"Land," Kaoru said faintly, sandal tracing patterns in the dust of the path leading to Ishimura with a sigh of relief.

Kenshin rubbed her back, still disturbed. "I thought you did not get seasick, koishii."

"I don't. Usually." Kaoru gave him a wan smile. "Maybe it's just that we had to take more than one boat, so close together."

"I suppose it must be." There was certainly nothing wrong with her ki; it glowed beside him, warm and welcome. And they had originally planned to leave their borrowed vessel and spend some quiet time in Yokohama, resting and regrouping before they tried to determine their next move. A plan that had shattered with their first sight of the local newspapers.

Ghosts of Revolution spotted in Yokohama Harbor! a lurid headline had screamed.

"Scratch that idea," Sano had commented dryly.

So now they were trailing Benkai and the others on their way into Ishimura, bringing enspelled eggs and one small stone statue to a place they might find homes. Life out of death, Kenshin thought with a smile. At least we have done this much.

Although he could not say he was truly looking forward to dealing with a whole clan of creatures like Demona.

They helped raise Benkai, Kenshin reminded himself, deliberately not reacting as the first villagers caught sight of his hair and the whispers began. They cannot be truly evil.

"...Gaijin..."

He felt Battousai stir at that whisper, then reluctantly subside. It wasn't a threat. Yet.

"Enomouto Benkai." Iemochi Shige, the gray-haired village headman of Ishimura; still straight and tall, but leaning on a crutch for a leg that had once, so Benkai said, been caught between a boulder and the rising sea. "Your family said you were... away."

Which was a reasonably civil way of asking what the hell a young private was doing AWOL all the way from Korea, Kenshin reflected. With fortune, Aoshi's contacts will work soon, he thought. We've enough trouble without the young man needing to flee for desertion.

"Well..." Benkai whipped a concealing rug off a small, furry stone form. "That's a long story."

"...So as far as we know, once you touch them with this seal, the spell will be broken and the eggs will hatch," young Benkai concluded, kneeling before the clan and village leaders.

Hmm. Not so young anymore, Tomi thought, grateful his skills with sword instead of claw left him standing as one of clan leader Uyeda's quiet guards in the shadows. Once you got past a hundred and ten, the bones got a bit creaky for kneeling in council, that they did.

Not to mention that from the shadows, he could watch his former pupil to his heart's content. So you've finally found the teacher you needed, the elderly red gargoyle thought, hiding a smile. A youkai's own mate.

Good. It's been too long since our youngsters had a real challenge.

The blue-eyed swordswoman might have taken her place as Benkai's sensei, but there was no doubt her demon husband had staked his own claim on the young man's spirit. The changed flow of ki around the young swordsman was unmistakable, fresh and delicate as a spring breeze. Eventually Benkai would learn to conceal it, but for now - ah, for now it was pleasant just to sense.

Another soul has embraced the blade, Tomi thought, pleased. But how did they win you to it? Your heart has ever been too kind for Bushido. You were a farmer born, not samurai or gargoyle. We fight because it is what we are. You could only fight for- He stifled a scowl at the indignity of it. -Another's life.

Yet if his elders' teachings were true, it was the most innocent who could be corrupted the deepest. Those who would not fight for honor lacked the mortal darkness that would balance their souls. If they did fight, if they were driven to that last extreme and killed to defend another... ah, then the demon power might well find its way into their spirits. And once youki nested in a mortal soul, it would take a miko of legend to pry it out once more.

Samurai do not become youkai. Goblins, perhaps - if their treachery and dishonor is great - but not youkai. Uyeda has no idea what peril kneels before him.

Again, good. The youngsters needed a good shaking-up. Modern times, they said. The dangers of the Tokugawa Shogunate are long past, they said. The legends of the Sengoku Jidai are only that - legends, past and done.

Hmph. They'd learn.

"So far as you know?" Uyeda said sternly. The gargoyle clan leader had a face fierce as an oni's, wild black hair wreathing his horns before a silken hair-tie forced it back into a proper topknot.

Benkai swallowed nervously. "Well, we didn't want to try it on the boat..."

"Wise," Uyeda commented, settling sky-blue wings over slate-gray shoulders. The clan leader lost his grim expression for just an instant, trading a quick wink with Shige out of Benkai's view. "Well. I'd say we have much to discuss, Iemochi-san."

"Indeed." Shige looked equally stern, as if he were a breath away from ordering the whole lot of them clapped in irons. "Perhaps we should take tea."

A few more bland pleasantries, and the bulk of the meeting dispersed. Tomi raised a ridged brow at his clan leader, took Uyeda's quiet nod as permission to go.

I have a youkai to track down.

It was surprisingly easy. All he had to do was follow hatchlings' laughter; human and gargoyle alike.

"Okita Souji!" Tomi recognized young Fudo's voice, serious as a seven-year-old going on eight could be. "Squad leader of the Shinsengumi! We have you now!"

"Ah; but a wolf of Mibu is not so easily captured!" Red hair blazed above paired sticks as they swooped like swords, parrying and thrusting at his mob of attackers.

Gentle blows, but accurate, Tomi noted with approval. All of these children had some training with the blade; it'd be an insult to them and their teachers if this stranger deliberately fought badly...

The pattern of thrusts caught his trained eye, and Tomi drew in a sharp breath. Gatotsu. He's not just playing the enemy - he's fighting as a Shinsengumi!

"Not his preferred style," the lean, wolf-like man who called himself Fujita Goro noted, appearing at Tomi's side with barely a ripple in the surrounding ki. "But they did ask him to play the villain." Irony wafted from his tone, thick and bitter as the smoke of his cigarette.

"But why would Bat-"

Wolf-yellow eyes choked the name in Tomi's throat. "How many of you know?" Goro asked quietly.

"I doubt most of the younger ones would believe, if I told them," Tomi said dryly. "When I was hatched, youkai... well, they weren't common, but most people saw them at least once in their lifetime. These days, all I can think is that they're dead or hiding." He measured Fujita with wise eyes. "Or hiding in plain sight."

"As much as Himura can hide anywhere," Fujita said, just as dry. "Shinomori and I have places to go, but I doubt Takani or the rooster-head are going to let Himura out of their sight. How many secrets can your village conceal?"

Tomi took in the policeman's uniform, the stance that said samurai, and felt himself set at ease. This man knows the old ways. If he can survive in this new Japan... we can as well. "How hard are they looking for him?"

"They shouldn't be. It was known for a long time that he was failing; the damn fool almost did die. And given the circumstances, no one should have suspected anything when his son burned the bodies unviewed."

"Disease?" Tomi tried not to gape; it'd be undignified in a gargoyle of his years. "A youkai?"

"Ryuu-hanyou. And Benkai can tell you about the curse." A lupine smile shadowed Fujita's features as the redhead fell to laughing bodies. "Well?"

"Uyeda-san will have to know," Tomi said firmly, as Kaoru waded into the fray to rescue her husband. "But I am interested in Kamiya-sensei's techniques. We're not attacking castles anymore. Perhaps a master of katsujin-ken might honor us with a sojourn in our dojo, so we might all advance our knowledge of the Way."

"Perhaps." Fujita drew in a breath of smoke. "It's likely they'll have visitors here within a few weeks. One in particular." Gray wisps vanished into night. "Do yourselves a favor. Make sure they meet somewhere expendable."

"Sanosuke!" Stepping up onto the engawa of the small house on the edge of this odd village, Yahiko caught the older man in a bruising hug, grinning until it felt like his face would split. Damn, I'm almost as tall as he is, now! "Gods, they found you..."

"Yeah, the fox-woman tied me up and hauled me home," the fighter said plainly, scruffing up his hair. "She'll come when she can, but she's working partners with the local doctor, Oisha, and they've got a birth going on the other side of the village. Could take all night." He looked past the young master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, to the small redhead with the sakabatou at his side. "Damn. Knew there'd be a resemblance, but this - something else. Kenji? I guess you probably don't remember me..."

"Uncle - Sano?" The youngest master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu looked even younger than his age. "You were so much bigger - erk!"

"You're okay. You're really okay." Sano held Kenji tightly. "When your mother told me what was going on, you tracking down Hiko, facing off with Yahiko... I was worried about you, kid. Had to get the temper from both sides of the family - you've got luck as bad as your father, I swear-"

"He's here," Kenji said flatly. "I can feel him."

Sano reluctantly let go, stepping back to meet dark blue eyes. "Would it help if I told you I know he's sorry?"

One pale fist clenched. "What do you think?"

Yahiko winced. "He had reasons, Kenji-"

"Then he can keep them!" the young redhead flared. "I'm here to see 'Kaasan. To make sure she's okay. I don't need to hear his reasons-"

"I would that were so," a long-lost, familiar voice said quietly. "But you must. Both of you."

Kenshin. Yahiko moved forward without thinking, heading for the one place in the world that had always been safe. Hair like a maple leaf flowing downstream, a cross-shaped scar, eyes peaceful wells of violet...

The small swordsman returned his embrace, ki touching his like a ripple of rainwater. I know you. I care for you.

I love you.

"Nice trick," Kenji said bitterly. "Too bad for you it won't work on someone who knows Hiten Mitsurugi..." He got his first good look, and stepped back, hand on his hilt.

"It is no trick." Kenshin released Yahiko, movements deliberately slow, unthreatening. "As I have said. There are things you must know." He glanced at the horizon. "But only within walls."

"And so, you both likely have youkai blood in your veins," Kenshin concluded, staring into his cooling tea. "Blood that puts you at risk, whenever lives and swords clash. A risk I felt, but did not know... and so I wandered, praying not to draw the death that seemed to follow me to you, Kenji." He bowed his head. "I was wrong."

"You think that's it?" His son's voice was firm, strong. Only his ki betrayed his turmoil. "You think that's enough?"

"Kenji-" Yahiko tried to intervene.

"No!" Kenji smacked his cup down. "You could have stayed. You could have tried."

Kaoru's eyes narrowed. "Kenji, that's enough!"

"You're still defending him? Haha-ue, I can't believe you're still defending him! Just because he didn't think he could stay around without shedding blood again - you could have taught me, both of you! Japan's at peace, now; I'm not going to kill anyone."

"You're not listening, damn it!" Sano jumped in.

"I am listening! I'm just not him! Just because he lost himself to this - this demon bloodlust when he was fourteen because he was enough of an idiot to become an assassin-"

"Eight," Kenshin said quietly. "I... lost myself... when I was eight."

The knot of argument stilled; Sano's hand locked in Kenji's blue gi, his son's fingers knotted in the fighter's wild black hair. "Say what?" Sano said at last.

Kenshin set his cup down, not trusting his hands. "When I was near seven, cholera swept our village," he began. "Many sickened and died. My parents among them. I... I not only survived, I did not even fall ill. It was - unnatural. Inhuman. And so, when the orphans of the village were taken in by those who had lost their children... there was no place for me." He shrugged, trying not to feel. It is over. It is done. "The village needed money for those families that remained. I was exotic. Possibly worth something, in places which cater to those with such... tastes. And so I was sold."

"Kenshin." Kaoru pressed a hand to her lips.

"I was fortunate," Kenshin went on deliberately. "I was worked hard, like everyone in the caravan, but the slavers did not receive an enticing enough offer. Though that might have changed, had they reached Kyoto... but the bandits attacked us first."

I can see it like yesterday...

"I didn't know what the screams were, at first. But I felt them. Burning. Enticing. Confusing. I was - pulled. And repelled. I didn't know what was happening to me. I could only feel, and shake, as if the ground under me carried the rumble of an avalanche..."

The scent of jasmine came with the warmth of a chin on his shoulder, as Kaoru wrapped her arms around him.

"And then they were on us, and it burned. Sakura, Kasumi, Akane... they needed someone. They needed a sword. My sword...

"But they would not let me kill. They protected me. With their own lives. Long enough for Hiko to happen on the massacre, and kill every bandit that stood against him." Kenshin closed his eyes. "And from that day forward, something in me has always sought the taste of blood."

Silence. Broken only by a sharp, hurt breath from Yahiko, the first ripple of dawning belief in Kenji's ki.

"Iidzuka asked me, after my first kill, if I could bear it," Kenshin said in a low whisper. "I told him I felt - nothing. And it was true, in a way. I felt - quieted. Still. The burning within me, the fire that had always burned, since that day, that grew to the point of pain before I argued with Hiko and left his teachings... it eased. Burned lower. Cooler. Until the next black envelope came, and I knew it was time to kill again..."

"Kenshin, stop it!" Kaoru held him fiercely. "It's over. You're not him anymore!"

"That time is over, yes, beloved. The assassin is dead." Kenshin met deep blue eyes; so like Kaoru's, so like his own. "But a hitokiri is a hitokiri until death. And that curse, that choice, lies in your very blood. There were always those who hunted me; if I had been forced to face them, to kill them, near you-" Fists clenched, he looked away.

Cloth rustled. Soft footfalls echoed on the polished floor. "Father."

Kenshin wrapped an arm around his son, leaning into the sudden lack of anger in Kenji's ki. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But... understanding.

More than I had ever hoped for.

Reluctantly, Kenji pulled back. "I - took care of things in Tokyo, but I can't stay away from Kyoto too much longer," he started awkwardly.

"There's a girl," Yahiko said dryly.

"Yahiko!"

"Is she cute?" Sano stuck in.

"Uncle Sano!"

"I should've picked another husband. He blushes as easily as you do." Kaoru disentangled herself, hand still resting on Kenshin's. "If you have to go, Kenji, go and be safe. Just make sure you can make it back here in... oh, about seven months."

"Seven months?" Kenshin drew back enough to give her a good look. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a certain disquieting tanuki mischief in her smile.

"After all," Yes, definitely mischief in that grin, "You ought to make a good niisan."

Niisan. Bright ki. Morning sickness...

"Oro!"

Thump.

Hard floor. Very hard.

"Did he just...?" Kenji stammered.

"You should've seen him when she told him about you," Yahiko said wryly. "Breakfast. Tofu and rice everywhere. At least this time there weren't any knives on the floor when he hit it!"

Owari

Gaijin - foreigner. Not a polite term.

Haha-ue - (One's own) mother.

Owari - end.