeted him. “Otou-san, welcome back.” Something in her tone tipped him off, and he stared at her.

“Are you alright?”

She bit her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Did Sano or Kenshin say anything to you about brothels?”

That was the last topic of discussion he expected. Abruptly, he recalled Sagara’s comment about Himura’s…potential frustration. His mood soured further. “…No. Is there a reason you’re asking?”

“Well, I heard them whispering about a map and I confronted them. Sano said they were talking about brothels to visit tonight. Kenshin was embarrassed though. I don’t know whether it’s because they really aren’t going to brothels or because I caught them.” She crossed her arms, a worried crease forming between her eyebrows. “I think Kenshin’s hiding something. Probably not to worry us, but…anyway! Yahiko begged me to teach him Hadome and Hawatari.”

“He’s ambitious.”

“More like, he’s getting ahead of himself! He’s only interested because he wants to be stronger. But strength isn’t everything, and it’s definitely not the right mindset for the succession techniques. He’s ten years old, he needs to think deeper about what swordsmanship is. I told him that, so he can reflect.”

He smiled. “Well said, Kamiya-sensei.”

She flashed an unamused look, but she didn’t protest like before. Good. She was fitting into her role as the head instructor. “So, Yahiko might be quieter than usual. Otherwise, today was fine.”

They went inside, and Tsubame was sitting at the table, sewing neat little stitches. She ducked her head. “Kamiya-san, welcome back.” She had received permission from her family to stay at the dojo, until Tae returned and found a new place to live.

“Yes, I’m home. I see you’ve found something to do.”

“I lost my practice piece, but Kaoru-san gave me one of hers.”

“Actually, my father used to sew too.” Kaoru cheekily said.

“Eh?”

“I wasn’t very good.” He deflected. “My mother taught me, but I never could match her skill. Kaoru had already surpassed my limited ability when she was your age. If you need more fabric, we have plenty.”

Eventually, they regrouped for dinner, and it was a subdued meal. Sagara skipped out afterwards, claiming a get-together with his gambling acquaintances, although Himura stayed. Koshijiro caught the relief in his daughter’s expression and realized he felt the same. Not that he really believed Himura was a philanderer, but...he wouldn’t have approved. Still, the map was never brought up. Unless, Himura was waiting to rejoin Sagara later?

Koshijiro made the excuse that he was turning in early, but he occupied himself with reading in his room. While turning the pages, he listened for anyone moving about, and the minutes passed in silence. It was an hour away from midnight, when there was a racket outside. Someone was banging against the gate. He was out of bed in an instant, and as he reached the front steps, he made out the silhouettes of Himura, Kaoru, and Yahiko.

A muffled voice drifted from beyond the wooden slats. “Please…Maekawa dojo…”

It was a blur, as they opened the gate and brought their visitor to the yard. Koshijiro vaguely recognized one of Maekawa’s students, but he was terribly beaten. Blood stained his gi and hakama, his face turning blue and purple with bruises.

“Was it another dojo challenge?!” Yahiko inquired, as Kaoru began wrapping his wounds.

“No…from the start…he came…to kill.” The young man fought for breath. “Help them…everyone’s gonna die!”

His friend’s dojo was under attack, and by the student’s condition, it was brutal. Dread filled Koshijiro. However, before he could speak, Himura was walking past the gate. Kaoru called his name and Yahiko started after him, but he looked back with an agitated expression they’d never seen before.

“No, stay here! Lock the gate and don’t let anyone inside!”

With a frown, Koshijiro argued. “I should go. Maekawa-sensei is my friend.”

But Himura had sprinted off. Kaoru seemed torn, as she helped the student drink some water. “I’ll watch the house with Tsubame and Yahiko. Otou-san, can you catch up with Kenshin?”

“I will try, and I can find some officers while I’m in town.”

After the gate was locked behind him, he ran as fast as he could. The path to the Maekawa dojo was blocked by the police, which was a hopeful sign that the attacker was under control. Koshijiro slowed to a stop, easily tracking Himura’s bright hair amidst the chaos. Sagara was at the scene too, drawn by the commotion.

“There’s Kamiya-san!” Shinichi’s voice rang out, and Koshijiro turned towards a cluster of his rookies. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

“What’s happening?”

“The Maekawa dojo was attacked by a strange man, the students who escaped didn’t recognize him. Most of them have been sent to the Oguni clinic, along with the master’s wife. But the master and his senior students are still inside with the culprit! We can’t get close enough to arrest him. He’s strong…” Shinichi gulped.

“It’s only one person? What weapons does he have?”

Fujisawa replied. “Nothing, just his fists! But we can’t open fire, not with the hostages.”

“That’s absolutely right. Who’s taken charge here?” The rookies averted their gazes, and Koshijiro was stunned. “No one? Where’s the chief?”

“That’s the thing…” Shimizu carefully said. “We sent a messenger to his house, but it’s already been half an hour. And Assistant Chief Inspector Fujita was called away earlier, to a brawl on the docks.”

“Something’s not right.” The assault on the dojo was looking less like an isolated incident.

Then, Himura spoke. In the dim light, his features were strangely gaunt. “This one will find the chief. Kamiya-dono, please recover the hostages.”

“And I’ll take care of this bastard!” Sagara jerked his head towards the dojo. “If it’s a fistfight he wants, he’ll get it.”

Koshijiro glanced back at Himura, but he was already gone. He shook his head; he had to focus on saving Maekawa and his students. “Bring me paper! I’m going to sketch the dojo’s structure. The first priority is rescue!”

As he drew, the rest of the police gathered around. He emphasized the points of entry, where they could safely carry out Maekawa, the ten students, and any fallen officers. Sagara would draw the attacker’s attention, luring him into the courtyard and buying time for the second wave of police to rush in. Guns would be permitted, to Koshijiro’s reluctance. This was the last resort, and he hoped that it didn’t progress to shooting.

“Sagara-san, good luck.”

“Don’t worry, old man. I got this.” He grinned, but it was strained. With a loud shout, he pushed past the officers trembling at the doorway.

Outside, Koshijiro pointed to the opening. “Move!” And this was the worst part: tallying and triaging. The first two victims were police, they must have been closest. But the students were worse off, barely breathing, and their features rendered unrecognizable by swelling and blood.

“Take them to the hospital, it’s closer.” Koshijiro ordered. He counted again. Ten students, eight officers. Then, the last of the rescue team carried out the final man on a stretcher. “Maekawa-sensei!”

For a moment, he feared that his friend was dead. Blood was smeared at the corners of his mouth; his clavicle had been snapped, a gleam that could only be bone. He immediately searched for a pulse. It was a faint flutter, and air was rattling in Maekawa’s throat. Part of him wanted to travel with Maekawa to the hospital, but he quelled that wish. Whoever did this had to be apprehended.

Koshijiro bowed and entered the Maekawa dojo. He took a shinai off the ruined floor, marching for the courtyard along with the second wave. They were the best marksmen among the officers tonight, and he instructed them to make their shots non-lethal, aiming for the attacker’s limbs.

Sagara was still standing, to Koshijiro’s relief. However, his right hand was in terrible condition. Had he overexerted himself again? And there was the attacker, a rough-looking man with metal gauntlets over his forearms. The right appeared uneven in comparison, a piece missing above the knuckles. Then, Sagara staggered backwards.

Cold rationality overcame Koshijiro. “Ready. Aim. Fire!” The first four shots were delivered, but as the smoke cleared, the man had his gauntlet raised, not a scratch on him.

A guttural laugh escaped him. “See? Not even bullets can pierce through my invulnerable gauntlets!”

“You sure about that? I don’t think your right one’s invulnerable anymore.” Sagara wheezed, but his mouth was turned up in a smirk.

The other man exuded killing intent, taking a step towards Sagara. Then, there was a commotion behind Koshijiro and he had told the men to stand aside just in time, before something crashed through. A bulky person, whose jaw inexplicably unhinged, and Koshijiro couldn’t fathom what he was looking at. A dark hood emerged, a white skull pattern resembling a face.

The voice was like the creaking of ancient wooden beams. “Banjin, retreat. It is now time for Jinchuu.”

That word again!

Banjin must have been the subordinate, and he protested. “Get out of here, Gein! The winner hasn’t been decided yet. I’m going to kill him!”

“I was leaving.” Then, the figure leapt out of the bulky person. Gein was thin, skeletal even, and landed silently on the dojo’s roof. “If you don’t want to be in the middle of it, you should get out while you can.”

Banjin sulked, following suit, but he taunted Sagara for good measure. “I’ll stop playing for today! You better thank me for sparing your life!”

“What the hell are you talking about? This was a draw.” Despite his injuries, Sagara was laidback. “How disappointing, you didn’t get the precious victory you wanted.”

Banjin fumed. “Just you wait, I’ll kill you if I see you again!”

At this point, they had finished reloading, and Koshijiro ordered another volley. But Gein and Banjin slipped away, before they could fire again. Koshijiro clenched his jaw in frustration. At least, there was…whatever they’d left behind. Not a person, but too realistic to be a costume. The mouth was still open, the teeth grotesque. As Koshijiro drew closer, he heard a faint hissing sound. Then, he noticed the smoke. He locked eyes with Sagara, in sudden realization.

“Everyone, get back!” Sagara yelled.

“Move!” Koshijiro urged and the officers scrambled away. “Sagara-san! What are you doing?!”

He viciously kicked the stomach, and as the body recoiled, a round sphere launched into the air. The same skull pattern was on it, the fuse already short. “Get down!”

They pressed themselves to the grass, and Koshijiro saw the Maekawa dojo’s roof light up. The bomb detonated, the noise reverberating in every muscle. Wood splinters and ceramic tile rained down. When the debris settled, Koshijiro called for a check-in. “Sound off!” Thankfully, everyone was alright. But the dojo’s roof was wiped out, the upper floor a certain mess. What was he going to tell Maekawa?

Sagara grimaced. “First, the Akabeko, and now this. They won’t stop unless they blow up everything!”

The Akabeko. The Maekawa dojo. Chief Uramura’s house. Places related to Koshijiro and Kaoru…to Himura. Judgment from a person. Jinchuu was not a grievance against the government.

“Jinchuu is a personal grudge, isn’t it?”

Sagara must have decided that it was no use keeping the secret, because he nodded. “The map was for marking places related to Kenshin. When he saw the word ‘Jinchuu’, he already understood someone wanted revenge against him. The one-handed veteran for sure. Those people, Inui Banjin and Gein, must be his partners in crime.”

“Were you able to discern why your opponent came to the dojo?”

“His master challenged Kenshin in the past and lost. But it’s not like he’s seeking his master’s honor; he just didn’t want to be seen as a loser because his master was defeated.” Sagara frowned. “Someone like that doesn’t deserve to fight Kenshin.”

“Someone like that should have been arrested. We can’t let them escape again.” He looked at Sagara’s bloody hand. His fingers hadn’t moved yet, which was concerning. “You should go to the hospital too.”

“I’m fine.”

“At the very least, you should see Takani-san.”

“She’s probably gonna murder me herself.” He muttered. “And did we just see a guy…come out of another guy?”

“I believe so, unless my old eyes deceive me.” Koshijiro wearily said. “But I suspect that the larger one wasn’t alive to begin with. A puppet of sorts, on a larger scale.”

“Crazy shit, huh? Oh, hey. It’s still here.” Sagara kicked the head with an irritated growl. Koshijiro winced, but nothing happened. “We gotta do something, old man, or we’re stuck in a corner!”

“We need answers from Himura-san. I understand he feels shame and guilt, but I think that if our safety is threatened, he’ll act righteously.”

And then, he heard it. The sound of an Armstrong cannon. Distant, but it must have hit within the city. The chief’s house! Koshijiro mustered the remaining energy he had, to make his way there. Sagara tagged along, declaring that his injuries could wait for a few more minutes. They arrived to a grim scene; the fire brigade was extinguishing the burning remains of the chief’s house. The recovering messenger informed them that the unconscious chief had been sent to Dr. Gensai’s clinic for his injuries. His wife and daughter had gone to the station.

“And no sign of Kenshin either.” Sagara grumbled. “I guess I’ll start looking at the clinic.”

“Please, get treatment too.”

He sighed at the insistence. “I guess, if there’s no one else in worse shape. I’ll swing by the dojo in the morning.”

However, Koshijiro stopped at his workplace, intending to speak to Chief Uramura’s family. One of the rookies, Kobayashi, provided the update. “The assistant chief’s returned, and he’s questioning them now. The chief’s wife seems like she’s coping well, but his daughter was practically hysterical when they came in. From what I could tell, they don’t know why they were attacked.”

Koshijiro refrained from saying anything more, until Saito exited the interrogation room. He was uncharacteristically harried, most likely because of the interview, and dug in his pocket for cigarettes. He scarcely acknowledged Koshijiro, intoning. “In my office, Kamiya.”

Dutifully, he followed, and Saito slammed the door shut. Koshijiro sat in the available spare chair, which felt brand new. “This night has been an ordeal. Is your family safe?”

“Tokio is capable of protecting the boys. They were fine, after I left the docks. You should know there wasn’t a brawl. The balloons were stolen back.” Saito held up a hand. “But I anticipated that and Sawagejo’s on the streets, confirming the new location. One of the warehouses. We’ll raid it once we have accurate details. Currently, we need to focus on the Maekawa dojo and the chief’s house.”

Koshijiro provided the timeline of events and what he’d witnessed. “Inui Banjin and Gein were the names of the dojo’s attackers.”

“And according to the chief’s wife and daughter, they were ambushed by Otowa Hyoko.” Three had been identified, how many more were there? “What else?”

“I don’t know if it was the same Armstrong cannon, but there was another blast-”

“No, it was the same. But you’re not telling the whole truth. What’s the motivation? The sukiyaki restaurant, the kenjutsu dojo, the chief’s house.” Saito lifted a finger for each location. “All of these are connected to you and yours.”

Koshijiro stared at him, refusing to flinch. “I don’t know of anyone who would attack these places, because of me or my daughter.”

“Then, it’s because of Battousai?” Saito had cut to the core of the matter, and Koshijiro was unable to deny it. “It doesn’t matter. Evil is evil, and needs to be slain immediately. We have work to accomplish, especially since many of our men are out of commission.” His responsibilities must have increased drastically, since Chief Uramura was incapacitated.

Koshijiro was dismissed, and the noise of the station filled his ears. He offered his condolences to the chief’s wife, who thanked him. The daughter was sullen, she only was about twelve or thirteen, and grudgingly bowed when her mother chastised her attitude. Then, he was caught up in the investigations’ paperwork and he didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning. The sky was just beginning to brighten, heralding the sun.

As he walked towards home, he squinted. Was that…Yahiko? Standing at the gate? “Yahiko, were you unable to sleep?”

Yahiko stubbornly shook his head, and in the growing light, dark circles appeared under his eyes. And his shinai was strapped to his back. “I’m keeping watch.”

“…Were you out here all night?”

Before he could reply, there was a shout from the house. Kaoru sprinted out, with Tsubame in her wake. They had come to the same conclusion, Kaoru declaring. “Yahiko, I can’t believe you! You never went to bed?!”

“This is the only thing I can do! I can’t keep up with Kenshin or Sano, I can’t fight alongside them!” His voice was choked with tears, and although he was trying to hold on to his dignity, his words were uneven. “S-so, I have to protect the dojo while they’re gone. I can’t do nothing! There’s s-something, something bad going on. I can’t be weak. I…I gotta try all I can!”

Kaoru seemed struck by his words, and she pensively stared at him.

Koshijiro clasped his shoulder. “You did well, Yahiko. But it’s morning, and the danger’s passed for now. Let’s go inside, have breakfast, and I’ll share what happened. We can continue waiting for Sagara-san and Himura-san, while we eat.”

At his words, Kaoru recovered and she guided Yahiko by the elbow. “Otou-san’s right. And you can only be strong on a full stomach. Thanks for looking out for us.”

“I’ll start cooking.” Tsubame offered. “I’m not as good as Tae-san but I’ll do my best too. Yahiko-kun…thank you.”

He sniffled, burying his face in his sleeves. The tips of his ears were red, and he averted everyone’s gazes until they were together at the table.

Breakfast was a light meal, but it was already mid-morning when Sagara knocked on the gate. Takani was with him, disdainfully eyeing at what he’d brought. The costume had been dragged from the Maekawa dojo, and without a person inside, it was a leathery bulbous sack. He hauled the costume into a corner of the backyard.

“Did you have to bring it?” Takani complained, as she set down her medicine box.

“I wanted to show Kaoru and Yahiko. This is Iwanbo, isn’t it? Look, I’ll try getting inside to see if they can remember.”

“That’s disgusting.”

In the end, Sagara didn’t follow through, and he didn’t have to. Yahiko blinked in confusion at the costume, but Kaoru gasped when she saw the distorted face. “Ah, that’s the guy whose head turned completely around! Misao and I thought that was weird. It makes much more sense, that it wasn’t a real person at all. I wonder if the rest of the Ten Swords knew.”

“I can ask Sawagejo.” Koshijiro said. Then, the pieces fell together. “The warship’s backer and the culprit responsible for these attacks are one and the same. Having this Iwanbo in the Ten Swords would ensure that Shishio was utilizing their investment appropriately.” And the theft of the hot air balloons was partly a diversion, to draw the assistant chief away. The timing had not been a coincidence.

“So, even before the fight in Kyoto, they were already laying the groundwork for their own scheme.” Sagara scowled.

“And what could that be?” Takani interjected. “If there’s something you know, spit it out!” She smacked his uninjured arm.

“Hey, you know I can’t use my right hand!”

“And you’re lucky I was able to salvage what you have left!”

Koshijiro sensed his daughter’s gaze. She wasn’t angry, only inquisitive. “Otou-san, do you know?”

“Not all of it, not yet.”

Takani finally relented, and Sagara cut a glance to Koshijiro. “When Kenshin’s home, we’ll talk. It wouldn’t be right otherwise. I never did find him last night-”

“Kaoru-san!” Tsubame opened the sliding door, stumbling in her haste. “It’s Kenshin-san, he’s back! He’s not hurt, but…” She struggled for words, her face distraught.

They rushed to the front. A heavy countenance surrounded Himura, even just by his gait. His shoulders were lowered, as if he was bearing an immense weight, and every step seemed an excruciating ordeal. As he approached them, his shoes scuffed the path but he didn’t react. Underneath his bangs, his eyes were shadowed with gloom.

“Kenshin, welcome home.” Kaoru softly said. “You must be tired. Are you going to sleep a little?”

“…Yes.” His voice was barely audible. He didn’t look at anyone, staggering on and into the house in utter silence.

“He’s totally out of it.” Sagara watched in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yahiko’s voice was hoarse, and his forehead creased in concern.

Tsubame desperately turned to Kaoru. “Will you ask, Kaoru-san?”

“I shouldn’t. I can’t force him to talk. This is the first time I’ve seen Kenshin suffering so much.” Heartache was in his daughter’s eyes, the downturn of her mouth. “He probably hasn’t had anything to drink. I’ll leave some tea outside his room.” Then, she quickly left.

The day slid by, as slowly as honey from the bottom of a jar. Koshijiro spent the remainder of the morning at work, waiting for Saito to have a spare moment. It was close to noon when the bureaucracy retreated, and he updated the assistant chief on the connection to Shishio. Saito didn’t seem surprised; perhaps, he had an inkling already.

Sawagejo barged into the office halfway through, and upon the revelation, he hissed. “I knew it! I knew Iwanbo was weird, we never saw him eat or sleep or anything. Wait…whoever was inside was spying on us?”

“Listening on conversations, discerning the strengths and weaknesses of the Ten Swords.” Saito sounded bored.

“Hey, Shishio wasn’t naïve. He had Hoji dig dirt on everyone in our group. Iwanbo was supposed to be from Yokohama. Nothing about China or Shanghai.”

“But the best cover stories are rooted in truth.” Koshijiro said. “And Yokohama was the intended destination for the hot air balloons.”

“Damn, it’s all coming together. Guess I have to make a stop there.”

“Be efficient.” Saito added, adjusting his gloves. “We’re short on time already.” There was a knock, and he swore. He shooed them out, citing an upcoming meeting with Commissioner Kawaji. He clearly hated the workplace politics, and Koshijiro felt sorry for him.

In the afternoon, the heat was stifling, and Koshijiro returned home with trepidation. “I’m back.”

At first, there was no response, and his stomach twisted. Then, Kaoru called from the kitchen. “Otou-san, welcome home.”

He exhaled and headed towards her. “How is everyone?”

She was standing with a cup of water, spending her break away from the dojo. “Taking it easy. Kenshin’s still sleeping and I don’t want to bother him.” Her smile was strained. “So much has happened in the past few days…”

“Is it too overwhelming, Kaoru?”

“I’m okay, Otou-san. Everybody’s safe and together, that’s the least I can ask for now. It feels like forever ago, that we were demonstrating Hadome and Hizadome in Kyoto.” Then, she squared her shoulders. “I’m considering teaching Yahiko the succession techniques. Is that alright? He hasn’t even been a student for a full year, and it took me almost three years before I could use the techniques in battle. But Jinchuu…”

“It’s unusual, but we’re in unusual circumstances. Above all, you are his teacher and the best judge of his ability.” He replied.

Kaoru pressed her lips together, before nodding. “Right. I think Yahiko’s ready. No, I know he is. He may be young, but he already understands that strength is about protecting people. That’s what Kamiya Kasshin is.”

“Exactly. May I observe the lesson?”

“Of course!”

Yahiko perked up immediately when Kaoru announced she’d teach him. “Really?!” He jumped into the air, the liveliest he’d been all day. He was incredibly eager to catch a shinai with the backs of his hands. “Come on, strike at me!”

“Nope, not yet.” Kaoru shook her head. “You saw already from our demo, but understanding the hilt is the basis of the succession techniques. You have to solidify your knowledge of the hilt first.”

Koshijiro set a floor cushion by the door and watched their drills. Kaoru was defending, while Yahiko performed offensive strikes…only using the hilt.

“Why?!” Yahiko found the challenge difficult. He was certainly clumsier, but Koshijiro could tell that he was doing quite well.

“Otou-san made me do this too, when I was younger. You’ll get it once you learn the techniques.” In the past, Kaoru had bemoaned this exercise, but after many sessions, she grasped the true message. It was about the dimensions and limitations of the hilt. One’s grip could easily be lost during the blade catch; by practicing with extensive focus on the hilt, maintaining a hold on the shinai would become second nature.

Tsubame slipped into the dojo, and Koshijiro grabbed another cushion for her. She whispered her thanks. “Yahiko-kun looks much better.”

Indeed, the goal had revitalized his spirit. Sweat poured down his forehead and temples, but his gaze was burning with newfound determination. Every repetition was different than the previous. He was an excellent student, adjusting his approach each time. His concentration remained on Kaoru’s next move, even as Sagara barged in, wanting to see. Takani joined them as well, seizing the opportunity to apply fresh bandages to his right hand. The only one missing was Himura.

Perhaps, I should check on him. Koshijiro thought. Then, as if his mind was read, the door slid open.

“Oh, Kenshin-san.” Tsubame looked up at him with round eyes, and Koshijiro inclined his head.

Himura looked a little better, the sleep had helped. But he still seemed worn out, and his gaze landed on Kaoru. She had just disarmed Yahiko again.

“No, you’re still using the blade! Honestly, I’m tempted to give you an old broken hilt.” She noticed Himura and stopped. For a moment, they stared at each other. She turned away first, addressing Tsubame. “Tsubame, can we switch off? Take my shinai and block Yahiko. One hundred more hits, Yahiko. With the hilt.”

“Aw, what?!” Yahiko whined. Tsubame audibly gulped, as the shinai was passed to her. To Koshijiro’s knowledge, she’d never touched the dojo equipment before, and that fact was quickly reinforced. The drill continued, with the additional sounds of Yahiko’s war cries and Tsubame’s little squeaks at the collision of bamboo against bamboo.

Himura asked. “Kaoru-dono, what is this?”

She didn’t sit, leaning against the wall instead. Koshijiro handed her a cloth to wipe her face, and she briskly dried off. “Yahiko’s preparing to learn the succession technique. It’ll take a long time, but he’s ready to take the first step. He knows something’s going on, and he wants to help, however he can. To improve, for himself and everyone here.” She was proud of his progress, and she draped the cloth around her neck.

“…Yes. Yahiko is advancing and he may make mistakes, but not the same ones this one has. Even Yahiko has a sense of the truth…” He trailed off. The heavy atmosphere was collecting around him, his bangs concealing his eyes.

Koshijiro stood, but he didn’t know what to say, for Himura to reveal his thoughts. He was painfully aware of his inadequacy at talking about emotions. But…his daughter was an expert at dispelling such melancholy feelings.

Gently, Kaoru reached out to Himura. Not touching his face but garnering his attention, her fingers hovering under his chin. Instinctively, he lifted his gaze to her, almost startled by the motion. Her voice was soft, coaxing. “Before that, are you sure you’re not hurt? You can always talk later. At least, let Megumi examine you soon. Please?” And her smile was pure, only compassion for his well-being.

The tension fled Himura, and he murmured. “Thank you, Kaoru-dono.” In the next instant, his own hand encircled her forearm. He wasn’t hurting her, but he didn’t speak. He also wasn’t letting go.

The dojo fell silent, as everyone’s eyes turned to them. Kaoru’s cheeks steadily grew pink. The spot between Koshijiro’s eyebrows began to ache, with how much suspicion he was directing towards Himura.

“Um, Kenshin?” Kaoru stammered.

“Sanosuke’s wounds. Yahiko’s sweat. And your warmth, Kaoru-dono. These are not illusions.” He looked at each of them in turn, gravely serious. “There’s something all of you must hear, about the current battle…and its beginnings. After dinner, this one will tell you.”

And at last, here was the truth. When night fell, the clouds had cleared to unveil the array of stars. They sat in a circle outside, their undivided attention on Himura. He had his thoughts together, and he spoke slowly and deliberately.

“This morning, while this one was walking back, the mastermind behind Jinchuu revealed himself. Yukishiro Enishi, this one’s brother. Or rather, brother-in-law. He is the younger brother of Himura Tomoe, who was this one’s wife.” At this, Koshijiro glanced at Kaoru, her expression stunned even before Himura confessed. “And this one killed her.”

***

It was very late when Himura finally ended the tale of his past, and they only had the energy to shuffle to bed.

Himura’s past had been tragic, and it was no wonder he carried the burden. The cross-shaped scar on his cheek was the result of two deaths by his hand. He truly had killed his first wife with a katana, albeit unintentionally. Koshijiro wondered how he was faring, but it was best to leave him alone for the night. However, Himura had felt comfortable enough to share. He had trusted all of them, and the invisible distance that had caused him to drift away was gone.

Koshijro laid in his futon, trying to get comfortable. As exhausted as he was, he couldn’t fall asleep. He tossed aside his blanket.

Yukishiro had told Himura that in ten days, Jinchuu would take place at the Kamiya dojo. He had five allies, most of whom they’d already met, but the extent of their abilities was hardly demonstrated. They had months to plot their revenge. Ten days was a paltry deadline, a taunt even. Koshijiro began to pace, and his room was small. He strode through the hallway, navigating through the darkness.

Voices drifted near the front door and he peered out. “Sagara-san? Yahiko? Were you unable to sleep?”

“I’m standing guard.” Sagara explained. He was cross-legged on the steps, his bandaged right hand resting at his side. “Even if Jinchuu’s happening in ten days, they just might attack us before then.”

“And I’m practicing Hadome!” Yahiko had his wrists crossed above his head. His persistence paid off and he had improved greatly with wielding the hilt. Kaoru provided the condition that if he pretended to catch a blade ten thousand times, she would strike at him. “How’s my form, Kamiya-san?”

Koshijiro observed his repetitions. “You have the basics, but you’re not grounded enough.” To demonstrate, he approached and lightly tapped the outside of Yahiko’s knee with his foot. Yahiko struggled for balance, and Koshijiro shoved against him, using the open palm of his hand. He emphasized. “You need to withstand the weight of your opponent’s blow. Let the energy pass through your body, and feel the earth underneath absorb it instead. Otherwise, your form will collapse.”

Sagara laughed. “You’re bullying him, old man!”

“Shut up, Sano!” Yahiko fumed. And he pushed back against Koshijiro, finding his stance and locking in. His knees were bent at the right angle, and he straightened his posture with confidence. “How’s this?”

“Much better. Do you agree?”

“Yeah, thanks!” He glanced at Koshijiro’s left shoulder. “So with Hizadome, you have to be even more grounded?”

“Yes, because I only have one arm to fight back against an opponent’s two. I have yet to encounter an opponent who could overpower me. I may have to change the technique.”

“Huh? Just like that?”

“It isn’t usually done, but I’ve always viewed Kamiya Kasshin as a work in progress. The majority of what I’ve developed has only been tested in the dojo. If reality is different, then the techniques must change to reflect what is possible.”

“Well, I get Hawatari’s a disarming move, but what about breaking your opponent’s sword? Is that possible?” He was earnestly serious.

“I don’t know. It would have to be attempted first, but it’s an interesting idea.”

“Yeah.” His thoughtfulness lingered, before he vigorously resumed crossing his wrists.

“Both of you should try to rest.” Koshijiro said. “Strength is recovered through sleep.”

“I took naps during the day, but I’ll put Yahiko to bed in an hour.” Sagara assured.

Yahiko paused in a crouching position. “No way, I’m taking second watch.”

“Not if I knock you out.”

“Hey!”

Koshijiro walked on, following the moonlight to the backyard, and he was surprised to find his daughter on the porch. She blinked at him. “Otou-san? You’re still awake?”

He slowed to a stop and sat beside her. “I needed the exercise. What about you?” He carefully asked. During Himura’s retelling, she was quiet. She only spoke once, to tell him to keep going. She had borne the entirety of the tale without giving away any of her own emotions.

“I just wanted some fresh air.” She paused. “Megumi and I were talking. She mentioned that she would have done the same in Tomoe-san’s place. I wouldn’t have, I would live. I know Kenshin would only blame himself more if I died. But Megumi said I was thinking of what I would have done instead…”

Koshijiro tilted his face, letting the cool night air wash over his skin. “To me, it is a futile exercise of thought. You are yourself, and you can only act as yourself. As someone who has sworn to protect life with the sword, as the master of Kamiya Kasshin. As the brave, kind young woman you’ve become, who has opened the dojo to everyone here. And from what I’ve seen over the past months, I’m confident Himura-san would agree with you. He would not smile at all, if you sacrificed yourself.”

“Otou-san,” She hugged him, her hair smelling of the jasmine soap she used. “You’re being very nice. Thank you.”

Embarrassed, he patted her head. “I would question what I’ve taught you all these years, if you answered otherwise.” The words came out harsher than he meant to.

“Are you upset?”

“A little.” He admitted. “I do not like the implication of you dying before me. Children bury their parents, not the other way around.”

Kaoru sadly smiled. “Before Okaa-san was in the hospital, she told me to cherish my life. She really loved us, she wanted nothing more than to live with us.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Even now, the memory of Kyoko’s anguish caused his heart to ache. “Kaoru, I need to tell you something.”

“Hm?”

“Last year, in Satsuma, right before the explosion that took my arm, all I could think of was you. That I wouldn’t be coming home, like I said I would.”

“Otou-san…” She looked helplessly at him.

“When I woke up, I was incredibly grateful to be alive. I remember that feeling, whenever there’s a phantom pain or if I reach for something to my left. I see everyone in the house and the dojo, and I think how fortunate it is, that I’m here to experience every day. I never would have, if I died in Satsuma. As a boy, I grew up with the notion that death was honorable, but it isn’t. Living is far worthier, with the people you care for. Your choice is correct. Do not doubt that, ever.”

“I won’t.” And she seemed surer, her eyes bright with inner courage. Then, the corner of her mouth lifted. “I think Okaa-san would fuss over you, if she could see you now. She’d make sure you never have to reach to your left at all.”

“I had a dream of her in the hospital. We were sitting in this very spot, and she told me to go home, please.”

Kaoru grinned. “That sounds like Okaa-san. I haven’t dreamed about her recently, but I know she’s here.” She pressed her hand to her heart. A breeze rustled her hair, and she tucked a lock behind her ear. “Oh, I wonder if she would have fussed over this.”

“She certainly would. Is it still there?”

“Barely. No, you don’t have to look, you always get so guilty about it.” She grumbled. “It’s fine! It’s not a big deal, literally.”

Still, he felt remorseful. “Alright. But remember what I said.”

“Don’t worry, Otou-san. If Megumi brings it up again, my response will be better. I won’t throw away the life that you and Okaa-san gave me.” She gave him a parting kiss on the cheek, before rising to her feet. “Go to bed soon, okay? Good night.”

“Good night, Kaoru.” He lingered on the porch for a few more minutes, occupied with thinking over what to do.

Ten days.

#rurouni kenshin #kamiya koshijiro #kenkao #at arm's length #i changed the chapter title when i was almost done but this is better

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 17

With this new chapter, the total fic is over 300 pages on my Word doc. It’s the close of this arc, and there will be one more interlude before angst train like I promised a year ago. Let me know what you think, it’s also posted on FF.net and AO3!

Chapter 17: Home At Last

“Of course, you can take a week off!” Chief Uramura exclaimed. “Really, Kamiya-san, you should have asked earlier. I was planning to say something, if you hadn’t. Please, go and be with your family.”

Months ago, that same word had puzzled Koshijiro when he thought of it. Now, he wasn’t experiencing such confusion. ‘Family’ felt undeniably right. “Thank you. I’ll still be in the office until Friday, to finish up. I’ll assign responsibilities to the young officers as well.”

“Yes, you know them best. You’ve been invaluable to their improvement. They’re an entirely different group than the beginning of the year, and for the better. It’s thanks to your guidance, as expected of a kenjutsu teacher.”

“They were willing to learn in the first place.” He humbly responded. “Advice is nothing without a listening ear.”

After he was dismissed from the chief’s office, he spoke to the rookies. They would be alright in his absence, they insisted, and not to worry while he was gone. Their expressions were clear and forthright; he felt reassured. He would have to purchase souvenirs for them, as well as the chief.

That afternoon, he was occupied with tidying his desk drawers, which had already been delayed for long enough. It was quiet, and the others were out on midday patrol. He didn’t think much of the sound of someone’s entrance, until there was a thud, like a stack of papers had just been tossed in front of him. He glanced up to confirm it, then at the man who’d just delivered them. With his sleeveless shirt and greased hair, he could have been mistaken for a gangster. Even the self-assured way he carried himself was reminiscent of Sagara, although the Kansai accent put an end to further comparison.

“Hey. Are you Officer Kamiya?”

“I am.”

“Name’s Sawagejo Cho. A mutual friend sent me here to work with you.”

He assumed this was the person Saito had mentioned. “It’s good to meet you. Is there something I can do for you, before I’m on leave next week?”

“On leave?” He echoed, in surprise.

“Yes, I’m going out of town.”

Sawagejo opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He scratched his neck, muttering. “Whatever, it’s fine. I’m used to working solo. Here, I was given these notes so you can catch up.” He slid the papers closer to Koshijiro, enough to confirm Saito’s handwriting.

To put it simply, Saito was following through on Shishio’s dealings. He had not conquered villages alone, he had financial backing from a number of individuals who desired the ruin of the current government, if only for their own self-interest. Shishio’s warship, however, was the most challenging. Saito had deduced that its source had been separate from any of the other dissidents, and far wealthier too. Sawagejo would be uncovering leads on the streets, with any assistance Koshijiro could provide.

“You get it, right? Can’t let this fellow slip away from us.”

“Yes, I understand. Where there’s one warship, there may be an entire fleet waiting.” Koshijiro returned the documents to him. “What is your plan so far?”

“I have an idea on how the money was funneled. I snuck a peek at some documents from the base, courtesy of Shishio’s right hand man.” Sawagejo proceeded to explain, turning the pages.

Whoever Shishio’s second was, he had certainly taken advantage of loopholes to transfer the cash under a multitude of company fronts and false identities. The thread had vanished two months ago, but Sawagejo was confident he could pick it up again. With Koshijiro’s authority, they were able to peruse the legal record. While Sawagejo investigated on the streets, Koshijiro would authenticate the short-lived businesses with existing documentation.

“It will be tedious.” Koshijiro warned. “If you feel frustrated, let me know. A weary spirit makes no progress.”

“Nah, I need to keep myself busy.” The other man muttered, his expression pensive. “Keep the papers, I’m headed out. The Kamiya dojo’s where I can find you, right?”

“Yes, it is. You can find me there when I’m not at the station, so knock on the gates when you arrive.”

Sawagejo only acknowledged this with a shrug, before walking away. He must have suffered a loss, Koshijiro thought, and whatever it was, he still hadn’t recovered yet.

In his spare time, Koshijiro had cleaned the house in preparation. Granted, the dust would be back before long, yet it would be less work for Himura. Or anyone who decided to clean, of course. The soap needed to be restocked anyway, and he stopped by the market the day prior to his departure. It was a quick errand, but he lingered. There was also something else he had to account for…

“Good morning, Kamiya-san!” Tae’s familiar voice called out, and he turned to see her and Tsubame, who was carrying a basket of persimmons.

“Good morning, Sekihara-san, Tsubame-chan. How are you?”

“We’re doing well. As you saw last time, business is booming at the Akabeko.” Tae was pleased. “We’re keeping busy, aren’t we, Tsubame?”

“Yes, Tae-san.” The persimmons’ weight didn’t seem to affect her posture; she had become a little stronger. “Um, Kamiya-san? How’s everyone in Kyoto doing?”

“Still recovering, but I plan to come home with them next week.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She breathed, smiling now. “Yahiko-kun’s all better too?”

“He is, and I’m sorry I didn’t have a letter for you.” He paused. “However, I think you’ll find he may have something better in store.”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t that nice, Tsubame?” Tae had a knowing glint in her eye. “He must have bought a gift for you.”

Flustered, the girl renewed her interest in the fruit. “I’m just glad he’s alright…”

“We’re looking forward to having them back. Were you trying to find more soap, Kamiya-san?” She had noticed the cloth bag in his grip.

“I have what I need, and I was also looking around.” He then admitted. “I was thinking of a suitable gift. It’s overdue, but I never did anything for Kaoru’s birthday since I left for Satsuma.”

“Ah, so that’s what it was. What were you considering?”

“I used to make her a new shinai every year.” The task had required two hands, to hold the bamboo steady while cutting the necessary notches. “I don’t think I can, any longer.”

“…Well, a change of pace would be welcome.” Tae breezily said. “Kaoru’s very good at taking care of other people, but she doesn’t request anything for herself.”

He nodded in agreement, as he thought it over. “A new uniform, perhaps, as befitting the master of Kamiya Kasshin.”

“A new kimono, perhaps.” The slightest hint of exasperation tightened her smile. “Really, Kamiya-san! I think you should leave the choice of fabric to her. She knows what’s fashionable.”

“Of course.” He tried to maintain a stoic face, to conceal his embarrassment. “I do owe her for two birthdays and my absence. Once they’re home, she can plan a day’s outing and I’ll treat everyone to dinner at the end.”

“And if you decide to spend dinner at the Akabeko, I’ll reserve a table.”

“Thank you. I don’t think the others will object.”

“I heard they’re planning to attend a festival? They’ll have a good time.” Her voice was warm with nostalgia. “We’ll be waiting for all of you to return; please, have a safe trip.”

“Travel safely.” Tsubame echoed.

“We’ll be here soon enough.” He promised, and they parted ways. He did peer into a few clothing shops, just for preliminary comparison.

***

Takani had returned the spare key to him, and he handed it off to Dr. Gensai, who promised to watch the house in his absence.

“And when we see you again, you can expect a welcome home celebration too.” He gave a hearty laugh. “Ayame and Suzume have been asking every day when they can visit.”

Koshijiro smiled. “Well, I’m sure Kaoru and the others will be happy to see them. If there’s anything urgent, please let me know right away.”

“Of course. Have a good trip!”

Just before leaving, he locked his notes in the drawer below the family altar. The money trail hadn’t been fully uncovered, but he had found a point of connection. Although the funds had been divided and changed hands, small portions at a time had run through a candle-making shop. In such amounts, the transactions would have passed as insignificant. He had informed Sawagejo yesterday, who would pay a visit and observe.

“I’ll be back soon.” He said to the portraits of Kyoko and his mother. He checked the house once more, that it was secured properly, before closing the gate behind him.

The train was on time, and settling in his seat, he considered taking a nap so he would be refreshed upon his arrival. He had traveled often enough, that he could now fall into a light sleep to pass the time. In the background, he overheard there was a last second arrival on board, the conductor admonishing whoever it was. Then, they began to move. And to his surprise, Sawagejo slid onto the opposite cushion.

The other man’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, you’re headed to Kyoto too?”

“I am.” He realized he never had disclosed his destination. “And what about you? I was under the impression you would be staying in Tokyo for the time being.”

“I got some news and I wanted to share it. In person.” He then changed the subject. “Anyway, for the investigation, I went to the shop. Seems shady, and I heard it’s working under the table for a Chinese enterprise. That’s as far as I managed.”

“In a week, that’s certainly more than enough. You’ve done good work, and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Sawagejo grunted in response. “It’s not over yet.”

“No, it isn’t.” Koshijiro paused. “I thought of another angle. The warship was a massive commission. Whoever the original backer was, they may have financed other pursuits. It would be worth looking into large luxury items, perhaps Western.”

“Like a train?” He gestured to their surroundings.

“A train requires a railroad, and such visibility limits opportunity for attack. Another warship would be too suspicious, but I can’t think of anything else they would try.”

“So you think they’ll do it again?”

“They’ve gone to such lengths already with Shishio, and even after his failure, they’re still transferring the funds. Reinvesting, you could say.”

He sighed. “Damn, it’s just the same old story. Rich folks, making everyone else dance to their whims.” He was quiet for the remainder of the journey, only offering a brief goodbye at the station.

When he arrived at the Shirobeko, he only saw Sae and a couple of the staff. According to them, Sagara, Takani, and Yahiko were helping with errands before the expected influx for the festival tonight. Himura and Kaoru, however, were upstairs, and before he could inquire further, a group of customers came to signal the start of the lunch rush. He stepped aside, heading up to the second floor.

As he drew closer, he caught their muffled voices. Were they talking? The door to the girls’ room was open, but Himura’s was closed. Trying to avoid creaks in the floorboards, he pressed one ear to the rice paper.

“This one remembered your words. ‘Let’s go home to Tokyo together.’ And that gave this one the strength to continue the fight.”

Then, it was too quiet. Unable to bear not knowing, Koshijiro opened the sliding door. “Lunch is ready. Also, I’m here.” He added belatedly.

“Otou-san!” Kaoru startled. Her hand was in the air, as if she had just let go. She and Himura were standing by the window, the sunshine pouring in. “You’re early!”

“Good afternoon, Kamiya-dono.” Himura inclined his head, giving a polite smile. He was standing without the cane, and if any bandages remained, they weren’t visible.

“Good afternoon, Himura-san. And Kaoru, there weren’t any delays, thankfully. I see you’re both well.”

“Yeah, Kenshin’s so much better.” His daughter beamed. “How was your week, Otou-san?”

“Not as eventful as finding three orphans, but I have a new assignment. I can discuss it later, after we eat.” He gestured to the hallway, indicating he’d follow suit after them.

When they reached the dining area, Koshijiro quickly spotted Takani and Yahiko, and that Shinomori and Makimachi had arrived as well. Their postures were tense, surrounding Sagara’s taller figure. He was standing over a table, apparently talking to one of the customers. His voice rang out.

“What the hell are you doing here, broom head?”

That made them hurry over, and Koshijiro blinked when he saw who Sagara was questioning. Hadn’t he just traveled with this man?

“Huh?! Kamiya-san?” Sawagejo’s jaw dropped. The cup of sake in his hand tilted dangerously. “You know these people?”

“I was going to ask the same of you, regarding how you’re acquainted with my family.”

“You never said you were coming here!”

“Wait, you know the old man?” Sagara interjected.

Koshijiro provided the explanation. “We were working together in Tokyo over the past few days. I don’t believe we shared the exact details of our travel plans with each other, so this is certainly a surprise.”

“Kamiya-san, why would you collaborate with him?” Makimachi jerked a thumb towards Sawagejo. “This guy’s really no good! Himura-san and I already know what he’s like.”

“Hey, I’ve changed. I’m working for the police now.” Sawagejo downed his drink in one go, wiped his mouth, and said. “Look, I’m here to talk about the rest of the Ten Swords.”

The rest? It suddenly made sense. Sawagejo was one of Shishio’s followers, who had since been converted to their side. However, he didn’t remember the man’s description from any of the fights that Sagara, Yahiko, or Kaoru described. And there was Makimachi’s comment. Then…he had to be the swordsman who forced Himura to decide between a baby’s life and the vow not to kill.

Koshijiro frowned at Sawagejo. “You were the one who kidnapped the child?”

Immediately, he paled. “You know about that? No, wait, of course you do. Yeah, I did, and a whole lot of other shitty things. Saito offered me the chance to work for him, in exchange for a full pardon. And who else is gonna employ me? At least, until I find something better.”

“That’s so scummy!” Makimachi protested. She seemed ready to lunge at him, but Shinomori’s hand touched her elbow in warning and the intensity of his dark eyes caused her to falter.

Himura stepped forward in her place, his expression guarded. “…So, while you’re here, please share your information.”

They sat at the table, and Sawagejo recounted the fates of his remaining former comrades. Some were working for the government, offering their strength and skills at various posts. The scythe-wielder who had battled Kaoru and Makimachi was among them, or would be, after recovering.

“Kamatari’s not healing too well though.” Sawagejo poured himself another shot.

Yahiko glanced at Kaoru. “But you always say about Kamiya Kasshin…”

“I didn’t mean to!” Her gaze darted to Koshijiro. “It was a clean break; it shouldn’t have caused complications.”

Sympathetically, he clasped her shoulder, as Sawagejo continued. “Oh, it’s not the knee. It’s her heart. She took Shishio’s death really hard. When I last saw her at the clinic she was in, I told her that Shishio wanted us to spread his true story, to counter the government’s version of events. Of course, that gave her some hope.”

“Oh.” Kaoru exhaled, while Makimachi gave a skeptical look.

“Is that true?”

Sawagejo rolled his eyes. “No way. Shishio never said anything like that. Kamatari can’t move on unless she believes he’d want her to. Well, so long as she’s alive, she’s not dead.” There was a certain kindness to his behavior though.

“Look, the only one I care about is Anji.” Sagara was as straightforward as ever. “What happened to him? He has too much hatred for the government to work for them.”

“Yeah, and I guess I have to thank you that he wasn’t executed. He turned himself into the police, with another he rescued. But, he wants to pay for his crimes. He’s serving twenty-five years in Hokkaido.”

Koshijiro half expected Sagara to give an outburst, but he didn’t. Instead, he only appeared pensive. “That’s…a long time.”

“The last person, you haven’t mentioned yet.” Himura spoke up. “Shishio’s most devoted follower. What happened to him?”

Sawagejo’s mouth twisted. “Hoji’s dead. He wanted a trial, to have the chance to praise Shishio’s memory. In the end, he was denied.”

“This one expected as much.” Himura quietly said. “Those in power would prefer to never hear of Shishio again, to snuff out the shadow of the Bakumatsu.”

“Yeah. He was offered a deal, to put his brains to use if he could swear loyalty and forget about Shishio’s message. Somehow, he had a hidden blade left on him and slit his own throat. I saw his cell last night. He wrote in his own blood on the wall: the world is dead to me and I go to serve Shishio-sama in hell.”

No one made a sound. Even if the man had schemed to bring about a rebellion, he didn’t deserve such a morbid outcome.

Yahiko frowned. “The government didn’t look after him. Then, what were we fighting for?”

“That’s just how it is, kid.” Sawagejo had moved onto his green tea; talking had parched his throat. “Yumi-neesan knew that. She used to be the most popular courtesan in Yoshiwara, and when we were drinking together, she said she had pride in that life. Until the Maria Luz incident.” At the name, Takani clicked her tongue in recognition, her face souring.

“Maria Luz!” Kaoru knew the reference, and so did Koshijiro. Five years ago, as part of a response to a Peruvian ship, the government had refused to compensate prostitutes for the freedom they’d lost. It had equated those women to livestock.

Yahiko and Makimachi were the youngest and brought up to speed. Makimachi was rightfully furious, and Yahiko scratched his head. “It just gets harder and harder, to tell who’s right.”

“Well, I have to go. Kamiya-san, Hoji was the one who procured the battleship. I’m going back to Tokyo, keep investigating. It’s all I can do now.”

“Take care, and thank you.” Koshijiro answered. “I’m sorry, for the allies and friends you’ve lost.”

His smile was bitter. “Like I said, that’s how the world is. Oh, right. Almost forgot about the two who escaped. I don’t think Soujiro will ever be caught. He’s probably wandering off somewhere, smiling and eating dango. And Iwanbo, I’m not sure what became of him, but he’s stupid and harmless. Now, that really is all from me. See ya.” He left the money for his drinks on the table and stood, shuffling to the Shirobeko’s entrance.

“One more thing.” Himura called out to him. “When you visit Sadojima Hoji’s grave, tell him that history will forget Shishio Makoto, Komagata Yumi, and the rest of the Ten Swords. However, they will not be forgotten by this one. Never.”

“I don’t know if he’d like hearing that from the enemy, but sure, whatever.” With a two-fingered salute, he disappeared into the main street.

Yahiko appeared to be in deep contemplation. “Hey, Kenshin. We won, so that means our way is right, doesn’t it?”

Himura evenly replied. “That would be Shishio’s way of thinking. Only the victors can write history, and only future generations can determine whether they were right or wrong. However, Shishio’s message of the strong overcoming the weak…that was wrong. Very wrong.” He repeated firmly.

Koshijiro watched the Shirobeko’s front curtains, still fluttering. To him, there was no question that innocents would have been hurt if Shishio had succeeded in his plans, and many already had in his takeover of villages. But the Ten Swords had their own legitimate grievances against the government, and without a doubt, there had to be others who shared in their sentiments. As time passed, the recollection of war would fade, and discontent would begin to brew again. How long then, would this peaceful time endure?

“So,” Sagara drawled. “We’re your family?”

Now, Koshijiro felt embarrassed. Well, there was no taking it back, and he had to embrace it. He gruffly replied. “The chief said so, and I agree. We are here together because the bonds between us are important. Family is the best description for what we are.”

“I knew it! You’ve softened up.” Sagara’s grin widened further.

“Otou-san, you really must have been lonely.” Kaoru couldn’t resist joking too, but she happily threw her arms around him. “You’re right. I’m glad you think that way.”

Yahiko seemed unsure how to react, fidgeting shyly, and his ears were very red. The trace of melancholy within Takani had resurfaced, though the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned. And Himura’s expression was incredibly fond, as he returned Koshijiro’s gaze.

Awkwardly, he patted Kaoru’s back and cleared his throat. “We still haven’t had lunch yet. Let’s eat, and take care of what needs to be done before the festival.”

The event was scheduled to start later in the afternoon, lasting until midnight. Partway through lunch, the Oniwabanshuu stopped by, to relay that they’d be conducting surveillance as well. Okina lamented not being able to drink to his heart’s content; it was good that the four younger men and women would keep him in check. Nevertheless, he must have snuck a shot or two, because he loudly sang an old folk ballad at the top of his lungs. Koshijiro suspected it was to get a reaction out of Shinomori, but it only served to hasten the spy group’s exit.

When the heat of the day subsided, they separated to change. Koshijiro had brought the last yukata he’d worn to a summer festival, a plain red-brown like fallen leaves. It still fit well, though his left sleeve would have to be pinned out of the way. He left the room at the same time as Shinomori exited from across the hall. The younger man immediately lowered his head and gestured with an arm covered in charcoal gray, for Koshijiro to head down first.

“We can go together.” Koshijiro suggested. “It’s good that you’re coming with us, to enjoy the fresh air. That itself is as good as meditating.”

Shinomori inclined his head. “…I suppose.”

Outside the Shirobeko, most of the others were waiting. Makimachi wore a sky-colored yukata, patterned with orange and black goldfish. Standing beside her, Takani was clad in lavender, with a striped obi. Sagara’s maroon sleeves were already rolled up, and Yahiko was fiddling with the collar of his green yukata, adorned with golden bamboo.

“Aoshi-samaaaaa!” Makimachi was thoroughly delighted by his appearance. “You look perfect!”

His stoic expression didn’t crack, but he did meet her gaze and nod. It was a slight improvement from before, and he seemed better in her presence.

“Where are Kaoru and Himura-san?” Koshijiro asked, and Sagara jabbed a thumb upstairs.

“Jou-chan said something about fixing her hair, and Kenshin is cleaning the sakabato. With his yukata, he’ll have to carry it in a satchel, but he doesn’t expect a fight. It’s just that he couldn’t leave it behind, after all.”

It would also be the first time he carried it since the duel with Shishio, Koshijiro realized. “I’ll see how they’re doing.” He pivoted, returning the way he came. He was about to knock on Himura’s door first, but it opened and the younger man blinked at him in surprise.

“Kamiya-dono. This one apologizes for the delay.” Himura’s yukata was off-white, with the outlines of foliage in navy thread. Koshijiro didn’t recognize it, so it must have been purchased in Kyoto, but the cloth bag over his shoulder was certainly familiar. It was from the dojo, used for holding shinai. Presumably, it now concealed the reverse blade. Had he borrowed it from Kaoru?

Remembering himself, Koshijiro shook his head. “No, it’s alright. As a swordsman, I understand. You wouldn’t feel comfortable otherwise.”

He gave a thoughtful look. “And you are comfortable now?”

“Only after many years. I have two decades on you, so please don’t feel rushed.” This sentiment caused Himura to give a light laugh, and Koshijiro couldn’t resist smiling.

“Kenshin! Otou-san!” Kaoru stepped out, in a dark blue yukata overflowing with hand-sized white blossoms and leaves. Her obi was pale gold, and he recognized the rosy shade of her ribbon, inherited from her mother. “I thought I heard your voices. Sorry, but I’m ready now. Let’s go!”

Koshijiro glanced at Himura, who was staring at her. After a moment, the younger man startled, murmuring. “You look…very nice, Kaoru-dono.”

She blushed. “Well, you look very nice too.”

No one moved right away, and Koshijiro deliberately cleared his throat. “You’re both suitable, so we should meet with everyone. We still have the rest of the day ahead of us.” They rejoined the others, and as a group, they leisurely walked along the main street. He did check if Himura and Kaoru were behaving. With their outfits in similar themes, but reversed colors, they made a complementary picture.

It was early enough that it wasn’t crowded yet, though it was about the right time for young families to enjoy the festival. Sweet and savory aromas wove through the air, leading to wagashi shops or charcoal grills in the open. Colorful paper lanterns were strung up, and the rumble of taiko drums signaled there was a performance not too far away. The artisans of Kyoto were already prepared, showcasing their goods. Cosmetics were among them, and Takani bent over the little pots of rouge and powders. She noticed their gazes, especially Kaoru’s and Makimachi’s, and asked. “Are the two of you interested?”

“A little bit.” Makimachi confessed. “Okon and Omasu have let me try some of theirs, but I’ve never had my own. I was saving my money for travel.”

“Makeup wears off during practice, so I don’t usually wear it.” Kaoru said.

“Well, this is a good opportunity. Come here.” She beckoned, and the girls huddled.

“Guess that’s our cue. Come on, there’s gotta be a few games we can play.” Sagara surveyed the stalls. “Like…scooping goldfish?”

“Where would we even put them?” Yahiko was skeptical. “In one of the Shirobeko’s pots? Come on, Sano, you gotta think about where the money is. And that’s at senbonbiki.”

“The one where you pick a string and win whatever you pull?”

“Yeah, usually scammers run those, because it’s easy to place decoy strings. But I can tell which ones lead to the prizes.” With a devious grin, he cracked his knuckles, and Koshijiro was reminded of his pickpocketing history.

Himura was amenable to the idea. “That sounds fun. We’ll follow your lead, Yahiko.”

With his chest puffed out, he easily located a stall, which was peddling an array of items through the game. Folding fans, spinning tops, painted daruma dolls, hand drums, pinwheels, small ebony figurines. The teenage vendor looked bored, more interested in eyeing the women passing by.

“These are just kids’ toys.” Sagara complained.

Yahiko was offended. “Oh, yeah? Go on and pick a string, I bet you get nothing!”

As he planted down the money in answer to the challenge, he smirked. “Just watch, you point and I’ll pull it.”

“Fine, that wooden tiger!”

While Sagara made good on his promise and procured a fox sculpture, Koshijiro’s eyes fell upon a ribbon. It appeared to be cut from Western cloth, delicate blue flowers on white, and was tied in a bow. The ends were also trimmed with lace, to prevent fraying. It would be nice for Kaoru. He glanced at Himura, and they made eye contact. So, they had the same idea.

“You can take your turn first, Himura-san.” He offered.

“It’s alright, Kamiya-dono. After you.”

“Very well.” Koshijiro paid, thinking he had an idea of how to obtain that ribbon. With confidence, he chose the string he believed was most likely, and the other end…was tied to a baby rattle. It jangled tauntingly at him as he lifted it.

Sagara gave a rowdy laugh, while Yahiko expressed skepticism. “Is it what you wanted, Kamiya-san?”

“It wasn’t what I hoped for, but I can’t put it back.”

“You can always have another try.”

“After everyone else has gone at least once.” He looked to Himura, who had just handed over the necessary fee.

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.” He approached the stall, considering the strings. Then, he reached forward, and there was the ribbon, falling into his hand. “Ah, how lucky.”

“Indeed.” Koshijiro raised his eyebrows. “You chose well.”

Yahiko wasn’t as enthusiastic. “I guess you can go again after Kamiya-san?”

“No, this one is satisfied with the ribbon.” He smiled.

“That frilly thing? Hey!”

Sagara had smacked the spot between his shoulder blades. “Obviously, he’s not keeping it. He’s gonna give it to Jou-chan.”

“W-well, yeah, I figured.” Yahiko muttered.

Shinomori then stepped up; he had been so quiet, but it seemed he was interested. He didn’t take long to deliberate, and his prize was one of the larger folding fans, silver in color. It reflected the late afternoon light, a bright patch shifting across his face.

“Aha, there you are!” Apparently, the glint had caught Makimachi’s eye, and she waved vigorously as she skipped over to them. Kaoru and Takani were behind her; Koshijiro noticed how their mouths were tinted in deeper shades. “Hm? Aoshi-sama, what’s that you’ve got?”

“For you.” He handed the fan to Makimachi, who dazedly accepted it.

“O-oh. Thank you…” She looked ready to melt. She was so transfixed that she didn’t notice the roving eyes of the vendor, whose attention had now turned to their arrivals.

His whistle immediately sounded like trouble, and it was followed by a sleazy greeting. “Hey, ladies. Wanna give a tug?”

Kaoru scowled. “No, thank you!”

“Find a better way to lure your customers first.” Takani pointedly turned her shoulder towards him, but her eyes held restrained contempt.

“We’re done here.” Koshijiro dismissed the vendor and urged everyone to keep walking. He looked over his shoulder to glare at the teenager again, and he wasn’t the only one. Himura’s expression was darkly threatening, like when he was about to draw his sakabato.

However, Sagara addressed the teenager, grabbing his collar and lifting him off the ground. He had a wide grin that didn’t meet his eyes, as he roughly shook the younger boy. “Oops, I meant to get another string, but I missed. Hm? Nothing’s coming out of you?” Unceremoniously, he dropped the teenager and made a crude gesture. “We better not see you around again.”

The boy had gone purple in the face out of rage, and Sagara sprinted back to them. Now, they really had to leave with haste, and when they were far enough, Yahiko burst into laughter.

“I thought he was gonna pee himself!”

“I thought you were going to get in trouble.” Takani adds, though without malice.

“Well, if it wasn’t me, it’d be someone else.” Sagara shrugged. “Oh, and here.” He tossed the fox sculpture towards her, and she reflexively caught it, inspecting with suspicion.

“What’s this?”

“A thanks for fixing me up.”

“The only thanks I need is for you to be fully healed.” She retorted. “But I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. And we all won something, didn’t we?” He purposefully nudged Himura, who made a startled noise.

Kaoru looked curiously at him. “Oh? Kenshin, what’d you get?”

He directed his full attention towards her, opening his hands to reveal the blue and white cloth. “It’s a hair ribbon, but this one thinks it will look much better on you.” His expression was gentle, as he held it out.

Shyly, her fingers closed over the knot, and as he withdrew, Koshijiro narrowed his eyes. It was hard to tell because of the growing shadows, but had his pinky run over hers?

“It’s so pretty! I’d love to try it on, but I’ll save it for another day, when I’m not as sweaty.” She lightly said.

“This one doesn’t mind seeing you sweaty.” Instantly, he froze. Kaoru’s eyes had grown wide, and in the most panicked way they’d ever seen him, he urgently gestured. As if he could take back his words. “Ah, w-well, this one meant…it doesn’t matter to this one. Whether you’re sweaty or not, this one could never think badly of you, Kaoru-dono.”

“Th-thanks.” Kaoru managed to say, her face flushed.

The atmosphere was painfully awkward. At least, nobody asked what Koshijiro had won. The rattle was tucked inside his obi and he kept his hand on it to prevent more jangling.

They moved on, enjoying the sights and sounds. Dinner turned out to be Shinomori’s choice, of excellent sushi with a view of the setting sun from the roadside. As the sky darkened, people were meandering to the riverbank. Makimachi urged them to follow suit. “It’s the fireworks display! It should be starting soon. Come on, let’s go!”

As the crowds grew, it was hard to find available space. They ended up near a cluster of bushes; with just enough room to breathe though, they couldn’t complain. While they waited, Koshijiro was content to look after his daughter…the family that had come together over the past months.

A whistle, then a reverberating boom. Again, but closer this time. The others gasped, pointing to the horizon. The colors swam in his vision.

It had been a year since he last heard fireworks, and what came to his mind now was Satsuma. The approaching explosions, the tension, the memory of his body coming apart. And the worst phantom pain he’d experienced in a long time seized his left shoulder.

He was positioned at the back of the group, and he stumbled away. He couldn’t fall apart and ruin their experience. He bumped into a wall, not hard enough to hurt, but he drew his hand over his eyes. His knees threatened to buckle; it took all his composure to remain standing.

“Kamiya-dono.”

He forced his gaze up, to see Himura on his right side. The other man kindly smiled. “Shall we find somewhere quieter?”

Unable to speak, he nodded.

“Then, let’s go.” Firmly, carefully, Himura guided him further away from the river. The noise wasn’t completely inescapable, but distance helped.

When the pain began to ebb and his surroundings came into focus, he recognized they were outside the establishment they’d spent dinner at. Finally drawing a full breath, he exhaled. “Himura-san…thank you.”

“It’s the least this one could do.” In the lantern light, Himura’s hair seemed brighter. “This one could tell you were remembering.”

“Unexpectedly so. I didn’t realize fireworks could set it off.”

“Such things cannot be predicted. Kyoto is also a place of many memories for this one, from over ten years ago.” And at this, he appeared troubled.

“Are you alright?”

Himura faced him, thinking it over. At length, he said. “If this one had fought Shishio earlier in the Meiji era, this one would have lost. Right now, this one has a place to return to and that knowledge gave strength. The will, to survive. This one wasn’t thinking about the past this city holds, but of going home. To Tokyo.”

Koshijiro stared at him, with a new regard. “I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

Then, there was Kaoru, emerging from the crowd. The others trailed behind her, and when she recognized Koshijiro, she waved. Upon noticing his expression, her face fell. “Otou-san? You’re not okay.” She immediately stepped over, gently taking hold of his elbow. “Did the fireworks remind you of the war?”

“Satsuma. And…” He looked at his left shoulder.

Her arms came around him, and she patted his back soothingly. “You don’t have to talk about it. How about we go back to the Shirobeko?”

“You can drop me off. The rest of you can enjoy the night.”

“Otou-san, how can we? And it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

His dear daughter, she always knew what to say. She took his left side and Himura his right, and they supported him the entire way back. Shinomori and Makimachi found the quickest route, that traversed behind stone buildings to dull the booming fireworks. Takani bought cold tea, for rehydrating, and Sagara and Yahiko kept an eye out for danger. And so, they returned early and without fanfare, but he was touched.

***

For the remainder of the weekend, they were worn out and recovering. Makimachi and Shinomori took their leave early, preparing to reopen the Aoiya.

“Do you need any help?” Himura offered.

“We’ve got it covered, and anyway, we can’t have you seeing our secret spots!” Makimachi winked. “We’ll invite you over when we’re done!”

That was perfectly fine, because Koshijiro intended to join Kaoru and Yahiko for practice. It was the first time he would, and Kaoru was ecstatic. While they stretched in the yard, the other three sat on the porch to observe.

“I’ll reserve the one-armed katas for the dojo.” Koshijiro said. “But I’d like to show you something else. Yahiko.” He addressed the boy, who quickly straightened his posture. “You’ve seen Kaoru perform Hadome and Hawatari, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, when we were rescuing Megumi. Kaoru said they were the succession techniques that you created.”

He nodded. “So, what was my intention behind these moves?”

“Huh? Um…”

“If you need a reminder, I can demonstrate them again.” Kaoru offered. “Otou-san, you can be my opponent.” They only needed to do so once, before Yahiko cried out.

“Oh, I get it now! It’s to catch the enemy’s weapon, while keeping your own!”

“That’s correct.” Koshijiro smiled. “If you can discern that much already, you’ll be an excellent swordsman in the future.”

“W-well, that’s what I want.” He was flustered and hastily asked. “But can you perform the succession techniques with one hand? Kaoru used both wrists for Hadome.”

“I’ve created a new technique, which I’ll show you now. Remember what you said. Kaoru, let’s switch off.” They returned to their initial stances, with his daughter attacking this time. She struck, the bamboo cutting the air. Time seemed to slow down, as he waited for the right moment.

Now!

He aimed just above her hilt and locked in as they collided. The force of her blow reverberated through his body, but he was grounded. Successful. The base of her shinai was trapped between the hilt of his, and his own grip. “Hizadome!”

Kaoru’s eyes widened in realization. “A block…with the hilt?!”

“You can still do it, you can still catch a sword with one hand!” Yahiko crowed with excitement.

“And next…Hawatari!” Having caught her off guard, he surged, quickly retaliating with an offensive strike to disarm her. She retreated to avoid injury, but with her shinai in the grass, the spar was concluded. Koshijiro returned to form, explaining. “That remained unchanged, so the name is the same.”

“But Hizadome,” Kaoru was awed. “It’s like Hadome, and yet, not quite. One more time, Otou-san?”

He agreed, and afterwards, Sagara was the first to run up to them. “Damn, you really thought it through. Even just seeing it, I can tell how much strength and precision you need. And with one hand!”

“This one understands. It is because you have one hand, that you can carry out this maneuver.” Himura lifted his sakabato, wrapping his fingers around it. “With one hand, you are left with a gap on the sword’s hilt, and with the hilt, it creates a space to block a weapon. This one saw that it was narrow, in order to not lose your own grip.”

“Yes, I had to work out the proper distance, but I believe this is enough for a sword. It may need adjusting for larger weapons.”

Yahiko scrutinized Koshijiro’s hand. “And the hilt doesn’t break?”

“The hilt is strong, and because it’s closer to my body, it’s less likely to break. It’s the same as when you see broken swords. They never break at the hilt, only towards the middle of the blade.”

“Oh, I get it.” He seemed to sink into deeper thought.

“Aren’t you worried about losing a finger?” Takani spoke up. “I understand you’ve done this for years, but it seems dangerous.”

“No more than catching a sword with the backs of your wrists.” He wryly said. “A succession technique is not meant to be a part of your regular repertoire. It is the pinnacle of your personal ability and experience, to be utilized in special circumstances.”

“It depends on your judgment too, if you feel like you can win.” Kaoru added. “Even though the mansion fight wasn’t that bad, I wanted to prove that I was worthy of being the head instructor. So, Otou-san, how did you come up with this?”

“The idea came to me with the start of Himura-san’s rehabilitation, when we were assisting him with his stretches. It made me consider the grip on the shinai, and how it could be utilized.” He shared details of his work in the dojo, and the day passed blissfully with kenjutsu practice.

The Aoiya held their grand reopening in the evening. Of course, the Oniwabanshuu let loose, and Okina happily showcased the latest additions to his singing repertoire. At the rate things were going, they’d have a party every day until they departed.

***

“You can’t be leaving already?!” Makimachi bemoaned in the morning. Kaoru had asked to speak to her and Okina privately, sharing that they’d just purchased their tickets. In one of the inn’s rooms, Koshijiro stood behind her for support.

“Sorry, Misao.” Kaoru said. “We’ve intruded on the Shirobeko long enough.”

“But you can stay at the Aoiya instead! And it’s not like you have more students to teach in Tokyo.”

At this sore point, Kaoru’s smile became forced. “That’s nice of you to offer and I know you mean well, but I’m still the master of Kamiya Kasshin. We have to advertise, Otou-san.”

“Yes, we’ll do that. You all have been incredibly hospitable and we’re very grateful. However, we need to go home.” He said.

“It’s a little sudden though.” Okina stroked his beard. “Why not stay another two or three days?”

Kaoru replied. “Thank you, but we can’t refund the tickets. And for Kenshin, Kyoto is a place of bitter memories. We shouldn’t stay longer than we have to.”

“Of course, of course. We only know the Himura of today, but he was the infamous Hitokiri Battousai.”

“That’s all in the past though!” Makimachi was stubbornly holding her ground. “Himura’s good now, he should move forward!”

“I can’t disagree,” Kaoru admitted. “But Kenshin’s feelings are his own.”

“Then, you should try and cheer him up!”

Okina spoke up again. “Both of you make good points. If you allow me, I’d like to suggest something…an all-day tour of the city���s most thrilling sights!” Exuberantly, he launched into a well-rehearsed speech. “The premier entertainment of Kyoto, combined with our famous architectural structures and historical tales. It’ll lift anyone’s spirits! Aoshi’s at the temple, but tell the others. We can squeeze in everything if we leave now. Hurry, hurry!”

However, it was difficult to track them down; Koshijiro and Kaoru had to split. He found Yahiko at the front of the inn, already dressed and about to put on his shoes. The boy waved. “Hey, Kamiya-san.”

“Good morning. I was looking for you, as well as Himura-san and Sagara-san. Where could I find them?” Koshijiro asked.

“Sano said he was looking for a souvenir for Tsunan. And Kenshin left early, even before Sano. Not sure where he went…” Yahiko trailed off. “And I’m going out too.”

“On your own?”

“Yeah. There’s something I’m curious about.” He looked so serious. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going far.”

It seemed important. “I trust that you’ll be responsible.”

“Kamiya-san, by now, I think I know this city better than you do.” But he relaxed, smiling a little. “I’ll be back soon!”

“Stay safe.” He watched Yahiko go, before turning around. Kaoru was heading his way, when she was intercepted by the doctor.

“Oh, good, you’re still here. I’d like to speak with you.” Takani pointedly looked at Kaoru. “And just you, for the day. We’ll stick together, Kamiya-san.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it something you can’t share with me?”

“Women’s talk.” It wasn’t an answer he liked, but he could only watch as Takani dragged Kaoru off. His daughter gave a backwards glance in apology. If she was fine with it, he wouldn’t intrude.

Koshijro was left to convey the lack of attendance to Makimachi and Okina. However, they couldn’t be denied.

“Then, we’ll just take you! It’ll be an exclusive tour!”

He was immediately swept up by the duo. His feet didn’t stop moving, until they were back to their starting point at the Aoiya’s entrance. It certainly had been a whirlwind, and his head was reeling from the scenery and commentary.

“So, between the Gold Pavilion and the Silver Pavilion, which do you like best?!” Makimachi was desperate to know.

“Well…” Koshijiro deliberated over his answer. “If I must choose, the Silver Pavilion suited my personal taste; the lack of actual silver may have been unintended, but it ended up being more approachable.”

“Yes, its elegance is unparalleled!” Okina had sided with the younger structure, and he vigorously agreed. “The water reflecting upon the lacquer, the sand garden’s representation of Mount Fuji. I’m glad you appreciate it!”

“Aw, fine.” Makimachi pouted. “I guess it didn’t help that the Golden Pavilion is showing its wear and tear. There wasn’t much of the gold foil left.”

That was true, but Koshijiro said. “However, I am partial to the Golden Pavilion’s garden, the Mirror Pond especially. Not only was it beautiful, it also shares the same name as my wife.”

To his embarrassment, they laughed. Makimachi patted his shoulder. “Kamiya-san, I didn’t expect you to be such a romantic!”

Thankfully, he was saved by the others, who were announcing their presences, and he went out to greet them. Sagara and Yahiko looked like they had accomplished what they wanted, while Takani and Kaoru were somber. Koshijiro wondered what they had spoken of.

And then, there was Himura, carrying a small wooden bucket. At their inquiries of where he’d been, he tilted his head. “Oro? This one went to visit a grave…”

“Wait, Kenshin, you said ‘oro’!” Kaoru gasped.

Yahiko pointed at him. “We haven’t heard that since you left Tokyo!”

“So, like a year and a half?” Sagara joked, to which Takani corrected.

“Three months! The rurouni’s wandered back to us.”

As they continued to tease Himura, Kaoru confided. “I think he’s really come home to us, Otou-san.”

“I believe so. But it’s not over yet, not until we’re in the dojo.”

The following day, they were all packed, along with stacked boxes of sweets, purchased from the wagashi shops as gifts. They thanked the Shirobeko’s staff, who happily saw them off. And then, the Oniwabanshuu bid their farewells at the train station.

“Come visit soon, okay?” Makimachi was already tearful.

“Of course!” Kaoru drew her into a hug. “Take care of yourself, alright? And Shinomori-san too.”

The other girl nodded, little sobs escaping her even as she reluctantly pulled away. The Oniwabanshuu surrounded her, ribbing that the Okashira had to be strong. Except for Shinomori, who gave a handkerchief and met her gaze.

“Misao. We can also visit them.”

“Huh?” She hiccupped. “Can we?”

“Yes, definitely!” Kaoru beamed. “You’re welcome any time.”

“Okay…” This sent her on another wave, which caused her to blow her nose into the handkerchief.

Shinomori and Himura nodded at each other, with a sense of mutual understanding. The latter spoke first. “This one would have liked to share a farewell drink.”

“I don’t drink sake.” Shinomori paused. “However, we could have tea instead.”

“Tea, then.” Himura echoed. “Either here or in Tokyo.” 

Then, the train whistled, and they had to board. They had their last look of Kyoto through the glass windows. It was a beautiful city, but this chapter had closed. Koshijiro felt at peace, as the old capital disappeared from their sight.

Fortunately, the trip home was smooth and on schedule. Koshijiro couldn’t fully relax, not until they arrived at the train station in Tokyo. However, they were definitely noticed in town, and because they’d been gone for so long, everyone who crossed their path wanted to talk. Each conversation was brief, just an inquiry of how they were doing, but it added up. Once there was a lull, they exchanged looks and broke into a collective sprint for the Kamiya dojo.

The gate was already open, and newly decorated with flowers. In front of the house, there were familiar faces. Dr. Gensai, his granddaughters, Tae, and Tsubame exclaimed in unison.

“Hello, everyone!”

“Oh man, we got quite a welcome.” Sagara grinned. “Where’d these flowers come from?”

“Fresh from the market.” Tae clasped Tsubame’s shoulders, beaming. “Tsubame picked out the colors.”

The girl blushed, about to excuse herself, but Yahiko walked up to her. The gift for her was in his other hand, behind his back. “Um, Tsubame. I got this from Kyoto.” He looked embarrassed, giving the small box to her, but he was watching her expression.

Even if she expected it, her mouth still opened in amazement. “O-oh. Yahiko-kun, you didn’t have to…”

“Well, I can’t return it. You don’t have to open it now.” He muttered, balefully noticing the gazes of everyone else. Koshijiro stifled a laugh.

“Alright.” She squeaked. “Thank you so much. I…I’ll find out what it is later.”

“Come on,” Sagara said under his breath. “We had a bet going on.”

“Takani-san, it’s good to have you back!” Dr. Gensai greeted her. “The patients have been asking after you, they’ve missed your care.”

“I’m sorry for my extended absence, but I’m ready to return to work.” She smiled. “And I missed them too.”

Ayame and Suzume had been darting from person to person, dancing around their legs. They approached Koshijiro, cheering. “You’re home, you’re home!”

“Yes, we are. We’re home.” Koshijiro nodded, patting their arms. He was going to lead the way into the house, when he sensed Kaoru wasn’t following, so he turned once more.

She was waiting for Himura, her hand outstretched to him. “Kenshin. Welcome home.”

“This one is home.” Himura smiled. He walked to Kaoru, stopping before her, and for a split second, his gaze met Koshijiro’s. Then, he took Kaoru’s hand, and as her eyes widened, he quickly squeezed her fingers. He had already let go before Koshijiro could say anything about it. Kaoru had frozen at the contact as well. Himura gestured for her to keep walking, saying in an almost too casual tone. “What should we have for dinner? This one can make something.”

“A-are you sure?” Kaoru stammered, her fingers slowly curling into her palm.

“This one has missed cooking.” He insisted.

“Well, I’ve missed eating your cooking.” Her response made him laugh.

Koshijiro kept his eyes glued to them the whole time, thinking about how to address the hand squeeze. He wouldn’t forget that easily. However, they were home at last, and it deserved celebrating.

For now, all was well.

#rurouni kenshin #kamiya koshijiro #kenkao #kenshingumi #it's about the bonding in this chapter #and setting up for later chapters #i said december 31 but i finished writing just a few minutes before midnight so that counts

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 18

I meant to finish this by Valentine’s Day, but I was caught up with some stuff and realized I could add a scene. Last stop before the angst train! Edit: FF.net and AO3 links here!

Interlude: An Overdue Celebration

Koshijiro made the proposition over breakfast. “Kaoru? When would you like to celebrate your birthday?”

“Huh? It’s already August.” She sipped from her bowl of miso, raising her eyebrows.

“It is overdue, but I was absent for last year’s as well. If you’d like, we can spend a day in town. I’ll cover every expense.”

Immediately, she brightened. “Then, why don’t we all do something at the end of the week? How does Friday sound?” She looked across the table, meeting the eyes of the others.

Sagara was the first to decline. “Actually, I already had plans with Katsu and some other guys. Hope you have fun though.”

“Same, I signed up for an extra shift at the Akabeko.” Yahiko resumed shoveling rice grains into his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s alright. And of course, Megumi probably has patients.” Kaoru’s gaze drifted towards the empty space where the doctor usually sat. She was diving into her work lately, especially since there was no progress from Aizu yet. The only update was that the department was continuing to scour through reports of missing persons.

“This one will come along.” Himura spoke up. His voice didn’t betray any eagerness, but his smile widened. Even more so, when Kaoru leaned towards him with a delighted expression.

Koshijiro gave a slight nod. “So, it will be the three of us.” In fact, he couldn’t complain. He had meant to address a particular hand-squeezing incident. The weekend was spent recovering from travel, and it felt like time was slipping away beneath them.

“It’ll be fun!” Kaoru began to clear away the dishes. “Kenshin, do you know what season you were born in?”

He blinked at her, obviously surprised by the question. “Oro? This one thinks it was summer, in June.”

June was also the month Kaoru was born in. She beamed, reveling in the similarity. “Really? Me too! Why don’t we celebrate together? Right, Otou-san?”

“I don’t see why not. Then, let’s plan for Friday.”

Fortunately, it was a pleasant morning; white clouds billowed across the sky, a refreshing wind cooling their faces as they walked out of the house. Although Koshijiro didn’t mention it, he noticed that his daughter had dressed up. Her lips were tinted with the Kyoto rouge, and she wore a kimono he’d rarely seen. It was a very light blue, mizu-iro, and like water itself, the fabric was smooth and sleek. Her ponytail was bound in the flower-patterned ribbon that Himura had won for her.

“Kaoru-dono, what do you have in mind for today?” To an outsider, Himura wasn’t acting out of the ordinary. However, his gaze had lingered on her hair when she left her room and his smile hadn’t faltered at all.

“I have some ideas but I was thinking about visiting Okaa-san’s grave first.” She glanced at Koshijiro.

A bittersweet feeling overcame him. The sorrowful ache over Kyoko’s absence, the wistfulness that she could see their girl now, and pride for Kaoru’s filial piety. “If we do, I’d like to buy flowers for her. I tended the family plot while you were away, but the deutzia must have withered already.” 

This time, chrysanthemums were abundant and a bright yellow cluster was suitable. The headstones didn’t need another scrubbing, but Kaoru lit incense for all three before addressing her mother’s. “Hi, Okaa-san.” She softly greeted, clasping her hands together. “I came home safely, with Otou-san and Kenshin. Oh, Kenshin, you’ve never been here before.”

“No, but this one will pay respects too.” He mirrored her, bowing his head. It was a kind gesture, and Kaoru gave a little smile before resuming.

A breeze swept through, carrying the incense’s fragrance, and Koshijiro closed his eyes. No one spoke, and when Kaoru made a slight movement, they quietly shuffled away together.

“Okaa-san never went to the old capital.” She thoughtfully mused. “I think she would have liked touring around.”

“She was certainly curious. Years ago, before you were born, we read novels that were set in Kyoto. I can’t recall any of the titles now though.”

“Because you were completely focused on Okaa-san.” His daughter gave a knowing grin. “Speaking of which, I’d like to buy more books. I’ve run out of reading material, and Tae wrote me a list of recommendations.”

There were plenty of bookstores, but their favorite place required a longer walk. It had been established at the beginning of the Meiji era, and the growing translations of Western texts had earned a separate shelf. Kaoru took her time perusing, Himura trailing behind. From Koshijiro’s observations, he didn’t read as much for pleasure, and while he looked about in his usual mild-mannered way, he only skimmed the titles.

“They’re rarer, but books of kenjutsu can be located in the back corner.” Koshijiro abruptly said. “If you’re interested, Himura-san.”

He seemed to consider it. “This one didn’t have a formal education in the sword. Shishou is…blunt in his explanations, and after this one left, there was even less from this one’s superiors.”

“I have no doubts regarding your skill and experience, but there is value in recognizing the history. It is never too late to learn.”

“That is certainly what a teacher would say.” Himura smiled. “And what about Kamiya Kasshin’s book?”

Koshijiro was surprised. “You’ve read it?”

“He was in the dojo when I showed Yahiko a few pages.” Kaoru clarified. “Yesterday, Yahiko wanted to know more about the succession techniques. You were at work, so I brought out the book. And you’ve already started adding the one-handed version!”

“The three kata I have worked out so far, and Hizadome. I may have to edit in the future. It isn’t as polished as the books that are published.”

“Well, nobody else could write about ‘the sword that protects life’.” Kaoru argued. Perhaps unconsciously, they had drifted to the back corner. “Every page conveyed your true thoughts, Otou-san. Even Yahiko said it was like he was hearing your voice.”

“This one agrees. Kamiya-dono’s words were forthright and thorough. If there were previous edits, this one could not tell.” Himura lifted a volume, inspecting the cover. “Is this a good one for history?”

Kaoru burst into laughter, and Koshijiro answered. “It’s intended for beginners. But it was a favorite of Kaoru’s when she was younger.”

“I still have my copy at home.” She managed to say.

“Ah, is that so? May this one borrow yours?”

“Of course!”

Kaoru had chosen two slim books for her own leisure, and while she paid, Koshijiro tucked them under his arm. He ignored her sound of protest. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold them.”

“Otou-san…” She rolled her eyes but continued to lead on.

They spent the next hour in the marketplace, discovering what was newly available. Artisans were advertising their latest creations, woodblocks and pottery and metalworks. A store selling beauty products had opened, but the sight of the long line caused them to steer clear. The little detour took them past a kimono shop, and when Kaoru lingered, Koshijiro nodded.

“Let’s go inside. You deserve a new outfit.”

“I don’t really need anything new!”

“And I owe you for two birthdays. I said I would cover every expense.” He stepped past her to enter the quaint building. The employees called out a greeting, which he easily returned. The interior was well-organized, and there was a wealth of options. Towards the front, the dyes were vivid, brightly suitable for young girls. Further within, there were stands that showcased lavish formal attire, though the majority were targeted for women with families of their own. The summer yukata were giving way to the warmer colors and weaves for autumn. Nothing was obviously Western, but some of the patterns were more modern, experimenting with recent fashion.

“Geez, Otou-san’s survival was enough of a present.” Kaoru grumbled. “Oh…this is pretty.” She had caved, her fingertips hovering over a bolt of green fabric. Himura looked over her shoulder, examining it as well.

A matronly woman, a few years older than Koshijiro, approached. Her bearing was the picture of self-assurance; she seemed to be the shopkeeper and addressed Kaoru. “We have limited supply of that silk, but we can tailor what we have to fit you. Would you be willing to have your measurements taken? Your father and husband can wait here.”

Koshijiro struggled to maintain a neutral face, while Kaoru blushed. “Well, you’re half right. Otou-san, Kenshin, I’ll be right back.” She followed the shopkeeper to the rear end, behind a folding screen for privacy. Soon enough, she was chatting with the seamstresses, who thought her eyes were pretty.

Himura’s face was turned away from Koshijiro, so his expression couldn’t be discerned. A cloud of awkward silence descended. Koshijiro gave a cursory scan to the rest of the place, but anything would have looked suitable on his daughter.

“You seem to be at a loss, Kamiya-dono.” Himura quietly noted.

“If there were kenjutsu uniforms, I could help in choosing. Otherwise, I am useless in these matters.”

Himura smiled. “You say that, but you are a doting father.”

Embarrassed, he deflected. “It’s also what her mother would have done.” If Kyoko was living, the two of them would have enjoyed picking out clothes together, like how they did in the past. Kyoko’s features had livened up, Kaoru grinning as she showed off what she was interested in.

“From her portrait, she looked like a gentle person. Kaoru-dono resembles her very much.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Koshijiro paused. “And like my wife did, Kaoru displays her emotions freely. It is easy for her to befriend people, and she’s usually the one who first reaches out. When we came home, I noticed that you took her hand.”

A heartbeat followed, as Himura broke eye contact. However, he wasn’t trying to escape Koshijiro’s gaze; instead, he extended his fingers, recalling the moment. “In this one’s duel with Shishio, this one was close to death. This one had near misses in the past, but it was the first time it was extremely dire. And amidst the encroaching darkness, Kaoru-dono’s words resonated. To go home together, to return to Tokyo together. That thought compelled this one to summon the last of his strength. This one could not have won, without the will to live.”

“You’ve already told Kaoru this.” He phrased it like a question, though he had overheard the tail end of their conversation.

“Yes. When we were finally back and she offered her hand, it was…important to this one. It felt like this one’s deepest wish was heard. This one intended to share that sentiment, to tell her the journey to Kyoto was finally over and not in vain.”

“We understood you didn’t want to leave, but we couldn’t let you endure the burden alone. That is what family means.” Koshijiro resolutely said. “So, was that all you felt, when you held her hand?”

Himura stared at him. His expression was usually carefully placid, but for an instant, there was a slip in his composure. He knew what Koshijiro was implying, the unspoken question of what he felt for Kaoru.

“Alright, I’m done!” Kaoru interrupted, walking briskly towards them.

Himura’s answer would have to wait another day, and he inquired. “How did it go?”

“It was nice to feel, but the price is beyond our budget. I’ll keep looking.” She insisted. Half an hour later, she settled on a soft gold like the color of the harvest moon, embroidered with five-petaled vermillion flowers, falling towards the hem. It would be elegant, and the price was reasonable. The shop informed them it would be ready in a couple weeks, and they took their leave.

At the end of the street, there was another shop, with a wider range of clothing. Judging by the view offered through a glass window, the attire was targeted more towards men.

“Look, they have Western hats.” Kaoru was intrigued. “I wonder if they were made here or shipped from overseas.”

“Would you like a hat, Kaoru-dono?”

“Not for me, but I think you could wear one.” She smiled thoughtfully. “Soon, it’ll be getting colder, and a hat will keep your head warm.”

“This one wouldn’t know how to decide.” He demurred.

Koshijiro seized the opportunity to suggest. “It doesn’t have to be a hat. You can choose whatever you’d like. Every expense includes yours.”

Himura was taken aback. “Oro?!”

“This is also your birthday outing, and you deserve to have clothes of your own. Please, go ahead. Or if there’s another place you’d rather visit, we can follow.”

“No, this one has no issue with this store, but…” He scratched the back of his neck, uncharacteristically flustered. “Thank you. Kaoru-dono and Kamiya-dono, this one is grateful for your kindness.”

There were more customers here, but that was alright; Himura already knew what he wanted. A gi for the impending fall season, possibly thick enough to wear in the winter too.

The task sparked Kaoru’s enthusiasm. “This purple isn’t too bad, but…no, it reminds me of eggplant and not the fresh kind. Or what about stripes?” She held the fabric to Himura’s chest, trying to determine if it was suitable. Was it the crowdedness or was Himura blushing?

In the end, they decided on red, very similar to his favorite. The owner was fascinated by Himura’s coloring and believed that outfitting him would make for excellent publicity. A flat gray hat was added to the bargain, almost for free. The gi’s sleeves had to be adjusted before they left, and Koshijiro paid the total while Himura was being fitted.

He sensed his daughter’s gaze and cut a glance to her. “What is it?”

“Nothing! I’m happy.” She beamed, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

He smiled at the top of her head. The part in her hair brought up a memory of when she was a baby, sleeping against his shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”

At this point, it was lunchtime, and they stopped by home to drop off the new purchases. Kaoru hurried into her room, grabbing her kenjutsu book and offering it with one hand. “Here, Kenshin. Take good care of it, okay?”

“This one will.” He accepted the copy, but she seemed to hesitate. In fact, she looked shy.

“Um, I have something else for you.” Her other hand was behind her back, and she slowly revealed a folded square. “I started sewing after the battle, but I was able to finish it last night. It’s a handkerchief.”

“Kaoru-dono…” He visibly swallowed, gently taking it from her fingers. He held one corner, letting the fabric cascade. “It’s beautiful.”

The handkerchief was between blue and gray, with an embroidery of maple leaves along the diagonal crease. The impression was that the leaves were floating on a pond’s surface or tossed into an overcast sky. Koshijiro thought it was fine work.

“I’m just glad you like it.” Kaoru nervously laughed.

“This one does. Very much.” He was focused on her, intensely so. Then, he jolted. “This one also had a gift, though it doesn’t compare. This one intended to surprise you but would you like to see it now?”

“I’d love to. Kenshin, I didn’t expect you to do anything.” She said, as he led the way into the yard. Specifically, the shed.

He opened the door. “This one didn’t exactly work on it. In the market, this one spotted the first and requested the entire set.”

Kaoru was standing in front, and she gasped, rushing to the left wall. When she knelt, Koshijiro saw what she had received. A row of four clay pots, each containing a pair of white lilies. “Are these for the garden?”

“Yes, this one intended to plant them later today…” He crouched as well, an arm’s length away.

“It can wait, today’s for celebrating.” She leaned close to the petals, breathing in the sweet perfume.

“That’s true. Happy birthday, two months late.”

“And happy birthday to you too. Thank you so much.” Her smile was brilliant.

A few seconds passed, before Koshijiro made his presence known with a clearing of his throat. “The handkerchief and the lilies are both lovely. We can stay in for lunch, if you two prefer.”

“Oh, no.” Kaoru stood once more, brushing herself off. “I was looking forward to eating kushiyaki. The skewers in Kyoto weren’t the same.”

They had a pleasant meal in a grassy area, like an outdoor picnic. The grilled sweetfish and vegetables had the aroma of charcoal, and just the right amount of salt. With the rising heat, the refreshing texture of mizu yokan was appropriate for dessert. Once the small portions of lightly sweetened agar were finished off, they lingered to enjoy the weather before diving back into the bustle of town.

“Where are we headed to next?” Koshijiro asked.

Kaoru tapped her chin with her index finger. “The new theater always has plays, and I heard that a famous rakugo performer is having a show today.” However, that plan never came to fruition.

“Hey, it’s Kenshin!” A young boy called out, and a glimpse through the crowd revealed that it was Eiji. He was alone, shouldering a small sack, and he caught up to them. “Kamiya-san, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you too. And you’re Kamiya Kaoru, aren’t you?”

Kaoru blinked. “That’s right. I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Eiji-kun is the boy who this one met on the road to Kyoto.” Himura explained.

“Ah, so you’re Eiji-kun! It’s nice to meet you. Kenshin’s already using the basket you made him.”

Eiji was more bashful than Yahiko about compliments, and his ears reddened as he scuffed the dirt with his shoe. “That’s good. Tokio-san said I can weave more in my free time. I don’t want to forget knowing how, because Saito-san is going to train me soon.”

“When he returns?” Himura attempted to clarify, but Eiji shook his head.

“He’s already home.”

“Oro?”

“What the heck?! But Otou-san, you said he wasn’t at work this week.” Kaoru turned to him.

“I wasn’t aware he was in Tokyo.” Even Koshijiro couldn’t conceal his surprise. “No one at the station told me.”

“Well, he showed up late last night. He didn’t sleep in this morning either, but Tokio-san told me he needs to rest. Do you want to talk to him?”

Himura recovered first. “This one has been meaning to. However, it can wait until Saito has recovered.”

“It’s fine. He’s acting like normal, anyway.” Eiji took the quickest route. He was now accustomed to traversing the streets, and he looked like he had filled out, his appearance healthier. He had adjusted well to living in Tokyo.

When they reached the house, Tokio was sweeping the front step. Her eyes widened, and then, she smiled. “Eiji-kun, I only sent you to buy more buckwheat flour.”

“I met them on the way back. Is it okay for them to visit?”

“I have no issue, but go and see him first. He’s on a smoke break. Kamiya-san, I’m glad to see that you’re well.” She accepted the flour sack and gestured for them to step inside, introducing herself. “I’m Saito Tokio. Himura-san, I suppose, and you must be Kamiya Kaoru. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both.”

“Likewise.” Himura nodded. “Your husband has spoken very favorably of you.”

At that moment, a loud pattering preceded the arrival of the youngest family member. Tsutomu stared at the unfamiliar faces, as he walked over to his mother.

“And this is Tsutomu.” Tokio wryly said. “You remember Kamiya-san, don’t you? And to the others, say hello.”

“…H’lo.”

Kaoru and Himura had been surprised by the little boy’s appearance, but they met the toddler at eye level. Kaoru waved. “Hi there, Tsutomu-chan. You’re a cutie, hm?”

Himura had extended his fingers, coaxing. “Can you shake?”

Tsutomu readily did, and his smile had more teeth than Koshijiro last recalled. He then turned to Kaoru, clutching her knee.

She looked to Tokio. “Is it alright if I hold him?”

“Yes, he seems to like you.”

Kaoru lifted the boy by the armpits, rising to her feet as well, and easily perched him on her hip. “There we go!” Her pose was natural; when the dojo was filled with students, she would often play with the youngest children during breaks. She was occupied with making entertaining expressions, that she didn’t notice Himura’s considering stare.

Tokio lightly remarked. “I’ve actually wanted to talk with you, Kaoru-san. Your father can attest to that. Eiji-kun, why don’t you show him and Himura-san to the yard?”

“Sure.” Eiji dutifully obeyed, beckoning them to follow.

Saito was standing in the center, his left hand raised to his mouth. He was in such deep thought that he didn’t immediately react when Eiji called out to him. Then, he did a double take and coughed on his cigarette. He had never lost his composure before. Smoke trailed out of his mouth, as he harshly asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Eiji-kun was kind enough to invite us.” Koshijiro coolly replied. “Welcome back.”

“It’s good that you returned safely.” Himura added. “This one hopes your mission was successful.”

“Productive.” He took another pull. “I accomplished my objective.”

“Uncovering Shishio’s supporters?”

“Yes. They’ve been dealt with, swiftly and appropriately. Nothing more, nothing less.” His tone was ominous. “And how is your investigation progressing, Kamiya-san? Sawagejo reported that he’s keeping surveillance on a Chinese company.”

“There are some potential candidates among the higher-ups, but we haven’t definitively identified the source yet.”

“Keep me updated. All of the others denied knowledge of the warship’s backer, even after persuasive measures. That isn’t promising.” It was an unusually honest admission.

“It would mean this person acted alone.” Himura carefully said.

“Alone, on their own terms. Either Shishio was sticking his burnt fingers in darker business, or this person crept out of the shadows to make use of him. I can sense evil, but I can’t grasp it.” He crushed the remnants of his cigarette without flinching.

“Can this one assist?”

“Weren’t you on the verge of death?” Saito bluntly retorted. “You must be deconditioned. Focus on your own ability, before you offer anything you can’t give.”

If Himura was annoyed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he dipped his head. “You are well aware, of where you can find this one.”

“And I’d like to be informed too.” Koshijiro said. “The flow of information goes both ways. We can only help each other if we compare notes.”

“Outside of the station. Not a word while we’re on the clock.” But Saito agreed. He walked towards them, placing a hand on Eiji’s shoulder. “Eiji-kun can relay a message in an emergency.”

“Because I’m his apprentice!” Eiji puffed up, proud of his new role.

“So, if you want notes, come and see them now.”

Inside, the sound of laughter was audible; Kaoru and Tokio were sitting at the table, a tea tray between them. Tsutomu had found his way to his mother’s lap, idly playing with a temari ball while the women conversed. Kaoru was in the midst of telling a story, and from the occasional sentence that drifted past, it was of a past tournament where Kamiya Kasshin had placed first among the participants.

Saito didn’t stop, sliding a door that presumably led to his workspace. It was as organized as his space in the police department, and he unlocked a desk drawer with a small key, removing files. “Of course, I looked into the backgrounds of most of the Ten Swords. Sadojima and Komagata were of particular interest, since they were the primary negotiators for anyone who came into contact with the group.”

Himura began sifting through. “Were there any from overseas?”

“Where would I even start?” Saito scoffed. “China itself is a vast nation, if that’s what you were leading up to.”

“It was, but this one doubts our mystery individual manipulated only Shishio. In other words, it is likely that Shishio is the latest addition to a grander scheme. If there were other criminal cases that were funded in similar ways, it could be worth investigating.”

“If we obtain a solid lead.” He was dismissive but said as an afterthought. “I have contacts who are more versed in international matters.”

They continued to read and discuss, until there was a gentle knocking. Tokio peered in, light spilling from behind her. “It’ll soon be sunset. Do you need candles?”

Koshijiro sharply inhaled, hastily restoring the papers in his hand to their original location. “We’re late. Himura-san, Kaoru, we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

The door opened further, revealing Kaoru’s regretful face. “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, and I was caught up in talking to Tokio-san.”

“It’s alright. We still have time.” Himura reassured. They put on their shoes, the sun was already dipping towards the horizon. “We’re going home to meet with the others, but we are eating at the Akabeko tonight. Would you like to join us?”

Tokio shook her head. “We already have dinner plans, but thank you for the offer. Perhaps, some other time? And if you wish, you can visit us whenever you’d like.”

Saito was obviously displeased. “Tokio…”

“Speaking of which, isn’t there something you have to say, dear?” She leveled a firm look at him.

An excruciating pause stretched on. At last, he sighed, narrowing his eyes at all of them. “Your effort was adequate. I appreciate it. Are you happy now?” He directed a forced smile to his wife.

“Not yet, but I have plenty of suggestions on how you can make it up to me, our son, and Eiji-kun.” There was a core of steel in her voice, and it was apparent that even Saito couldn’t withstand it. “Now then, we shouldn’t delay you three any further. I hope you have a good evening.”

“Take care, Tokio-san and Eiji-kun. Saito-san, I’ll see you at work.” Koshijiro said.

“Bring Himura, if he isn’t occupied with living softly.”

“You don’t have to worry.” Himura evenly replied. “This one is willing to assist.”

“It was really nice to meet you, Tokio-san.” Kaoru was suppressing a laugh. “And of course, Tsutomu-chan and Eiji-kun. Feel free to come to the dojo!”

The boys eagerly waved, and Tokio bowed at the waist. Saito gave the barest nod of acknowledgement, but the distance he had maintained was shrinking.

At their own front door, Yahiko and Sagara were already waiting. They were busying themselves with a game of Go, and judging by his frustration, Sagara was on the cusp of losing. He immediately broke off the match, loudly announcing. “Hey, it took you long enough! The only one missing is the fox.”

“And I’m right here!” Takani responded, as she stormed through the gate. Her red lips were pressed into a line. “I had to drop off my clinic bag at my place. And because I don’t forget my manners…happy birthday, Ken-san and Kaoru.” She pointedly said.

“Thank you, Megumi-dono.”

“Thanks, Megumi.”

Sagara grabbed Himura by the shoulder, digging his knuckles into red hair. “Congrats, Kenshin, you’re a whole year older! You too, Jou-chan.”

“Happy birthday.” Yahiko grinned. “Next year, we’ll have a better plan. Wait…are we gonna do a joint birthday every year?”

Himura tilted his head. “Oro?”

“Yahiko, why don’t we get through today first?” Nevertheless, Kaoru was faintly blushing. “Let’s go!”

The sky was a shade of wisteria as they approached the restaurant. Sagara and Yahiko were leading ahead, with Himura and Kaoru a few paces back. Koshijiro was about to catch up to them, when Takani murmured.

“I’ve received a letter from Aizu.” She had been trailing the group, and though she claimed to be tired, fatigue wasn’t the sole reason.

“The department didn’t contact me, but what did it say?”

“Nothing regarding my family.” She clarified. “It was written by a former colleague of my father’s. He runs a hospital but he’d like to open a clinic run by Aizu doctors. I’m always welcome there. But…I don’t think I can leave yet. We just came back and if I’m being conservative, everyone else is still recovering from their injuries. I sent my reply, that I need time to think it over.”

It seemed like she was conflicted, but Koshijiro only said. “That’s understandable. It is a serious decision.”

“Yes, it is.” She lapsed into silence again and picked up her pace to join the rest of the group.

The interior of the Akabeko was brightly lit, and when they entered, a cheer went up. “Happy birthday!” Every face was recognizable. Dr. Gensai, with his family. Maekawa and Sachi, his students and those from other dojos. Sano’s friend, Tsunan, and acquaintances from town they had spoken to and helped. Chief Uramura had brought his wife and daughter, and the rookies were in attendance.

Tae beamed, showing them to their table. “It’s a special occasion, so Sagara-kun and Yahiko-kun invited everybody they could think of.”

“Almost everyone.” Sagara amended. “The carpenter was unfortunately busy.”

The curtain to the kitchen lifted, and Tsubame set down a sheet of paper. “I found it, Tae-san! This is the menu for the birthday dinner.”

“Good job, Tsubame, I was worried I misplaced it. It’s a selection of your favorite dishes, Kaoru. Kenshin-san, I believe your tastes align with hers, but request whatever you’d like. And save room for dessert, I tried making kasutera for the first time. It’s not too bad!” She confided.

Kaoru had been stunned from the moment they walked in, but now, she laughed, wiping her eyes. “Geez, everyone, this is amazing! Really, it’s the best birthday I’ve had in a while. Kenshin?”

He didn’t respond right away, his throat working. “…Yes, this one feels the same. It is more than this one could have wished for.”

Applause broke out, especially from the people who had started drinking early. Koshijiro had resorted to tapping his porcelain cup with his chopsticks, and it was why he could hear Tsubame whisper. “Yahiko-kun, what about you?”

“Shh, Tsubame!” He hushed her, but Koshijiro caught on.

“Were you born in August, Yahiko?”

“Well…yeah. We can celebrate mine later, today is for those two.” He shrugged. 

“But I won’t forget. We’ll make sure to do something for you, before the month ends.”

“I’ll write it down too, on the paper you bought for me.” Tsubame smiled, intending to make use of his gift from Kyoto. Himura had been right, after all.

The atmosphere was raucous, and the food was excellent. And Kaoru was happy, warmly speaking with each guest. Everyone was having a good time, Koshijiro thought. That was when he noticed. In the corner of his eye, Himura was sitting still. He had pulled out the handkerchief and was staring at it once more, in deep contemplation.

#rurouni kenshin #kenkao #kamiya koshijiro #having overdue in the title put an extra delay on it smh

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 16

It’s May 14 again. This chapter has a scene in here that I wrote in February, which I had a lot of fun writing. Enjoy under the cut, on FF.net, or AO3!

Chapter 16: Three Frogs

A perimeter had been placed and officers were sent out, though ultimately, the wait wasn’t long. Due to a personnel change, Koshijiro was filling in for jail liaison. It was only for the remainder of the week, until the usual designated officer returned to duty. And thankfully so. The chief jailer was a haughty man, who believed that everyone had something to answer for and would gladly unveil it to the world. He was waxing on about prominent criminals, while guiding Koshijiro through.

In short, conditions were not good. There were puddles from where the roof had leaked, and a dense smell of mold. The cell floors were covered in straw, punctuated with darkened stains. It appeared that the only effort at improving the jail in the last ten years was given to the heavy metal locks. Koshijiro made a mental list, intending to properly document everything later. He recognized most of the surly, staring faces, the gang members that had been apprehended.

“I’ll have this town on a string!” A shout came from further down, and there was a commotion to subdue him. Koshijiro caught a brief glimpse at who it was: glasses set upon a pointed face, oily hair. Takeda Kanryuu was lost in a rant, and fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice Koshijiro as he was struggling against the crowd of officers.

Given the disruption, the tour’s pace was increased, but Koshijiro forced them to a halt. Inside one of the cells, there was the boy from the forest. He seemed calmer than before; in fact, he looked bored with his current situation.

“That’s the lost child.” Koshijiro said. “He was found?”

“Oh, that’s him? He was arrested because he was picking through the trash behind a food stall.”

“And what about his cellmate?” The figure on the opposite end was unfamiliar but just as young. This boy seemed more proper, wearing a small hat and sitting patiently. However, his hopeful eyes never left the men.

“Inoue Aran is from Yoshiwara, a prostitute’s child. We found him trying to stow away on one of the ships bound for America.”

“Do either of them have family?”

“No, Inoue claims his mother died of influenza a few years ago, and the other, Ashitaro, said he was from Hasegawa. We have descriptions from that area, mentioning a notorious thief. So, he was a bad child.”

“All I see is a hungry child. Two, in fact. Take them out of there.”

“But they committed crimes.”

“Then, please show the paperwork to me.” The jailer had to acquiesce, though grudgingly so. Now that he had plenty of experience, Koshijiro could easily locate the loopholes. Before noon, he was walking the boys out, into the summer day.

“Um, thank you so much!” Aran bowed, keeping a tight grip on his hat. “I’m very grateful, Kamiya-san.”

“It was no trouble.”

First and foremost, he informed the station that there was no need to continue the search. Then, he took them back to the dojo, to clean up. Ashitaro needed very little coaxing to jump into the tub, but Aran was a different story. He was fine with scrubbing his hands but adamantly refused anything further.

“I’m already clean, so I don’t need a bath!” It was a blatant lie. The jail gave no regard to hygiene.

Koshijiro studied him. “Please tell me the truth. I won’t punish you, I only want to understand why. Are you afraid of water?”

“N-no…ah, Ashitaro!”

The other boy had slipped just under the water, the surface bubbling. Aran hurried over and pulled Ashitaro by the arm. Ashitaro flailed and splashed, his expression utterly disappointed.

“Why’d you do that?”

“You were drowning!”

“I was holding my breath. And what happened to your hair?” Some of the water had reached Aran’s head and as the drops streamed down his face, they left dark trails. In the dim light, Aran’s hair was pale. Very pale.

Aran grabbed the strands, whimpering when he saw his hands came away smeared black. “Okaa-san used to say my father was a foreigner, that I have hair like his. Are you going to throw me out now?”

“No, of course not. My mother-in-law’s hair was quite like yours. Even if your father was a foreigner, you have done nothing wrong. If it makes you feel better, we can dye your hair again. After you bathe.” He pointedly added.

“…okay.” Aran finally agreed. “Do you live by yourself, Ojii-san?”

“No. The rest of my household is in Kyoto and won’t return for some time.”

“What are they doing?” Ashitaro asked. “I was just there a few days ago.”

“They just finished important work, to preserve this country’s safety and peace, and it was a hard-fought battle. I’m not sure how much you noticed if you were in the area. But how did you get from Kyoto to here?”

“I ran. Fast.” He nonchalantly replied, like it was nothing special. Then, he pointed to Koshijiro’s left. “What happened to your arm?”

“Was it a gun?” Aran joined in. “Have you ever used one?”

Their questions occupied the rest of the time spent in the bathhouse, and even while they were getting dressed. The only clothes in their sizes were kenjutsu uniforms, and while Aran picked at the loose threads on his, Ashitaro didn’t seem to mind at all.

“This is a sword school?” Ashitaro surveyed the dojo.

“Yes, this is Kamiya Kasshin, which teaches the use of the sword to protect people. Are you interested in learning?”

He shook his head. “I already have a master. Or had. He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“But I know how to use a sword.” He seemed very sure of this. “So I can handle the basics.”

“That’s good to know. Thank you for telling me.” He turned to Aran, who was pulling his hat down over his temples. “What were you using to blacken your hair?”

“Shoe polish.” It must have been contaminated, if it was easily removed by water.

“...let’s try to find a better alternative.” But before they could, the boys’ stomachs loudly called for a detour to the Akabeko.

Tae actually recognized Ashitaro. “I think I’ve seen you once or twice, when I was taking out the trash.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve dug up some of the leftovers. They’re good.”

She blinked at that revelation but quickly recovered. “Well, food tastes much better when it’s freshly made. What would you like? It’s summer, so we have our seasonal menu. Today’s lunch special is somen noodles with side dishes of chilled tofu and goma-ae, vegetables in sesame sauce.” She explained.

It did sound delicious, and three sets were ordered. Ashitaro scarfed down his portion in no time, and that wild look in his eyes returned. His gaze then darted to Koshijiro’s noodles, but Tae was pleased as she brought over another serving. Meanwhile, Aran had noticed Tsubame and attempted to call her over. However, he was stopped by Koshijiro, telling him to leave her to her work. Also, Yahiko would have been grinding his teeth, if he was present.

After the dishes were emptied and cleared, Koshijiro generously tipped Tae. “Thank you, Sekihara-san. Everything was excellent.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She beamed. “Take care! Give everyone in Kyoto my regards, I’m sure Kaoru will be happy to have more students.”

“Well, that hasn’t been finalized yet.”

To be honest, their lack of interest wasn’t very promising. It was becoming likelier and likelier, that Kamiya Kasshin was not the path for them. Aran was more inclined to scholarly pursuits, while Ashitaro needed far more attention than swordsmanship alone could give. Both of them required diligent upbringing, and as much as he was concerned for them, he wasn’t sure whether he could provide that at the moment. As they walked to the market, he continued to ponder over the matter.

“Kamiya-sensei! Is that you?” At the voice, he turned, only to be immediately clapped on the back by a burly figure. A sun-weathered, grizzled face broke into a wide smile. “It’s been a while! Four years?”

When he recovered his breath, Koshijiro greeted the man. “Takeuchi-sensei. I was unaware you were in Tokyo.” Takeuchi had also taught kenjutsu in Chiba, before traveling to Hokkaido to start a new branch. They had attended a few tournaments in the past, and Koshijiro thought highly of the school he regarded as a distant cousin to Kamiya Kasshin. They caught up, with Koshijiro briefly sharing the story of his amputation upon Takeuchi’s puzzled look.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad to see you’re alive. I was visiting the main school, to pay my respects to an old friend who didn’t make it. I’m here until the end of the week, before I return to Hakodate.” He noticed the boys and smiled. “Are these your students?”

Koshijiro quietly explained the situation. Takeuchi hummed, looking over them.

“So, you’re interested in the sword, huh? If you’d like, I can take you with me to Hokkaido. I’m just an old bachelor, but I can teach you how to hunt and fish as well.”

Ashitaro perked up at that. “We can eat the things we catch?”

“It’s harder than you think, but mostly, yes. Would you like to come with me, when I leave on Friday?”

“Sure.”

“…I’ll go if Ashitaro is.” Aran reluctantly agreed.

Given that he was lodging with a friend, Takeuchi was unable to take them before his voyage. But he insisted on giving ‘money for groceries’, depositing a full bag of coins into Aran’s hands. Before Koshijiro could say anything more, his friend was already crossing the street, saying. “I’ll find some warmer clothes for you! See you later!”

“Is he going to come back?” Ashitaro was doubtful.

“He can be impulsive, but he’s honest.” Koshijiro said. “Let’s continue. If either of you find something you like, tell me.”

Hair dye apparently came in miniscule, overpriced bottles. The vendor was a shrewd haggler, under the impression that it was for Koshijiro’s gray hairs. It was slightly annoying.

As he paid for the expensive item, Aran had drifted off to a nearby couple in their thirties, selling books. He was so engrossed in perusing, he didn’t notice the sudden gust of wind. His hat went flying, and he cried out, doubling over to hide. The woman automatically covered his head, as the man chased after the hat. He brushed it off, and he set it more securely over Aran’s head.

Koshijiro rushed over. “Aran-kun, are you alright?”

“Y-yes…” Tears gathered in his eyes, he was so shaken.

“And thank you, for looking after him.” He addressed the couple.

“You’re welcome. Is he your son?” The woman asked.

“No, he’s in my custody for the week. I’m Kamiya.”

The man introduced himself. “I’m Wada Norihiko, and this is my wife, Yuri. Aran-kun, was it? You’re of mixed blood, aren’t you?” The question wasn’t accusatory. “I once had a sister. We were poor then and she was sold. Um…” He swallowed. “If she was sent to the foreign quarters, she could have had a child like you. Where is your mother?”

“She’s dead.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.” He rapidly blinked. “Do you not have any family?”

“No one wants me.” Aran tugged at his hat, frowning.

“But even if you’re half foreign, you’re also half Japanese.” The reply was gentle, as his wife knelt to meet Aran at eye-level.

“I’ve met all kinds of people and I’ve learned it doesn’t matter what you look like.” She took his hands. “If you come with us, we’ll look after you and teach you everything we can. This country is beautiful, so please don’t give up on it.”

Koshijiro asked. “Aran-kun? Would you like to stay with Ashitaro-kun, or would you rather travel with this couple?”

He hesitated. “I…I don’t know. I like books, but Ashitaro would be alone…”

“Go.” Ashitaro spoke up. “Don’t worry about me, I like eating more than books. Let’s do what we like on our own, and when we’re older, we’ll meet again.”

“If it’s meant to be, your paths will cross.” Koshijiro added. “And as a wise person once told me, some opportunities only come once, so you should reach out for them.”

“…Alright. I’ll take a good look at this country first, before I head for America.” He still hadn’t given up on his ultimate goal, but this was a better decision than stowing away on another ship.

The couple was currently staying at an inn, but Koshijiro told them to stop by the dojo when they were ready. That evening, Aran blackened his hair again, though the entire bottle was used. He didn’t seem to mind very much, the booksellers’ words ringing true.

The following day, Koshijiro heard there was an incident at the jail. One of the rookies gave the story.

“We found a group trying to break in, but they must have had poison, because the next thing we knew, they were dying.” Tomita grimaced. “Sorry, Kamiya-san. The only person who didn’t commit suicide was the youngest.” She was of a similar age to Ashitaro and Aran. Her name was Kubota Asahi, and that was the only other thing she had said since she had been taken into custody.

“I have arrangements for the other children, I can take her in for the week and see if she’s amenable to joining one of them.”

“Yeah, that’d be great! To be honest, I don’t want her to stay there. It’s no place for a little lady.”

He had to agree, especially with the unpleasant jailer who raved and ranted about breaking and entering. After fifteen minutes, Koshijiro’s patience ran dry and he nonchalantly mentioned the press. The implication of publicity earned him begrudging silence and the keys.

Asahi was a bright-eyed girl with delicate features. She didn’t flinch when Koshijiro unlocked her holding cell. “Am I free to go?”

“You are, but I’d like to find a home for you. I have two boys in my care; one will be going to Hokkaido with a friend of mine and the other will be traveling with a couple who sells books for a living. Would you be interested in joining either of them?”

She shrugged.

The wall of her indifference was a setback. “I’m not sure what other options are there. School, perhaps?”

“School?” She echoed. Obviously, that had caught her interest.

“Would you like to go to school and learn?”

“Ye-” Her gaze clouded over. “Never mind. I can’t read or write.”

Aran’s voice suddenly interrupted. “I can teach you!” He and Ashitaro must have grown bored of waiting, because they were standing in the hallway. “I’m already teaching Ashitaro, we’ve already written his new name.”

On cue, Ashitaro held up a piece of paper, with freshly inked kanji. The ‘bad child’ was now the ‘child of tomorrow’. It was a welcome improvement. “I did it in ten minutes.”

“That’s ten minutes of progress though!” Aran gave it a positive spin. “And even though we’ll be leaving soon, we can go over all the kana before then!”

She seemed receptive, and at last, she nodded. “Then, I’ll join you until I can go to school. I do like the uniforms.”

While Koshijiro endured the administrative work, the three huddled together on a bench. Aran began with the basics, writing hiragana and going over each in turn. For the most part, they were diligent. Asahi did tilt her head at Ashitaro, scrutinizing him, and her focus drew his attention.

He crossed his arms. “What?”

“Hmm. I was supposed to look for someone, but I’m not sure if you’re who he is.” Then, she smiled. “Well, it doesn’t matter now! I’m going to start a new life, and shine!”

It was raining lightly when he completed the paperwork for Asahi’s release, and he held an umbrella over the children. Outside the station, there was a young woman in Western clothing, frowning as she tried to keep her skirt dry under the eaves.

Koshijiro addressed her. “Miss, are you waiting for someone?”

“Oh, no. I’m just taking shelter for the moment. That’s nice of you to ask though.” She studied his face for a moment, before her features broke into a grin. “Kamiya-jiisan? Do you remember me? Ichikawa Hitomi, from Chiba!”

It had been years, but her voice had not changed very much, now that he listened more. The daughter of a prominent merchant, she was one of Kaoru’s childhood friends. She had moved to Tokyo around the same time the Kamiyas had, before her father’s work summoned her family abroad. She had recently returned to Japan, and she inquired after Kaoru.

“Kyoto?! What happened to her?”

“She’s visiting some ill friends. I’m sorry you missed her, but she’s well. She’s the new master of Kamiya Kasshin.”

“That’s amazing. Tell her I’m happy for her. And who are these little ones? Kaoru’s younger brothers and sister?” She looked at them curiously.

“No, they unfortunately have no family to speak for them. They are temporarily staying with me until Friday. Ashitaro-kun will be living with one of my old friends, while Aran-kun plans to travel with another couple. We are still searching for a place for Asahi-chan.” The girl was staring at Hitomi’s ensemble with wide interested eyes.

“Is that so? I’d take you if I could, but my living situation isn’t stable. My father’s work is about to end, and we’re not sure where we’re moving yet. I hope it’s here, but it wouldn’t be fair to you if we uproot you again. Not to mention we’re rarely home during the day…oh, I’m sorry, little one, but it can’t be helped.” Hitomi noticed Asahi’s slump of disappointment. She impatiently tapped a foot and stared at the gray clouds in thought before exclaiming. “Aha! I have a relative in Yokohama. She’s well-off, but her children are grown and she’s been lonely ever since her husband passed away. She’d like a companion; I think a girl like Asahi would be a good fit. Old enough to not need constant attention, still young enough to be educated. And dressed up! What do you think, Asahi-chan?”

“It sounds nice.” She tried to appear aloof, but her smile couldn’t be stifled.

“Excellent! I’ll send a telegram this afternoon.”

Koshijiro felt very fortunate, to have run into Kaoru’s friend. “That would be very kind of your relative, if she were to accept.”

“I’m sure she will. She’s the gentlest woman I know, I’ve never heard her raise her voice. I’ll do my best to convince her and let you know as soon as possible.” They exchanged contact information, the matter settled. “If I happen to be in town again, I hope to see Kaoru.”

“Thank you, and I think she’d be glad to see you too.” Pleased at how events had turned out, Koshijiro led the three children home. Asahi was given her privacy in the bathhouse, before nightfall. Dinner was fairly quiet, but afterwards, the trio played cards in a fast-paced game. Each round ended with a demand for the next and subsequent reshuffling; he had to remind them multiple times that it was time for bed. However, it was reassuring they were acting their age. Youth was fleeting, after all.

Two mornings later, their time together came to a close. He had already let Takeuchi know that only Ashitaro would be going to Hokkaido, and he had received a telegram from Hitomi’s relative, finalizing the agreement and that there was a nearby girls’ school. After breakfast, he wrote the children’s names on wooden plaques.

“These will remain here, to show that you’re always welcome at the Kamiya dojo. If you are in any trouble or simply want to visit, don’t hesitate to knock.”

For a moment, they stared at him, before they answered in a staggered chorus. “Okay!”

Hitomi met them at Shimbashi Station, to whisk Asahi off to Yokohama. She was in another fine Western outfit, and she gave a note to Koshijiro. “It’s for Kaoru-chan, I’d love to exchange letters with her.”

“I’ll give it to her tomorrow. Thank you again. Asahi-chan, I wish you well.”

Her round eyes blinked at him, before she shyly bowed. “Thank you very much.” As the train pulled away, the girls waved out the window.

Upon their return to the dojo, the Wada couple was already waiting for Aran. He and Ashitaro shook hands, in reminder of their promise. To Koshijiro, he said. “I’ve been practicing my kanji, so I can write too!”

“I look forward to it. Travel safely, Aran-kun.” The new family said their goodbyes, before they continued on their way. Aran only looked back once, but he seemed to have a bounce in his step.

Now, only Ashitaro was left. Koshijiro took the opportunity to broach the topic. “So, when I first saw you, you were in the forest. You appeared rather frantic.”

“I was just keeping something safe. It’s the last thing I have left from my master.” He didn’t seem inclined to share more than that, looking pensive, and Koshijiro did not want to press him further.

Takeuchi met them at the harbor, for he had been gathering his own supplies for the long journey ahead. He set down his bag, wiping sweat off his brow. “Thanks for waiting, Kamiya-sensei.”

“It was no trouble. Have you finished all of your preparations?”

“I did, even in this heat. Phew, it’s killin’ me. Hokkaido’s much cooler than this.” He informed Ashitaro. “Well, have you changed your mind?”

“Nope. I still want to go.”

“Good! Kamiya-sensei, I’ll send a message letting you know we made it.”

“I’d appreciate that. You’re in good hands, Ashitaro-kun, so take care.”

“Thanks. Oh, and uh,” He beckoned Koshijiro closer. “I’ll come back someday, don’t worry!”

He suspected it was for the memento the boy had buried, but he only reiterated. “The Kamiya dojo will always be open for you.”

The horn on their ship blared, and the pair boarded, Takeuchi confidently placing Ashitaro on his shoulders. Their figures disappeared, and soon enough, they were sailing out of Tokyo Bay.

Koshijiro sighed in relief. All three of them would be cared for, and someday, they’d look upon their rough pasts as distant memories. They had been frogs in a well, unaware of the wider world and what it had to offer. Hopefully, they would grow into accomplished young adults.

As he approached home, he almost bumped into a traveler, who quickly moved out of the way. He wasn’t any taller than Himura but he also had the bearing of a swordsman, though only a wooden baton was in his belt. He tipped his conical hat, in apology. “Sorry, sir.” He had a boyish face, unshaven and complete with a wide smile.

“It’s no trouble.” He went to unlock the gate.

The stranger hadn’t left, reading the sign. “This is the Kamiya dojo?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, I see. It really is a nice place.” He gave Koshijiro a thoughtful look, before smiling again. “Goodbye, sir!”

“Goodbye.” It was odd, but there wasn’t any sense of danger around this young man as he headed north.

***

At the Shirobeko, they were in the waning phase of the lunch rush. Most of the others were out, but Kaoru and Yahiko were helping. They had been given the staff’s uniforms too, complete with aprons. Out of courtesy for the guests, they spoke in the yard.

“I wanted Sano to join us.” The boy griped. Because he wasn’t strong enough yet to carry anything, his only task was wiping down tables. “He always laughs when he sees us wearing…these clothes. But noooo, he said he’d escort Megumi to the hospital, she wanted to do some research and learn more about new medicines.”

“It’s part of her job, so that’s understandable. By the way, this is for you.” He handed over Tsubame’s written reply, which he had picked up that morning, and Hitomi’s to his daughter. “And Kaoru, I happened to meet one of your old friends.”

She read the envelope, her eyes widening. “Hitomi? I thought she went to America. How…?”

“It’s a long story, and I don’t want to keep you from your responsibilities.”

But Sae, holding her letter from Tae, urged them to take their leave early, the floor was manageable now that it was slowing down. Upstairs would give them some privacy, and they could see Himura.

“He’s much better.” Kaoru said and indeed, he was. 

His bandages had remained in place, but he was propped up on fewer pillows and he inclined his head without any trace of weakness. “How are you, Kamiya-dono?”

“I’ve been well. There wasn’t a dull moment.” He told the story of the three children, from the initial encounter in the woods to safely seeing them off.

“I really thought they would have made good students, but I understand.” Kaoru conceded. “Yahiko, I guess you’re still the only one for now.”

“Uh-huh.” He was distracted, discreetly reading Tsubame’s letter ever since the Akabeko was mentioned. Then, he refolded it and stood up. “Er, I’m gonna go buy something. A snack.”

“You just ate.” She pointed out.

“And I’m hungry again after working!”

“This is a restaurant, we always have food here!”

“Not the kind I’m looking for!” He rushed out, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

“How much do you want to bet, that he’s actually finding a souvenir for Tsubame-chan?” She shook her head.

“He most likely is.” Himura gave a light laugh, as much as he could with his wounds.

“He’s too much. Anyway, I should write back to Hitomi. Let me do that, before I forget.” She excused herself, leaving the two of them with each other.

Fortunately, Himura spoke first. “Kamiya-dono, this one did not say so before, but thank you for your work in Tokyo.”

“It was all I could do at home, even if it was unnecessary in the end.”

“Did Eiji-kun arrive safely?”

“Yes, he did. It is concerning that the man who sent him has disappeared, though it doesn’t seem like he’s dead.”

“No.” He agreed. “This one believes Saito has his reasons for acting alone. In the Shinsengumi, he was responsible for uncovering spies. During and after the war, he lost even more of his comrades, and they still lost. From his suffering, he has become hardhearted and devoted to his work.”

“Work is productive, but it’s not the cure. The true remedy for loneliness is to have people around you, who truly care for you and to be cared for in turn.” Koshijiro answered. “Kaoru reminded me of that, after my wife passed away.”

“Kaoru-dono has reminded this one as well.” Himura lowered his gaze, smiling to himself.

Before he could segue into asking about Himura’s intentions, the door opened. He expected Kaoru, but instead, he looked up into the cheerful face of Makimachi.

“Hello, Kamiya-san! I couldn’t help overhearing, but I totally agree with you. That’s why I’m still writing notes for Aoshi-sama.”

“Has he recovered a little?”

Her smile froze. “Well...we’re getting there.”

Himura kindly changed the subject. “Kamiya-dono, if you saw Eiji-kun, you must have met Saito’s wife.”

“Oh, yeah! What did she look like?!” Makimachi demanded. “Was she a Boddhisatva?”

Would a Bodhisattva have drawn a pistol on him? “She seemed strong-willed and kind enough to take in a young boy of no relation. What’s the reason for your impression?”

“She married Saito. Of course, she’d have to be a saint to put up with him!”

Himura was serious too. “That’s the only way their marriage would have lasted.”

Confused, Koshijiro said. “I have never seen them together, but she’s certainly patient.”

“What are you even talking about?” Kaoru had returned, and after she was brought to speed, she was just as surprised. “Eh?! He’s married?”

Koshijiro had not written of Tokio or her son, to protect them. “His wife also expressed admiration for you, since she heard you’re the head of the school now.”

“Geez, is that what people are saying?” But she blushed, and Himura noticeably directed his smile towards her.

Sagara and Takani returned in the late afternoon, along with Yahiko, who had a small wrapped package he was desperately trying to hide as he sprinted to the upper floor.

“Quick, let’s guess on what it is.” Sagara grinned. His arm was still in its sling, with ‘evil’ to match the one on his back. “Maybe, it’s a painting? Tsubame-chan likes art.”

“Mizu yokan would still be good, even until we return.” Takani was sure it was the traditional agar sweet.

“If it’s food, it could be konpeito.” Kaoru played along, naming the star-shaped confection. “What do you think, Otou-san?”

“Perhaps, a toy. They haven’t outgrown such things yet.” He wasn’t confident though.

Makimachi had been listening with interest. “Oh? Yahiko-kun’s got a sweetheart in Tokyo?” By the mischievous gleam in her eyes, she was planning to hold the information over his head.

While the rest went to wash up for the evening, Takani spoke in an aside to Koshijiro. “Has there been any news from Aizu?”

“Not yet. I was notified that they received the information, but nothing beyond that. Dr. Gensai also gives his regards, and that everyone is in good hands.” The doctor was working as usual, though he lamented that it was easier with Takani around to help patients.

She was crestfallen at first, but she squared her shoulders. “I won’t be satisfied until they’re back to full strength. When we return, there are some formulations I’d like to discuss with Dr. Gensai.”

The Akabeko’s summer special must have been inspiring, because a similar menu was offered, with the seasoning adjusted to the liking of the Kyoto denizens. In order to make room for the Shirobeko’s customers, their group had dinner in the upstairs hallway. Himura was also able to partake, by leaving his door open. Kaoru was sitting next to him, in case he spilled something. Koshijiro deliberately took her other side, to her obvious displeasure, and he was close enough to hear their conversation. She was telling him about Yahiko’s gift, describing the box’s appearance so he could make his own guess.

“The most likely options seem to have been taken.” Himura gave his harmless smile. “This one can only think of paper, since we have exchanged so many letters.”

“That’s pretty good, actually.” Kaoru was encouraging.

Yahiko was too far to hear them, and he was more focused on eating anyway. Sagara hadn’t achieved his goal; he was forced to use a spoon after dropping his second pair of chopsticks and scowled as he shoveled food into his mouth. Takani was stacking some of the plates, her expression neutral from inward contemplation. The Oniwabanshuu had taken point by the top of the stairs; repairs had begun at the Aoiya and they would be moving to a closer location tomorrow.

Makimachi insisted that she would still be visiting. “And when the Aoiya reopens, you can come stay with us!”

“Sounds good to me.” Yahiko was eager at the prospect of not wearing an apron. “If we can move Kenshin.”

“That may not be for some time.” Takani warned. “And the rooster-head is also trying to push his boundaries too early.”

“Oi! I’m getting better!”

Kaoru interrupted. “Well, at the rate Kenshin’s recovering, we might only be here until the end of the month. When it gets closer to then, why don’t you just stay for a few days, Otou-san? It’s easier than traveling back and forth.”

“I’ll consider it when you’ve settled on a departure date. The most important thing is that everyone recovers.”

“But if you do stay, we’ll take you on a tour of Kyoto!” Makimachi offered. “Right, Jiiya?”

Okina stepped towards them, so he didn’t have to raise his voice. “Yes, definitely. Have you ever visited before all of this happened?”

“Over ten years ago, when the shogun’s forces first reached Toba.” According to the staff, that ward was some distance away from the Shirobeko.

“You were there as well, Kamiya-dono. This one was on the frontlines.” Himura quietly remarked, and familiar pain surged in his expression.

“Is that so? You most likely had the worst of it. I was further back, with others from Chiba.” Among the thousands of men, he had not glimpsed a redhead at all. When he tried to think back, there was a crowd of bloodied faces, screaming-

“It’s better that we’ve met now.” Kaoru’s gentle words stopped the flow of memories, and she raised her bowl. “And we’re still working hard, so we should eat before it gets cold!” She resumed taking bites of her dinner, and Koshijiro followed her cue. As expected of his daughter, she knew how to bring the present back to awareness. It evidently worked on Himura too, because he blinked and renewed his grasp on his spoon. He glanced at Kaoru, the corner of his mouth pulling in a soft smile.

Then, Shinomori’s door opened, and his tall figure stood at the threshold, drawing everyone’s attention. The only noise was the background clamor of the dining area.

“Aoshi-sama!” Makimachi scrambled to her feet, almost knocking over her cup. “U-um, how are you? Are you hungry? Do you need anything? Or were we too loud?”

The questions came in a torrent, but he didn’t seem to mind. In a low voice, he said. “I thought I could join for dinner. If I’m not interrupting.”

“You aren’t! Yahiko-kun, move aside. Can we get another plate?” She searched among the scattered dishes for a clean one.

Shinomori sat on his heels, just outside of his room, and his head was bowed as he accepted his portion. But this was a start. Makimachi was brimming with nervous energy, obviously happy at his appearance and afraid of scaring him away.

“Aoshi, it is good to have you with us.” In Okina’s face, there was only relief. Behind him, the Oniwabanshuu exchanged hopeful looks.

He didn’t respond at first, and for a moment, it seemed as if he was ignoring his mentor. “…I’ve made mistakes. I haven’t found a new path yet.”

“There’s no rush!” Makimachi was quick to reassure him. “Take your time, especially since we won and we’re overseeing the Aoiya’s repairs. So, you can just heal up and meditate and join us for dinner every night!”

He gave the barest of nods, his gaze flitting to her and then Okina. He never fully met either of their gazes.

“Ooh, and because the city was under threat, the Tanabata festival was pushed back a couple weeks. We should all go!” That led to a discussion about the upcoming event, and the Kyoto side enthusiastically described past celebrations before cleaning up.

As they prepared to turn in for the night, Koshijiro retrieved Kaoru’s letter, as well as Sae’s. Yahiko reported that he didn’t have anything at the moment; he was obviously saving his gift to deliver it personally.

“Just tell Tsubame that I’m doing alright and thanks.”

“Very well. Sagara-san, would you like me to take anything to Tokyo?”

“Nah, I’m good. Wait, actually, if you could find one of Katsu’s newspapers, I’d appreciate it.”

Considering it was criticizing the government, a copy would be difficult to find. “I’ll see what I can do, or I can pay him a visit, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Katsu doesn’t really like to be bothered, and he doesn’t know you that well. So, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious.” He gracelessly flopped onto his futon. “With so much going back and forth, can’t you just take that vacation now?”

“I’m fine, and I was occupied, so I never formally requested time off. I also need to have my hair trimmed.”

His daughter couldn’t help overhearing, and she peered out of the girls’ room to enthusiastically offer. “Otou-san, let me do it! It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Thank you, Kaoru.” He followed her instructions, sitting in the hall with a bedsheet tied around his neck. She had procured the scissors from downstairs, and with a cheerful attitude, she prepared to cut.

“How much do you want off?”

“Perhaps, this should be enough.” He placed two fingers’ width against his hairline.

“Alright!” She began to hum a spontaneous melody, and he was reminded of how decades ago, his mother had done the very same thing. Pretend to be a statue, she’d order, before singing to distract him.

“I found a picture of your grandmother. Your grandfather’s work.”

“Really? I can’t wait to see it, Ojii-san used to tell stories about her. Like how they met when he was sleeping by the river, and she poked him with a stick, because he was getting in the way of the local fishers. I thought that was funny.”

“He told you that, when you were little?” He had been unaware of that tale, until he was a teenager.

“Otou-san, keep looking straight ahead. Yeah, I was practicing my sewing and I hated pricking myself with the needle. But Ojii-san was trying to be encouraging, so he mentioned Obaa-san’s talent and I was curious about what she was like.”

Himura was still awake, his door ajar. He had not spoken, but his eyes showed keen interest, and Koshijiro filled him in. “My mother was not my father’s wife, and she primarily worked as a seamstress. Their relationship was affectionate but complicated by their differences in social status.”

“Ah, so that was your reason for fighting against the shogunate?” He remembered their conversation, after the late Minister Okubo had visited the dojo.

“Yes. Even if my parents’ story had reached a final conclusion, I believed change was still necessary for the future.” The cut strands were tickling his face as they fell, and he resolved to remain still, closing his eyes. “As for the picture, I left it on the altar.”

There was some rustling as Himura addressed Kaoru. “It sounds as if you take after your grandmother, Kaoru-dono. Especially in approaching strangers for the first time.”

At this teasing, she exclaimed. “Geez, Kenshin! You had to bring that up again!”

“This one couldn’t help remembering.” He gave a soft laugh.

That must have been an allusion, but Koshijiro couldn’t think of what instance Himura was referring to, and he was further prevented from asking.

“Otou-san, don’t talk or you’ll get a mouthful of your own hair.” So, he feigned being a statue, as the scissors moved around the circumference of his head. Finally, Kaoru seemed satisfied at her handiwork and untied the bedsheet, gathering the clippings. “There we go! How is it?”

“It’s much better.” His head felt a great deal lighter, and he brushed off the dark and silvery bits that had escaped. “You did an excellent job.”

“Really? Then, I can trim Kenshin’s bangs too!” She beamed at him. “If you want, of course.”

His answer was immediate. “This one would like that very much.”

That sounded a little too warm for Koshijiro’s liking, and he interrupted them. “Tomorrow, if that’s going to happen. It’s already late.” Thankfully, neither of them protested, but it still took longer than usual to fall asleep.

At sunrise, the Oniwabanshuu moved out, with noiseless footsteps despite the weight of their belongings. Makimachi’s whispered “See you soon!” was the only audible indication of their departure, and then, there was no trace of them at all.

After breakfast, Takani made a request. “Now that Ken-san’s over the worst, we can start rehabilitating him. I’ll need all of your help.”

Under her instructions, they gathered around Himura and proceeded to lead him through exercises. They appeared simple on the surface, but the motions tested the limits of his range and strength. He pushed his feet against Sagara’s palms, and then tried to break the circle of Yahiko’s forearms with his own.

“Keep going, Kenshin!” Sagara cheered him on.

“Yeah…you’re still the strongest…” Yahiko huffed and puffed, as he valiantly tried to backtrack, serving as a counterpoint. Himura’s brow was furrowed, he could sense that he had atrophied from bedrest.

Koshijiro’s task was easy enough. His open hand served as a reachable target and moved to a new spot in midair, every time Himura’s callused fingers touched. His movement was restricted on the right, Koshijiro noticed, where Shishio had barbarically bit off a portion of flesh. “I know it’s frustrating, but your body’s still healing. You’re doing well.”

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

When it was Kaoru’s turn, she sat at the end of the futon and held out her hands. “Okay, you can sit up now!”

He did, leaning his upper body forward and stretching his fingertips towards her. He wasn’t close enough to touch her and with an exhale, he relaxed back on the pillows before trying again. “Kaoru-dono, you were further than this one thought.”

“But you got closer than I expected. You’re doing really good.” She smiled. In response, he glanced up, locking their gazes.

Abruptly, Yahiko nudged her shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you share that story about your fight? I’m the only one here who was around for it.”

“Oh, right!” She launched into the retelling. “Misao and I faced off against Kamatari, the one with the scythe. It was tricky, but one of her kunai added extra force to my bokuto-”

“Your bokuto? Yahiko said you used your shinai.” Koshijiro wondered aloud about this discrepancy.

“No, I was using the wooden sword then, and the naginata at night. But Yahiko was practically unconscious after his duel, so he might have missed some of the details.”

“I saw the last half!”

“Even if you did, your eyes were barely open.” Behind her, he scowled, as she continued. “Anyway, after breaking the scythe, I was left with only the hilt. So, guess what I did, Otou-san!”

“Tsuka no Gedan: Hiza Hishigi.” He nodded. “And how was it?”

“It worked, I aimed for Kamatari’s knee and I felt it shatter as the hilt split. I wanted to stop Kamatari, but I didn’t expect the technique to be that powerful.” She didn’t sound ashamed, just reflective.

“Usually, in someone with a proper stance, it would be a greater challenge. This was always meant to be a last resort, when your opponent is also weakened and cannot be incapacitated otherwise. Your judgment was sound, and your success is proof of your determination to protect the people here.”

“It’s a ballsy move though.” Sagara grinned. “I like it!”

“Of course, you would. You shatter bones on a regular basis, including your own.” Takani’s words were biting.

The threat of another quarrel was ended by Himura’s question, in between his repetitive motions. “Were you hurt, Kaoru-dono? You must have been close to Kamatari and the scythe.”

“Misao hurt her ribs earlier on, but I wasn’t hit too badly. Nowhere near as severe as your injuries. Ah, Kenshin!” Their fingers had brushed, and she was excited. “See? I wasn’t that far at all.”

“No, you weren’t.” He was slightly out of breath, but his eyes were bright with satisfaction as his hands gradually crept over hers. His strength hadn’t flagged at all, which was encouraging. The next step was to leave his room, and he was looking forward to it. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, Kenshin!” Sagara held out his left hand. “Grab on!”

Koshijiro did the same, but with his right. Kaoru supported Himura from behind, and Yahiko ensured they had a clear path as he counted down.

“One. Two. Three!”

Together, they pulled Himura to his feet and he swayed at first, but he was standing upright. “Thank you.”

Like lightning, a flash of inspiration struck Koshijiro. That kind of move…it would require precision, confidence, and a discerning eye. But with the necessary skill, it would certainly be possible. And it could only be performed with one arm. If he could make this sequence work, it would be a suitable succession technique for the one-handed variant of Kamiya Kasshin. He would have to test it out in the dojo, before talking to Kaoru.

And they had to finish Himura’s exercises. Each step was deliberate, as they guided him into the hallway. He was holding steady, but as expected, he was slower. Given the cramped space, only one person could help Himura at this point.

“It’s gotta be Jou-chan.” Sagara insisted. He was decidedly not making eye contact with Koshijiro. “The old man and I would lose our balance, and Yahiko’s too short.”

“I am not!” He was indignant, as Kaoru gingerly approached Himura’s side.

“Kenshin, is this okay with you?”

“Of course, Kaoru-dono. This one will be in your care.” And then, he looped his arm around her shoulders.

“S-sure. Let me know if you need a break.” Her fingers slid over the front of his shoulder, to support him. There was color in her face, and that ambiguous smile on his.

Koshijiro leaned against the wall, watching them. With Kaoru’s assistance, Himura was able to walk the expanse of the upper floor. Though the turns required some maneuvering, the laps became successively smoother. They looked natural, as if they hadn’t been doing this for more than twenty minutes.

“You’re doing great! Should we try the stairs?” Sagara suggested.

Takani shook her head. “Not yet! It’s too risky. What if he fell?”

“Well, we’d catch him.”

“That wasn’t my point; falling in the first place should be avoided!” By now, Himura was tiring, and she forced an end to the exercise. “We’ll continue tomorrow. Good work, everyone.”

It was raining, not a downpour yet, but Koshijiro insisted he would go alone to the station. If any of them caught a summer cold, he’d blame himself. He kept a brisk pace through the darkening streets, and the air was heavy with moisture. At least, there wasn’t lightning or thunder yet.

A voice floated over. “Bored of staying in the dojo by yourself?”

He spun around, and in one of the alleyways, the glowing ember of a cigarette illuminated the face of the assistant chief inspector. “Fujita-san?”

“There’s no one from the Tokyo police here. ‘Saito’ is fine.” He exhaled a plume of smoke. “You’ve put your interference to good work.”

It was probably the closest to a ‘thank you’ he could muster, but it was good to see that he was alive and well. “Is there anything else I can do, Saito-san?”

“Not now. I’m in the process of bringing someone new on board. When he’s ready, I may send him to you.”

“Will you not be returning?”

The rain intensified with a sudden gust, and his words were nearly drowned out. “Later. I’ve already let Tokio know.”

“You owe her an apology, for worrying her.”

“She wouldn’t have known, if you hadn’t said anything.” He grimaced as he tapped the ashy end off.

Koshijiro couldn’t deny it. “I’m sorry.”

There was a mutter. “An apology would keep the house peaceful.”

“If you’re sincere.”

“She can tell. But enough of that. Catch your train, and I need to continue my investigation.” He stamped out the cigarette, about to leave.  

“You owe the others a sincere apology too.” Koshijiro delivered his parting words.

Saito didn’t reply, but his gloved hand lifted in a leisurely acknowledgement, as he walked away.

***

Tokio was not surprised to see Koshijiro, and she confirmed that her husband had made contact. “He was late, but I’m grateful he’s alright.” She invited him inside, where the boys were having dinner. Upon his entry, Tsutomu openly stared, rice grains stuck to his cheeks. The messy eating reminded him of when Kaoru was that age, and he smiled.

“Good evening. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Eiji shook his head. “It’s fine. Oh, I’ve got something for Kenshin.” He was about to stand, but Tokio reminded him to finish his meal first. He scarfed down what was left and presumably headed for his room. Momentarily, his footsteps grew louder again, and he reappeared with a bamboo basket, of a size to carry fruit. “My brother taught me how to make one. It’s thanks for defeating Shishio.”

“Thank you, I’m sure he’ll appreciate your gift. I’ll take it home, so when he returns, he’ll be able to use it.” As he accepted it, he noticed the weaving was sturdy and even. “How have you been?”

“I’m happy that Shishio’s dead. That’s justice.” He paused. “But he wasn’t the only one. He had the Ten Swords, and everyone on the lower levels of his organization. When Saito-san comes back, I’ll help him slay evil.”

The assistant chief inspector’s creed had rubbed off on Eiji, but it wasn’t a bad motivation to have. “Hopefully, that will be soon.” Given that Tsutomu was fidgeting and burying his face in Tokio’s sleeve, Koshijiro didn’t overextend his stay. Basket in hand, he excused himself.

Tokio saw him to the door, a slight smile on her face. “Thank you for acting on my husband’s behalf. We must have troubled you.”

“Not at all. I’m afraid I was the one who did, in giving you premature news, and I apologize.”

“I would rather have been mistaken, than uninformed.” She smoothly replied, adding. “And I’ll have a word with him anyway.” The glint in her eyes was foreboding. Indeed, Saito was in store for an earful.

The following morning, he realized the kitchen supplies needed to be replenished and after work, he headed further into town. He also needed to deliver the reply to Kaoru’s friend. With all of the recent events, he had neglected checking the mail. There usually wasn’t anything, but this time, a brief letter was addressed specifically to him. It was from Kikuhara, and over a year had passed since Koshijiro last heard from him. His curiosity regarding how much his old friend knew was quickly answered.

Kamiya-sensei,

Earlier this year, I was informed by Maekawa-sensei that you had fallen in Satsuma, and fortunately before I could depart from Echigo, he clarified that this was not true. I cannot imagine what you must be feeling. How have you been coping?

Midori and I pray for the good health of you and your daughter. If there is anything I can do to assist, please do not hesitate to let me know.

Your friend,

Kikuhara

He would have to write back today, to reassure Kikuhara. Over time, their correspondence had dwindled to the annual New Year’s card, but he wondered how he was faring. Although the circumstances could have been better, this was an opportunity to catch up. He continued on his way, buying what was needed. Kombu, salt, soy sauce, rice vinegar. The various passersby and shop owners had noticed that he was alone, calling out.

“Hey, Kamiya-san! When’s Kaoru-chan coming back?”

“And what about Himura-san? We heard he left town, but isn’t she chasing after him?”

He hadn’t known they were such a topic of gossip. “Himura-san was found, but due to circumstances, he’s currently recovering. Kaoru and the rest of her friends are with him, and they’ll return soon.” He believed that would be enough to satisfy their curiosity, but he was proven wrong when stopping by the Maekawa dojo.

Immediately, he was bombarded with inquiries. On the surface, the students seemed congenial, but he caught jealousy in more than a few gazes when he provided the short version of the story. Maekawa arrived about halfway through, but he must have heard plenty, because he offhandedly remarked. “So, are there talks of an engagement?”

He gave a deadpan stare. “Maekawa-sensei, please.”

His friend burst into laughter. “You should see your face, Kamiya-sensei! Quick, someone get a photographer!”

Joking aside, the students began practice with their recently promoted assistant instructors. They were capable young men, around Takani’s age. One was already married, the other finalizing an agreement with the family of his intended. To Koshijiro’s knowledge, both were taught by the Maekawas’ adopted son, who had moved to the branch school in Hino with his wife. Judging from the students’ vigor, it seemed the main dojo had recovered from the incident in spring, though there weren’t any new faces.

“Now then, you didn’t say ‘there isn’t anything of the sort’ like last time. Things must have changed, haven’t they?” Maekawa stroked his beard.

Koshijiro didn’t answer right away, attempting to evade. “I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

“Don’t deny it! You’ve warmed up to Himura-san. A few months ago, you would have been grimacing like a demon. And he’s a good man. My students and I are indebted to him and Kaoru-sensei for stopping Isurugi Raijuuta. He’d fit right into Kamiya Kasshin.”

“I’ve considered that, but he hasn’t explicitly said he wants to join.” He paused. “Or whether he’s interested in settling down in Tokyo. He wandered into town at the beginning of the year, he is still a boarder.” Now that he’d spoken it aloud, he realized how little Himura had spoken of his personal background. Yes, he was a veteran and a swordsman, but who were his parents? What did they do? Did he have siblings? Did he have another family, any children? To be fair, Himura had never been asked, though he was adept at household chores. Koshijiro shook his head, setting his curiosity aside for the time being. “Anyway, Kaoru is the head instructor and she’s in charge.”

Maekawa chuckled. “Well, there’s nothing to worry about. You’ve entrusted her with such responsibility, and she’s earned it. You should be proud. For the past eight years, you’ve raised her on your own. Kyoko-san would surely be happy at how she turned out, as well as Motomiya-sensei and his wife.”

The intent was kind, but he wasn’t so sure about his in-laws. Motomiya-sensei had never taken a female student, and he hadn’t fully understood Shio-san, yet he wouldn’t have blamed her if she resented kenjutsu. Kyoko, however…it was simple to conjure her content smile, her voice telling him ‘you did well, dear, I’m glad’. He softly said. “I’ve done the best I could, and Kyoko’s words have helped throughout the years. Kaoru’s grown on her own too, since she’s been away from home.”

“You’re still reluctant to give her away as a bride though.”

“It was good talking with you, but I have some tasks to finish today.” Koshijiro made a hasty exit, to the sound of Maekawa’s hearty laughter. But he felt somewhat better and his reply to Kikuhara was finished easily.

With an early dinner, he reserved the evening for kenjutsu. Once he had finished the usual stretches, he practiced the new succession technique. Slowly at first, with deliberation. Feeling out the motions, ensuring control and fluidity. In order to pull this off, he needed to be absolutely grounded, so he wouldn’t buckle. Every repetition was an adjustment from the last, and little by little, he became confident enough for a simulation. He didn’t have a sparring partner, but that was also the case when he developed Hadome. He used the same tactic as he had then: envisioning an opponent. Imagination was only one element. It was necessary to have years of experience, learning from each unique fight and predicting maneuvers, down to the precise angle and amount of force.

The lantern in one corner was enough to illuminate the dojo, as he focused solely on breathing. In this quiet space, his senses were honed to their peak. When he lifted his gaze, he found the phantom. An outline, flickering across the dojo, but unlike his shadow, it was gone in the next heartbeat. The air felt weighted, as if another person really was here.

Without hesitation, he began the kata. Forward strike, three steps, neutral stance adjusted for his vulnerable left side. Switch his grip for a reverse block, switch back to standard grip. The first thrust, swift and powerful, aimed for the base of the throat. He could almost sense the resistance of the phantom, in the wavering candlelight. Progressing through the sequence, he was building up to the move he had thought of in Kyoto. Then, he retreated. Waited. In his mind’s eye, the phantom returned, raising its weapon towards him. As countless others had, and the memories consolidated into the outline, bringing it to life-

He met it head on and braced. No real impact, but his ears rang in anticipation for the crack of colliding bamboo. He stood still, analyzing. It hadn’t been a poor attempt, yet he could improve the position, so his arm was more stable. He started over and continued like this, for nearly another hour, until the lantern sputtered. Taking that as his cue, he lowered his shinai to his side and bowed. What he wanted to accomplish was definitely possible, and he’d keep it a secret until he was ready to demonstrate.

***

The week was over in an instant, but significant progress had been made in Kyoto. Himura was able to walk around the grassy patch behind the restaurant, with a cane and Kaoru alongside him. Notably, his bangs were trimmed, no longer covering his eyes.

“Ah, Otou-san!” She happily waved. “Look, Kenshin’s already on his feet!”

“Yes, I can see that you look much better.” He said to Himura. “The exercises have been helping.”

“They have, and Kaoru-dono has supported this one the whole time.” They weren’t touching now, but the distance between them was less than an arm’s length.

“Have you fallen?”

“No, this one hasn’t.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Kaoru, you can keep pace further away.”

“Otou-san!” She scowled, color rising in her cheeks. “Nothing happened, okay?!”

As they completed another lap, the others came out to join them, including a familiar pair who had just arrived as well. “Hello, hello! We’re back!” Makimachi exuberantly greeted them, with Shinomori acting as her shadow.

“The Aoiya’s already done with repairs?” Yahiko tilted his head. “After a week?”

“Nope, but I didn’t want to stick around. Too much hammering, you know? Aoshi-sama thought so too.” The sole indication that this was true was a slow blink from her companion. “He’s used to meditating upstairs, and he’ll have Himura-san for company. Also, I thought we’d go shopping! Just us girls, for yukata. You didn’t bring your own, right?”

“I didn’t think I needed mine.” Kaoru glanced at the doctor. “Megumi?”

“Well, I never had many belongings since coming to Tokyo.” She slowly replied, her gaze lowered in self-consciousness.

Makimachi’s jaw dropped. “Eh?! Then, that’s all the more reason! Kyoto has wonderful textiles, I’ll show you!”

“That’d be great, Misao. Megumi, we’ll definitely find something for you.” Kaoru firmly said.

“If you insist.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, but she looked pleased.

Sae approached them, holding a piece of paper. “Are you heading out? I’ll come with you, I need to visit a couple of our suppliers before the rush.” There was some bustling, as they prepared to leave, but just as they were grouped together, a party of twelve arrived for lunch.

“Tch, we aren’t serving yet.” Yahiko crossed his arms behind his head, pivoting for the kitchen. “I’ll buy time and get their drinks!”

“Sae-san, don’t worry. The old man and I will go and get your stuff.” Sagara volunteered. “Between us, we have two good arms.” He did have a point and Sae was very grateful, jotting down the directions and adding the Shirobeko’s stamp as a sign of permission.

Accepting the list, Koshijiro followed Sagara on their impromptu trip. It was warm and humid, but not uncomfortable. “Red perilla and ginger at the first stop, amanatsu at the second.”

“Amanatsu, huh? What are those?”

“They’re a citrus fruit, like mikan and yuzu. Have you never had one?”

“Maybe I have, I’ll have to see what they look like. I’ve eaten a bunch of things over the years, though I gotta say, I’m definitely not looking forward to Jou-chan’s cooking when we get back!” He laughed.

“She wouldn’t be pleased if she heard that.” In response, he received a heavy clap on the back. Friendly, by Sagara’s standards.

“I’m just kidding. It’s easy to poke fun at her, she reminds me of my own little sister. They’re about the same age too.”

That was news to Koshijiro. “I was unaware you had one.”

“Yeah, she’s probably still living with my parents. And maybe, I have another sibling or two. I don’t know.” He was contemplative for a moment, before shrugging. “Anyway, I haven’t heard from them since I left.”

“You’ve never visited them, in the ten years since?”

“Nope. My old man and I had a big fight.” Even as a child, Sagara must have been rebellious. “He told me that if I went to the Sekihoutai, I should forget I had a family. So, that was the end of it.”

It was hard to discern whether this was truly abuse or a terrible argument. “How did your mother react?”

“My sister was crying, so she was trying to calm her down. She must have thought it would blow over; too bad she was wrong.”

“Ten years is a long time, and you had only lived half your life then.” Koshijiro said. “However, I cannot speak for your family, and you are the one who knows them and yourself best. Whether you decide to see them again or not, that’s up to you.”

“Yeah.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, are we almost there?”

“Soon. It should be around this corner.” The store was small, but customers were already lining up. The heat was beginning to intensify, causing dampness to gather under their sleeves. The owner was kind enough to accommodate Koshijiro, procuring a cloth bag for the knobby roots and bundle of dark red leaves.

Two blocks down, the sweet tangy aroma of ripe citrus permeated the air. The overflowing stalls had summoned a crowd, and the wait was significantly longer. The Shirobeko’s amanatsu were filled to the top of a sack, which Sagara lifted without fuss. “I’ve had a couple of these, like three or four years ago? They’re good.”

“Were you in Tokyo at the time?”

“I was mostly on the outskirts.” He clarified, as they wove through the people, stepping onto the main street once more. “Not really in the city, I was trying not to get arrested. I’ve been in jail before; there are a couple of small towns I can’t go back to.”

“For being in fights?”

“Yeah, but these latest ones were the best of my life!” His keen gaze fixed upon the sky, his mouth quirking.

“You’re already looking forward to the next.”

“Can’t wait until my hand heals up. I’ve met plenty of strong people, thanks to Kenshin. The Oniwabanshuu, Anji, Saito…” He trailed off, his brows drawing together in renewed concern.

Koshijiro glanced around and lowered his voice. “You no longer have to search for Saito-san. He’s alive, continuing his work.”

“Really?! I knew it, we never did find his body.” His mood had completely flipped, his grin was triumphant. “Do I have to keep it a secret from the others?”

“We can tell them, but only so they don’t have to worry.”

“Gotcha…he didn’t tell us, that bastard. He could have at least shown his face to the rest of us!” Relief had given way to an angry rant. “Work, my ass. That’s not an excuse, I bet he’s lying.”

“He didn’t provide all the details and he’s never been forthright.” Koshijiro conceded. “However, I do think he’s slightly changed from when he was first assigned to our department. Not exactly trusting…more considerate of his allies, I suppose. Otherwise, he would have continued on his own path and we wouldn’t have heard from him for months.”

“Kenshin would say something like that too.” He grumbled, before his tone became serious again. “Hey, why do you hate Kenshin so much?”

Taken aback, he said. “I don’t hate him.”

“Then, why do you insist on keeping him and Jou-chan apart? How did the rule start?”

“I came home to find my daughter living with a redheaded stranger, and they were overly familiar with each other. Himura-san also said something that was misinterpreted, which was my fault. In those early days, I was still wary, so I made the rule.”

“So it all began with one bad first impression?” Sagara adjusted the sack on his shoulder. “Well, I met Kenshin because I wanted to fight him. I was kinda pushy too, I blocked you from going to the rest of the police. Guess I didn’t come off that great either. Huh…”

Actually, had anyone in their group ever made a favorable first impression on Koshijiro? Yahiko and Takani had disrespected Kaoru. Shinomori had trespassed, and Makimachi had stolen from him. This wasn’t even getting into the assistant chief inspector or Himura’s master.

“But we’re all friends now. Does that mean you’ll get rid of the rule?”

“Now that I know how Kaoru feels, no. There needs to be someone who can ensure they are acting with propriety, and it certainly wasn’t occurring while I was gone.”

Sagara rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue. “You’re just being stubborn. Even if Jou-chan gets pregnant, Kenshin isn’t the kind of guy who would abandon her.”

Koshijiro abruptly froze, staring into the middle distance.

“…oi. Old man? Uh…Kamiya-san! Snap out of it…shit!”

***

“Sorry, Jou-chan. I think I broke your dad.”

“What?! What happened? Otou-san!”

“Kamiya-dono, are you alright?”

“Hey, Sano, where’d you get a sculpture of Kamiya-san?”

“What fresh idiocy did you do this time, rooster head?”

“Oh man, this is too funny!”

“…”

“All of you, stand back. It seems you need my help.”

A cork popped. Incredibly strong sake poured down Koshijiro’s throat and he spluttered. He could register his surroundings; the yard behind the Shirobeko was certainly cramped with their group, including the owner of the sake jug. As his burning throat recovered, he heard that sardonic voice again.

“See? Cured.”

Disgruntled at Hiko’s reappearance, he asked. “You’re still here?”

“I’m dropping off a commission, because it’s too delicate to entrust to anyone else down the mountain. While I was here, I decided to be generous enough to check on my idiot apprentice.”

From Himura’s annoyed expression, he didn’t think it was generous at all. “Shishou, your ‘check’ has already been an hour.”

“If you’re able to say that, you can end your break and continue your little exercises.” Hiko waved him off.

The alcohol was starting to affect him, and he had to sit down. The grass was dry, the earth solid underneath his legs. Takani took his pulse, frowning. “You’re not overly warm. I don’t think it was the heat and I doubt you had a stroke.”

“I assure you, the cause wasn’t medical.”

“Then, what happened?”                                  

He wasn’t willing to disclose Sagara’s poor joke or even think about it again, so he deflected. “Nothing of importance.”

“Sorry, old man. Guess I know now, it won’t happen again.” Sagara was sheepish, before chuckling. “But it was really funny. Don’t look at me like that, fox lady. If he doesn’t want to say, then I won’t either.”

She pursed her lips. “Alright, cling onto your secrets! For your stubbornness, Kamiya-san, you’ll be under observation for the rest of the day. Let’s go inside, where we can watch you.”

Despite his protests, he was herded upstairs and forcibly tucked into his futon. Sagara and Shinomori had gone to hand over the groceries, while Yahiko was sent for more pillows. Kaoru knelt beside him, touching his elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay, Otou-san? I can get you some barley tea.”

“I’m fine, but I’ll accept the drink.” It would alleviate his daughter’s worry too. “Did you find a yukata?”

“Yeah, I did.” She smiled. “Megumi and Misao found theirs too.”

“We made our choices pretty quickly.” Makimachi explained. “Just in case, I kind of want to look around for more…we still have time before the festival.”

“Well, I’m happy with mine.” Kaoru rose to her feet. “I’ll be back!” However, she wasn’t the only one to leave. Himura was right behind her, even though he obviously couldn’t assist. Rather, he looked content enough to be tagging along. No, he definitely wasn’t the type to leave if…anyway!

“Does he always do that?” Koshijiro decided he could blame the slight tipsiness for asking that out loud.

“What do you mean?” Makimachi grinned. “He’s healthy enough to walk around. There’s no issue if he follows her like a lost puppy, right?” Someone definitely told her about the arm’s length rule, and she had clearly chosen sides.

Takani was still concerned, but she relaxed somewhat, when it was apparent he wasn’t in any serious condition. “You’ve cooled down, and whatever happened, the heat obviously didn’t help. Tell anyone right away if you start feeling lightheaded, your vision blurs, or you lose feeling in a part of your body.”

“I will.”

Meanwhile, Hiko had been standing just outside the room, and he peered within. “If the evaluation is finished, I wanted to have a conversation with the tanuki father. Alone.” There was a gravity to his tone that couldn’t be argued with. But…tanuki father? That was the second time Hiko referred to him as such, and Koshijiro believed it was going to stick.

As the girls shuffled out, Takani warned. “Please don’t give him any more sake.”

“Not unless he asks.” He closed the door, granting them a degree of privacy. Then, he settled on his heels, folding his arms and facing Koshijiro. “Perhaps, it did help. You’re slightly less awkward than last time.”

“I attribute that to practicing in the dojo, over the past few days. I have a better grasp of the one-handed version of Kamiya Kasshin.” It still required perfecting, but he was motivated.

“Hm. That’s what I wanted to discuss. You’re the one who thought of ‘the sword that protects life’. It seems to have resonated with my idiot apprentice and the vow he’s taken.”

“I could tell, he truly understands the intention of Kamiya Kasshin. However, I met him a week into his stay. Kaoru was the one who introduced the school’s ideals to him.” Koshijiro thought for a moment. “Are you upset that he’s not following your path?”

He scoffed. “If I was, I would have prevented him from leaving in the first place. The answer is no. I’m only curious. Your daughter’s perspective is naïve, but she’s never killed anyone. You and my idiot apprentice, however? Such a philosophy is already radical, let alone be embraced by war veterans like the two of you.”

“Do you think it’s foolish? You’re not the first person to think so.” Koshijiro replied. “Throughout the years, I’ve received plenty of criticism. ‘If you cannot kill your opponent, you’ll surely be cut down.’ ‘You’ll run out of stamina as long as you avoid an outcome.’ ‘It’s fine in the dojo, but not on the battlefield.’ ‘A blade is kept sharp for a reason.’”

“Which are all valid points.” Hiko dryly said.

“Yes, but there are ways to protect life. Using nonlethal weapons, taking safety precautions in the dojo. Sometimes, to end a fight quickly by disarming or aiming for nonvital points. And of course, paying attention to your opponent’s weaknesses. I heard your fight by the Aoiya went similarly.”

“I only pitted a couple of them against each other, it wasn’t difficult.”

“And yet, neither of them died, when you could have decided otherwise. That too, is protecting life. I admit, I’ve experienced temptation, but I’ve killed before and so has Himura-san. Kaoru hasn’t, and thanks to her and a certain incident, she provided a rebuttal to that temptation. As long as there’s another option, if you can think of a possibility to end a fight without killing or surrendering, you will not have acted wrongly. That is the intent of Kamiya Kasshin, which your apprentice believes in. Kaoru and I are grateful that he does, wholeheartedly.”

For a while, there was no response. Hiko’s gaze was targeted beyond the walls, his features stoic. “…I’m glad he didn’t meet you earlier. He would have been completely unable to learn Amakakeru Ryuu no Hirameki if he had.”

Koshijiro was irked that this was his only comment, but he didn’t retort. He sensed that there was something Hiko wasn’t sharing, and perhaps, he was trying to figure it out. He didn’t have to be rude about it though.

The door opened, his daughter drawing close with a nearly full cup. “Otou-san, here’s your tea!”

“Thank you, Kaoru.” The liquid was refreshing, and he downed half of it in one go.

“Um, we’ll be waiting downstairs, when you’ve finished talking.”

“No need.” Hiko stood, brushing himself off. “My question’s been answered, and I’ll be heading out.”

Himura stepped inside now, acknowledging his master with a nod. “Then, take care, Shishou.”

“Ah! Before I forget,” Kaoru clasped her hands together, widely smiling. “Hiko-san, you’re always welcome at the Kamiya dojo!”

“What?!” For once, Koshijiro and Himura had the same reaction.

“Kenshin, Otou-san, don’t be like that.” She chided them. “Hiko-san is Kenshin’s teacher and took care of him for years, so it’s only proper.”

“That’s right.” Hiko was utterly smug. “An idiot like you ought to listen to her. She understands respect between master and disciple.”

Well, she is right, but…why did Himura’s teacher have to be this person?! Koshijiro grimaced.

“Ah, Kaoru-dono,” Himura tried to recover his composure. “Tokyo is most likely too busy for Shishou. He prefers his life on the mountain.”

Fortunately, the other man conceded. “It’s a tempting offer, but I value my privacy too much to take advantage of it. I have my kiln here, and a clientele with a taste for the works of Ni’itsu Kakunoshin. Although, I won’t rule out visiting.”

“And is that going to be any time soon?” Himura raised his eyebrows.

He gave a sinister smirk. “Who knows? You should prepare yourself, baka deshi.” With a whirl of his coat, he departed.

Himura sighed in exasperation, muttering. “Shishou…one day, he might actually appear at the gate.”

The others soon reunited with them, though it wasn’t until dinnertime that Koshijiro was released from observation. At least, he could further prove he was alright, by eating without fumbling.

“So…” Yahiko broached the subject, now that Shinomori and Makimachi had returned to their lodgings. “Do we have a set date for going back yet?”

“Aw, you miss Tsubame-chan, don’t you?” Sagara couldn’t resist ribbing him.

“I-I just don’t want to keep sharing a room with you! Your socks stink!”

“Hey, it’s hard to wash them with one hand.”

Takani spoke over their banter. “I think next weekend might be a little early, but if Ken-san maintains his recovery rate, we may only be here for a few days after the festival.”

Kaoru turned to him. “So, Otou-san, do you think you can join us until we leave?”

“I’ll talk to the chief, but I hope that we can return to Tokyo together.”

After the stress of the past months, seeing everyone’s smiles was comforting. It could only have been better if they were in the dojo.

#rurouni kenshin #kamiya koshijiro #a couple cameos in this one #and kamiya dad bluescreens at something that probably shouldn't have been said to him

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 15

Happy Lunar New Year, everyone! Let’s kick off the year of the ox with an appropriately obstinate Kamiya dad.

At last, Koshijiro arrives in Kyoto, where reunions and revelations await! The whole gang’s here! Now that I’ve reworked the plot, we’re actually at the halfway point of the story. I’ll be taking a final exam today too, so I’d appreciate knowing what you think! FF.net / AO3

Chapter 15: Reunion

The train’s steady rocking caused him to nod off once or twice, but the sun, cresting over the horizon, kept him awake for good. The sky changed colors, from light purple to intense orange to gentle blue. As he watched, he massaged the back of his neck. It had taken a while to settle in his futon last night, and his muscles were somewhat sore.

Takani had been lightly dozing, and she stirred when the light poured in through the window. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. “Did you not sleep, Kamiya-san?”

“On and off. We still have some time before we arrive.”

“Oh, I can’t anymore. I should be ready to work once we disembark.”

“I did hear Sagara-san might have done something that will upset you.”

She clicked her tongue. “Typical!” After a moment, she asked. “Did you hear anything else?”

Mixed feelings. “Nothing medical.”

Her lips pursed in suspicion. “Anything that would upset you?”

“I have no reason to be upset.”

“Hmm. Your arm’s length rule is funny.�� She remarked. “But otherwise, I’ve noticed Kaoru has a lot of freedom in her life.”

“I’m her father but she is her own person. Above all, I trust her and she knows if I don’t like something, I will be honest.”

She gave a bittersweet smile. “You and my father would have gotten along. He was very progressive, like the rest of our clan. Men and women alike were encouraged to study medicine. My father was direct too, he always believed patients deserved the truth. I forgot that, over the years.”

“I think your father would be happy that you’re in a better place now, doing good work.”

She did not reply to that, turning her face slightly away. “I’ve been thinking of going back to Aizu.” She slowly said. “Not right now, it hasn’t been finalized, but I am looking for a job there.”

“Do you miss your home?”

“A little, yes.” She hesitated. “I want to search for my mother and brothers. I know it’s probably unlikely they survived, it’s been a decade. However, Dr. Gensai told me about what happened to you and how you turned out to be alive. So…”

“I understand. Would you like me to help? I can send a message to the department there and see if they have any information.”

“Would you?!” Her eyes widened before she forced herself to be composed. She interlaced her trembling fingers. “I…I would be very grateful.”

“It’s no problem. I should have done so earlier. Although I must warn you, it might not be good news.”

Her expression was wry. “I’m a doctor. I’m used to bad news and I’d rather know for certain.”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s true. Can you give me any information?”

She opened one of her books, flipping to a blank section and writing in earnest. “My mother. My oldest brother, and my second older brother. I can give you their dates of birth, and here is our former address. They disappeared, during a fire at Wakamatsu Castle. Do you need anything else?”

“It should be enough to start with. Don’t tear out the pages now, I’ll investigate when we return to Tokyo. Just in case I forget, please remind me.”

“I will. Thank you, Kamiya-san.” Her hair fell forward as she bowed at the waist. When she was upright again, she discreetly wiped at her eyes and Koshijiro pretended not to notice. Outside, the landscape blurred past in shades of green.

When their last train slowed to a hissing halt, it was already mid-morning. Asking for directions, they made their way to the Aoiya. The streets slowly revealed destruction, fallen debris littered about and scorch marks upon walls. Then, there were wooden support beams propping up buildings, and round pits in the streets. Koshijiro stopped. What was supposed to be their destination was half destroyed.

“Hey! You got here fast!” Yahiko approached them, rigidly waving. Bandages wound around his head and disappeared down his neck. He was keeping his torso straight; he must have suffered an injury.

“It’s good to see you.” Koshijiro reached out to steady his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He grinned. “The Aoiya is worse off.”

“That’s certainly true. Where is everyone else?”

“At the Shirobeko. Uh…” His expression became serious. “Sano’s okay but Kenshin was hurt really bad. Some doctors were brought in last night, but they haven’t left yet.”

That caught Takani’s attention and they followed him to the restaurant. “I thought Kaoru said you were all safe! And you should be resting!” She said indignantly.

“Well, we are safe, we’re not getting attacked. And um, I wrote the telegram. Kaoru hasn’t left Kenshin’s bedside, so she told me to send a message. We figured you both would be here soon, no matter what I’d say, so I just tried to keep it short. Those things are expensive! By the way, how did you make it in one day? Last time, it took three to get to Kyoto.”

Koshijiro provided the explanation. “There was a fight between two gangs, and I was compensated for additional interrogations and paperwork in the aftermath. I was able to pay for the extra expense to take the new railroad route from Yokohama to Kobe. It was luck that we met at the Aoiya.”

“Yeah, I was tired of lying around. I volunteered to get some info, so they can start rebuilding.”

Takani wasn’t pleased. “I’ll examine you later, and I’ll have a word with whoever let you go.”

Fortunately, the Shirobeko was no worse for the wear and after greeting Sae, they walked to the second floor. One room was bustling with activity; Takani rolled up her sleeves and joined the fray, introducing herself as Himura’s doctor from Tokyo. The door closed behind her, and although Koshijiro strained to look, he was unable to see past the huddled group to find any trace of his daughter or Himura. He considered going in but couldn’t think of how he could help. It was best to leave the professionals to their work and Yahiko led him back down the stairs, to find a quiet spot in the yard.

“Do you wanna know what happened?” The boy was eager to divulge the battle in Kyoto. It was a long one, full of action and daring feats. “I took down this guy with wings!”

Some parts were difficult to swallow at first, but he trusted Yahiko. He tended to exaggerate, but he was honest. After his initial fight with Shishio’s second, Kenshin had received a new sakabato from the son of the original swordsmith. This was technically crafted with the first, and it had been the version given to the gods. Now, it would do well in Himura’s hands. Shishio’s naval attack had been thwarted by Himura, Saito, and Sagara; the city was defended by the others, along with the numerous policemen. Yahiko had picked up one of Himura’s moves and used it to claim victory over his opponent.

“You figured it out from watching him?”

“Yeah, but I had to practice in secret, since it’s not Kamiya Kasshin. Kaoru knows now, though.”

“I’m impressed. You’ve become an excellent student, just within this year.”

“Thanks. I want to get stronger, to fight with everyone.” He gave a toothy smile. He had matured a little since Koshijiro had last seen him. “Kaoru also took down one of Shishio’s gang. Her shinai broke, but she kept fighting and won!”

“Did she? I’d like to tell her she did a good job.” He glanced up at the building. He hoped she was alright, as was Himura.

“She wasn’t hurt too bad, and Kenshin will make it. They’ll be okay, Kamiya-san.” Yahiko was very certain of this, or perhaps, he was trying to convince himself too. “And then, Kenshin and Sano-”

“Someone say my name?” At the familiar voice, they turned. Sagara was in even worse shape than Yahiko, with twice as many bandages and his face badly bruised. His right hand was rendered immobile in a sling, and his left fingers were wrapped up as they lifted in greeting. If this was ‘okay’ in Yahiko’s mind, what condition was Himura in? “Hey, old man.”

“Sagara-san, how are you?”

“Still kicking.” He grinned. “Fox is here too?”

“She’s upstairs with the other doctors.”

“Right.” His good humor evaporated, and he trudged over, exhaling loudly as he sat on the back steps. “Kenshin’ll be fine, he definitely will. Now that the fox is helping out, he’s in better hands. Anyway, what were you talking about?”

“I was telling him about our fights!” Yahiko supplied. “But I didn’t mention your new punching technique yet.”

“Leave that to me.” He spun a tale of wandering in the forest, which led to a fateful instructive meeting with a monk. The new technique was essentially a double punch, resulting in increased destructive force. Unbeknownst to Sagara at the time, his teacher was one of Shishio’s comrades. It made for a bittersweet duel in the final battle, and the monk, Anji, had willingly turned himself in.

One by one, the rest of the Ten Swords fell, either in Kyoto or defending their leader, and Shinomori had settled his grudge with Himura in their own match. The story reached its climax with a four-way fight against Shishio. It had been vicious, with Himura using the succession technique of Hiten Mitsurugi, and ended with the other man succumbing to his burns in the prolonged battle. Even after sacrificing his lover, Shishio had died laughing in an inferno.

By the time the story reached its end, it was lunchtime. Sae urged them inside, and as they sat down, Koshijiro realized that there was someone he hadn’t seen yet. He glanced around, craning his head. No sign of him at all, not even a hint of cigarette smoke.

“Where is the assistant chief inspector?”

Neither of them responded at first, exchanging glances. Yahiko stalled. “Uh…”

“We don’t know.” Sagara said. “Last time I saw him, it was after Shishio went up in flames. Saito just walked back in, but I don’t think he died!”

Koshijiro didn’t believe so either, but he wondered what he was going to tell Tokio. “It’s possible he had some work to finish, for whatever the Minister wanted him to accomplish. If he hasn’t returned by tomorrow, we can try to look for him.”

“Yeah, I’ll lead the way. Sounds like a plan, old man.”

The atmosphere remained tense, and Koshijiro was unable to savor much of his meal, though he encouraged the boys to eat and recover their strength. After the dishes were cleared away, he intended for a short stroll outside.

The strong aroma of sake was the first thing he noticed. Leaning against the restaurant’s wall, a tall man was drinking out of a jug. His coat was draped over his shoulders, his long hair in disarray. He wiped his mouth, and his dark gaze landed on Koshijiro.

“So, my idiot apprentice has more people from Tokyo to visit?”

Koshijiro politely ignored the modifier. “Your apprentice?”

“Yes, the idiot who hasn’t woken up yet.” He briefly jerked his head towards the building.

“I’m afraid Himura-san is still unconscious.”

“Hm.” He took another pull, the liquid sloshing. “How do you know him?”

“Himura-san has been living with us. I’m Kamiya Koshijiro.”

“Ah. You’re the tanuki girl’s father.”

“...tanuki girl?”

“The kenjutsu master, who my idiot apprentice is besotted with.” He lifted his hand to his chin, with a smug smile. “Her face reminds me of a tanuki.”

Koshijiro was at a loss to interpret any of that.

“Anyway,” The stranger continued. “I am Hiko Seijuro, the Thirteenth Master of Hiten Mitsurugi. And as it seems, most likely the last.”

“He isn’t dead.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kaoru’s letters had not described him in great detail, but Himura’s teacher really was an strange person. Assuming he’d only obtain more questions than answers, Koshijiro opted for another subject. “I heard that you helped protect the city. Thank you for your effort.”

“I only came since it was a request.” His eyes darted to the upper floor again. “I had to get supplies anyway, they still haven’t been delivered yet. Speaking of which…” Abruptly, he straightened and corked his jug.

“Do you need any help?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own. How’d you lose the arm?”

What a blunt question! Even Hayashi’s son was more tactful, and at least, he had the excuse of childhood innocence. “…Satsuma.” He left it ambiguous to whether it was last year or during the Bakumatsu.

“Hm. This is why I stay out of politics.” Before Koshijiro could respond, he was already stepping out of the alley. Hand lifting in farewell, Hiko walked into the main street without even swaying. The entire encounter had left Koshijiro feeling off-balance, not helped by the overt smell of liquor, and he made his way in the opposite direction.

The other swordsman was still gone when he returned, though something was clearly different within the Shirobeko. Sagara had dozed off and Yahiko had acquired an inkbrush, which was paused in midair between them.

“This…this isn’t what it looks like!” He protested.

Koshijiro suppressed a sigh. “Is it a message you can’t put down on paper?”

“Well, he has ‘evil’ on his back, so I thought he’d like it on his sling too.”

“Let’s ask him when he wakes up. For now, you can practice.”

They must have been too loud, because Sagara snorted and lifted his head. “What’s going on?” Upon Yahiko’s admission, he readily agreed to the addition. “Hell yeah, you can. Thanks!”

“Sure, I’ll start right now!” He aimed for the white cloth.

“Wait a second. Do you know how to write the character?”

“I’ve seen it so many times.”

“Seeing is not the same as practicing.” Koshijiro added. “It’s the same with kenjutsu.”

“You’re right, old man.” Sagara took his side. “Come on, Yahiko, get some paper.”

Grudgingly, the younger boy began to draft his rendition of ‘evil’. Sae approached with a fresh pot of tea and rice crackers, inquiring about her sister and the Tokyo branch. The conversation was a good distraction for a number of minutes.

At last, footsteps echoed from upstairs; the doctors were leaving. Their expressions were not grim, but not totally satisfied either. After they filed out, he heard her voice first.

“Thank you again, Megumi.”

“We’re far from finished. It’ll be a long road of recovery ahead, and he has a very high risk of infection. If it weren’t for the full hospital beds, I would have transferred him to the closest one. The next few days will be critical.” Takani warned, as she descended to the lower floor.

And then, there was Kaoru, following behind her. “I know. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“You’ve done well until now, and unless I call you again, your presence is enough.” The doctor briskly nodded, and then in the direction of Koshijiro. “I’m sure your father will agree.”

Immediately, her face lit up. “Otou-san!” She rushed over to embrace him, and he held her tight. It felt like it had been years since he had last seen her. “I’m happy you’re here!”

“So am I. You look tired, Kaoru.”

“I’m fine.” She argued. There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her hair was mussed. He laid the back of his hand against her forehead. She wasn’t feverish but she obviously needed rest. Grumbling, she did her best to glare at him. “Geez, I said I was fine.”

“I heard you, I only wanted to be certain. It’s been six weeks.”

She smiled. “Otou-san, you were lonely, weren’t you?”

He deliberately cleared his throat. “We’ve just finished lunch, but I can order anything you’d like.” She had supposedly eaten a late breakfast and claimed not to be hungry, but she sat down with relief. When Koshijiro pushed the rice crackers toward her, she did grab a handful.

“Ken-san has been stabilized, and two of the Oniwabanshuu are watching him in the meantime. I don’t know when he’ll wake up.” Takani informed them as she took a seat. “I will not lie, his condition is serious and we’re treating it as such. We’ll keep a close eye.”

“Thanks for letting us know. Drink up, you deserve it.” Sagara nodded at the teapot.

“Oh? I won’t refuse-what?” Her gaze had followed his sling and she gave a cry of horror upon noticing his right hand. “What did you do?!”

“Sorry.” He said without a trace of regret. “I learned something new.”

“Being foolish isn’t exactly new for you, rooster head.”

“Hey!”

As they sniped back and forth, Kaoru exclaimed. “I almost forgot! Misao should be finished soon with her recon, and she wanted an update. She said she’ll be going through the back.” With that, she stood and hurried through the dining area.

Koshijiro followed suit, and by the time he caught up, his daughter was greeting another girl around her age. She was shorter, her hair in a long braid, and her garb was designed for maximum mobility. She had a familiar face…recognition struck him.

“Otou-san, this is Makimachi Misao.”

“Nice to meet you!” She bowed in greeting, and he certainly remembered that cheeky voice.

“Thank you for hosting my daughter and her friends. But I believe we’ve met before, in Tokyo.” He said meaningfully.

A beat followed, as the girl scrutinized him. Then, her jaw dropped. “Oh. Ohhh. I did, uh, borrow your wallet.”

“Misao!” Kaoru was appalled. “You were the girl who stole from Otou-san?”

“I didn’t know, and I was running low on cash! Sorry!” She held up her hands, palm to palm in apology.

“It’s alright. I believe you’ve fully repaid with your hospitality. Although, it would be wise to refrain from stealing again.”

“For sure, I don’t need to anymore. I’m home again, and so is Aoshi-sama.” At this, her smile dropped. “Physically at least.”

“Are you speaking of Shinomori-san?” The last time Koshijiro had seen that man in person, he had broken into the dojo. He had followed a meandering path since then, but he must have changed for the better.

“Yeah…he’s been hurt too, but he doesn’t talk at all. It’s the emotional pain, I think.”

“That takes time, even longer than the physical.”

“I guess.” She gave a heavy sigh disproportionate to her petite frame.

Kaoru clasped her shoulder. “Misao, why don’t we get Megumi and my father settled in?”

“True, that’s something we can do. It’ll keep our minds off worrying about the men we love.” With renewed purpose, she bounded into the restaurant.

He gave his daughter a very pointed look. “And what exactly did she mean by that?”

Kaoru furiously blushed. “Otou-san, let’s talk later, okay?” And then, she rushed after Makimachi.

So far, people here had been hinting at something, but now this! This response was entirely unfamiliar, and he felt like his feet had been kicked out from under him. What on earth had happened while they were in Kyoto…?!

Somehow, he processed that he was assigned to the same room as Sagara and Yahiko, while Takani would join the girls. Space was cramped, but they had to make do. While his futon was set up, Kaoru had slipped into Himura’s room again, to his frustration. Later, indeed.

Makimachi introduced him to the rest of the Oniwabanshuu, four young men and women with variable injuries but equally bright smiles. They referred to her as their leader, which caused her to turn crimson. “That’s me, the Okashira. Haha!”

Her reaction was odd, and Koshijiro inquired. “Did you not want the position?”

“No, I do. That’s why I took it, when Aoshi-sama…well, he wasn’t in his right mind and I stepped in. But I’m still not used to it yet. But don’t think I’ll quit! I’ll embrace this responsibility, and lead the Oniwabanshuu into a new era!”

A new voice entered the conversation. “Well said, Misao!” Walking up to them, an older man stroked his gray beard. His bandaged shoulder concealed wounds of his own; this must have been Okina. “That determination is exactly what we need. And is this another of Himura-san’s friends?” After the usual pleasantries, he added. “Himura-san mentioned you.”

“Did he?”

“He said you were our trusted ally for the second line of defense in Tokyo, if we happened to fail here.”

Koshijiro glanced back at the too-quiet room. “I’m glad it didn’t have to come to that.”

“I feel the same way.” He smiled kindly. “Have faith in him, Kamiya-san. I was also on the precipice and I pulled through, even at my age. Himura-san will wake when he’s ready.”

Okina then spoke to Makimachi, of what seemed to be innocent errands but the deliberate phrasing made Koshijiro suspect it was code for internal matters. It was clear that he was nudging her into her role, presenting the decisions suitable for a leader to resolve; she was initially nervous but stood her ground. At the end, he was satisfied with her choices and she seemed bolstered. Saying that he’d see them around, the spy left to fulfill his duties.

Makimachi gave another heavy sigh. “Now, what to do, about Aoshi-sama. Oh! Maybe, he’d talk to you. Could you try?”

“I only met him briefly, and you know him best. At the moment, I believe he needs space.” Koshijiro then suggested. “You could write notes to him. My wife and daughter did so, when I was struggling in the past.”

“Notes, huh. That’s a pretty great idea, I can slide them into his room.” She beamed. “Thanks, Kamiya-san! I think I saw the ink and paper downstairs.”

As she grabbed the materials and ran, he remained in the dining area. Sagara and Yahiko were passing the time, playing a game of Go.

“How is he?” Sagara spoke out of the corner of his mouth, as he moved to capture a few white stones.

“Nothing new, as of yet.”

“But Kenshin is the strongest in Japan.” Yahiko insisted. “And he got some of Megumi’s medicine we brought, so that should help.”

“Did Kaoru give it to him?”

“Yeah, while they were talking on the rooftop.”

“Talking on the rooftop?” Koshijiro repeated, and the boy immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. “Why were they there?”

“Er…um…” His eyes were roving about. “They were sitting next to each other and talking really quietly, so it seemed serious. Like, they were gonna kiss or something…”

What?

“Come to think of it,” Sagara mused as he rolled a black stone between his left fingers. “Kenshin said something weird while we were in Shishio’s base. He thought he heard Jou-chan’s voice, and he felt better even if he only imagined it.”

What??

“And she was crying a lot when we came back, saying ‘please don’t die, Kenshin, stay with me’.” His voice hit a terribly executed falsetto. “She wouldn’t let go of his hand until the doctors came. Ah, oops. Sorry, old man, maybe you shouldn’t have-”

But he was already walking away. Before dinner began, he intended to have that conversation with Kaoru. She wasn’t in the girls’ room, only Takani was. She was in the middle of combing her hair and anticipated what he would ask.

“Are you looking for Kaoru? She’s still in his room.” She coolly said.

“Thank you, Takani-san.” He paused. “And thank you for your work today.”

“That’s what I can do for him. Apparently, Kaoru really helped overnight as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a fairly new practice in Japan. When someone loses blood, they can receive more from another person, but there are limitations and it can be dangerous. We’re still figuring it out. However, some people can give blood without fear of hurting someone. Kaoru is one of those people, she said she found out last year. With how much he’d already lost, there was no time to test Ken-san, so it was good to know that about her. Ken-san couldn’t have been stabilized so quickly if she wasn’t here.”

He considered this new information. “I didn’t know. Did you give him any blood as well?”

“I’m not in the same category as Kaoru. So, my expertise is all I can do for him.” Recognizing the double meaning of her own words, her rouged mouth twisted and she resumed pulling the comb through. It was best to leave her alone.

The door was slightly ajar, and he peered inside. Himura was covered up to his chin by blankets. Kaoru knelt at his side, and there was a severely torn gi in her lap, the needle jutting out of the fabric. Her expression was brimming with concern as she looked over him.

“Kaoru?”

She jerked her head towards him. “Otou-san? You can come in.”

He did, properly closing the door behind. He sat next to her, watching Himura’s slow, even breathing. “Any change?”

“No, he hasn’t woken up yet.” She undid a stitch, creating a tighter one in its place. “It’s hard to wait.”

“I know, Kaoru. It’s difficult, but he’s healthy and resilient.”

She didn’t respond at first, her throat working. “When they came back, the moon was rising. Behind them, there was a trail of blood. His blood. He couldn’t walk on his own, or raise his head. He was cold. And when the doctors were closing his wounds, he didn’t even react. Shishio bit into his shoulder, close to where the vessels were. I’m so scared for him.”

“However, you should take care of yourself as well. Overly worrying will not do you or him any good.” He gently reminded her.

“Yeah, but I can’t help it. Okaa-san died in her sleep too…” Her voice diminished as she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand.

At the memory, Koshijiro’s chest tightened. Without speaking, he lifted the blanket enough to find Himura’s hand. A few scrapes were already scabbed over, and his nails had been cut and cleaned. He placed two fingertips upon the sleeping man’s pulse. Rapid, but not abnormally so, given that his body was working hard to heal. “At the moment, he’s not in immediate danger. I heard he received some of your blood?”

She clasped the inner part of her left elbow, where it must have been taken from. “I did. While you were gone, the hospital was paying people for samples, that it could help in emergencies. It was after the students left, so I signed up. I was told that I have good blood, I can restore almost anyone.”

“Well, I expect nothing less from my daughter. You’ve done excellent work, from fighting off Kyoto’s attackers to giving your own life force to Himura-san. I’m very proud of you.”

Her smile was strained. “But he’s still fighting. Otou-san, I don’t want to lose him. We have to return to Tokyo together.” She was on the verge of tears, and he held her shoulder.

Waiting until she was calmer, he quietly broached the question. “Do you love him?”

“I…” She took a deep breath. “Misao’s been in love with Shinomori-san since she was very young. I only met Kenshin at the beginning of the year, but…I really care about him. After we were finished here, all I could wonder about was whether he was safe. I want him to be happy, and even though he carries his past regrets, I want to help him. I may not understand all of it, but if I can make him smile, that's enough for me.” She looked at Himura with an emotion Koshijiro had seen before but not from her. It had been in Kyoko’s face, when he read aloud to her while she was ill. It was longing, tenderness, a deep and unwavering love.

Oh. She really did love him. Not that he was completely surprised, but her confession made it definitive.

However, Himura had not declared his intentions at all. Towards Kaoru, what did he feel? Was it equal to her own for him? He had said goodbye only to her, but what if that had no deeper meaning? And what were the mixed feelings he had spoken of, when they reunited? There was still room for doubt, and thus, still a possibility for Kaoru to be hurt. Right now, Himura’s health was the priority, but after he recovered, there had to be a conversation. Until then, if she wasn’t directly assisting him, keeping the two of them apart at arm’s length was the best course of action. If Himura really did care for his daughter, he would be respectful, and at the very least, begin a courtship. If not…the distance would protect her. Even if she was an adult, Kaoru would always be his little girl. She deserved to be loved in return for what she gave, and anyone who treated her badly would earn his eternal resentment.

“Kaoru, when-” A rustle of movement interrupted him, as very slowly, Himura opened his eyes.

She set aside her sewing, drawing close to him. “Kenshin?”

He lifted his gaze, and his mouth formed a small smile in recognition. Almost too quietly to hear, he murmured. “Kaoru…dono.”

“I’m here, Kenshin. You’re safe at the Shirobeko. I’m glad you’re awake. Thank goodness…” She wiped away her tears of relief.

Urgently, Koshijiro stepped out, calling for Takani, who immediately rushed over. Unfortunately, he was already drifting back to sleep by the time she arrived, but she seemed reassured by the development. Sagara and Yahiko, panting from running upstairs, were disappointed that they hadn’t witnessed the moment. From below, someone complained of scattered Go pieces on the floor.

During the night, they took turns watching him, settled by a tournament of janken. With a win and a loss, Koshijiro was dealt one of the middle shifts. Through his two hours, Himura didn’t stir at all. If he was dreaming, it was hopefully good.

***

At dawn, he went with Sagara to look for their missing ally. They searched the shoreline, where the ship had sunk, and followed the trail to the rebels’ base, which Shishio’s remaining lackeys had fled. He spoke to the Kyoto police, who were making arrests, but no one had spotted the man nor his katana. It was altogether strange.

“Well, there hasn’t been a corpse.” Sagara pointed out. “But what was he thinking? There’s gotta be a reason that he went off alone.” He continued down the path, grumbling to himself.

Aloud, Koshijiro said. “Even wolves hunt better in packs. Isn’t that why I was given responsibilities in Tokyo?” The whistling wind was his only response.

When they returned, Yahiko shared that Himura was able to stay awake long enough for breakfast. Sagara barged in first, cheering to the point where Takani admonished him for being disruptive. She dragged him out by the ear, remarking that his dressings needed to be changed.

Koshijiro saw Himura uncovered for the first time. In the daylight, Himura was startlingly frail. He must have pushed his body beyond its limits, to defeat Shishio. Both of his shoulders were wrapped, the fabric crossing his abdomen. Another wound was at his right flank. Propped up on pillows, he was being spooned broth. By Kaoru.

He felt a twitch in his forehead. “Hello, Himura-san. I see that you are looking better.”

“Hello…Kamiya-dono.” His voice was slightly uneven.

Kaoru fed him another mouthful. “Let me know if you want your tea.”

Himura gave the barest nod, and even that required visible effort.

“The last time we met, it was before you left for Kioisaka.” Koshijiro said, sitting by the door. “I know you did not want to initially leave, but thank you for preserving this country’s peace. I am very glad that you survived, and that you did not have to break your vow.”

“So is this one.” He breathed out. “But this one came close, only once.”

Kaoru had evidently not heard this, because she lowered the bowl. “Kenshin?”

He spoke slowly, hesitantly. “It was after the first sakabato broke, and this one went to find the original smith. He had passed away, and his son was no longer crafting swords, to live quietly with his family. Then, one of the Ten Swords took their infant hostage. This one was given the only katana remaining, in order to save the child.”

Koshijiro frowned. Balancing the vow not to kill against the life of a baby? What kind of person would impose this choice upon Himura? “What did you decide?”

“This one used the scabbard to strike the enemy, and as he went down, this one saw that the sword was a sakabato after all.”

“So, that’s what happened.” Kaoru softly said.

“However, for a moment, this one considered drawing anyway.” His tone was serious; the memory weighed heavily on him. “In that second, it didn’t matter what kind of sword it was. But this one remembered something. The night when Jin-e kidnapped Kaoru-dono. The answer she gave this one, when her life was in danger. To not give in, even when it is tempting. To remember that life should be protected. So this one changed tactics. This one’s first thought was suited for Hiten Mitsurugi, but the issue was settled by Kamiya Kasshin.”

Himura had saved the child, while the principle of ‘the sword that protects life’ had saved him in turn. Since the beginning, he had taken the school’s message seriously, yet this was the first time he explicitly had it in mind during a fight. He was not only wielding a reverse-bladed sword, but the foremost lesson of Kamiya Kasshin as well. It was a subtle change, and Koshijiro approved, with an upwelling of pride and satisfaction.

Kaoru had recognized the significance as well, eyes wide and unconsciously leaning towards Himura. Her voice was hopeful. “Kenshin, you were thinking of Kamiya Kasshin?”

“This one did say that he preferred your vision.” And he smiled at her, a true one that reached his gaze.

Koshijiro realized that this was probably what Yahiko had seen on the rooftop. This closeness, like a magnetic draw to each other, even if they weren’t touching. Before he could remind them of his presence, another voice floated overhead.

“Finally, my idiot apprentice is awake.” Hiko was standing at the threshold, expression impassive.

Himura blinked. “You were here, Shishou?”

“Of course. It took me far too long, because you didn’t tell me the location of a place called the Aoiya.”

To Koshijiro’s surprise, Himura seemed annoyed. “This one believed you would ask.”

“Did you think any of these people would stop and provide directions, while the city was under attack?”

“If you did not know where it was, you could have said that, when this one first told you.”

“Both of you, stop it!” Kaoru interjected, lifting the spoon to Himura’s mouth. “Hiko-san, don’t pester him. Kenshin, you should take it easy. Everyone’s okay, so no more arguing. Understood?”

Reluctantly, they both nodded. A tentative stalemate. The silence was only disrupted by Himura’s sips.

She gave him the last of the broth, then half his tea to wash it down. She was about to stand, but Himura’s free fingers pinched her sleeve, keeping her close. “Thank you, Kaoru-dono.”

“You’re welcome, Kenshin.” She smiled down at him. There was no sign she was resuming her previous action.

“Arm’s length.” Koshijiro said, out of habit, only to remember that Hiko was standing right there.

The man erupted into loud, malicious laughter. “Is that how you’re living, baka deshi? At arm’s length?”

Himura actually scowled. “Shishou…”

“I’ve heard of horrific mothers-in-law, but you? You have a strict father-in-law.”

“Father-in-law?!” Koshijiro and Kaoru exclaimed simultaneously.

“W-what?” She stammered. “That’s not how it is! Otou-san doesn’t act like a…that would mean…”

Himura’s face was a shade close to his loose hair, and his jaw clenched. “Remind this one why you are still here, and not at the mountain.”

“My supplies are taking too long.”

“Yes, they are. Your demands must have been overwhelming.”

This was a different side of Himura, more like the young man he really was. Koshijiro thought it was refreshing, and honestly, his master was insufferable. Tired after finishing his meal, Himura’s eyelids started to fall. Kaoru ushered the men out to leave him be, though she didn’t linger either, stepping out moments later and taking his tray to the kitchen.

With nothing else to do, Hiko leisurely headed downstairs. “Will he be going to Tokyo with you?”

Koshijiro replied. “That is the plan, unless he expresses otherwise.”

“I doubt he will. I’d never seen my idiot apprentice at a loss for words, until your daughter walked into my house.”

“Didn’t he say he had mixed feelings?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard. Half anger and half relief, that’s what he said.”

Anger, presumably that she had followed him when he had willingly gone on this mission. But relief…he had been relieved to see her face. Neither of those emotions, however, were indicative of romantic love.

“But while he’s here,” Hiko continued. “I’ll make up for lost time. It’s entertaining to watch you put him in check. To think, after all these years, the idiot would actually listen to someone and it’s an overbearing tanuki father who just lost his arm.”

“I did not tell you when that happened.”

“No, but it’s in your bearing. You’re awkward, you haven’t entirely adjusted. You still believe you’re inadequate, and that burden is heavier than this coat. Well? What have you done to correct that?”

He really didn’t like this man. He retorted. “At the very least, I wasn’t drinking myself into a stupor out of worry.”

Hiko whipped around, coat flaring and eyes narrowed. Koshijiro refused to flinch.

Then, the so-called Thirteenth Master showed his gritted teeth. “It wasn’t out of worry. Sake is good at any time of the day, as long as there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“And I am content enough to be alive, with or without my left arm.”

“So, if neither of us have complaints, then we have nothing more to speak of. Tell my idiot apprentice I haven’t finished my supply run.” Abruptly, he marched on, striding out of the Shirobeko.

With his frustration boiling over, Koshijiro took the opportunity to begin repacking. He could handle his belongings perfectly fine. And he hated that Hiko’s observation had genuinely disturbed him. When the boys had described the battles, he had been thinking as well, of strategy and how he would have acted. But he had to rework every move, to account for his current state. The one-handed variant of Kamiya Kasshin was in development, and even though he had tested it, his opponent had been unskilled. With how he was now, he wouldn’t have been able to protect anyone in Kyoto, and his own responsibilities had their importance. But seeing everyone’s injuries had stung the swordsman in him. Once he was in the dojo, he’d have to continue his progress.

Kaoru must have heard the noise, because she knocked. Looking around the room, she asked. “You’re going home today?”

“I am. I have work tomorrow.” He turned to her. “Do you want to return with me?”

Immediately, she shook her head. “Kenshin can’t travel yet, and I don’t want to leave him. Or everyone else.”

Sagara and Yahiko were not ready either; Takani intended to continue her care of all of them during the week. On a positive note, Kaoru also enjoyed Makimachi’s company. The younger girl was boisterous and trained in martial arts, so it was no wonder they had become fast friends. “It’s alright if you stay.”

“Really?”

“Yes. After all, I’ll be back next weekend.”

She blinked. “Huh?! I mean, Otou-san, you don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Who else will enforce the arm’s length rule?”

“Geez, Otou-san! It’s still in place, even when Kenshin’s hurt?”

“Helping him is an exception. If nothing inappropriate will happen, then there is no issue.”

“I shouldn’t have told you anything.” She grumbled.

He gave a leveling stare. “Kaoru. You don’t mean that.”

“No.” With an exhale, she crossed her arms. “You’re just being really picky about this.”

He sensed that if he unveiled his full reasoning, particularly the possibility that Himura did not care for her in the way she most desired, she would be incredibly upset. Instead, he said. “As a young man and woman, this ensures that you’ll be mindful of how you act around each other. It seems that’s slipped in the past weeks.”

“So we should talk behind folding screens?” As if she hadn’t poked holes through rice paper when she was younger.

He ignored the sarcasm. “If your feelings are true, they will endure. Unless you become formally engaged, the rule will remain.” Wait. Damn it. Damn Hiko for mentioning the word ‘father-in-law’.

Kaoru was bright red. “…Alright.”

“I’m not saying that I expect an engagement or that if there was such a thing, you would be free to do whatever you like.” He hastily added. “It was a hypothetical example.”

“Uh-huh.”

Acutely aware he was digging a deeper hole, he excused himself to say goodbye to the others. Makimachi was in the hallway, lightly humming and glancing up from her ink-covered sheet of parchment.

“Are you leaving already, Kamiya-san? The rest of the Oniwabanshuu are out on tasks, so that’s too bad.”

“Give them my regards, although I’ll be here again in six days.”

“Oh, great! I followed your advice, by the way. Would you like to say anything to Aoshi-sama?”

“Only that I wish he recovers and despite a rough start, I appreciated his aid in this.”

“You got it!” She finished her note with a flourish and turned to the nearest door, cracking it open. She pushed the paper inside, and it fluttered to the tatami. A glimpse showed that Shinomori was in a meditating position, his rigid back towards them. She closed the door with forced cheer; she definitely had an uphill battle, but kindness always won out in the end.

Takani was mixing medicine, though she asked him to let Dr. Gensai know she would be staying. “And here are the pages.” She carefully tore them out of her book.

“It may take time, but I will do the best I can from my end.”

“Thank you, Kamiya-san.” She returned to her work, still melancholy but a little less than before.

Yahiko was next, and he handed off a folded square of paper. “It’s for Tsubame, I said I’d write to her after we won. Don’t read it!”

“I have no intention of doing so.” He gravely answered. Sae also approached with her own message to her twin, which he promised he would deliver. He reiterated his gratitude to her and the staff, and that he was sorry to impose upon them again. It was no trouble, they insisted, and it was fun to have the Shirobeko so lively. Throughout the city, many others had been left with damaged homes, and as it had been with disasters in history, it was the time to come together.

Sagara was attempting to use chopsticks with his left hand, clacking them together. “See you, old man. I’ll be as good as you with one hand, next time we meet.”

“I’m far from an expert.” He humbly said. “Please don’t overexert yourself.”

He did enter Himura’s room one last time, but he was still sleeping. These initial days of recovery would be vital, and Koshijiro hoped he would never receive a telegram bearing bad news.

He took the afternoon train, and his daughter saw him off. “I’ll see you soon.” He intently looked at her.

“Bye.” She huffed but gave him a quick hug before he boarded. And with that, he was alone once more.

***

Despite the late hour, his first stop was the home of the assistant chief inspector, and Tokio greeted him. Her gaze briefly searched behind him, though she maintained a neutral, polite face. He delivered the facts, that her husband was unaccounted for.

“Have you received any correspondence from him?” He asked.

“No, not since he asked if we could take in Eiji.”

Silence fell over them, the worst possibility left unspoken.

“Did he have any contacts I can reach out to?”

“My husband’s work is highly classified, and I don’t think we are at that point yet. I’m more concerned with why he hasn’t notified me. Nothing can tame a wolf of Mibu, but he comes home if he’s told to. And I told him to come home.” Tokio emphasized. Her gaze was tracked on the horizon, and only the slight trembling of her hands gave away that she was in turmoil.

“You will be the first to know if I hear anything from Kyoto.”

“Thank you, Kamiya-san.” From within the house, Tsutomu whined, and Eiji called out hesitantly to her. She gave a quick bow before hurrying to the children, the door closing behind her.

If…no, when he saw Fujita again, he would have to give him a piece of his mind. Worrying his allies and his own family was too much.

The following morning, he kept his promise to Takani. He sent the information she had provided to the police department in her hometown, requesting for anyone who met the descriptions and to write back to him. In the meantime, he would continue to work, with his lunch break at the Akabeko so he could deliver the letters. Tae thanked him, and Tsubame had turned pink upon reading her paper.

According to recent reports, there was a scavenger in the vicinity of Chinshu Forest, and the station was told to keep an eye out. The younger officers also said there were rumors of a ghost, which Koshijiro ignored. When one of the rookies, Ikehira, went to investigate and confessed he had just missed whoever this scavenger was, but they could set up a perimeter. Koshijiro detoured there on his way home, to see if he could uncover more.

He heard the noises first. Dull scraping, heavy breathing. He kept his hand on his baton, as he drew closer. Near a small shrine, there was a young boy, scrambling in the dirt. He was around Yahiko’s age and he was singularly focused on rearranging the ground. Grass bits and clumps of earth were scattered around him.

“Hello?” Koshijiro called out. “Are you lost?”

The boy turned, and Koshijiro saw that he was a filthy child, as if he had been living in the wilderness. Like an animal, he bared his teeth and ran off. Koshijiro made to follow, but the boy was faster and smaller, disappearing into the brush. Within a few minutes, he could only hear his own footsteps. Unable to pursue any further without venturing into unknown territory, he resorted to finding his way out of the forest, back into town. He had not heard news of a missing boy, so who was that?

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #kamiya koshijiro #kenkao #which our narrator is forced to address again #i have a much better idea of this story from now on #so i hope you'll cry a lot and laugh a lot too #<3

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 14

*dojo door slams open* Dad’s home.

Thank you for your patience! Now that this is the last installment correlating to the Kyoto arc, the next chapter will be an interlude before we hop onto the angst train. I know it took a long time for this update, and this past year has been a struggle, given I had to prepare for a major exam (which I passed, so that’s something!) and the current state of the world. The events of this chapter cover Kaoru’s childhood to the Seinan war, including several traumatic events. Content warnings for death of a parent, depictions of war, PTSD, death of a spouse, and depictions of hospitalization. Let me know what you think, and please take care of yourselves.

Chapter 14: Becoming a Father

When he emerged from Commissioner Kawaji’s office, Koshijiro let exhaustion take over. He had stayed awake two hours past midnight to finalize his evacuation plan, and the entire morning had already flown by due to the commissioner grilling him on the details. He had fended off the questions with varying degrees of success, until he was dismissed with a scowl.

He returned to his desk, settled in his chair, and closed his eyes. Just for a minute…

“Officer Kamiya, we received a message requesting backup.” Shinichi nervously interrupted his rest.

He shook off the lethargy, to see the rookie. Occasionally, the young officers were called on for assistance, and Koshijiro had to accompany them as their direct superior. “Please tell me the details on the way there. Let’s head over.”

There was a clash at the fish market, reportedly between two rival gangs. The details of the feud were unknown, but both sides were agitated and aggressive. Shouts and crashes could be heard from a block away. As Koshijiro and the others approached, the noise intensified. The scene was chaotic. Men were exchanging blows and throwing various items at each other. Bloodied faces drifted in and out among the mob, along with the uniforms of officers. The rookies immediately launched themselves into the fray, disappearing in a matter of moments.

A flash of red barreled towards Koshijiro’s right, and he instinctively caught…an octopus. His arm held the creature to his chest, and its tentacles curled around his sleeve and towards his neck. Gingerly, he set it in a nearby bucket of water, and it wriggled in relief. Now that he looked closer, some of the thrown items were raw seafood.

But not all.

A sword swung towards Koshijiro, the rusty edge aiming for his temple, and he ducked. His right hand fell to his bokken, as he analyzed his opponent. A shorter, stockier man with a gap-toothed grin and a death wish, apparently. Koshijiro drew his bokken, moving into a defensive position.

It wasn’t difficult to read his movements, and when the man attempted an overhead swing, Koshijro blocked. The force was intense, and he had to widen his stance. However, that set him up perfectly for the next move. With an inhale, he pushed back, lifting his back foot off the ground to hook around the man’s knee. The man gave a startled exclamation as his feet turned inward, and Koshijiro disengaged. His opponent threatened to fall forward and that left him open for a strike at the sensitive point behind the elbow. The man’s grip spasmed, but even if he could somehow shake off the numbness, Koshijiro was already following through with another blow to the back of the head. Koshijiro watched him go down, and the immediate handcuffing by Officer Abe, who was on standby.

“Whoa, Kamiya-san, that was awesome!”

“Well, I’m glad it worked. I’ve been thinking over this maneuver for some time.” He was rather proud of his success, and confidently, he moved on.

In total, fifty people were arrested, jailed, and scheduled for questioning. He had volunteered for the last shift of interrogation and didn’t return home until past midnight. Koshijiro prepared for bed, and every movement was abnormally loud. Once he had closed his eyes, his ears rang from the eerie silence.

How long had it been since they were gone? June was already coming to a close. Kaoru’s birthday was at the end of the week and he was in Satsuma for her last one. Their usual celebration was a nice dinner, but he felt like this one should be grander, to make amends. He would have to think of something soon…as a testament to how tired he was, he fell asleep mid-thought.

When he woke, he scrambled for the time and realized he was running late. The train would arrive soon, and he had promised to be at the station. He skipped breakfast and broke into a sprint as he drew closer, but he made it to his destination. Tokio rose from a bench, lifting her little son.

“Kamiya-san, thank you for being here. Are you alright?”

He took a moment to catch his breath. “Yes, I’m fine. I see the train’s here?” The locomotive seemed to be giving a long exhale, the turning of the wheels slowing with each cycle.

“Yes, but they must be checking the passengers before they let them out.” She adjusted her hold on Tsutomu, his sleeping face squished against her collar.

They watched the disembarking people and scanned the faces for a boy of the right description. Finally, he stepped out. He was about ten or eleven, and his hair was mussed from sleeping at an odd angle. Noticing their gazes, he cautiously approached, looking up at Tokio.

“Are you Fujita-san?”

“I am and this is my son, Tsutomu. Kamiya-san is my husband’s colleague.”

Koshijiro nodded in greeting. “It’s good to meet you. How was your journey?”

“Long. It wasn’t too bad until the train.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wanted to go on foot like Kenshin did, the train is too noisy.”

“You met Himura-san?”

“Yeah. He really helped me out in my village.” He became quiet, obviously remembering. “He did say, ‘Kamiya-dono will be in Tokyo, so there is no need to worry.’”

Koshijiro coughed to conceal his embarrassment. “I see. Well, I heard he made it to his destination, so there’s no need to worry about him either.”

Tokio knelt to meet Eiji at eye level. “My husband informed me that you lost your parents and brother. I’m so sorry.”

“Kenshin helped me.” Eiji stared at his feet. “He said the dead only want the living to be happy.”

“He wasn’t wrong.” Koshijiro quietly said. “Your family would want that for you.”

They walked out, and Tokio intended to treat Eiji to a well-deserved meal. She extended the invitation to Koshijiro but he had to decline. “Some other time. I’ll stop by now and then, to check in. If there’s anything you need, you can always visit the Kamiya dojo.”

On his way back, he passed a flower seller, hawking baskets teeming with small pink and white deutzia. They greatly resembled cherry blossoms and he remembered they were gone by August. He turned around and paid for one bouquet, mentally mapping out the detour to the cemetery.

Kyoko will surely love these flowers.

***

Everything about Kaoru was utterly charming. Her little yawns, the way she stretched her whole body when she woke, the downy hair capping her head, her plush grip gently enclosing his thumb. She was an energetic baby, working her fingers and flailing her limbs as if testing them out. She was more than Koshijiro and Kyoko could have asked for.

She grew quickly, and Koshijiro was loath to miss a moment. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Kyoko and Osue-san, who visited thrice a week to help out. The majority of his day was spent working, so when he returned home at Kaoru’s early bedtime, Kyoko encouraged him to rock their daughter to sleep. She reassured otherwise but he had felt awkward in the early days, too large and clumsy for his tiny girl. As he strolled through the house, Kaoru’s round eyes intently focused on his face before she slowly nodded off.

When she was a few months old, Koshijiro noticed a bright blue ribbon tied around her head. “Hm? What’s this?’ He asked Kyoko.

“I noticed she has a bald spot, so I thought to cover it with the ribbon.” Meanwhile, Kaoru didn’t seem to mind, happily rolling onto her belly and offering Koshijiro a smile.

He sat beside her and one pudgy hand touched his knee before she tried to lift her upper body. Her feet pushed against the tatami but she didn’t budge. As she struggled to move to his lap, her barely visible eyebrows drew together and she made a loud noise of frustration. Amused, he picked her up by the armpits and remarked. “It’s a little early for you to crawl, Kaoru, but it’s good that you’re eager.”

“She’ll be crawling soon.” Kyoko joined them, adjusting the blue ribbon so it was more secure. “And then, she’ll walk and run.”

“Not too fast for us, I hope.”

But for now, Kaoru was still small enough to hold. While their little home was cozy and quiet, it was not as peaceful outside. The disasters of the Ansei era had accumulated in the past two years: cholera raging through Edo, an earthquake in Hida, an assassination near the Sakurada gate. A treaty with the Americans had been signed, resulting in widespread discontent. With the ports open to trade, the markets and routes changed. Inflation drove costs up, as foreigners bought gold. The shogunate was proving to be increasingly unequipped to handle current issues.

Meanwhile, Koshijiro continued to teach kenjutsu. His students were eager to use real blades and threatened to leave if they couldn’t. He did his best to ensure everyone was safe, but he only had one pair of eyes. There were several close calls. After a particularly nasty duel between two students, he sent a doctor for their injuries and ended class early. When everyone had left, he sat on the freshly cleaned dojo floor, rubbing his forehead. The students were eager to fight and yes, they needed to know how to protect themselves, but was he enabling them? What would his predecessors think of him?

“Sorry to interrupt.”

He turned to see Kyoko, holding their baby daughter and beaming at him. “It’s Otou-san, Kaoru. Otou-san.”

Kaoru gave a delighted cry, waving her fist. How could he possibly be despondent?

Kyoko handed her off, and the baby’s soft cheek grazed his. She nuzzled, turning her face against his shoulder, and he held her tighter. Meeting his wife’s tender gaze, he smiled. “Thank you.”

Once Kaoru could toddle about, there was no stopping her, and she took obvious joy in being followed. Her wide smile over her shoulder was a precious thing to behold. When she’d fall, her tears weren’t out of pain but desire for comfort, for she quickly stopped once she was held. Soon enough, even those subsided, and she’d resume walking as if nothing happened.

After one such occurrence, Kyoko began to laugh. “Her face looks just like yours! So determined!”

“If that’s so, then she certainly takes after you too.” But he laughed as well.

It was during those blissful days that his father returned. He had sent a letter in advance, explaining he no longer had work in Kunitake’s area and would be transferring back home. Koshijiro personally suspected they had a falling-out but kept his reply succinct and inviting. Otou-san arrived with the summer heat, and Koshijiro stepped away from the dojo to greet him with a bow.

“Welcome back.”

“Koshijiro, it’s good to be home.” His father smiled. He was noticeably thinner, the lines on his face deeper. “Oh? Is that Kaoru-chan?”

He glanced towards the porch, to see his daughter staring at them, before she unsteadily ran into the house. “Oka! Oka!”

“Calling for her mother?” Otou-san’s tone was both amused and wistful.

“Her first word as well. Please, come in.” As he offered, he took his father’s satchel. It was surprisingly light. Had Otou-san sold his belongings…or was he kicked out?

Kyoko appeared, Kaoru clinging to her leg. “Welcome! Are you hungry at all? We can have lunch early.”

They settled him in, and the tension seemed to leave his frame. He was in his early sixties, Koshijiro thought, but his age had never shown until now. He moved slower, he slept heavier and longer, and he was not as boisterous as before. Worried, Koshijiro sent for one of Kyoko’s doctors. For the most part, Otou-san’s health was fair, but his heart was weak and they would have to keep an eye on him. Plenty of rest and a daily routine would help, and they did their best to make him comfortable. Otou-san dove into his art with full force, and more often than not, he could be found painting in the yard. He happily gave Kaoru any paper and ink she wanted to draw with, and allowed her to drum her fists against his back in a makeshift massage. He also got along well with Kyoko, who effortlessly charmed everyone in her orbit anyway. Most of his father’s paintings were sold, but if Kyoko expressed a liking for one, he would set it aside for safekeeping.

“Aha! I see the pattern now.” Otou-san clapped his hands together, after a brief survey of Kyoko’s choices. “You have a keen eye for the seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, winter.”

“Of course, and you depict them so well, Otou-sama. But do you have any preferences on what you paint?”

“Not particularly, though it’s better if everything I see remains still while I’m working.” He joked. “But that’s hardly ever the case. Such is life.” And to prove his point, Kaoru hurtled past him, running at full speed to escape a harried Osue, who was attempting to wash her face.

A few months later, they celebrated Kaoru turning three. The zori only lasted a few steps before she kicked them off with obvious relief and to Osue-san’s chagrin. Her pudgy hands held a long stick of chitose ame, which she eagerly crammed into her mouth.

“Yes, live a long, happy life, Kaoru.” Kyoko murmured. Her fatigue had been worse as of late, and she rested against Koshijiro’s shoulder.

When Kaoru dozed off too, worn out by the day’s activities, Koshijiro held her in his lap. Glancing about to make sure no one else was looking, he pressed a kiss on both of their cheeks, his wife’s cool one and his daughter’s slightly sticky one.

Now that she was old enough, Koshijiro had crafted a bokken to match Kaoru’s size, and she would follow along with morning stretches. Anything more would be too advanced, and she usually fussed when Kyoko had to pull her away. Eventually, Koshijiro noticed perforations in the rice paper, at about the eye level of a little girl. It then became a matter of catching her in the act. He listened carefully for a tiny pop, and after a moment, opened the door to find her staring up at him.

“Kaoru, did you do this?”

“No!” But she sucked in a breath and turned to run away. Koshijiro easily stepped around her.

“I’m going to ask again. Did you poke holes in the doors?”

She squirmed, her mouth petulantly twisting. “…it’s fun.”

“But it isn’t very nice. It worries me and your mother when we have to fix them. And we don’t like being mad at you. Can you be good and promise you’ll stop?” He extended his pinky finger towards her.

“Hmph.” She pouted but she linked her tiny finger with his and they shook on it.

“That’s a promise.”

Her voice was small and uncertain when she asked. “Do you hate me?”

“No, of course not. I never could, and Okaa-san feels the same way.” As the words left him, he suddenly remembered his own childhood voice, declaring that he would never be anything like his father. Gods, he must have caused Otou-san a great deal of pain and he’d never realized until now.

When he spoke with Kyoko, she insisted that they have a conversation. “You need to talk with him alone. There’s still time to make things right between you. As long as you’re alive, you can have another chance.”

He decided to do so, one morning. Otou-san was in his usual spot in the yard, trying to capture the autumn scenery with his paints. He shuffled towards the porch, spared a glance at Kyoko. She narrowed her eyes at his stalling, and urged him to keep moving with quick waves of her hand. Suppressing a sigh, he moved to stand by his father.

“That looks lovely.” He lamely nodded at the painting. What was he doing?

His father laughed. “Thank you. I know you’re not as passionate as I am about this, but I appreciate it. Is something on your mind?”

“I spoke to Kaoru about the holes in the door, and she reminded me of the past.” He slowly said. “I remember some of the unkind words I dealt to you when I was a child, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. As you said, you were a child and our situation was…unexpectedly complicated. But I never blamed you or your mother.” He set his brush down, resting it on a small ceramic dish with murky water. “I think if Miyo had been with us, like when you were younger, it might be easier to talk with each other. Maybe, she’d still be with us.”

The wind swept through, and a lull fell over them. Koshijiro cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden lump there. “Kyoko says people live on in the stories we tell.”

“She’s right.” He paused. “I never told you how I met your mother.”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, it wasn’t romantic. I fell asleep by the river, while sketching. I only meant to have a nap, but when I woke up, it was morning and Miyo was standing over me. Then, I kept seeing her all the time, while I was in town. Our paths crossed frequently after that. I was happy whenever I saw her, and disappointed when I didn’t. When I found that she was looking for work, I hired her. And after that, I only fell deeper. I was sure…that we could live happily together. But Otsuna and Kunitake were jealous. I knew they were, but I raised them like my own after my cousin and wife died. I did my best, trying not to choose. Miyo never told me she was pregnant with you, and when I met you, you were almost a year old. But I couldn’t let you either of you go again. You probably don’t remember much, but despite the circumstances at the time, the famine and uncertainty, those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

Something gave in his chest at his father’s words and sober expression. Otou-san was not perfect by any means, far from it, and yet…he was only human in the end. “That time is vague in my memories but I was happy too.”

“I am sorry though. I never meant for you to be hurt by your siblings, and I did speak to them multiple times. Their harassment is a failure on my part. I don’t know where I went wrong, but please believe that I never encouraged their behavior.”

“I believe you and that it’s not entirely your fault.” He assured. “There comes a point when immaturity is no longer an excuse and I doubt they ever found it. Years ago, I would have thought it difficult to uproot the resentment I have. But I can now. I do forgive you and I think I understand you a little better now. Even more so because I have Kyoko and Kaoru.”

Otou-san looked as if he was about to cry, and he was at a loss for what to do. Almost as if on cue, the door opened to signal someone was on the porch. Kaoru darted towards them, with a wide smile. “Jii-jii!” She twirled in place, her little ponytail flying. “This new ribbon is pretty, right?”

His father nodded, voice light. “Of course! It’s the same color as a rose. And you’re pretty from head to toe. And what does your Otou-san think?”

They both turned to him, and Koshijiro cleared his throat. “Yes, Kaoru, it’s very nice. Did Okaa-san buy it for you?”

“Uh-huh. We match now! Tou-san, come see.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the house amidst his father’s laughter. Kyoko had tied her own rose-colored ribbon in her bun, and she lifted her head from her sewing with a smile when they rejoined her at the table.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome. How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“Then, that’s good.” Their private conversation was interrupted by Kaoru, wondering where one of her books was.

In the evenings, Kyoko read aloud to Kaoru, who had claimed a spot to nestle between them in their futon. Koshijiro was embarrassed whenever he fell asleep to his wife’s voice, but those were rare, since Kaoru would poke his side and ask if he wanted to read next. She would try to turn the pages for him, intent on helping move their nightly story forward. She already knew a few kanji, including her name, and Koshijiro was very proud.

There was one issue that arose. One of the new books Kaoru liked was about a family, which had multiple children. The youngest was a newborn girl, and Kaoru seemed fascinated, her fingers lingering on the baby’s descriptions. Once Kyoko ended the tale, the inevitable question came.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes?”

“Where do babies come from?”

“Hmm.” Kyoko pretended to ponder over the matter. “Well, they appear when an Okaa-san and an Otou-san wish very hard.”

“Oh. So I will wish.”

“Wish for what, Kaoru?”

“A little sister!”

“That’s such a nice wish.” Kyoko mildly replied. “Now, let’s go to sleep.”

Koshijiro fervently hoped that would be the end, but as the seasons changed, Kaoru was still loudly expressing her desire for a younger sister. It became a daily inquiry, and at last, Koshijiro decided to gently break the news to her, before going to bed.

“Perhaps, you should think of a new wish. A little sister probably isn’t on its way.”

“Why not?” She demanded.

“W-well…” He stammered, thrown off guard. “It takes two people to make that kind of a request?” Kyoko immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes shut and shoulders trembling with concealed laughter. “Two adults, like me and your mother.”

“Tou-san, then wish with Kaa-san.”

What had he done to deserve this conversation? “But when a baby comes, you can’t exchange it, even if it’s a boy.”

“A little brother would be okay too, like Hitomi-chan’s.” Kaoru conceded, referring to one of her older playmates.

Thankfully, Kyoko took over, still smiling from the aftershocks. “Kaoru, we waited a very long time for you. We wished and prayed and nearly gave up. I don’t know if we can be that lucky a second time. But if you’re feeling lonely, let’s invite Hitomi-chan and your other friends over more often. And there are other children who live nearby too. Maybe, there will be someone who would like a big sister. What do you think?”

“…alright.” Over her head, Kyoko and Koshijiro exchanged relieved glances.

***

Emperor Meiji ascended to the throne, and a power struggle with the shogunate seemed imminent. Nothing in the news was particularly uplifting, a prelude to the certain turmoil.

One wintry morning, he passed by Otou-san’s room and stopped. The door was wide open, though without signs of a struggle. In the front, his father’s shoes were missing, and a quick scan confirmed that the yard was empty. A sense of foreboding overcame him. He walked past the gate, looking down the road to find a set of shallow footprints. They led to a large tree, shielding any snow from covering Otou-san’s sitting form. As he approached, the foreboding grew stronger, and it was only confirmed when he gently placed his palm upon his father’s shoulder. There was no heat at all. Otou-san’s face was perfectly tranquil, his final moments of acceptance, and Koshijiro bowed his head.

“Thank you, and goodbye. I’ll take you to Okaa-san now.”

The funeral was surprisingly crowded, with many people offering to pay their respects. It was clear that Otou-san had been respected and loved, by not only his colleagues but also the neighborhood and his fellow artists. Noticeably, there were two figures who never showed, but Koshijiro did not mind. It was best that his wife and daughter wouldn’t meet his siblings. Preferably never at all. Otou-san’s ashes were laid to rest beside the simple grave of the woman he loved, and Koshijiro blinked back sudden tears at the sight of his parents, reunited in death.

Kyoko’s familiar hand slipped into his. “It’s alright. You can cry, if you need to.” She gently said.

“Forgive me, Kyoko. I don’t know why-” He broke off, his voice shaky. He didn’t know why his composure was crumbling at this moment, when he had handled the funeral arrangements so steadily.

“Shh. I’m here, and so is Kaoru. We’re here.” Her gaze shone with her own tears, and Kaoru clung to Koshijiro’s other side, brows drawn together. They remained in a close huddle, all the way home. The house was quieter, and sometimes, there’d be an extra bowl set out by accident, but like years ago, the grief was easier to bear with time.

That spring, he was on midnight patrol, lantern in hand. A distant clamor rerouted him, and he kept one hand on the hilt of his katana as he hurried towards the shouts. A couple of shadows were already fleeing, leaving four bodies. One emitted a weak rattling cough. He drew closer and the lantern’s glow illuminated the man’s bloody face. “Hayashi?!” He checked for a pulse on his friend’s slick neck. Rapid, but present. He stabilized Hayashi, just as his colleagues rushed over.

The story was that it had been a group of ruffians, looking for anyone to rob in this economic crisis. Hayashi did survive, though at the cost of a maimed right leg. He was despondent; such an injury meant an end to kenjutsu and his service to his lord. “I’ll be thrown away, who wants a cripple for protection?”

“Don’t say that,” Koshijiro tried to persuade him. “Focus on getting better first, before returning to work.”

“As if. Just leave me to die and go back to your own dojo.” Hayashi snarled. That only served to steel Koshijiro. He wrote to Maekawa and Kikuhara, requesting their assistance, and continued to visit with food and water.

Maekawa was there within the week, and spoke nothing of kenjutsu, just boisterously singing as he cleaned Hayashi’s row house. Kikuhara was unable to do anything in person, but he sent packages of books, paintings, and other things to pass the time with. At first, Hayashi shouted at them, to the point where he wore himself out. They took meals at his bedside if he wouldn’t move and changed his dressings, and although Maekawa was skeptical that they were helping at all, Koshijiro insisted they were. Hayashi’s strength was slow to build, given his initial resistance, but he left his bed in order for them to stop nagging, as he put it, and scowled as he ate. He no longer raised his voice or spoke of dying. Despite his perpetual bitter mood, it was progress.

Koshijiro believed they were going to finally get him out of the house, only to find that the door chained in place. Hayashi had left a folded note in one of the edges. Thank you for staying with me, but I need to find my own way in life again.

A search resulted in nothing. Maekawa expressed his characteristic confidence that Hayashi would be fine, wherever he ended up, and Koshijiro reluctantly accepted that he had to trust his friend would continue to live on.

His dojo was faring well; there were many who were eager to learn how to fight or have their sons learn. At seven, Kaoru relished helping out, and he tended to ask for her to demonstrate, especially for the newcomers. She was as old as he was, when he first started learning, and with her head start, she was very good at kenjutsu and knew it. She loved being in the dojo, and although Koshijiro was proud of her enthusiasm, she did fight with some of the boys who were prejudiced towards a female classmate and mistakenly believed she was weaker. More than once, he had to break up a tussle. Punishment was dealt equally too, he didn’t want to favor his daughter and he could handle her grumpiness afterward. If she wanted to spar those boys in a designated match, however, he never objected.

Kyoko was much more apprehensive. “I’m not saying she can’t be in the dojo. I don’t want to confine her; I want her to enjoy life.” She was very firm about that sentiment, given her upbringing. “But I’m worried she’ll be hurt. It’s different for women. Men are allowed to bear scars with pride, whereas we’re expected to hide them.”

“I understand, but she’s growing up and she knows how to pick herself up when she falls. Kaoru’s resilient, like you.”

“That’s kind of you to say, dear.” It was an evasive reply. She still wasn’t mollified and fretted over Kaoru’s bruises and scrapes. Kaoru complained about the thick ointments, that most of her injuries were accidents and in the increasingly rarer fights, the dumb boys kind of deserved it. Koshijiro silently agreed with the latter point, as he bandaged his daughter up.

The majority of his students were now outside the samurai class, and somehow, word must have spread because he had a spectator who lingered after one class.

“Are you interested in joining?” Koshijiro inquired.

“It would be an honor but no. I am here as a representative of Omura.” The man smiled. “Have you heard of him?”

“Omura Masujiro? The Choshu strategist?”

“Yes, I’m glad you recognized him. But are you are aware of the cause he fights for?”

“It seems you’ll tell me regardless.”

There was the usual talk about sonno joi, or the expulsion of foreigners. But one thing caught Koshijiro’s attention. “The samurai class has abused their power and wealth for far too long. What we want is to remind them that at their core, they are no better than anyone else. To level the field, so to speak, and put an end to the four class system. Think about it, and we’ll be in town.” He provided the name of an inn they frequented and departed.

The conversation kept surfacing in Koshijiro’s thoughts. He did not believe that foreign influence was totally beneficial. The consequences of famine, economic turmoil, and disease were too severe to be ignored. Hayashi was one of many who had suffered from the growing unrest among the people. But it was too late to close the borders again. The military was already incorporating Western technology, and Choshu was offering military training to commoners. Omura’s follower spoke of humbling the samurai. Abolishing the class structure…he could accept that idea. Takaoka was supporting Satsuma and Choshu, the leaders of the rebellion. They were gathering anyone who was willing to go to Kyoto and assist in the fight to end the shogunate. A number of samurai from Oyumi were going, including Koshijiro’s direct superior, but before he could leave, he had to speak to Kyoko and Kaoru.

Kyoko responded first. “Of course, I want you to stay and be safe. If you leave, you might never return. But…” She stared at her own hands, wrapped around her teacup. A few wisps of hair escaped from behind her ear, and he reached over to tuck them back. “You feel very strongly about this.” With an inhale, she firmly straightened and met his gaze. “Promise us you’ll survive.”

“I promise. Will you and Kaoru be alright?”

Their daughter hadn’t said anything yet, her eyes wide as she looked at them. Kyoko reached for her hands, drawing her closer.

“Kaoru and I will be fine. I’m certain we won’t be the only women left behind either. We’ll manage and welcome you home when you return.”

“We’ll be here, Otou-san, don’t worry about us.” Kaoru’s voice was subdued, but she attempted a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll be home again before you know.”

He had been very naïve.

***

His first experience with war could never be forgotten. From the march on foot to the first battle cry in earshot, it all stayed with him. Most of the early days blurred together, leaving the impression of sore feet and shoulders. But when they reached Kyoto, the adrenaline surged within him and his fingers shook as he loaded his gun.

One moment, it was quiet. The next, commands were shouted down the line, and then, there was cracking gunfire and smoke. The soldier next to him was struck by a bullet. The man in front was cut down, blood seeping through his uniform. Behind him, an enemy cannonball landed on people he couldn’t name but their screams of agony echoed forever.

It was madness. Every day was a fresh ordeal.

The first time he killed a man, it was with his sword. It had been a long day, and his opponent was too slow for one moment. That was all it took, Koshijiro’s blade sinking deeper than either of them expected. The man’s features slackened, and Koshijiro knew he was already gone. The body twitched several times, before finally falling as the sword was removed. Koshijiro’s feet were planted to the ground, which was gradually darkening in color.

I’m sorry.

The words died on his tongue, as a bullet flew past, the sound deafening and reminding him that to stay still in battle meant death. He couldn’t linger, he had to keep moving. He had promised Kyoko and Kaoru he would come home to them, and that became his anchor on the battlefield. Even if doing so meant that he had to feel hollow for all of the rest.

***

“Otou-san? Otou-san?”

Koshijiro jolted. Kaoru was standing before him. When had she approached? He hadn’t noticed.

She beamed at him. “We’re having lunch now.” The sunlit yard stretched behind her, and he gripped the edges of the porch.

He had been home for a week, yet nothing felt real. He should be happy, he was alive and not in bad shape. Many men had not returned at all. But he felt like part of him had been left behind on the battlefield, drifting aimlessly and pulling the rest of him with it until a loud noise startled him and then he was on edge. It wore him out; he was constantly tired, despite waking well after sunrise. And there were the nightmares. He didn’t feel right.

Things had changed in Chiba too. Osue had succumbed to pneumonia in his absence, and he had already paid numb respects to the faithful old woman. Kyoko was understandably melancholy, not helped at all by how her illness had taken a turn. She was on bedrest, and her medicines had increased in quantity. Neither of them were sure how well they were working.

“We met a woman who teaches kenjutsu.”

“You did?”

“Her name is Chiba-san, as in the Chiba clan. Kaoru and I were buying groceries, and she was in her uniform. She was kind enough to invite us to her afternoon lesson. Kaoru really enjoyed it, so I feel more at ease.”

“Then, you can attend her lessons more often. It would be good for Kaoru.” He hadn’t been teaching, he wasn’t ready. Kyoko understood, but Kaoru clearly missed it. Even though she liked Chiba-san’s lessons, he overheard the two of them talking, while they thought he was having a nap.

“Is Otou-san going to be okay?”

“I don’t know yet, Kaoru.”

“He doesn’t talk about the war. It must have been scary.”

“It would be better not to ask. There are some things your father can’t share with us, that he wants to shield us from.” Kyoko evenly said. “When it’s time, he’ll share.”

“And what if he never does?”

“Then, that’s alright. We’ll be here to support him, just like always. He’s still your Otou-san, no matter what.”

“Oh. I get it now.”

His sight flooded and he doubled over. Kyoko and her infinite patience! And his innocent daughter, whose feelings were hurt. Here he was, being pathetic. He didn’t step out to acknowledge them, but he resolved in his heart that he would try to return to normal.

He wrote a routine for himself, including meditation and what to think of to pull himself back to reality. He was out of bed before his wife and daughter, to clean the dojo and equipment, before reintroducing kenjutsu back into his life. But he couldn’t use a real blade anymore. Never again, not even to keep students. He couldn’t let go of the sword, but he could forge a new relationship with it, to protect who was important to him. He began drafting new kata, on defending and disarming. The work anchored him even further, kept him from falling too deeply into listlessness.

Kyoko and Kaoru were encouraging, every step of the way. His wife woke him from the worst nightmares, and she intuitively knew when to give him space and when to be near. She always made her presence known, never startling him. When he returned to work, his satchel hid little notes in her handwriting, heartfelt reminders that pushed back against his dark thoughts. Kaoru was determined to make him smile once a day. Her good cheer was infectious, as she took over in leading their daily stretches. Upon finding her mother’s notes, she added her own, complete with the signature she was practicing. One of her first sewing projects was a handkerchief for him, a fine dark green with three leaves, and she presented it with such pride, his weariness lifted.

It wasn’t always easy. Some days, he faltered, folded in on himself. It wasn’t until months later that he could think back and realize how low he had been. He wasn’t certain if he’d ever feel like that again, but he learned to recognize the triggers and cope.

Now that the Emperor had moved to the freshly renamed Tokyo and there was peace at last, properties were up for grabs. The more Koshijiro heard, the more he leaned into the possibility. There was excellent medical care in the capital, and plenty of work to be had. The influx of people also meant more potential students. It was a time for change, and when would another opportunity like this occur again?

The paperwork was quickly finalized and they packed their belongings. By year’s end, they were settled into their new home in Tokyo. Koshijiro had commissioned renovations and additions, and though the house was larger than needed for a family of three, he and Kyoko discussed accepting boarders to pay off the debt. But the bathhouse was worth it, to the delight of Kyoko and Kaoru, and he liked his dojo very much. The wood smelled fresh and fragrant, and he pivoted in the open space. The light poured in, washing over his face. This was his school, the one he had yearned for all these years. A school of swordsmanship that would use the blade to protect, never to kill. A school that would represent a vow for the present and a wish for the future.

Kamiya Kasshin. The living heart.

***

At first, he thought the Kamiya plot had moved, because there were only supposed to be three graves, for his parents and Kyoko. So the fourth had puzzled him for a moment, before he realized whose it was. Oh. Well, this was very strange, to see his own grave.

“Kenkaku Koshimichi Koki…?” He muttered. The Buddhist name he had been granted for the afterlife felt like it belonged to a different person entirely.

Fortunately, there weren’t many weeds. The ones that were present gave his right shoulder enough work. As he was finishing up, a kind couple offered to scrub down the headstones and light the incense. They made small talk, that they were newlyweds and he had married into her family. They refused any monetary payment, and with clasped hands, they were soon on their way. Alone, Koshijiro knelt.

“I’m a little early, but I thought these flowers would be nice. And sorry, that Kaoru isn’t here with me.” It would be nearly eighteen years ago, that she was born. “I’d rather celebrate her birthday when she’s home. We’ve missed out on that, the past two times.”

The wind ruffled his hair. It was getting longer, he needed a trim.

“I’ve been working on adjusting Kamiya Kasshin, for a one-handed variant. Not just for me, but for Yutaro and those in similar situations. It would also be good for anyone who’s been injured.” For that matter, injured people weren’t far from his mind. “Even though I’d like to be there, fighting with them.” He stood, brushed off his sore knees, and gave a last smile. “I’ll be back for Obon, with Kaoru and everyone else.”

***

After multiple appointments, Kyoko finally spoke the truth aloud. “I’m not going to live much longer, am I?”

Dr. Gensai slowly nodded. “Yes. I wish I could do something, anything.”

“You’ve done so much already, ever since we moved here last year.”

Kaoru worked her way under Kyoko’s arm, half-crawling into her lap. “Okaa-san.”

Koshijiro was barely listening, the world closing upon the clinic’s room. Nothing seemed real at that moment.

As the days passed, the neighborhood pitched in. His police colleagues covered extra shifts in his place, and their wives kept Kyoko company while he was working. He received plenty of groceries with a hand wave in regards to payment, which he never got used to. There was always something on the table for dinner. An acquaintance by some degrees, the apprentice of an artisan who had admired the work of Kamiya Keiichiro, offered to paint Kyoko’s picture, free of charge. The ink portrait was very somber, unlike his wife, but Kyoko appreciated the gesture. To Dr. Gensai and the rest of their visitors, she seemed accepting and strong.

However, when it was just the two of them, she was afraid of dying.

“I don’t want to go. I need to live, just a while longer, until Kaoru is a little older.” She sobbed, and it took all of Koshijiro’s willpower not to break down. He held her and didn’t speak, his throat burning.

Kaoru was on her best behavior, ensuring her mother was warm and had food. She braided both of their hair at night and chose Kyoko’s clothes in the morning. She read aloud, stumbling on a few unfamiliar words and making up for the little mistakes with her own interest in the novels.

Sometimes, his wife was too fatigued by the pain in her abdomen. Her hand shook when she drew her fingers through Kaoru’s ponytail. It was too easy for her to be out of breath. But she was focused on one task in particular, and he found her carefully writing when she was able.

“It’s our family book.” She showed him the familiar cover of the volume that told the stories of their pasts. She had been updating it over the years. “The next few pages are for Kaoru, for when she’s a young woman. I’ve already written your pages, for when you feel troubled.”

“Kyoko…”

“I only want you to be well. And I’m sorry.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes and gave a short laugh. “Oh no, not again.”

“No, Kyoko, don’t apologize.” He drew her trembling form into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve fought a harder battle than many ever will, and even now, you handle it with grace in front of Kaoru.”

“I don’t want her to worry about me, but I think she knows anyway. She’s a good girl, our daughter. She’ll be a lovely young lady someday.” Her tone was bittersweet with longing. “My kimonos have been set aside for her?”

“Yes, for when the time is right.”

“Mm. Hopefully, they won’t be too out of fashion.”

“They’ll suit Kaoru well. I saw the blue one with the cranes, the one you wore when we met.”

“That was almost twenty years ago, right? I still remember that day, I knew you were kind and honorable. I think I loved you from the moment I told you my name. I never expected to have this, any of this. But I’ve seen the cherry blossoms each year with you, my husband who I’m very proud of. Every day with you has been wonderful.”

“I haven’t been at my best every day. Most days, perhaps even half.”

She shook her head, mouth curving upwards. “No, really. Every day.” She brought her hand to the side of his face, and he leaned in to kiss her.

By autumn, she was in the hospital again. She was deteriorating fast, yet she held onto Koshijiro’s hand as the doctors came in and out. She was too weak to leave her bed, and he held back her hair when her nausea was too powerful to keep at bay. The worst was when she didn’t seem to recognize him or Kaoru, rapidly blinking at them when they greeted her. Her confusion was frightening, and he always ushered Kaoru out, saying that Okaa-san needed her rest. But she was sharp enough to notice.

“It’s so hard to see her like this. I wish I could do something!” She exclaimed, kicking a stray pebble in the road.

“I feel the same. I’d rather it be me in her place.”

“Otou-san, you shouldn’t be in the hospital either.” Kaoru corrected, slumping. “All of us should be home.”

He couldn’t argue, and he took her hand as they departed.

The weather chilled, the leaves bright with color. Flowers were in rare abundance, but they managed to procure an armful of pink dianthus. Kaoru strode into the hospital room, petals falling in her wake.

“Okaa-san, we’re here to visit!”

“Hello.” Her voice was barely audible but her expression was warm.

Koshijiro was relieved she was lucid. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“No, I just woke up. What time is it?”

He told her, as Kaoru arranged the bouquet by the window.

“Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” Tears welled up in her gaze. “You have such a good heart, Kaoru.” She swallowed hard, intent on making her words count. “You’ve been so helpful, so sweet and strong. I’ve told you as much as I can, but if it isn’t enough, know that you’re never alone. Listen to Otou-san, and remember that he wants what’s best for you. There’s always the book, if you need it.”

“I know where the book is. I just want you.” Kaoru quietly replied.

Kyoko was too overcome to speak, cupping Kaoru’s face. Koshijiro sat at her other side, wrapping his arm around her. They huddled close, their conversation meandering; what mattered most was that they were in the present together, for as long as it could last. Eventually, Kyoko’s breathing deepened and her eyes struggled to stay open.

“We’ll be back later.” Koshijiro promised, hesitantly extricating himself.

“See you soon, Okaa-san. Love you.” Kaoru kissed her cheek, and Kyoko gave a fragile smile.

“I love you too. I love you both so much.” Those were her last words, before she fell asleep.

By the following evening, she still hadn’t woken. A number of white-clad hospital staff filled her room, exchanging words that swept over his understanding until someone explained. Kyoko was comatose. He was going to send Kaoru home, but she stamped her foot and insisted on staying. One of the doctors offered a spare office for her to sleep in, while Koshijiro remained by Kyoko’s side. It would not be long before the end, he was warned but he would not budge. He wouldn’t let her go while she was alone.

Her weak pulse fluttered under his thumb, stopping for long seconds before picking up again. His dear, persistent Kyoko. He cupped her cheek and bent his head close, uncertain if she could hear him, but he whispered into her ear. “It’s alright, Kyoko. We don’t want you to be in pain. It’s alright.”

It was ultimately a blessing that Kyoko did not linger. Before midnight, she slipped away. Koshijiro pressed his lips to hers, in one last kiss. Then, he went to Kaoru.

She stirred awake when he touched her shoulder. “Otou-san?” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.

“She’s gone.”

“Can I see her?”

He could only nod, and he led her into the room. Kaoru climbed onto the hospital bed, and stifled her sobs into Kyoko’s neck. He held her cold hand, engraving the memory of her skin into his mind. They remained there until the very last minute.

***

The funeral was accompanied by a light rain. His arms were burdened with the container of Kyoko’s ashes, and his shoulders hunched unconsciously to protect what was left of his wife from the weather. Kaoru walked beside him, quiet and matching one of his paces with two of her own. The stoic procession marched to the cemetery, and Kyoko was buried in heavy silence.

Time passed by sluggishly. The house was too quiet, and he resorted to kenjutsu, to an escape. If he kept his body occupied and moving, he would not have to think about how empty he felt.

“Otou-san?”

The timid question stopped him mid-step, and he turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway.

“Um. I tried to make lunch. Do you want to eat yet? Because you didn’t have breakfast…”

His gut reaction was to decline, he had probably lost his appetite forever. But he stared at his daughter’s round eyes, the quiver in her chin as she waited for his answer.

No. I can’t give up, I’m all Kaoru has now, and so, I must keep up my strength.

“Alright. Let’s have lunch.”

The onigiri were misshapen, lopsided triangles. There was probably a little too much salt, but to his fatigued body, the flavor wasn’t bad. The rice was definitely undercooked though, and the only sound in the room was the crunch of grains between teeth.

Then, there was a sniffle. Koshijiro lifted his head, to see Kaoru frowning and wiping away tears, even as she chewed. “Sorry.” She warbled. “It doesn’t taste good.”

“Kaoru…” He reached over the table, to awkwardly pat her head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I’m your father, it’s my duty to provide for you. But I’ve been neglecting you. I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her sleeve across her face.

“Don’t worry about cooking anymore. I’ll hire a new housekeeper to take care of that. I’ll also open the rooms to boarders so we can pay off the rest of the debt. Soon, I’ll continue teaching.”

“Can I be a student again?”

“Yes. The position of head student will always be yours, until you can teach with me.”

“And then?”

“And then, you’ll be assistant instructor. After that, head instructor. The dojo will be yours, and I’ll write it down so no one can take that away from you.”

Kaoru nodded. “Otou-san?”

“Hm?”

“Can I talk about Okaa-san?”

“Your mother loved stories. I think she’d like nothing more than for you to tell stories about her.”

She slowly nodded. “Will you?”

“Perhaps not right away. But even if I don’t speak, she’s always here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And here.” He pointed to the same spot on his daughter, and she laid her fingers upon it in understanding.

“Okay. I can talk about her for both of us.”

He didn’t respond, but he patted her head again and they continued on.

It was not easy, raising a daughter alone. As much as Kaoru looked like his dear wife, she had inherited her temper from him. They did argue, over trivial matters in hindsight, but such discussions usually ended in Kaoru slamming the door to her room and for him to thumb through his designated pages in Kyoko’s book, rereading her overarching message of love and patience. He would not repeat the mistakes of his youth, and he would knock on her door, requesting that they talk. Thankfully, her anger usually blew over quickly and he made it a point to apologize to each other.

Kamiya Kasshin was ultimately a family project. Kaoru was the first student to try the new techniques, and from observing her as well, Koshijiro made necessary changes and adjustments. His daughter was a natural at kenjutsu, and she freely challenged him.

“Wouldn’t another step work for this kata? I feel like I need to get my balance back from the last turn.”

“That’s fine, but you might run into trouble if you’re in a tight space.”

“Well, that just means it’s more important to rebalance.”

“It seems the turn’s causing the issue. What if we move it up, earlier in the sequence?”

“Yeah, that could work too!”

He did hire a housekeeper, but the middle-aged woman was far stricter than her initial interview conveyed. She heavily disapproved of Kaoru’s love for swordsmanship, insisting that she rise before dawn and sleep late, to complete extra household tasks. But Kaoru was unhappier every day, and it came to a head when the housekeeper mentioned the dreaded word of “marriage”. Kaoru was late for practice and he was searching for her, overhearing the raised voices in the kitchen.

“Why would I care about some husband I haven’t even met yet?” Kaoru exploded. “I’m me and I should be loved for who I am, not because I’m ladylike enough!”

“Your education should have started when you were much younger. Now, I fear it’s too late to salvage.” She glanced over at Koshijiro, striding towards them. “Ah, here’s your father.” If she was expecting him to defend her viewpoint, he was glad to disappoint her.

“I need her in the dojo. Don’t delay her and for that matter, we will not speak of marrying her off. Kaoru is only ten.” He firmly stated. “End of discussion.”

“You spoil her far too much. If she were my daughter, she’d be a proper girl and run the house on her own. I’m not sure what your wife did-”

“And that is where you stop, because she’s not your child, she’s mine.” He coldly dismissed her. “Pack your things and I’ll give you your pay for the week. We have no more need of your services.”

She huffed and gave them nasty looks but didn’t say another word. Before noon, the gate soundly shut behind her.

“Well…that probably went as well as it could.” He said at last.

Kaoru laughed. “I thought it was great. Thank you, Otou-san.” She hugged him and he patted her head. Then, she pouted. “Does this mean we need to find someone new?”

“We can wait a while.” Soon after, they met Sekihara Tae, whose friendship was much appreciated.

When Kaoru was twelve, they had the pleasant surprise of a visitor. Kikuhara was traveling through, and he was interested in the school Koshijiro had described in a New Year’s card. He joined the class as an observer, then to help with basic forms. He began to follow along with the students, and he caught on quickly. After a month, he held his own in sparring against Koshijiro. Kaoru called the close match in Koshijiro’s favor, but they were happy with the outcome.

Kikuhara’s objective seemed to be complete too. He opened a pocket watch and examined the inside. “It’s time for me to go. I have someone to return to now.” With a smile, he turned the watch around to show Koshijiro a photograph of a young girl, no older than five. “My daughter, Midori.”

“A daughter? You…married?”

“No.” Kikuhara paused. “I haven’t told anyone else this, but she’s the illegitimate child of my lord. I was tasked to care for her, but the moment she was placed in my arms, I knew she was as good as my own. She’s very frail though, and she isn’t interested in kenjutsu, unlike your Kaoru. But she’s kindhearted, like her real father.”

“With no offense to your lord, you are her father now and I’m sure she misses you.” Koshijiro pointed out without malice. “If you need any advice on raising her, please let me know.”

“I’ll remember, senpai.” He joked. “I will be sure to bother you about teaching as well. I like some of the kata from Kamiya Kasshin, and its message is honorable. I’m interested in sharing it in Echigo, alongside my own family’s tradition. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“And I’ll call it…Kasshin Shintoryu Kikuhara?”

“Please don’t, you can just keep your family’s name for the school.” He was embarrassed.

“No, it’s a good name, and I’ll be happy to teach under its sign.” At the end of his stay, they saw him off with waves and promises of a future reunion, when Midori was older.

Years passed. He filled a book with the knowledge of Kamiya Kasshin, leaving it in the altar alongside Kyoko’s volume. Kaoru was promoted to assistant instructor after demonstrating mastery in the last kata, and she taught the youngest students while he focused on the older ones. They made a good team. The dojo was raucous with clashing bokken and conversation, and for some time, life was uneventful.

***

That changed when Kumamoto Castle was taken by the Satsuma army. Before the week’s end, the draft letter arrived, summoning Koshijiro to the warfront once more. He was standing frozen in the front yard and numbly rereading the notice, thinking of how he could hide it before he had a proper chance to speak to Kaoru, when she called out.

“Otou-san, what’s taking you so long?” Too late, her gaze landed on the official stamp on the envelope, and she immediately blanched. “Otou-san?”

“I’m sorry, Kaoru.”

“Why are you apologizing?!” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not like you chose to go.”

“In a way, I did when I joined the police.”

“Otou-san, don’t say that. I know you don’t really think so.” She touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m more worried about you. You’ll be alone.”

“No, I won’t. I have the students, and Tae’s in town. And I can always bring on more boarders.” At his distasteful expression, she scowled. “Don’t say anything about protecting me, because I can defend myself. You know I can!”

“I’m only telling you to be cautious.”

“I am.” She grumbled.

He excused himself, to find two items. One was his tanto, and the other was his father’s. He handed the sheathed blades to her. “Keep one under your pillow, and the other in the secret compartment in the bathhouse.”

“Otou-san.”

“Remember to lock your room every night.”

“Otou-san, I’ll remember. But how are you coping? You��re being called back to war, you’ll have to…” Kill people again. The unspoken words hung in the air.

“I don’t look forward to it, but I will do my best to avoid a worst case scenario. With Kamiya Kasshin, I can disarm as many as I can.”

At that, she lit up. “So, we should train as much as possible. And I want to master the succession techniques before you go!”

That was a good idea. After lessons, they practice sparred, and Koshijiro pinpointed where she needed to improve. Not that there was much, but he wanted to teach her everything he could before leaving. The last afternoon eventually came; Kaoru focused solely on Hadome and Hawatari. She was on the verge of breaking through, and she recognized as much.

“I almost had it! And I knew where I went wrong too! One more time, Otou-san?”

“No, you’re tired. It’s already been over two hours, and I can tell you’re too exhausted to proceed any further today. We should stop here.”

She groaned, slumping. “But I wanted to master them before you left, so you can see.”

“Mastering these techniques shouldn’t be rushed, especially for my sake. You are close. So, not yet, but you’re getting better every time.” He wouldn’t be here to watch her progress though, after this day.

She must have thought so too, for she set her bokken aside and fiercely hugged him. He squeezed her back, hoping it could convey all of what he couldn’t say aloud.

The morning of departure was somber. Kaoru made breakfast, which he ate without complaint. He donned his uniform and hated that his daughter looked so sad when she saw him. However, she didn’t mention it, only asking if he had everything he needed. She trailed him past the front door, the frosted grass crackling under their footsteps.

“I’ll see you soon, Otou-san.” She said, decidedly using the temporary farewell.

“Yes. Protect the school while I’m gone, and go back inside, before you catch a cold. I’ll see you soon, Kaoru.” He clasped her shoulder, hoping to give some strength to her. Then, with great reluctance, he let go and walked alone. He closed the gate behind him, waited until Kaoru locked it again, and headed into town to join his regiment.

The journey to Satsuma was taxing, as they sailed towards Kyushu. He wasn’t as young as many of the other men, and when they camped on the southern island, he fell asleep once his head touched his pillow. The nightmares trickled back, becoming more convoluted every night. The return to the battlefield was dreaded by the other policemen, especially since they were only given wooden batons and swords. He couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved by the lack of a gun. He struck at shoulders, feet, anywhere that wasn’t lethal.

Months passed, as Saigo Takamori’s defeat forced him to flee and the Imperial army followed suit. The minor skirmishes with Saigo’s men culminated into a pincer attack on the Satsuma rebels. Koshijiro gritted his teeth and continued with striking through. To move forward, so this could be over as soon as possible. Suddenly, the line fell back, and he was perplexed for a moment, before the surrounding shouts alerted that there would be shelling. The order was to retreat, to gain as much distance for the explosions that would soon rock the battleground. Koshijiro didn’t even have to time to sheath his sword, the adrenaline humming under his skin, demanding to run as fast and far as he could. The men were tripping over each other and cursing, the fear and apprehension whittling their tempers.

A distant boom, then faint screams. Two steps later, it repeated, only closer. How much time did he have left? Koshijiro’s heart pounded out the tense seconds. A young soldier, barely older than Kaoru, stumbled to his right. Koshijiro switched his katana to his left hand and grabbed the boy’s collar. Using the momentum of his own body, he thrust the boy in front. “Take cover!” He bellowed.

Sound. It deafened him.

Force. His left arm, still outstretched behind him, twisted.

Heat. It seemed to split his skin open.

Pain. And that was enough for his eyes to roll back.

Forgive me, Kaoru-

***

He woke up, and he could hardly draw breath. He blinked. He had his sight. He was on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. The clamor of groaning men filled his ears. The smells of urine and blood were strong, and he didn’t dare open his dry mouth. He was in a hospital, a crowded one at that. For how long, he didn’t know.

I’m Kamiya Koshijiro, forty-five years old. I have a daughter, Kaoru, who is seventeen. We live in Tokyo. I work with the Tokyo Metropolitan police. I teach Kamiya Kasshin, the sword that protects.

There, his memory was intact. Although when he tried to remember what happened after the explosion, he couldn’t recall anything after the storm of sensation. He must have fainted. He twitched his fingers, his toes. No pain. He turned his head right. Well, his neck wasn’t broken, just stiff. Against his pillow, there was soft friction; the back of his head was bandaged. His right forearm bore the healing crust of a scrape, and he deduced he must have fallen on that side. But he could move his wrist and elbow joints, so there were no fractures. He checked the left-

Immediately, he jerked his head away. Shock kicked in. He didn’t have an arm. His left arm was gone. There was just wrapped white cloth, encasing the end of his shoulder. Then, why could he still feel it, down to the fingertips? He looked again, to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

He stared and stared and stared. He didn’t have an arm.

Distantly, he heard a nurse call out that he was awake, and footsteps approached. A doctor introduced himself before asking identifying questions. Koshijiro’s voice was raspy from disuse but he demonstrated he knew who he was. The doctor provided new details.

Koshijiro was in a hospital close to one of the harbors in Satsuma. A week had passed. The Imperial army was fighting on, with the last of the rebel forces weakened. Most of the province was back in the Emperor’s control and it would be a matter of weeks before Saigo surrendered. Reportedly, Koshijiro was found on the battlefield, alone and unconscious. When he was moved here, he had convulsed to reality and blood loss brought him under again.

Overall, he was in rough shape. The explosion had singed some of his hair off, and his skull had to be partially shaved. He had superficial burns on his back, that worsened on his left side. His right knee was swollen and abraded, and part of his big toenail was torn. His body bore minor cuts and bruises from landing. And he no longer had a left arm. The doctor actually had to remove more bone and tissue because what remained after the blast was not clean. But it was free from shrapnel and they could only do their best to prevent gangrene.

He was warned that there would be pain, that his body would not properly recognize that his left arm was gone. Multiple medicines were given to him, and his mouth gained a perpetual bitter taste. He slept in fits throughout his stay. All around him, other men were dying. He always noticed when another body was carried out.

A week passed, but he wasn’t quite healing. He forced himself to look at the dressings as they were changed, and they didn’t seem promising. He bitterly thought he couldn’t recover as well as he could in this place, but he had no say here. And then, one morning, he felt lethargic and his stomach sank in realization. A small part of him clung to hope that it would pass soon, but he forgot it as he became more and more delirious.

The hospital staff was saying he was feverish, and he groggily understood it was bad, because he felt so cold. Sleep was tempting. There was more medicine, more people hovering over him. He felt numb, it would be very easy to sleep forever. Too weak to struggle, his eyes closed.

He did not expect to dream.

He was sitting on the porch, the moon abnormally large and bright above. A quiet warm summer’s night. And he couldn’t see her, but he could feel Kyoko’s presence, as if she was standing behind him.

You’re so close.

I know. But not yet, Kyoko. I made a promise to you, didn’t I?

It was as if she was laughing, her breath warm against his neck. Then, please go home.

Yes. He couldn’t possibly disobey and he was swallowed once more by the void.

When he woke, his fever had broken. To the doctors’ surprise and awe, he had overcome the infection. He didn’t feel like it was miraculous at all; he had made promises and he intended to keep them. Once he heard his wounds were healed, he declared. “I’m leaving.” The response was dismissive, until he tried to leave his bed. He’d had enough of being in the hospital, he argued, and he’d heal more if he wasn’t restrained. That only sent him to another facility, with others in slightly better condition. From so much time on bedrest, he was frustratingly weak, and his legs shook underneath him when he attempted to walk around. But he pushed on, easily recalling a blue-clad figure with braids in her family’s yard, and conjuring a younger one, years later, who must be teaching in the dojo. Even if he no longer had one arm, he still had the other, his legs, and his head. That was good enough to get by. By the time he was discharged, the war had ended with Saigo’s suicide. His return home was overdue but winter’s approach undercut his pace. He was trying desperately not to get sick again.

The initial leg was frustratingly slow. He had no money, and any innkeeper dismissed his offer of labor. One benefit about his amputation was that it was noticeable, and kind strangers would grant him a night or two in a stable or on a fishing boat. But most people tended to avoid his gaze, so he did his best to keep moving. The new phantom pains were excruciating, his ghostly arm wrenching as it had in its final moments. Those incapacitating occasions, as well as his poor physical shape, forced him to rest often, to his chagrin.

He took one such break, on the wayside of a market street. He had managed to buy passage back to Honshu, though it meant he had to agree to a slight detour, since the port was not close to the main roads he recognized. This town was bustling with naval activity, thanks to the iron ships anchored in the dark water. The marine air was soothing, and the latest episode of pain ebbed with each deep breath.

“Ojii-san, where did your arm go?”

He startled, and in his periphery, a little boy stared at him with round eyes. There was a flood of emotion, but his most prominent thought was: I can’t tell this child it was blown off! “Well…” He searched for an appropriate thing to say. “I traded it.”

“For what?”

“So I could go home.”

A woman in her early thirties approached, holding the hand of a slightly older boy. “Sadatake! Oh, I’m so sorry.” The mother was so mortified, bowing her head multiple times. Her obi rested low, under the modest curve of her belly. “Sadatake, apologize to this uncle.”

“Sorry.”

“Please, don’t concern yourselves over it.”

She searched his face for a moment. “You look like you could use some rest and good food. Why don’t you come to our place? My husband wouldn’t mind at all.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“No, I insist.” She pressed her palm on her rounded abdomen and smiled beatifically. The underlying message was not to upset her. “And my husband’s heading this way right now.” She directed her gaze over his shoulder, and he pivoted.

What he saw stunned him.

The man had plenty of silver in his hair, and his right leg dragged with each step, though the sleeping toddler draped over his shoulder didn’t help. Those fox eyes had regained their spark and framed by creases, they widened in recognition. “Kamiya? Kamiya Koshijiro?”

“Hayashi.” He shook his head at the incredulity of the moment, and he gestured to the site of his recent loss. “After all this time, I would certainly like to talk to you.”

The family led the way to a modest house, near Hayashi’s workplace at a naval office. The boys were young, having turned three, five, and seven, and they had just finished celebrating the milestone thrice over. Hayashi was a long way off from his former devastated self. Koshijiro felt a mixture of relief and sympathy as he watched his friend mind the little ones’ table manners at dinner.

“Sadakazu, here, move your cup away so you won’t spill it. Sadanori, wipe your mouth.” Even as he was speaking, he was already carrying out the actions, inspecting his youngest’s face one last time to ensure it was thoroughly clean. Hayashi’s wife fondly watched the spectacle, as Sadatake ate beside her.

The comfort of having a meal at a full table was a balm to Koshijiro’s weary spirit. After the dishes were cleared and the boys were sent to bed, despite their loud protests, Hayashi poured out two cups of warm sake. Koshijiro inhaled the fragrance, appreciating the liquor.

“Been saving up this bottle for a while, and I’m glad I did. I haven’t had the chance to drink in a while either.”

He took a sip. Just hot enough and very good indeed. “I didn’t know you’d become a family man.”

“I didn’t really expect to be one.” Hayashi admitted. “During the Bakumatsu, I was here, watching the troops travel past and trying not to feel useless. But Akie’s family clan sided with the Satcho alliance, and that’s how we met. There wasn’t much of a ceremony, because we married against her family’s wishes. I don’t blame them; I can still hardly believe she’d pick me. But before I could scare her off, the boys came along. Now it’s twins, so I hope at least one of them can convince the rest to be calm and kind to their old father.”

Koshijiro laughed. It was the first time in months, he realized, that he had. “You’ll miss some of it when they’re this young.”

“You have a family, don’t you? A daughter?”

“Yes, Kaoru is in Tokyo. Kyoko passed away, seven years ago.”

Hayashi’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. But you made her happy, anyone could see that. ”

Koshijiro chose not to reply, instead drinking from his cup.

“How old is your daughter now?”

“She’s seventeen.” He had missed her birthday. Discomfort spread through him.

“Damn, you’ll probably be marrying her off before the twins arrive.”

“Kaoru’s still young.”

“I was married to my first wife when I was younger than that.” Hayashi countered. “And it’s been months since you’ve been gone.”

Koshijiro frowned. “I need to return.”

“Ah, you haven’t changed much at all.” His friend grinned. “Maekawa’s in Tokyo too, right? Well, don’t tell him or anyone else yet that I’m here. I will, when I’m ready. Probably after Akie delivers.”

“I think they’d be glad to know you’re living well, but I understand.” The last of the alcohol was drained, and Hayashi thumped his back before urging him to retire. That night, he slept comfortably.

Before dawn broke, he intended to leave quietly, not to bother them anymore and to get a head start on his day. But he wasn’t as quiet as he hoped, for rustling noises carried over into the hallway. He tried to quicken his pace, but a door slid open.

“Gotcha.”

His sighed. “Good morning, Hayashi. And Akie-san.” The couple walked towards him with intent, Hayashi’s hand in his robe.

His friend clicked his tongue. “Good morning indeed. Were you trying to sneak away? How foolish, Kamiya. My wife’s hearing is not to be underestimated. Especially since we want to give you this.” He pushed a cloth bag into Koshijiro’s hand, the hefty weight studded with the metal ridges of the coins within.

“I can’t possibly accept. Please, keep this for your children.”

“They have plenty already. You, on the other hand, don’t have a naval secretary father, so take it.”

Akie added. “It’s a long road to Tokyo, especially when traveling alone. If you can find safety on a boat, a train, or even a cart, we’d be at ease knowing you have the means.” She then kept her voice low. “And I wanted to personally thank you. I know what you and your friends did for my husband, all those years ago, and it’s because of you that I have him. That I have my children and this life. I hope this is a fraction of what I owe you.”

His resistance crumbled. “…I promise not to squander it. In return, I hope you have a safe delivery.” He stepped out, to slip on his shoes.

Hayashi held his wife by the waist, to shield her from the morning chill, and raised his hand in farewell. “If you ever need anything else, let me know.”

“I will, and thank you. It was good to see you.” They bowed to one another, and he did not look back. His path was clear.

The days unfolded, one after another. At last, the surroundings became familiar, and every step took him towards the dojo, his school, and Kaoru.

***

In the first week of July, the Kyoto police informed them that Shishio and his followers had revealed themselves. Koshijiro was loath to miss an incoming message, and he remained at the station with the night shift, catching himself from nodding off until his sore neck forced him to trudge back to the empty house. The contingency plan was never far from his mind, even manifesting in his dreams. He was awake for good when the news came that Shishio’s ship was burning and falling to pieces off the shoreline. And then, there was another telegram within the hour.

“This one was specifically meant for you, Officer Kamiya.” The chief wryly said. “From your daughter.”

It was short but conveyed so much. WE WON. ALL SAFE.

If he was the type to dance, he could have danced all the way home. But he wasn’t, and ultimately, that meant he noticed that the lights were still on in Dr. Gensai’s clinic. When he knocked, Takani opened up, her eyes tired but offering a little smile when she recognized him. “Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, I have good news. The battle was won in Kyoto.�� He showed her the telegram with pride.

“Really?” She exhaled in relief. “I’m so thankful. But it must have been difficult. I would like to see if they need care…”

“Then, let’s go. We’ll leave with the first train in the morning.”

“Just like that?” Takani laughed. “Well, I won’t argue. I’ll tell Dr. Gensai and get my supplies. See you in a few hours.”

He could hardly wait.

#rurouni kenshin #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro #can you believe my version of koshijiro has returned before the hokkaido arc's

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 10

This took a while because I was planning ahead, there was Real Life Stuff, and it’s a long chapter. And still, it’s been tough. However, I owe it to my old self, to not give up writing and see what I’ve started to the end.

Everything’s under the cut now, and I changed the title literally at the last second. The rest of this story can be found on FF.net and AO3.  

Chapter 10: That Includes You

A few days after the revelation, the position of assistant chief inspector had been temporarily filled. Some of the younger officers had insisted that Koshijiro apply, but while he was flattered, he was comfortable in his current role. Instead, someone else was assigned, directly from the Department of Internal Affairs.

They exited the main building for the training yard, prepared to greet the new assistant chief inspector. The others were restless, and their conversation drifted to Koshijiro’s ears. “If he’s from the government, that means we can trust him, right?” Abe muttered under his breath.

Shinichi added. “I heard he has permission to carry a katana, even during the day. Isn’t that unusual?”

“It is, but perhaps, he still has a lingering attachment to the old ways.” Koshijiro spoke up. “If he was a samurai, it’s likely he also had police duties. For many of them, it was easiest to continue such work in the new era.”

“Does that include you?”

“Yes.”

The closest officer, Aoki, eagerly asked. “What was it like, on the battlefield? You fought for the Emperor twice, didn’t you?”

Koshijiro did not respond right away. It was easier to explain why he fought in Satsuma, because he had been conscripted and had no choice in the matter. It would take much longer, to tell the story of why he had chosen his side during the upheaval more than ten years ago. Instead, he mildly said. “War is nothing glamorous. Unlike many others, I am very fortunate to have returned home, alive.”

Aoki realized his mistake, his ears burning red. “O-of course!”

As they stepped onto the grass, Tanaka clouted him. “Idiot! You shouldn’t have reminded him!”

“It’s alright. Now, stand at attention.” Koshijiro told them and they joined the other officers, lined up in perfect rows. He straightened his posture, and didn’t have time to wonder how long they would wait, because Chief Uramura was suddenly walking out.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here. This is our new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro.” He ushered the man forward.

Fujita was a tall, lean man in his early thirties. It was true that he carried a katana, it was sheathed at his side. He smiled, but it didn’t seem natural, not reaching his eyes. With a gloved hand, he raised his hat in greeting. “Hello.”

The officers bowed in unison. “We look forward to working with you, sir!”

Koshijiro also bowed, a half second after the rest. He caught Fujita scanning over everyone, and literally so. The assistant chief inspector didn’t make eye contact, his gaze directed at the tops of their heads. It was a cool expression, as if he was loftily looking down from a high cliff.

“…yes.” Fujita said, and his voice was flat.

Koshijiro felt equally enthusiastic.

***

To his credit, Fujita was extremely efficient and performed his own patrols. The end result was the resolution of several cases and multiple arrests. Unfortunately, that also meant paperwork, and Koshijiro found that his workload had substantially increased. It certainly kept him busy, even at home.

One night, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Otou-san? Are you still awake?”

“Yes, come in.”

He turned around to meet Kaoru’s incredulous face, her eyes narrowed against the candlelight streaming from his desk. “Geez, you shouldn’t be. It’s past midnight!”

It was very late, his vision was starting to waver. But he had a deadline to meet, and he wouldn’t feel at ease if he gave up now. “I’ll sleep, after this report is finished. Did you need something?”

“…never mind. I just got up to get a drink of water, do you want one too?”

“No, but I’ll listen to what you really want to say.”

She seemed to deliberate, before kneeling, blowing out a breath, and admitting. “It’s about Kenshin. I noticed that he’s been acting off. Sometimes, he’ll slow down in whatever he’s doing and close his eyes. When I call out to him, it takes a minute for him to respond, like he fell asleep but so deeply in just a short time. The way he acts, it’s like…like when you came home, after fighting in the Bakumatsu.”

His memories of that time were fragmented, but tinged with regret. He was relieved to be home and with his family, but he had been withdrawn, too affected by what he had experienced and what he had done to survive. Alone with his thoughts, he could easily sink into reliving the sensations of war. “I see. I’ll also keep an eye on him, and it would only be appropriate if I speak to him once this occurs again. For now, there is something you can do.”

“What is it?”

“When I came home, your mother told you to talk to me, since she was too sick to leave her bed. You might not remember, but you did help. You pointed out when I was lethargic, when my attention was drifting during practice. Perhaps, that’s also what Himura-san needs at the moment, to be reminded that he has people who care for his well-being.”

“I think so too. You’re right, I’ll make sure Kenshin isn’t alone.”

It’s true that he needs support, but it can’t be just the two of them by themselves! He hastily added. “Include Yahiko, and Sagara-san, if you can.”

Kaoru looked affronted. “Well, of course, that was what I meant.” She stood once more, and stepped out into the hallway. “Anyway, thank you, Otou-san. And good night, so go to bed soon.”

“Alright, I will.” He gave a slight smile, and that was the end of their conversation. Then, he returned to his paperwork, and summoned the remainder of his energy. He felt only relief when at last, he blew out the candle.

The following morning, he woke to dim sunlight on his face. It was definitely later than usual, but it was the weekend. The others must have remembered and let him sleep in, because when he emerged from his room, his breakfast was waiting on the table. His hand was sore from strain, and he flexed his fingers, one by one, before picking up his chopsticks.

It had been a while, since he had eaten a meal alone. He could hear faint voices from the dojo, indicating that his daughter and Yahiko had begun lessons. However, it wasn’t the same as sitting with everyone in person. He carried his dishes to the kitchen and headed for the porch.

The fresh air was pleasant, and the maple tree had new green leaves. From the doorway, he could hear Kaoru, telling Yahiko that he had performed the last kata well, but that he needed to be less hasty. And Himura was in the yard, hanging blankets on the clothesline.

“Good morning, Himura-san.” Koshijiro called out to him.

He startled, turning around. “Kamiya-san…good morning. This one assumes that you’ve finished eating?”

“Yes, I have.” He sat on the edge of the porch. “A good meal is always appreciated. Kaoru and Yahiko can also attest to that. You’ve been here three months, after all.” He cleared his throat…and he didn’t know what else to say.

Whenever he talked with Himura alone, the conversation usually revolved around three subjects: Kaoru, Yahiko, and the weather. He wasn’t keen on bringing up their shared war experiences, and most likely, Himura wasn’t eager to share either. However…he had to plant the idea that Himura could speak to any of them, if his memories resurfaced while Koshijiro was at the station.

“I suppose I should say ‘thank you’. You may be a boarder in name, but no other boarder has treated this house like a home.” At that, Himura blinked, and Koshijiro continued. “It’s why Kaoru trusts you and Yahiko respects you. You’re important to them, as I’m sure they are to you, and that closeness is what makes a good meal enjoyable.”

Himura didn’t respond right away. He looked deep in thought, and finally, he said. “This one has cherished his time in this dojo. Kaoru-dono, Yahiko, and Sano, as well as you and Megumi-dono, have made every day enjoyable. This one wonders if it is selfish of this one, to accept such kindness.”

Koshijiro recognized that feeling: a lingering guilt, born from the sacrifices of other people. It wasn’t surprising that such a feeling was intensified in Himura, and overcoming it was a gradual, difficult process. And that was often without progress. “It takes time to heal, but I hope you remember that we will not go anywhere, if you need us.” He could only say that, and Himura silently inclined his head.

After a pause, Koshijiro rose to his feet. “Now, I need to return to my paperwork. Please let me know, if there’s anything of note.” He stiffly nodded and left, without looking back.

If he had to be honest, he felt awkward the entire time. The weather really was a better topic than emotions.

***

The following Monday, they received a letter from Maekawa, and it was read aloud over breakfast. He was healing, but he had not recovered his full strength yet and was requesting for Kaoru to help his students later in the week.

Kaoru refolded the paper, nodding. “I’d like to see them too. Yahiko, Kenshin, you’re coming with me.”

“We are?” Yahiko griped.

“Oro? This one as well?”

“Of course, it’d be fun. But if you’d rather be alone, I won’t stop you.”

Himura paused for a moment. “No, this one will go with you.”

“Really? Thank you!” She beamed, and her happiness was infectious, for he returned her smile. Then, Kaoru turned to Koshijiro. “Sorry, Otou-san, I know you have work.”

“It can’t be helped, with the number of cases. Please, greet everyone there for me.”

On the day of, he almost believed he could join them, but the previous evening’s arrests quashed that possibility. It was close to sunset, when the last report had been filed and the rookie officers gave a collective cheer. Koshijiro didn’t have the voice to celebrate. As he was leaving, he nearly bumped into Fujita and pivoted away at the last second. “Excuse me.”

“Not a problem.” The assistant chief inspector gave a thin smile in response.

“If I may ask, what happened to your shikomizue?” Chief Uramura had prepared a sword, concealed as a cane, for Fujita to use in place of the katana. However, it was not on his back.

“Ah, the handle had splintered, so I sent it off to be fixed.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“I assure you, I’m not disappointed. I prefer true Japanese swords.” His smile widened. “But I know that you disagree. You believe the sword can protect life. It’s a poisonous way of thinking, you could never deliver justice with that mindset.”

“That’s your opinion.” Koshijiro shortly replied. His right palm stung, and he realized he was clenching a fist, his fingernails embedded in his skin. “And as long as neither of our opinions interfere with police work, it’s unnecessary to have a debate.”

He walked away, heading for home. He was weary, his neck and shoulder ached, and he needed to rest for a while. It was stress, he recognized as much, and a break was the only cure.

Quietly, Koshijiro let himself through the gate, pushing it closed with his foot. Light shone from within the house, and the intensity made him blink. How many candles were they using? With his brow furrowed, he removed his shoes and announced. “I’m home.”

There was no answer at first, before Yahiko emerged from the kitchen, carrying a basin of water. He must have been using all of his effort not to spill a drop, for his greeting was more of an exhaled huff. “Hey, Kamiya-san.”

He stepped out of the boy’s way. “What’s going on?”

“Sano was attacked; we just found him lying in the dojo, bleeding.”

Takani’s voice suddenly called out from the hallway. “Yahiko! I need that water!”

“Megumi ran into us earlier, so she’s treating him now. Come on, do you want to see him?”

“Yes, I do.”

He followed Yahiko, to the guest room. The first thing he noticed was Sagara’s jacket, bloody and crumpled and tossed aside near the wall. Sagara himself was lying motionless on a blanket, and Takani was leaning over his right shoulder, where the wound likely was. It was very warm and bright, yet Kaoru was lighting another candle.

“Is that better?”

“For now, yes.” Takani said. “Ah, Yahiko, is that you? Bring the water over here.”

“Okay.” He seemed to be at his limit, and released a loud sigh when he set the basin down.

Koshijiro chose that moment to speak. “Should Sagara-san be taken to the hospital?”

“Otou-san?” Kaoru looked up at him. “No, Kenshin said not to, because we don’t know who attacked him. It’s better if he doesn’t leave our sight.”

“And I’m capable of treating him.” Takani added. “The wound looks clean, and keeping it that way is best done outside of a hospital. That is, if you don’t mind having him here.”

“No, it’s not a problem.” Koshijiro nodded at Sagara. “Please, take care of him.”

“I’ll do my best.” Her face was very grave, and they quietly exited the room.

Kaoru kept walking towards the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “I’ll make dinner, we all need to eat.”

“Are you sure?” Yahiko’s forehead creased, as he ran after her. “I can ask Kenshin…ow!”

She had grabbed his ear. “No, we should leave him alone right now. And what’s wrong with my cooking?”

“Well, it hasn’t gotten any better!”

“Then, you can help.” Koshijiro suggested, to his chagrin.

Ochazuke was the quickest option. After they brought the steaming teapot and bowls of leftover rice to the table, he finally ventured. “Where is Himura-san?”

“He’s in the dojo, but…” For a moment, there was only the sound of pouring green tea, as Kaoru swallowed to regain her voice. “At Maekawa-sensei’s place, he was alright, but when we were about to leave, he was listless again. He talked about the past, more than I’ve ever heard before.”

“Yeah, he fought the Shinsengumi.” Yahiko popped a stolen clump of rice into his mouth. “It sounds like he really respected them.”

“I’m glad that he opened up to us, but since we came home and found Sano, he’s been thinking about something. He looks so serious. I should check on him again, in case he’s hungry.” She quickly excused herself. Yahiko set aside a bowl for Takani, and the steam rose in faint wisps.

At length, Koshijiro asked. “Do you think Himura-san is fine?”

“I don’t know.” Yahiko shrugged. “But when I saw him, he was looking at the medicine box and the hole in the wall.”

“Hole in the wall?”

“Er…yeah, the dojo got busted again.”

“This is the third time in as many months.”

“Uh-huh.”

Koshijiro sighed. The carpenter was going to be very pleased. “And what’s this about a medicine box?”

“It was in the dojo, and Kenshin said not to touch it, although he was staring at the emblem.” Yahiko drew it in the air with one finger, a circle with a hat-like symbol above it. “Do you know what it means?”

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like any of the family crests I’m aware of, but I can look into it.”

“It’s a good thing that you work with the police, huh?”

Then, Kaoru entered, Himura in her wake. “Don’t worry about the wall, we’ll have it repaired soon. Anyway, we have ochazuke.”

Himura’s expression was taut, as he took a seat at the table. He wrapped his hands around the warm bowl before him; he hadn’t made a sound the entire time. Abruptly, his eyes widened in realization of his surroundings. “This one-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Kaoru firmly said. “It’s been a long day for all of us. You’re only human, Kenshin, so don’t feel sorry, okay? Now, let’s eat.”

“…yes.”

They ate in silence, until Takani emerged two hours later, exhausted but satisfied that Sagara’s wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. She didn’t even mind the cold tea and rice, and between mouthfuls, she brought up the idea of watching over Sagara in shifts, until he was conscious.

Koshijiro’s turn was just after midnight. Sagara had been given a blanket, and it was pulled up to his chin. The beginning of a bruise was darkening on his jaw. Each breath was shallow, almost uncertain. Sagara had extensive fighting experience; who would be formidable enough to catch him off guard and overpower him?

Furthermore, how did they know to find him here?

He did not like the implications.

***

After three days, Sagara was still out of commission. This morning, he was awake long enough to accept water and medicine, but he fell asleep before Koshijiro had the chance to question him.

“Well, sleep is good for recovery.” Takani appeared to be nonplussed, yet her eyes remained concerned and she fiddled with her chopsticks. “Meanwhile, let’s continue to watch him at night.”

However, Koshijiro hoped it wouldn’t be for much longer. He had told Yahiko he would look into the medicine box’s emblem, but Fujita had suddenly increased his paperwork, enough to keep him occupied throughout working hours.

He finished his breakfast, preparing to leave for the station when his daughter said. “Otou-san, if you wait five more minutes, I can prepare a bento box.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I plan to be home for lunch.”

He hadn’t done so for some time, and her face lit up. “Really? Okay then, see you later.”

Himura added. “And please, lock the gate behind you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Of course. Is there a reason for the reminder?”

“This one believes the person who attacked Sano will return. He would be tall, and dressed like a medicine peddler. He might also smell of alcohol too; that is, if he has not changed in the past ten years…” He trailed off.

“You’re thinking of someone in particular?”

“Only a possibility.” He hesitated. “This one is not even sure if he is still alive.”

Koshijiro mulled it over. “Still, I’ll lock the gate, to be safe. I’ll also stop by the Akabeko, to notify Yahiko.” He had left earlier, to assist at the restaurant for the morning.

The boy was sweeping the road in front, and Koshijiro paused to mention the locking of the gate. In response, he curtly nodded. “Got it.” Then, he smacked his own forehead in dismay. “Crap, I have to get more charcoal, Tae’s gonna kill me. See ya, Kamiya-san!” He was off again before Koshijiro could say another word. Regardless, he also needed to arrive at his workplace, and without sparing another glance, he continued on his path.

At the station, Fujita was waiting for him, a cigarette between his teeth. “It’s busy for you today, Kamiya.” He dropped a thick stack of reports, ready to be filed, onto Koshijiro’s desk. “These take priority, and I expect them to be finished as soon as possible.”

He tried to maintain a neutral expression. Before the loss of his arm, he had never been this busy. To be fair, it was because field work had different demands. He was grateful to be involved in administrative duties, but…he still wanted to sit down and eat with his family.

…Family?

Before he could dissect why that specific word had surfaced in his mind, Fujita continued. “Do you have a problem with that, Kamiya?”

He snapped back to attention. “No. I’ll have them completed.”

“Good.” Smoke billowed out of the side of his mouth, and the smell of tobacco lingered after he strolled out.

After that, Koshijiro lost track of time, solely focusing on each report. The minutes bled into hours, until a shadow cast over his desk. He lifted his eyes, to see his officers grimacing at the tower of remaining papers.

“Are you okay with this, Kamiya-san?”

“Of course he’s not, look at how his hand is shaking.”

“Fujita’s an asshole.”

“It must be harassment. Kamiya-san, can’t you give us a report or two?”

It must have been the lack of sleep getting to him, because he relented. “Each of you may take one. Go ahead.”

Hands scrambled, and after the fray subsided, the pile was significantly smaller. He could spare time for lunch at home and complete the rest afterwards. Fujita left to patrol at noon, so he definitely wouldn’t protest if Koshijiro left at half past one o’clock. Nevertheless, he still walked carefully, just in case the assistant chief inspector had changed his normal routine and was lurking outside the station.

The familiar gate soon towered above him, and he noticed it was unlocked as he stepped through. He locked it again, knitting his eyebrows. Had an intruder entered? He didn’t have a weapon on him, so instead, he made his way to the dojo. As he drew closer, he heard his daughter’s voice.

“Alright then, but there’s water and tea if you’re thirsty.” Then, she suddenly appeared, emerging from the dojo. She glanced up. “Ack! Otou-san, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I was concerned, because the gate was unlocked.”

“Is it? That’s my fault.” Her smile was strained and he knew something was wrong. “But your coworker’s here, to help keep us safe. He was patrolling nearby, and he offered to keep watch.”

“That’s a kind offer, but he should maintain his post. I’ll speak to him.” He opened the sliding door, to see a figure sitting on the floor. A figure he hadn’t expected to see.

“Officer Kamiya?” Fujita also blinked in surprise, before giving that unsettling, unnatural smile again. “Finished those reports already?”

“I’m taking a break for lunch. I assumed you were as well, but there are no soba shops around here.”

The smile tightened. “I was telling your daughter that a dangerous gang is looking for your boarder, Himura-san. I’ll stand guard until he safely returns.”

“I wasn’t aware he was in trouble.” Koshijiro slowly said. “Regardless, thank you but I believe we’ll be fine.”

“With two women, one child, and an unconscious person? Not to mention, you only have one arm.”

It was the first time his disability had been referred to so disparagingly, and Koshijiro decided he hated Fujita’s guts. He clenched his hand into a fist.

Kaoru spoke up, her voice calm. “Fujita-san, we don’t want to disrupt your work. Once Kenshin returns, you’re free to go. That’s all. Now, Otou-san, you can have lunch. Yahiko and I already ate, so I sent him to get more tofu. Maybe, Kenshin will be with him too.” She steered him away, whispering. “I don’t like him either, but he’s your boss, right? We probably shouldn’t make him mad.”

“I feel as if I already have, with the amount of work he’s given me.” He sighed.

“Well, food will cheer you up. It’s good, Kenshin cooked it before he left on an errand.”

“What errand?”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Yahiko said he received a letter, but it’s not from a woman. It can’t be, so just forget it, we’ll ask when he comes home. I’ll wait by the gate, so I can let them in.” She stomped off, leaving Koshijiro to enter the house alone.

Takani was eating, and she acknowledged him with a curt nod. He sat down at his place, where miso, grilled fish, and pickled vegetables awaited. After murmuring thanks, he inquired. “How is Sagara?”

She shrugged. “Asleep again. The next time he wakes up, it had better be for more than ten minutes or I’ll bury him myself.” She was clearly worn out.

“Please, don’t push yourself.” He said. “There are plenty of blankets and pillows, if you’d like to rest for an hour.”

“I know.” She didn’t dismiss the idea, so it was likely that she would. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, before Takani excused herself to return to Sagara’s bedside.

“I’m back.” Yahiko brought in the full tofu bucket. His shoulders slumped a little at the sight of the empty kitchen. “Do you think the gang found Kenshin first?”

Koshijiro placed one hand on the table and stood. “If there is a gang, they would have divided their numbers. I would have expected some men to be here, if that were the case.”

“So is Fujita-san wrong?”

“I can only find out by questioning him. Meanwhile, you shouldn’t leave the house again.”

At the gravity of his tone, the boy gulped. “Yeah, got it. I’ll go to Sano’s room and, uh, read a book or something…” He hardly read, but Koshijiro felt a little reassured as he walked to the dojo.

It was obvious that Fujita had once been a swordsman. He was sitting on his heels, his posture straight and immobile, as he properly faced the front of the space. “I admit, you designed it well. There’s plenty of room to play.”

For his own sanity, Koshijiro ignored the jab. “You were cleared to carry your katana?”

“Fortunately, yes. It’s more suited to me than a sword-cane or a Western saber.” He smiled at the sheathed blade, and it was a strangely fond expression. “Only a Japanese sword can deliver justice.”

“And the law has deemed that the police cannot carry them. Regardless of that, I was thinking about the gang. Do we know who they are, and whether they have any history with Himura-san?”

“I assume it’s a small group, around ten men or fewer. That was indicated by a few vague letters, sent from different addresses and pieced together from newspaper cuttings. As for any history, who knows? There was a war ten years ago, many people have complaints.”

“Then, why are they so dangerous? Were the letters that threatening?”

“Enough to be concerning.”

“And if they’re genuine, why aren’t our officers making arrests?”

“I’ve visited the addresses, and the gang members appear to have moved. Instead of wasting time on a search, it would be vastly more efficient to lie in wait for them.” His voice was impatient. On edge. “Speaking of efficiency, don’t you have other responsibilities? Your break’s over. Return to the station.”

He was about to reply, when Kaoru approached. “Otou-san? Is it really safe for you to leave?”

He spoke carefully. “I didn’t encounter anyone on the way here, but if you would feel better if I stayed-”

Fujita interrupted. “If you thought I was making a request, you’re wrong. You have work to do.” Was it a trick of the light, or were his eyes more shadowed? More sinister?

“Otou-san-”

“It’s fine, Kaoru. Clearly, the assistant chief inspector believes he can handle this matter.” Also, there was one benefit to returning to work. He could search through Fujita’s desk for the letters. It wouldn’t be inappropriate; this matter concerned his home and the security of its residents. If he had to pay the consequences, so be it. He clasped his daughter’s shoulder, promising. “I’ll be home by sunset.”

She still looked troubled, but she exhaled. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

Reluctantly, he departed. The sky was covered with silver clouds, darkening to gray near the horizon. Whether there would be rain or not, it was difficult to tell.

Halfway down the road, he heard a voice call out. “Kamiya-san!” Koshijiro turned his head to see Officer Shinichi crossing the street in four strides. He had been running, he needed to catch his breath before managing to relay his message. “Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you. Chief Uramura is requesting that you return to the station immediately. There’s a visitor who wants to speak with you.”

Koshijiro frowned. “Who is it?”

“I wasn’t told, only that you need to go back as quickly as possible.”

“Then, the sooner we arrive, the sooner it will end.” He would have to check Fujita’s desk afterwards.

Shinichi led him to the chief’s office, but it was empty. “The chief must be with the visitor, I’ll try and find them. You can sit down.” With a hasty salute, he hurried off. Koshijiro occupied one of the plush Western couches. Past the door, muffled footsteps grew louder and softer at intervals.

Dim light streamed in from the glass windowpanes, onto his hand. He stared at his callused palm and fingers, the short nails recently trimmed with Kaoru’s help. No, he didn’t feel weak, not when his own skin embodied a lifetime of perseverance.

Twenty minutes passed; there was no update from Shinichi. After twenty more minutes, he decided it had been long enough already. He could slip out for a while and attempt to find the letters. Without deliberating any further, he went to the door and turned the knob.

Hm? It didn’t budge, and he twisted harder, to no avail. Had someone locked the door?

He rapped the wood with his knuckles. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” There was only silence. He continued to knock, proceeding to bang his fist against the door. With each hit, his alarm grew.

It could have been an honest mistake, but what if there was no visitor and Shinichi had delivered a false message? What if he had been lured here?

Koshijiro paused and looked over the room. From what he remembered, the left window was jammed and couldn’t be opened. He tried the right but the lock only budged halfway. He peered downwards, at the streets below. His gaze met two hats, belonging to its respective officers standing guard at the entrance.

With a tired sigh, he sat again to contemplate the situation. The initial panic had subsided, and he shifted his thoughts to who could have possibly planned this. Fujita, definitely. He had been too eager to shoo Koshijiro out of the dojo. But he had to have an accomplice, at least one, at the station. He doubted it was Shinichi, he was too honest.

Someone of high rank then, who could order Shinichi. It can’t be Chief Uramura; he wouldn’t sacrifice his space unless he was here to distract me. That means whoever it is, the accomplice must be distracting the chief. And whoever locked the door…a second accomplice. But why go to such lengths?

As Fujita had pointed out, Koshijiro wasn’t much of a threat. But what if that was the purpose, to keep him away…to get to someone else? Sagara’s wounds had come from a sword. Fujita had recently broken his shikomizue. Damn it, Fujita could have been the attacker all along! And he had his katana.

His daughter and everyone else was in danger. He needed to get out. Now.

He eyed the window again. It couldn’t be opened…at least, not with the lock. He glanced at the coat rack. Sturdy and tall, it resembled the sodegarami, the man-catching tool he had used until ten years ago. He walked over and grasped it. It was heavier than he expected, but he could tuck it under his arm and guide it with his hand. He made sure the path to the window was clear, and then, he readied himself into position. He aimed the end of the coat rack towards the glass. With a running start, he could break the glass and alert the officers guarding the front door. Of course, he would pay for the damage to the window. It would most likely come out of his salary.

Nevertheless, three, two, one…!

He charged.

Then, the door swung open. “Officer Kamiya?”

Koshijiro stumbled at the chief’s voice, stopping short of the window, but he managed to lower the coat rack and set it upright. Sweat rolled down his forehead, but he snapped to attention, turning and straightening his posture. The chief blinked in puzzlement and asked. “What are you doing?”

He explained, as calmly as he could. “I believe that I was locked inside your office by mistake. I have been waiting for almost an hour, and I concluded that no help was arriving. I apologize for my impatience.”

“No, it’s perfectly alright. It’s strange, it shouldn’t have been locked. Well, sorry about the delay, but I was giving our very important guest a tour of the building.” The chief ushered in a figure, and Koshijiro braced himself to see the face of Fujita’s accomplice. He did not recognize the man. The guest had a full mustache and beard; he wore his coat over a Western suit.

“This is the minister of the Department of Internal Affairs, Okubo Toshimichi.” The chief introduced him. That name was certainly memorable; Okubo was one of the most prominent figures in the country, the last of the three men who led the Ishin Shishi.

“Minister Okubo.” Koshijiro bowed deeply. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Please, stand up. The honor is mine, to meet a veteran of both Toba Fushimi and Satsuma.” His clear gaze was directed at Koshijiro’s face, instead of his armless sleeve.

“Ah…yes.” He maintained a respectful demeanor, but his mind was still racing. An official of Okubo’s standing would fit the criteria of Fujita’s accomplice. As for the second…

The chief then added. “Commissioner Kawaji, we’re here.” Another man entered the office. He was short of stature and balding, but Koshijiro remembered him from a few police ceremonies. He had to be the second accomplice.

Okubo spoke again. “I’d like to have a word alone with Kamiya-san.”

Without even questioning how odd that was, the chief was already in the hallway and closing the door. “Of course!”

Koshijiro subtly took a step towards the coat rack and window.

If Okubo noticed, he didn’t mention it and instead continued. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, the tour was a last minute change. I had intended to meet you at half past one, because I was told that you would definitely be here for the entirety of the day.”

“Saito-san usually has good information.” Kawaji muttered. “He must have made a rare mistake.”

“We had to switch to the secondary plan anyway, I did not want to deny the commissioner of his tour.” Okubo pressed his fingertips together. “But I wanted to speak with you directly, Kamiya-san. You’ve housed a wandering swordsman named Himura Kenshin, for the past three months. How has he fared?”

Koshijiro frowned. Was Okubo cornering him, just to ask about a former Ishin Shishi soldier? “He’s been a good boarder. Other than…I have no complaints that would concern you.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry, but would it be possible for us to meet again?”

“The minister is very busy.” Kawaji said. “We have been planning this for some time.”

“Well, perhaps, I should have been notified.”

“How rude! Is something irritating you, Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, and with every second, I’m more certain that both of you have a hand in it.”

Kawaji’s expression contorted in anger, but Okubo lifted a hand. “No, I understand. Kawaji, what is the time now?”

“Fifteen minutes past three.”

“Then, Saito-san should have fulfilled his task by now. Let’s go.”

Koshijiro struggled for patience, but he found that he had none left. He was exhausted and worried and sick of the deception. “I’m not. I’m going home, I’ve had enough of these games.”

They exchanged glances, and Okubo slowly said. “It would be best if we talk in the carriage. I promise you, we will take you home first. Consider it an apology.”

“I’ll accept.” He trailed the two of them, as they headed out to the road. A horse-drawn carriage was waiting, and Koshijiro silently stepped within.

While the carriage swayed and the buildings moved past, Okubo began to explain. “Your new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro, was sent to the station on my orders. His current objective is to evaluate Himura-san’s abilities in countering a certain threat.”

“And in doing so, he made a mistake and injured the wrong person. Since then, that person has not been conscious for more than an hour a day.”

“No, it wasn’t a mistake. He is very deliberate, that’s one of his strong points. I admit, that was extreme, but he must have intended to draw Himura-san’s attention. And his ire.”

“You want the assassin who worked for you ten years ago.” He realized. “Who do you want to kill?”

“That’s classified.” Kawaji automatically replied.

“The government can conscript any number of men. It did so for the rebellion in Satsuma, only last year. What kind of threat is it, that you would go to such lengths for one man?”

“Kamiya-san, that’s enough!”

He leaned back in his seat. “I assume that you know what happened to our last assistant chief inspector. He was not forthcoming with us and it resulted in betrayal. Forgive me, if I am overreacting to secrecy.”

A long pause followed. Outside, the scenery became more familiar, drawing closer to the Kamiya dojo.

Okubo stroked his beard. “It is classified information, and I would rather disclose it only once. You don’t have to wait any longer; we’ve arrived.”

Koshijiro dismounted first, calling out for his daughter to allow them in. “Kaoru!”

But it was Yahiko who opened the gate, his eyes wide. “Kamiya-san. Come on! We gotta stop them!” As he led the way to the dojo, he was trembling slightly, and Koshijiro laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

The distinct sound of metal on metal reached his ears. Kawaji pushed past, sprinting into the dojo and shouting. “Stop!”

At the same time, a scream of distress split the air. It sounded like Kaoru, and Koshijiro hurried to join the scene. He found her first, kneeling on the ground and clutching herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she was unharmed. Standing near her with anxious expressions, Takani was supporting a now fully conscious Sagara. And then, in the middle of the floor, Fujita and Himura had halted mid-step, their swords drawn. Both were bloodied, Fujita’s forehead and Himura’s right shoulder in particularly bad shape.

“Come to your senses, Saito. Your mission was to test the abilities of Hitokiri Battousai.” The commissioner scolded.

Fujita must have been a pseudonym, because he answered. “…I was almost enjoying myself. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

Now, Okubo stepped forward. “I understand your pride, as a former captain of the Shinsengumi. But neither you nor Himura-san can afford to risk your lives here.

“So you were the one pulling the strings,” Himura lifted his head, and his gaze was cold. “Okubo-dono.”

Okubo gave a wry smile. “I apologize for the rough treatment, but we desperately needed to know how strong you are. I hope you will hear me out.”

“Yes, and you will hold nothing back.”

It seemed to be Fujita’s cue to exit, because he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Mission report. Himura Kenshin is of no use to us, but Himura Battousai has potential. That’s all.” The commissioner didn’t appear pleased with the brevity, but he brushed it off.

Koshijiro seized the opportunity to remark. “So, you needed me out of the house, in order to fight Himura-san.”

Fujita scoffed. “You look like the kind of person who interferes, so I sought to distract you with paperwork. I should have never let you return to the dojo. You’re a stubborn one, that’s something I’ll remember. And by the way, if anyone asks why I was gone, I was patrolling the streets around here.”

“You’re telling me to withhold information from my colleagues, and so soon after the last assistant chief inspector destroyed our trust.” He bluntly said.

“That’s correct.” Fujita was just as forthright. “Because none of them can be trusted with a threat to national security. And if that’s all, I’m leaving.” He tossed his coat over his shoulder, and walked away. Koshijiro was too glad to see him go.

Okubo beckoned to Himura. “Come then, the carriage is still outside.”

“You must be…” Himura was about to make a retort, but instead, he trailed off. Then, he drove his fist between his eyes. As his knuckles came away bloody, he deeply inhaled. “This matter does not involve only this one. We will all hear what you have to say.”

Kaoru ran to him. “But first, we need to tend to your wounds. The blood hasn’t stopped yet…”

“Don’t touch them!” Takani warned and began to direct instructions to cleanse and bind the wounds. Himura was ushered to the bathhouse, Yahiko in tow to help.

In the kitchen, there was leftover tea, and Koshijiro poured some into a cup. The hot drink did very little to reduce the fury pumping through his veins. He paced back and forth, to try and curb the energy. At one point, Sagara entered but upon seeing Koshijiro, he declared. “Ah! I gotta take my medicine.” He pivoted, reversing his tracks.

After a while, the kitchen was too cramped, and he went outside. His daughter was washing Himura’s bloodied gi. Her figure seemed purposefully small, her chin tucked and her elbows drawn in.

Koshijiro knelt next to her. “Kaoru?”

“I-I’m fine.” She briefly pressed her sleeve to her puffy eyes.

“It’s over.”

“I know.” Her voice broke. “But I couldn’t do anything to stop Kenshin.”

“You didn’t have to, don’t blame yourself.”

“My voice couldn’t reach him. He was too far gone, lost in the past.”

“You should rest. The gi can wait.” He reached for her hands, but she jerked away.

“This is what I can do for him now. I don’t want to give up.” She kept turning the gi in the water, her eyes forced open to prevent any more tears forming. “That’s it.”

As much as he wanted to ease her pain, he realized he couldn’t comfort her. But the sooner the troublemakers left, the better off they’d all be. “I’m going to clean the dojo, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

He returned inside to retrieve a few old cloths, the threads beginning to come apart at the edges. He passed the kitchen, noticing that Takani was measuring rice in a clay pot. She was murmuring to herself. “With the two of them and the carriage driver, that’s three more plates. Nine in total.”

He spoke up. “Don’t go to such lengths. They’re not our guests. Guests would have announced themselves.”

Takani craned her head to look at him, blinking. “Well, I suppose…”

His heavy footsteps continued. He located the bucket of soapy water used to clean the dojo’s floor, and tossed the rags into the frothy liquid. The sliding door was slightly ajar and he used his foot to fully open it. Ignoring the presence of the minister and the commissioner, he squeezed out the excess water in the cloths. But their whispers floated over to him.

“Minister Okubo, we’re short on time.”

“We don’t have a choice. There’s nothing we need more than Himura-san’s strength.”

Koshijiro threw the rag in his hand onto the floor, and it landed with a wet splat. “Both of you, I need you out.”

“This is the only private area, we can’t discuss-”

He abruptly shut up, as Koshijiro stood to face him, thunder in his expression. “Right now, I’m very angry. Because of your deception, everyone is distressed. You only care about Himura-san’s strength, but he has been hurt, and blood was shed in the dojo. This place is meant to teach. If you have any respect, you will sit on the porch until I am finished cleaning. If you feel you can’t talk, then don’t. Be quiet.”

Okubo stared at him for a moment, before inclining his head. “Kawaji, the porch is this way.” The commissioner flashed one last affronted look at Koshijiro, but they acquiesced.

He scrubbed at the splattered blood, some of it on the walls. By the time he was finished, night had fallen, and the water had turned crimson. As he washed out the bucket, Kaoru approached him.

“Otou-san? Is it okay if we can talk in the dojo? The minister’s asking.”

“It’s fine.” Cleaning the dojo had served to calm his temper, for the most part.

They filed in, sitting in a semicircle to face the minister and commissioner. Himura had a bandage on his unscarred cheek and he guarded his right side, the bandages covered by a fresh, dark gray gi.

“I’ll be brief.” Okubo began. “Himura, Shishio is plotting rebellion in Kyoto.”

“And who’s that?” Sagara interjected.

“He was this one’s successor.” Himura answered. “When this one was assigned to fight openly against the Shinsengumi, Shishio Makoto became the next hitokiri. He was another member of the Ishin Shishi, from Choshuu. Very few knew he existed, even this one has never seen him. But this one heard that he died ten years ago, in the Boshin War.”

Okubo did not reply, and Himura interpreted his silence. “So, he was not killed in battle, but executed by the Ishin Shishi.”

“At that time, we didn’t have a choice. His skill and wits were almost equal to yours, but he had cunning and a longing for power. He didn’t care for his comrades. If the public found out about his assassinations, it would threaten the Meiji government. He couldn’t continue to live. Oil was even poured over his corpse and burned.”

“Well, that didn’t work.” Sagara sarcastically said, and the commissioner glared at him.

“Watch your mouth! And this is a serious matter! Shishio’s formed an army of bloodthirsty fighters and war-loving merchants. He wants to take his revenge upon this country, by creating another civil war.”

Okubo added. “All the troops we’ve sent have been obliterated. You are our last hope. For the sake of the people, Himura, please go to Kyoto once again.”

“In other words,” It was Kaoru’s turn to speak up. “You’re asking Kenshin to kill Shishio Makoto.”

“…Yes, that is what we’re asking.”

Kawaji elaborated. “Of course, he will be amply rewarded and we can adjust some things on our end. For example, this woman is Takani Megumi, suspected to have manufactured the highly addictive Spider’s Web opium. We can make that suspicion disappear.”

Takani slapped her hand on the floor. “If you’ll use me to blackmail Ken-san, I’d rather be executed.”

“And it was your dirty dealings that started this mess.” Sagara darkly said. “You want Kenshin to cover your own asses! Kenshin’s chosen to live without killing. I won’t stand by and watch you drag him into this. Screw the government! All that matters is the peace and safety of the people!”

A vein bulged in Kawaji’s temple as he pulled Sagara’s collar. “If Shishio succeeds, we won’t have that either, you fool! If you don’t shut up, I’ll arrest you!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Sagara taunted, and grabbed the commissioner in turn.

Yahiko sighed. “The only thing I get is that if Kenshin hadn’t disappeared, you guys would’ve killed him too. You only kill people when it suits you, that’s pathetic.” That was true, and silently, Kawaji released Sagara, who made a rude hand gesture.

Kaoru folded her hands in her lap, her steady gaze on the minister. “Okubo-san, I understand that you need Hitokiri Battousai, but that isn’t Kenshin, not anymore. We will never allow Kenshin to go to Kyoto.”

“That’s outrageous!” Kawaji then turned to Koshijiro. “Please, Kamiya-san. You know what’s at stake, you sided with this government.”

But they didn’t know. They didn’t know the reason why he fought, what had convinced him to join their side, and after ten years, they had lost sight of that reason.

Koshijiro squarely looked at Okubo. “That war is finished. Himura-san fulfilled his duties to you then. If the government needs an assassin, they won’t find one here.”

The commissioner’s temper flared, and he spat. “You’re a fool, just like everyone else here!”

Okubo disagreed. “Quiet, Kawaji. I understand, Kamiya-san. Investing in the Meiji era has required much sacrifice on your part. The same goes for you.” He glanced at Himura. “This is a decision too important to make in one night. I’ll come to see you in a week, on May 14th. I’ll expect a good answer then.” He drew his coat around him and at last, he returned to his carriage with the commissioner.

“Stubborn bastards.” Sagara stalked off. “Good riddance! Let’s eat already, I’m starving.”

“Your appetite’s a good sign, but you’ll regret it if you overeat.” Takani warned.

Dinner was spent in silence, except for the noises of their utensils. Although it was still relatively early, everyone was generally eager to go to bed. Koshijiro was about to retire, but as he was closing the door, Himura suddenly peered through the gap.

“Can this one speak with you?”

“…alright.” He allowed the redhead in, feeling a little awkward.

Himura took a single step from the door, before he knelt and bowed his head. “This one apologizes, for the trouble he caused today.”

“If anyone needs to apologize, it would be Minister Okubo and Commissioner Kawaji.” When he didn’t react, Koshijiro continued. “They think highly of your skill with the sword, but you weren’t moved.”

“This one was not born to a samurai family, he was taught the sword by his master. When the people were suffering, this one saw and wanted to help.” He mulled over his words. “Minister Okubo and the commissioner are not wrong, to believe that this one would help again. But Saito had already drawn his sword, and this one succumbed to anger.”

“First of all, it was a terrible plan, if they were trying to negotiate with you. The minister did not consider your will. This week, we’ll do our best to protect you from being exploited. Your decision is what matters.” He studied Himura’s expression. “You look like you want to say something else.”

After a second, he nodded. “Kamiya-dono, you’re a respected officer and a veteran twice over. More than anyone else in this house, you would understand why they asked for this one, yet you took this one’s side. Why?”

If Koshijiro closed his eyes, he could remember many things. The crash of water against the riverbanks. The violent slap of a hand across his cheek. And faintest of all, a soft humming.

“It’s for the same reason why I fought in the Bakumatsu. I wanted to build a world in which people could be respected, from birth to death. A world that was not so rigid in who deserved certain treatment, who decided what privileges were given. The transition has not been perfect, but I still believe that a person should decide how they want to live. That includes you.” He gruffly added.

“…thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

There was a faint rustle, and Himura turned his head towards the door. “Yes?”

A long pause followed, before Kaoru entered. “Um, don’t mind me, I was checking the corners for dust. Don’t worry, they’re all clean.” She gave a little laugh, as her cheeks grew pink.

At this angle, Himura’s face couldn’t be seen, but the younger man’s tone was markedly light. “Then, that’s good.”

Koshijiro cleared his throat. “While you’re both here, let Takani and Sagara know that the five of us should meet tomorrow. I’d like your help in preparing for something.”

***

“What’s all this?” Yahiko blinked at the spray of irises and azalea flowers on the table. Koshijiro had chosen those, for the season and how the colors complemented each other. The second addition to their afternoon tea was an array of rice cakes, wrapped in green oak leaves. The unfamiliar sight confused him. “Are we having another party?”

“No, it’s a holiday.” Kaoru explained. “Haven’t you celebrated Boy’s Day before?”

“Of course I have.” He scratched his head. “My mom usually bought me a skewer of dango. That was about it though…”

“Well,” Sagara clapped the boy’s shoulder. “We can do a lot more than that today. You’re only a kid once. That’s why I went out and bought this.” With his other hand, he drew out a small carp streamer the length of his forearm. It was probably the cheapest one, but Yahiko’s eyes widened.

“Whoa! I can keep this?” He gingerly held onto the streamer, running his fingers over the pale blue scales.

“Yeah, it’s yours! We’ll fly it outside after we eat.”

The rice cakes had been generously filled with red bean paste, and Sagara and Yahiko eagerly tackled their shares. As she tasted hers, Takani straightened her shoulders with pride. “Hm, not bad for my first attempt.”

Koshijiro bit into one, and the sweetness filled his mouth. It went well, with the green tea that his daughter had prepared. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tucking it out of the way as she enjoyed the mochi. Sitting next to her, Himura curved his fingers around his cup, closing his eyes at the heat. Despite his injuries, he had still insisted on finding a vase for the flowers.

The wind picked up, just in time for Sagara to tie the carp to the laundry line. It was quickly sent aloft and wriggled as if it were swimming in place.

“The carp is symbolic, because it bravely fights against the current.” Koshijiro addressed Yahiko. “I also had one, when I was a boy, and like you, I dreamed of becoming a swordsman. But it is good to cherish the present. Today, we’ll celebrate your childhood.”

“Oh…thanks. At least, it’s only for a day.” Despite his bluster, he couldn’t seem to resist tapping the carp’s tail with a finger.

Himura smiled. “Is the streamer to your liking?”

“Yeah, I guess.” But his face broke into a grin. Kaoru noticed and ruffled his hair.

“Geez, be honest. This is fun!”

Yes, this had been a good idea. Watching them, Koshijiro felt content. He didn’t know it then, but this was probably the happiest they’d be for many weeks.

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 7

Okay, I managed to take this down before the next Hokkaido arc chapter! Yeah! Although that’s because I don’t feel well enough to do my classwork, shh...but novel news is tiding me over... This story can be found on FF.net, AO3.

Interlude: Cicadas in Spring

In the start of April, the weather was unpredictable, warm one day and chilly the next. Colds were going around, and Koshijiro had developed a cough. Fortunately, he didn’t have a fever, but he made the decision to stay home, to prevent infecting his colleagues. Three days of hot broth and tea had helped, yet the cough still lingered.

From within his room, he heard his daughter calling out. “Yahiko! Yahiko…you’re not him! Geez, the two of you have similar hair.”

“Tch, lay off.” That was Sagara’s voice. He must have arrived this morning.

For the past couple of weeks, Yahiko had been skipping practice. It was infrequent, but he didn’t mention a word to Kaoru and that was unacceptable behavior from a student. Koshijiro wound a scarf around his neck, before checking further within the house. There was no sign of the boy anywhere, his bed had been made and his shoes were missing as well. Koshijiro turned towards the porch, where his daughter was sitting. Himura had both hands in soapy water and laundry, as Sagara chewed on the remnants of a grilled fish.

Kaoru greeted him. “Good morning, Otou-san. Yahiko’s not hiding inside, is he?”

“No, I didn’t see him.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s disappeared again. I wonder what he’s doing…”

“I bet he’s gone to meet a girl.” Sagara gave a sly smile.

“No way. With the way he eats, it’s more likely to be food.”

“Or he could be training.” Himura suggested. He looked particularly contemplative, or maybe, it was because he was scrubbing at a stain. “By now, he should be thinking more about the sword.”

It remained a mystery, for Yahiko didn’t return until late afternoon. Surprisingly, he endured Kaoru’s scolding without much of a fight. “I was in town, okay?”

“And what were you doing?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m at the dojo, four out of six days a week.” That answer didn’t seem to please Kaoru, and she looked even more frustrated.

Koshijiro chose not to step in. It was best she had to deal with this issue herself, as a teacher. He also had his own idea about Yahiko’s absences: that the boy had taken on a job for pay. He could understand wanting pocket money. When he was at that age, he had tried to save up on his own. Although, that was because of his circumstances at the time…

Yahiko was let off with a warning, although he brushed it off. As he trudged to the bathhouse, Koshijiro said to his daughter. “I hope you have a plan to deal with him further.”

“Oh, I do. Next week, we’re going to follow him into town. You, me, Kenshin, and Sanosuke. He won’t notice at all.”

It sounded risky, but in the end, curiosity won out. Once Yahiko crept past the gate, they followed some distance behind. His shinai was strapped to his back, but that didn’t compensate for his poor surveillance skills, as he only looked to the left and right. He was acting suspicious too, meandering here and there through the streets.

Himura had been in front and he stopped. “Oro? The Akabeko?” Yahiko had slipped inside, barely moving the doors.

“Ah, so it was food!” Kaoru clenched a fist in victory.

But when they entered, the restaurant was empty, save for a few customers. Tae noticed them, waving. “Hello, everyone! Would you like a table?”

“In a minute.” Kaoru explained. “We’re looking for Yahiko.”

“You just missed him. I sent him to get more charcoal from the back.”

“Is he working here?”

“Mm, only errands. Although…I was supposed to keep it a secret.” Concern touched her expression. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, it’s fine. But why would he do something like this?”

Sagara stood on tiptoe, peering past them. “I might have an idea.” He jerked his chin towards a young girl around Yahiko’s age. She wore the uniform of a waitress, and she had delicate features and short hair.

Tae murmured. “That’s Tsubame, she started a few days after Yahiko did. Tsubame? Can you help Yahiko with the charcoal?”

“Yes, Tae-san.” She was a little nervous, quickly bowing before running to her destination.

“Oh, dear, I hope she doesn’t trip over herself.”

“She seems like a good worker.” Koshijiro noted, as the others crowded around the back door. Yahiko was shouldering a sack of charcoal, but they were out of his line of sight. Tsubame had fallen, and he lifted her bag for her.

Tsubame scrambled to her feet, looking more mussed than before. “I’m sorry, Yahiko-chan.”

“I don’t like being called that.” He grumbled. “And stop being so jumpy. ‘Discipline your movements.’ That’s part of swordsmanship.” He was saying the last more to himself, as he adjusted the weight of both bags.

Avoiding Yahiko’s entrance, they recouped in the dining area. There was no danger of being sighted now, for Tae said that his duties were anything but cooking and serving.

Sagara counted off his fingers. “A girl, food, training. Well, we were all kind of right, but there’s no clear motive to start working here.”

“I give him a small salary. He could be helping out with household expenses.” Tae said, which Kaoru and Sagara quickly dismissed.

“No way!”

“That brat wouldn’t.”

Tae looked dejected, and Koshijiro told her. “It was a good guess. However, we were unaware he was being paid.” He turned away, his throat acting up again, and was overtaken by a sudden fit of coughing.

“Here, Kamiya-dono.” Himura had refilled his cup. “More tea will help.”

“Thank you.” He managed to reply, before forcing down the hot liquid.

“I’ll make another pot.” Tae excused herself. As she walked back to the kitchen, she passed Tsubame, who was hurrying to assist another table.

When the girl saw the occupants, she took a step backwards, her eyes wide. She looked about, clutching her skirt. “Um, I’ll lead you to the outhouse.” She seemed very small, compared to the three men who followed her. The door slammed behind them.

“…This one will return shortly.” Himura grabbed his sword and left the table.

After a pause, Koshijiro stood. “I’ll go as well.” He had a suspicion that Tsubame’s nervousness this time was because of those customers. As expected, the only one near the outhouse was Himura. He glanced at Koshijiro, lifting a finger to his lips. Quietly, they headed down the nearby side street.  

A couple of turns later, Koshijiro furtively looked around a corner, at the ensuing scene. There were five more men now, and they were armed with bokken. They had ganged up on Yahiko, beating him as he curled on the ground. Tsubame cried out, begging them to stop.

Anger rose within Koshijiro. Yahiko was only a child, and he didn’t have much of a chance against these brutal men. But Himura had his sakabato and wasn’t moving.

There was a hiss from behind them. “Are you just going to stand there?” Sagara nudged Himura with his foot. “Don’t just watch.”

Kaoru had also joined them, pushing them aside. “Then, I’ll go. He’s my student, I’m responsible for him.”

“One moment.” Himura tugged at her ponytail, too briefly for Koshijiro to remind him about the rule. “This is something Yahiko must do on his own.”

“What are you talking about? He’s in danger.”

“If we step in, he’ll know we were following him. And if you are always rescued, you’ll never become strong. We should only help him, when he asks for it.”

Koshijiro acknowledged Himura’s perspective, and he had to side with it. It was true that Yahiko was still young, but he had responsibilities as a student of the sword. And because of them, he had to be mature, early on. Quietly, Koshijiro admitted. “Himura’s right, these lessons are valuable and can only be learned through experience. However, we’ll continue to watch him.”

The men had stopped, once Tsubame gave them what they wanted. It was a key-shaped model, and the leader, a man with droopy eyes, snickered as they walked away. Tsubame ran over to a wincing, bruised Yahiko.

He wiped the corner of his mouth, his sleeve coming away with smeared blood. “They’ll only need a day to make a replica of the key. They’ll break into Tae’s house tomorrow night.”

“Yahiko-chan. Oh, I mean, Yahiko-kun…”

“No, I don’t care. I couldn’t beat them, could I?” He sounded terribly bitter. “Don’t worry about me, I decided to help you. And I’m not giving up.”

In silence, they watched him, as he limped down the street. It was his fight. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be around, if he needed them.

***

The following morning was just like yesterday, except there was some kind of contraption in the yard. A log had been propped up, two bamboo poles crossed at its top. Four wooden planks hung down from each of the four ends.

Koshijiro sipped his second cup of tea. “Did you make this, Yahiko?”

He was stretching, rotating his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a new way of training. For many enemies at once.”

“It won’t be much use. Think about it.” On the porch, Kaoru propped her chin in her hands. “The boards move in a fixed way, it’s not like how people move. They think and plan, and make complicated, coordinated attacks. This will just help your reflexes.”

Yahiko tapped his shinai in his hand. “If you know all that, then what should I do instead?”

That was outside of Kaoru’s experience. Even in Kanryuu’s mansion, her opponents had been fought one at a time. She hesitated. “Well, you should…make it one on one.”

“That’s not any help!”

“It is, actually.” Himura spoke up, from his spot near the laundry tub. “If you’re faced with a group, run away.” Yahiko was about to protest, but Himura continued. “Or rather, make it seem like you’re running away. As they follow you, it will be more apparent, who’s slower or faster. That way, you can take them on one at a time, as long as you have speed and stamina.”

“Oh. I get it now.” Yahiko paused, considering the concept. “What about you, Kamiya-san? You fought in wars too. Any advice?”

“Rely on your practice. Kaoru’s taught you well, don’t put it to waste.”

He glanced at Kaoru. “Okay.”

“And remember something else that’s important.” She said. “Kamiya Kasshin is the sword that protects. That’s why you can’t fail or surrender, for the sake of whoever you’re fighting for.”

He nodded, looking more resolute. “I understand.”

In the end, the contraption was only used for honing reflexes. It was useful in that respect, but not very sturdy, and it was taken down before dinner. The sky grew dark over the house, and Yahiko slipped out, thinking he had been discreet. However, they did notice, and Sagara and Himura departed to tail him. Kaoru paced back and forth for a while, until at last, she picked up her own bokken. “I said all I could, but I’m still worried.”

“And that’s perfectly fine. You wouldn’t be a good teacher otherwise.”

She smiled. “Then, let’s go. Just in case, of course.” Her ponytail bobbed as she walked past the gate, and Koshijiro remarked.

“Have you thought about wearing your hair in a bun?”

“Not really, why?”

“So Himura isn’t tempted to pull it.”

“Otou-san…”

“He acted like a schoolboy yesterday.”

She gave a distasteful expression. “Kenshin isn’t a schoolboy. I thought you two were getting along!” She stomped further ahead, before halting. “Is that…?”

A familiar, short-haired girl huddled in the shadow of a building, peering around its corner. She hadn’t seen them, her attention on a dark alley.

“Yes, that appears to be Tsubame.” Koshijiro said. “But this isn’t near the Akabeko, it’s a dead end.”

“I know.” Kaoru went over to her, clasping her shoulder. “Good evening, although it isn’t very safe at night.”

Tsubame jumped. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yahiko’s teacher. I know what’s happening, and I thought you might be here to try and stop those men.”

She looked down. “Mikio-sama, or rather, Nagaoka-san belongs to the family mine served for generations. I didn’t know how to refuse him. So, I thought if I could stop them, Yahiko-chan wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Right now, it seems like it’s too late. He’s made it all the way here, to fight them off. You’ll have to trust Yahiko, and make a promise to yourself.”

“A promise?”

“That if Yahiko wins, you will also be stronger. This is a new era, and the four classes are equal. Your heart must reflect that, and if Nagaoka comes back to you, tell him no from the beginning. You’re not obligated to serve him, your duty is to what you believe is right. That’s how you have to live now.”

Abruptly, seven men ran out from around the corner. As they rushed past, Koshijiro heard them muttering ‘Battousai’ and ‘Zanza’. So, the other two were nearby, showing their presence. He glimpsed into the alley, but Yahiko was still fighting the leader. Nagaoka lunged, aiming low.

“Yahiko-kun!” Tsubame called out, no longer hiding. She stood straight, facing him. “Please, win!”

With a shout, Yahiko threw his weight on his right foot, stopping Nagaoka’s bokken. It snapped on the ground, and as Nagaoka faltered, Yahiko seized the opportunity for a head strike. He had won, decisively so.

Kaoru stepped over Nagaoka’s unconscious body, beaming at Yahiko. “You did it! As expected of my first student!” She was so proud, she hugged him.

“W-what? Get off!” He spluttered and twisted away. “Wait. If you’re here, then that means…” He whipped around.

Koshijiro caught a flash of movement from the closest rooftop, and then, an incredibly poor imitation of cicadas humming.

“There aren’t cicadas in spring!” Yahiko ground out. “Kenshin and Sano!”

They emerged, appearing nonchalant. Himura rubbed the back of his head. “Oro…”

“It wasn’t any of your business. Were you watching the whole time?”

“Yeah, and you weren’t half bad.” Sagara ruffled his hair. “Nice work.”

Himura also smiled. “Yes, you used your surroundings and your training to your advantage. It was good swordsmanship. Well done.”

“Hmph. Anyway, I got the key mold. I was thinking it can be evidence, but, er, Tsubame…” It was possible that she would be in trouble for assisting Nagaoka.

Gently, Kaoru said. “We don’t have to involve Tsubame with the police. As for her job, Tae’s very fair, but it’s late. I’ll escort Tsubame home.”

“Then, take care.” Himura then offered. “We’ll wait for the police, so we can turn in the potential burglar.”

Tsubame didn’t move immediately. “Um, thank you, Yahiko-kun.” There may have been a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I didn’t help you to be thanked.” But he toed the dirt, slightly flustered. “Er…shy and awkward people rub me the wrong way.”

“Yes, so I’m not going to be as shy and awkward.” They exchanged a glance, before she gave a little wave. “I’ll see you at the Akabeko tomorrow.”

Koshijiro and Kaoru went with her, although they weren’t out of earshot, when Sagara demanded. “So, why were you working? You’ve been keeping this secret the whole time.”

“Alright, alright. I want to buy a sakabato, for when I’m as good as Kenshin.” There was a raucous burst of laughter from Sagara, making Yahiko add. “This is exactly why I kept it a secret! D-don’t tell anyone else!”

However, his voice was loud in the quiet evening, and they heard, Kaoru stifling a laugh. So, he was saving up. And that meant…

“Ah, I won.”

“Kamiya-san?” Tsubame blinked. “Did you say something?”

“It’s nothing of importance.” But still, he smiled as they walked on.

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #at arm's length #kamiya koshijiro

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 5

Well, I’ll post in case the storm over here knocks out the power. :p FF.net, AO3

Chapter 5: The Runaway

The following morning, Koshijiro was prepared to train the newest officers. He had ideas about how to assign them, but that would depend on their individual personalities and work ethics. He was about to depart for the police station, when his daughter came up to him.

“Otou-san, have you seen Kenshin?”

“I did not.” Breakfast had been on the table, but there was no other sign of the redhead.

“Hmm.” Her brow furrowed, and she turned on her heel, walking further into the house.

Yahiko was of more help, calling out from the yard. “Sano stopped by, he said they were going out.” At Kaoru’s dubiousness, he added. “I wouldn’t lie. If you worry this much, get Kenshin on a leash.”

She flushed. “You little brat! That’s just…ew!”

“You didn’t have to take me seriously!”

Koshijiro sternly interrupted the exchange. “The both of you should start lessons. Himura and Sagara will be fine wherever they are.”

“It’s the Shuueiya.” Yahiko informed Kaoru. “A gambling hall.”

“G-gambling hall?! Geez, they had better not lose everything.” Despite her disgruntled tone, her expression had relaxed from before. “Otou-san, do you need a bento box?”

“No, I will be in town for most of the day. I’ll be back before dinner.” He said goodbye and saw them wave as he left.

When he entered the department’s large meeting room, the chief introduced him to the group of fifteen officers. “This is former officer Kamiya-san. He recently returned from Satsuma, but he’s been with us for over ten years. He will be in charge of your training from now on.”

Fifteen pairs of eyes stared at his trailing sleeve.

“Yes, I lost my arm in battle.” Koshijiro directly addressed the matter, hoping their curiosity was satisfied. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, because they began to chatter amongst themselves. He loudly cleared his throat, and they remembered to be quiet.

Soon, he realized the group only needed to be motivated properly. They slacked off on patrols because they were bored, and it was difficult to keep their attention. When he started to lecture about the new patrol routes, they were still distracted by the novelty of his missing arm. Well, except for Kosaburo. He remained attentive the entire time, politely raising his hand when he had a question. He showed the most promise, despite his inexperience.

It was still early when Koshijiro finished lecturing, so he divided them into groups of three and assigned each a route. The young men were well-behaved as they practiced patrolling, but he would have to observe them later, when they thought he wasn’t looking. It was close to evening when he finished checking their paperwork, and handed over their next assignments.

He walked through the streets of Tokyo, alone. It had been a little over a month since his return, and already, much had changed. His daughter was the master of Kamiya Kasshin. An Ishin Shishi veteran and ex-assassin was now handling the household chores. The sole student had once been a pickpocket and their most frequent visitor was a former street fighter. In the old days, all of this would have been frowned upon. But Koshijiro did not care for the past. Now, every day was high-spirited and cheerful. Even with unexpected events, the house was a great deal livelier. He preferred it.

As if fate had read his mind, another surprise awaited him at home. Everyone was in the yard, and ignoring Himura’s spread-eagled body on the ground, he immediately singled out the one unfamiliar person, a young woman with long hair and a red-lipped smile. She wasn’t a friend of Kaoru, judging by how his daughter leveled a firm look at her.

“Takani-san, was it? I’m very sorry, but you can go home. These two idiots might have won you in gambling, but you’re free now.”

Takani didn’t budge. “Oh, I don’t want to. I like this man, you see.” She knelt, helping the half-beaten Himura to a sitting position. She tilted her head close, intimately. “I don’t want to leave his side for a second. And I’m better company than that sweaty girl, aren’t I, Ken-san?”

Himura only gave a dazed moan of ‘oro’, while Kaoru spluttered. “S-stop that!”

“What’s the matter? It doesn’t look like you’re his lover, so you don’t have a say in what he does.”

“Come on, don’t tease her so much, she’s naïve.” Sagara’s input was the last straw.

His daughter was seething in frustration, and Koshijiro stepped in. “Kaoru, you and Yahiko should change out of your uniforms. It’s getting late.” The boy was eager to acquiesce, but Kaoru flashed a glare at the other three.

“If you’d rather not stay at the house of a naïve, sweaty girl, then you can just go!”

Well, Koshijiro hadn’t been happy with how they had picked on her, but losing her temper was too far. “Kaoru!” He scolded, but she ran inside.

“Oh, it’s alright. Girls at that age can be quite testy.” Takani gave a lofty laugh, as if she were a worldly lady, instead of a girl barely older than Kaoru.

Koshijiro turned to them, and Takani stiffened. He then looked to Sagara. “Is it true about the gambling?”

“Er…yeah?” He scratched his head. “Sorry, old man, but we’d like her to stay close.” His tone wasn’t very lighthearted, foreboding rather. He was hiding something, Koshijiro was sure of it.

“Perhaps it’s best for all of you to be elsewhere, until Kaoru calms down. Takani-san, I am Kamiya Koshijiro, Kaoru’s father. You’re welcome to stay for the night, but you should know that my daughter is your hostess and she should be treated accordingly.”

“…yes.” For a moment, it was like she was hiding behind a shield, backing off to protect herself. Her smile was tight. “I’ll be a model guest.”

***

Koshijiro gave a stern lecture, while dinner was being prepared. “Even if you don’t like Takani-san, that is no excuse for bad manners.”

Kaoru had been slicing tofu and now, she brought the knife down heavily on the cutting board. “I was polite! It was Takani-san who was rude first. Why isn’t she hearing this?”

“I do not care who started it, only that you behaved poorly and we must remedy that.” Also, he was honestly at a loss for how to deal with someone like Takani. Or this entire tug-of-war over Himura.

Meanwhile, Yahiko was listening nonchalantly. “Yeah, you were overreacting. Get a grip, moody hag.”

“That’s enough from you, young man.”

“Sorry.” He clammed up.

“But he is correct in that you overreacted. You need to be more mature, in control of your temper. The minute you lose restraint, your efforts will be for nothing. You must be clearheaded and calm, especially with those who are difficult. If you are not, they will get what they want.”

“Fine. I understand, Otou-san.” Kaoru said shortly, and it was silent, except for the thud of the knife in her hand. “Ah, then again. You tried to punch Kenshin when you first met him.”

Of course, that would be brought up! But he supposed he deserved it. His own temper was a work in progress, forty-six years in the making.

Yahiko’s eyes widened. “What?”

“It was a misunderstanding. I apologized later that day, as you should, Kaoru.”

“I know, I will.” She griped, but she sounded more contrite.

An hour later, Sagara and Himura returned. Takani was with them, but she looked rattled, her eyes darting around the room. She didn’t sit down until Himura urged her to.

Kaoru was remorseful, as she set the table. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s been a long day.”

Himura shook his head. “No, we shouldn’t have brought a guest without asking you beforehand. That was presumptuous of us.” He smiled at her, and she tentatively returned the expression.

“Good, so all’s forgiven.” Sagara grinned. “Let’s eat.”

Dinner was mostly civil, although Sagara and Yahiko’s etiquette needed polishing. Twice, Koshijiro reminded them to stop talking with their mouths full. Kaoru related the day’s events to Himura, and while he was listening to her, Koshijiro noticed his shoulders were tense. He’d have to find out what matter Takani brought to their doorstep.

“Would you like more tea, Takani-san?” He politely asked.

“Oh, no, thank you. And I’d rather not trouble you.” Her gaze was on his missing arm. “Is that recent?”

“From Satsuma.”

“Ah, so you were wounded there.” She was more alert. “Any pain or tenderness?”

“I have occasional phantom pains, but my physician has already given medicine. Aspirin, I believe.”

“No opium.” There was a note of relief in her voice.

“Dr. Oguni doesn’t trust it.”

“That’s good.” She pressed her lips together. “Well, if you feel ill, I have no qualms about hearing your concerns.” Then, she turned her attention to Himura, and the chance to question her was lost amidst her flirtations and Kaoru’s barely restrained apprehension.

After dinner, the stark jolts of pain had also returned, forcing him to excuse himself to his bedroom. He closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and slowly emptying his mind.

“Hey, old man! Your daughter’s peeping!” Sagara’s voice broke him out of meditation. Heaving a sigh, Koshijiro rose and peered out through the window into the yard.

“I wasn’t!” Kaoru said vehemently, releasing her grip on Sagara’s collar. “I was…checking in on Kenshin and Takani-san. They haven’t come out yet.” Supposedly, they were having a ‘discussion’ in one of the rooms.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Sagara reassured her. “He might be strong, but Kenshin’s just weak when it comes to women and children.”

“And what about you?” She countered.

His eyes darkened. “I couldn’t care less about that vixen!” It was a strangely intense reaction.

“If there’s something we deserve to know,” Koshijiro cleared his throat and stepped out. “It’d be wise to share it.”

At that moment, Himura joined them. “It’s a sensitive matter, Kamiya-dono. This one can only say that it there may be a serious incident.” He handed a slip of paper to Sagara, who unfolded it. “In this case, the fewer people involved, the better.”

Koshijiro raised his eyebrows. “It’s a matter too sensitive for the police?”

He gave that harmless smile. “Yes, for now.”

It wasn’t a very satisfactory answer, but Kaoru relented a little. “Alright. When it’s over, we’d like an explanation.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, a cackle floated up from the floorboards. Koshijiro frowned, as Yahiko squirmed out from underneath the porch. “I heard everything! It’s not fair, I want in on this!”

“No way, you’re just a kid.” Sagara dismissed him.

“W-well, you’re just a Sanosuke!” Yahiko attempted a retort and a flying kick, which was easily blocked.  

While the others laughed, Koshijiro caught Takani’s profile, from within the house. She was looking at them, her expression inexplicably melancholy. It was odd, for the spring night was pleasant enough.

At least, until the gate blew open. Concrete and wooden splinters soared through the air.

“They’re here!” Takani’s voice was panicked.

Beyond Himura and Sagara, Koshijiro spotted a hulking shadow that had taken the place of the gate. It was a large man, who could have been a sumo wrestler in another life. He pushed aside pieces of the crumbling wall, as he ordered. “Megumi. Hand her over. I’m Hyottoko of the Oniwanbanshuu, and I might not hurt anyone else if you do what I say now.”

Tense silence followed. Koshijiro drew Kaoru and Yahiko behind him.

Hyottoko scoffed. “Well, a fight it is then. Who’s first? Either, both, it doesn’t matter.”

“Me!” Sagara roared and rushed forward. “I’ll make you talk about the opium!”

Opium? Koshijiro glanced at Takani, who was paler. A sensitive matter, the appearance of a former spy, the secrecy, her interest in physiology. She was likely a manufacturer of the drug, probably escaped from whoever handled her.

Sagara had landed a punch, but Hyottoko didn’t budge. He clicked his teeth, and in the next instant, there was blazing heat. The flames were brief, yet they blackened the grass and Sagara had to throw off his singed coat. He had been lucky, only his leg had taken the most damage.

“That’s our fire man!” There was a distant laugh. “Oil in his gut and flint in his teeth. Nothing he can’t burn!”

“Leave, Beshimi.” Hyottoko snapped, and at the base of his tongue, a drip was visible. Did that connect to where the oil was held?

“Don’t look away. I’m your opponent.” Himura called out, holding the sakabato before him.

“After I’m finished with this one, you’re next, no hurry.”

“That’s true, you can take your time with your sideshow act. It won’t touch a hair.” Himura’s goading worked, for the man was enraged enough to direct the next blast of flames toward him. But Himura wasn’t even singed, as he rapidly spun his sword.

“Oh, he’s using the wind to make a shield!” Yahiko crowed, and Koshijiro pulled him back.

“Go inside and wait there.”

“As if I could! I’m part of Kenshin’s company!”

Exasperated, Koshijiro turned to his daughter, only to see that she wasn’t there. Neither was Takani, but they hadn’t gone far.

“Going somewhere? You could at least watch those who are fighting for your sake.” Kaoru was stopping Takani, who appeared to be trying to slip out.

“Beshimi might be a different story, but Hyottoko is more typical of the Oniwabanshuu. He can’t be beaten by a regular swordsman.”

“Kenshin will win.” She said with certainty. “Because he’s not a regular swordsman.”

Indeed, Himura’s deflection had stalled the attack. Hyottoko had run out of oil, and the flames sputtered out. Then, he suddenly began to pound his stomach.

“He’s trying to refill the oil!” Kaoru realized.

“You’ll have to remove the bag in his stomach!” Koshijiro added. The height of battle could be blamed for that outburst.

However, Sagara walked up, insisting. “Thanks, Kenshin, but I’ll take care of him this time!”

“Your leg’s hurt.” Kaoru protested, but Himura retreated.

“Go ahead, Sanosuke.”

Hyottoko had also recovered, and he aimed directly at Sagara. Within the fire, Sagara’s shadow leapt. He reached into the other man’s mouth and dragged out the oil sack. His arms were covered in burns, but his good leg landed a roundhouse kick into Hyottoko’s jaw, landing the former spy.

“They’re strong.” Takani had found her voice again. “Himura and Sagara.”

“They are, and I can count on them as friends. I’m proud of them.” Kaoru beamed and headed toward them. “Are you two okay? Geez, you really are hurt.”

Exhaustion set in as the adrenaline crashed, and Koshijiro sat on the porch with a sigh. “Yes, they barely managed to win.”

“It seems like that, doesn’t it?” Himura grinned, but the revelry was cut short as he whirled around. “Beshimi is still here!”

A second ninja emerged from the trees over the wall, his face ghastly in the moonlight. This one was more the type, with cunning, angular features and short stature. He snapped his wrist, and something whistled straight towards Takani. But it never hit her.

“Watch out!” Yahiko jumped, a dart landing in the back of his hand. It would have been in Takani’s heart, otherwise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaoru ran to him, helping him up from the ground. “What if it was in your heart? This isn’t a game, so stay back!”

“We’re all protecting her, aren’t we? I said I’m part of Kenshin’s company! Have a little…faith…in…” His words began to slur, and he collapsed once more.

Poison. Dread filled Koshijiro and he hurried over as well.

Beshimi was still talking. “That’s what happens when you get involved in other people’s business! He’ll have an hour at most. You’re next, by the way-huh?” His target had been Himura, who had vanished before him. A moment later, Himura landed his ambush, striking the sakabato down on Beshimi’s head.

However, the falling poisoner’s body didn’t touch the ground. It had happened quickly, but another ninja had been present and dashed to catch his comrade. The man, wearing a Hann’ya mask, held up his hand in surrender. “We’re retreating.”

“We won’t stop you from leaving.” Himura answered. “But give us the poison’s antidote.”

“Why should we? You’re the enemy.”

Himura attacked, but the Hann’ya man stopped the blade with his gloved fist. With the other, he struck Himura, who dug his scabbard into the other man’s liver. As the Hann’ya man stumbled backwards, Himura fell to the grass and Koshijiro moved to stand near him. There was no chance to win against this ninja now, but regardless, he looked for an opening. Anything, to obtain an antidote.

But there was none, and the Hann’ya man only said. “This battle isn’t over. As long as you house Takani Megumi, we’ll be back.” With that, he quickly extricated himself, Hyottoko, and Beshimi. They seemed to melt into the darkness.

“Yahiko! Yahiko!” Kaoru and Sagara were shouting, slapping the boy’s face to keep him awake.

Koshijiro offered his hand to the grimacing Himura, helping him up. He was rather light, but his grip was still strong. As they ran over, Koshijiro inquired. “Himura, do you know what we can do?”

“This one only has experience with broken bones and sword wounds. Should we suck the poison out of the wound?”

Kaoru was prepared to, but Takani grabbed her hand. “You’ll only infect the wound. This isn’t a job for amateurs.” She knelt, fluidly taking Yahiko’s pulse and opening his eyelids. “It’s jimsonweed. Kamiya-san, help me elevate his body with pillows. You mentioned your physician Dr. Oguni. I’ll write a prescription, Kaoru can get it from him. Ken-san, I need boiled water and washcloths. And you buy ice.” She told Sagara, before turning her focused gaze on all of them. “This is a race against time. Go!”

***

By the time Dr. Gensai arrived, most of the debris in the yard had been cleared. Koshijiro waited outside, keeping watch in case anyone else would ambush them in this uncertain situation. But no one did, and Dr. Gensai beckoned him inside, to join his daughter and Sagara. Among the pillows on the floor, Yahiko was asleep, his forehead damp but his breathing even.

Dr. Gensai explained. “The boy will be alright in a few days. Who wrote the prescription? It was perfect, they must have studied at a Western university.”

There was a moment’s pause before Sagara gave her up. “A woman named Takani.”

“Takani? From Aizu?”

Now that Koshijiro thought about it, her accent had a trace of the mainland’s northern provinces. “Do you know her?”

“Not personally. The Takani clan is famous for being physicians, men and women alike. I heard that the last head of the family, Takani Ryuusei, sent his children to one of the new Western institutes in Nagasaki. He was courageous enough to leave his province. Then, Aizu fell; the two of you were probably too young to remember, but you do, Koshijiro.”

He nodded once. He hadn’t been part of the subjugating forces sent by the government, but he and Kyoko had mourned how many had died in the rebellion. “And I’m sure the Takani family had plenty of work on their hands.”

“They did. Takani Ryuusei died on the battlefield, his wife and sons went missing in a fire. But I heard his daughter was in Tokyo, although the doctor she worked for had an ill reputation. He was murdered by gangsters, and no one had seen her since.” Takani-san must have been that daughter, but how had she come to manufacture opium, instead of saving lives?

Then, Kaoru stood, saying grudgingly. “I should thank her. Wait, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her since you came here.”

Sagara started. “She couldn’t have escaped again? I’ll check inside.”

“We’ll look outside.” Koshijiro offered, and Kaoru followed him.

The yard was still empty, but there were voices from beyond the destroyed gate. Himura was further along the road, perhaps to stop Takani from leaving again. She was crying, looking more like the lonely young woman she was.

“I just wanted to continue working as a doctor.” She sobbed. Evidently, Himura had also discovered her past. “I thought, if I did, my family would find me. But…it’s been ten years, and nothing. And the doctor here made opium, before Kanryuu came.” She spat out the name. “Now I’m making opium for him instead. I tried to escape, even into death.”

The loss of her family and livelihood had driven her to desperation, yet her suicide attempt had failed. She had been lost for many years, without a true sense of purpose. Koshijiro pitied her, and it seemed his daughter did as well, pensively observing the conversation.

“However, for these three years, you produced the opium at a minimum. Yes, there were victims, but not as many as there could have been. You took on this burden, and now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. And you are alive.” Himura replied. “We will do our best to protect you and after that, you can find your own way to live on. There are many people who you could help, with your expertise. That is the only way you can atone, Takani-dono.”

Kaoru spoke up, relenting. “You saved Yahiko, and we have you to thank. The least we can do is give you a place to stay. Just for now.”

Takani wiped at her eyes, before bowing her head. “Thank you.”

For the moment, it had all ended well and Koshijiro couldn’t complain. A brisk wind blew, and he quietly said. “It’s been a long night. We should all go inside.”

Together, the four of them returned to the warmth of the house. But Sagara did not greet Takani, his expression still guarded.

#rurouni kenshin #fanfic #kamiya koshijiro #at arm's length #yup it's the opium arc