Rurouni Kenshin © Not mine. If it was, things would play out very differently.

AN: Series AU inspired by Edge of the Blade by tag0. Thanks for letting me play in your sandbox!

A couple of notes – this is very AU. This is also shonen-ai. There are not enough good fics for this pairing, so I'm adding my voice. There will also be a small amount of Japanese terms thrown in, and as always, as I don't speak Japanese, if I misuse a suffix or a word, please let me know and I'll correct it.

Also, I have no internet access anymore. So I'm typing up chapters, but I can't post them on a regular basis. I'll make up for this by posting multiple chapters in one go.

0

Despite the location in downtown Kyoto, the inn is quiet, which is exactly what Himura Kenshin wants. It's late enough in the night, and the keeper has been paid handsomely for his silence. If everything goes according to plan, by morning Himura the Battousai will vanish from Japan.

If he can figure out how to hide. He contemplates his reflection in the polished metal that passes as a mirror. The flame-like hair, violet eyes, and cross-shaped scar are all very distinctive. He can't do anything about the eyes – as long as they don't shift to amber, no one should notice. The hair definitely has to go. The scar if he can.

He raises his tanto, considering, but a voice behind him stops him.

"That's not going to work."

Himura glances behind him. Saitou Hajime stands there, swords at his side but arms crossed over his chest in a non-threatening pose. Himura has to smile. He was almost expecting the wolf to show up tonight. "Still too obvious?" he asks, and it's all the invitation Saitou needs to step fully inside and join him at the makeshift mirror.

"Very much so. The color needs to be covered up, and with more than a hat." He pulls a packet from his belt and passes it off to Himura. "Henna should do the trick."

That earns him an arched eyebrow. "Making good use of your contacts?"

"My last favor to cash in. Besides, if you bought it, they would know exactly what you're using it for." Saitou examines his own reflection for a moment, but he's not quite as distinctive as Himura is. For him, vanishing will take only a minimal amount of effort. "Even without the hair, it will be hard for you to disappear. Unless you no longer intend to wield a sword."

It's a jab at a conversation they had a long time ago, when Himura came out of the shadows and started fighting openly instead of as a hitokiri. Himura wonders, absently, how the Imperialist leaders never learned that their best assassin was actually friends with the leader of the third Shinsengumi squad. That really should have been obvious, considering. Or at least, Himura figured it was. After all, tonight isn't the first night they've had civilized conversation without holding swords on each other.

"A hitokiri is a hitokiri until the day he dies." Himura retorts gamely. "But I have planned for that as well." He pulls his sword from his obi and hands it to Saitou. The tall swordsman draws it enough to see the edge – or complete lack of one. Himura smirks. "Hard to follow a non-existent trail of bodies, don't you think?"

"A sakabato?" Saitou hands it back to him. "Well, it's definitely not Battousai. That alone should confuse everyone." There's an odd tone to his voice, like he can't tell whether to be disgusted with the idea or grudgingly impressed.

Himura decides to change the topic. "What about you? You know how I plan to hide, but if you want to go unrecognized, you're going to need to cut your hair. Probably in a Western style."

Now that's definitely disgust that crosses Saitou's face at that. "Do you know any styles?"

Himura flashes him a grin. "You help me, I'll help you."

Saitou rolls his eyes. "That's your fault for having such thick hair." Still, he takes the henna from him, settles in behind the small swordsman, and gets to work.

By the time they're done, Himura has rust brown hair tied back in a short ponytail, and all of Saitou's hair has been cut off and stands on end. Himura checks his reflection again and sighs. Saitou smirks and lights a cigarette. "It works."

Himura snags the cigarette from him and takes a hit before giving it back. "The scar."

"The women may know how to hide it, but I wouldn't worry. It's not common knowledge." Saitou stands and brushes the hair from his hakama. "Himura – be careful."

"Worried about me, Saitou?"

"I did not waste this time just so you could get killed later. You know what they did to Makoto."

Himura sighs. "I know. I imagine that's why we're both doing this. Right now, it's safer to vanish before they decide we're all a liability." He looks up from the floor and the pile of hair, violet eyes burning into Saitou's. "You be careful as well. The only one allowed to kill you is me."

A slow, sharp grin spreads across Saitou's face. "Likewise, Himura. I will see you again."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

By the time the sun rises, there is no evidence of the two men in sight.