Author Notes: I haven't written anything in a while, and with school out I decided to write a quick vignette. This fanfic is a lot more involved than I thought it was going to be, but oh well. I don't plan to continue this either, so it will solely be a stand-alone. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Rurouni Kenshin world and all characters depicted are a creation of mangaka, Watsuki Nobuhiro.

Expiration Date

By Hoshi-ni-Onegai

I have a gift -or so I've been told.

I was born with my gift, but I didn't realize I had it until I was six years old.

My mother thought I was a small boy with an overactive imagination. She didn't think twice about my constant questions.

Why did everyone have numbers on the back of their necks? What did the numbers mean? Why don't you believe me?

Numbers. So many numbers. Six cleanly printed digits, as if tattooed at the base of everyone's neck. Two digits, dash, another two digits, dash, the final two digits. So many numbers, but with no apparent meaning.

No apparent meaning until my mother and father died. On February 17, 1987.

02-17-87. Those numbers had glared at me for the beginning of my life. Neatly printed on my parents' necks. After that, I knew. There was no way not to have known.

I know the day people will die.

With no parents and no remaining family members, I was put through the system. One foster home after another. I made sure that I changed foster homes as frequently as possible. Eventually, I was put into an orphanage. I knew everyone's day of reckoning, the last thing I needed was to become emotionally attached to anyone.

In my late teens the government approached me to take a position in their undercover sector. I excelled in school, sports, and languages, but kept a low profile. As the agent had put it when he recruited me, "no one would miss me if I disappeared." If I had no other qualifications, that would be enough.

The government paid my way through university and now I work for them as a spy. Twenty-eight years old, and well into my adult life, I've learned to live with the gift.

Currently, I'm in Japan to collect information about a head of a narcotics traffic ring that decided to dabble in nuclear arms research.

Born and raised in Britain, it's a bit strange to return home to the country where your parents were born.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, I looked around the park. It was the middle of the day on a Saturday, so there was a fair amount of people wandering around. People continually glance at me -probably because of my red hair. In a sea of black tresses, I stood out like a sore thumb. Then again, my black slacks, t-shirt, and trench coat probably didn't help on the hot summer day. I look outrageously suspicious with my clothes, but I hadn't had a chance to change from the night before -when hiding in the shadows was vital for my survival.

I took another drag. The smoke filled my lungs and there was comfort in it. No matter where you went, you can kill yourself slowly with the comfort of Marlboros.

I'm supposed to make contact with my informant in fifteen minutes. I hate these meetings. In a public place where I can be a target, and I have to keep my guard up. I don't know the date on the back of my own neck. I've tried looking at it in the reflection of a mirror or in a photo, but there are no numbers. I know the world's expiration date, but not my own.

I sit down at a fountain and wait for my meeting.

A red ball hits my foot and I pick it up. A small girl with pigtails runs up to me and looks at me precariously. I put in my best effort for a smile. She accepts my weak attempt and smiles back. I hand her the ball. She scurries off.

Her number: 09-21-09

Her time is coming up. I see the mother that gets the small girl's attention. The mother is young and obviously dotting.

There's nothing I can do. She'll die in September and her mother will mourn. I'll remember in brief passing when the day comes for that girl. I won't mourn. Not because I don't know her, but because I've grown cold.

I've tried to prevent so many deaths, and it never changes. At the end of the day, there is nothing I can do. I'm a spectator of a movie; I can't change the ending just because I don't like it.

I look down at my watch. Ten minutes. I take another drag.

"Leave me alone Enishi!" I hear the name and turn. The water that gushes out of the fountain is in my line of vision. The voice is female and sounds annoyed, but it's the name that gets me.

Enishi, the name of the head of the narcotics ring I came to stop. I know I shouldn't get hopeful, I'm sure there is more than one Enishi in Tokyo. All I need is a shock of white hair and towering stature to confirm it.

I get up from my seat and the owner of the voice rounds the fountain. She is struggling with the man's hold on her upper arm and she is trying to pull out of it. Seeing the man, it's confirmed. He's the Enishi I came to Tokyo for. This is a highly convenient turn of events.

What caught my attention more than my target, was the struggling woman. She wasn't anything out of this world. She was wearing dark jeans and a v-neck white t-shirt. Her long black hair that shown in the sun was tied in a ponytail. But what took me back were her startling blue eyes. They were full of life but also great disdain for the man.

As she came closer she caught my eyes. A spark lit behind them and she grinned. Putting in more effort to get Enishi's arm off of hers, she pulled herself away.

"I told you it's over Enishi! I'm with someone else now." She marched her way toward me. Grinning, she waved to me like she knew who I was. "Ryan!"

Ryan? I may of red hair, but I look just as Japanese as everyone else in the park.

She swept into my comfort space and slid a graceful and delicate arm around my torso. Leaning in, she kissed the corner of my mouth. She brushes forward and she whispers into my ear, in English, "Go along with me for the next ten minutes."

I unconsciously wrap an arm in reciprocation. I can feel her lips curl into a smile next to my cheek. She turns around to address the Enishi in question.

"Enishi, I want you to meet Ryan," she said my 'name' like she's said it a million times before. She takes her place next to me, and pats my chest with her free hand. "Ryan, this is Enishi. . . my boss."

I glance down at her. She's involved with the yakuza? It's sometimes amazing how these things fall into your lap sometimes.

"Who are you kidding Saori, you don't know this guy," the guy grumbled.

He reached for her arm, but I stepped out in front of her. "I know Miss Kamikawa. So, I suggest you back off," I hide my British accent, no need to make me more memorable then need be.

Enishi frowned. She looks surprised. I smile, and bow. I take her hand and lead her away.

When we're finally out of earshot she tugs at her hand, but I keep my grip. I pull her forward so she is next to my side. "So I was right. You are Saori Kamikawa."

She frowns but doesn't try to pull away this time. "How do you know who I am?"

"Simple. Name is Saori, speaks English like an American, and involved with Enishi."

"Was involved. Biggest mistake of myself," she says the last part under her breath but I hear her. "Who are you supposed to be? What? I pick the only guy in the yakuza that actually goes to a park?"

"I'm not in the Yakuza. I'm just informed."

She narrows her eyes. I get the feeling that she's usually not left in the dark about most things. She studies me for a long moment then sighs. "It's better if I don't who you are. I can feign innocence later."

She leads me toward the street. She goes to cross the street, and I can see her long hair whishing behind her. Looking on at the traffic she sets a foot onto the street when the road is clear.

When she pulls away this time I let her hand slip out of mine. I can feel my hand burn from where her fingers whispered past my palm. Her number. It glares at me. 06-16-09. Today.

She turns her head to look at me then down at her hand. She nods, "See you around mystery man. And thanks back there."

She steps out onto the street. My eyes widen when I see a car speeding toward her.

I barely had time to think before what I did next. My hands pull her against my chest and the car careens past her. We fall back and I feel the unforgiving curb hit my head. Her back against me, I can feel her rapid heartbeat. There is a long pause where the world is slowed around us. She then rolls off me then looks down at me with her large blue eyes.

"Oh my God. You just saved my life," her eyes widened farther and she reaches for the back of my head. She pulls her hand back and I can see the blood. "You're bleeding."

I gently push her aside to sit up. I shake my head. "I'm fine. It probably looks a lot worse than it is."

Regardless of my words, her eyes are worried. Genuinely worried. I can't remember the last time someone was worried. Or if there ever was a time when someone worried after my parents died.

I push myself up off the ground. She looks up at me like a small child. I can't help but let a small smile slip. I reach my hand out. She gingerly sets her hands into mine. When I pull her up she loses her balance and falls against my chest. The wafting sent of her skin and hair fill my senses.

That needs to stop now. I'm an amateur to become attached to anyone, even more so when I know she's going to be dead by the end the day.

I straighten her and she looks searchingly. She dusts her self off and the languid gaze she previously held has steeled up. Her eyes are calculating and cold. I smile. I could keep myself busy for hours trying to just read her eyes.

I would continue trying to read her, if it wasn't for the telltale signs of my informant coming toward me. "I have to go. Nice to have met you Miss Kamikawa."

She looks at my face then toward the man approaching us. There is an inquisitive look on her face, but she doesn't pry. "Thank you for saving my life. . ."

"Kenshin."

She nods. Then turns just as the man reaches us. Before I can even acknowledge the man I'm shocked by something I have never seen before in my life.

Her long elegant neck is completely unmarked. The numbers that had unflinchingly glared at me previously are gone. Not replaced. Gone. I don't know her fate.

I can barely help myself before I reach my hand out to touch the back of her neck. She's not startled by my touch. She calmly turns to look at me and tilts her head. I'm frozen. Mesmerized.

"Sorry to ruin the mood, but I'm here to speak with the two of you," the deep voice of the man pulls us out of our world.

The tall man with dark brown spiked hair looks bored as he scratches the back of his head as he looks down at the both of us.

"I appreciate you two for getting to know each other before I get here. This makes my life easier."

I can feel her eyes on me and I reciprocate the look. We both look back to the man.

"The name's Sano. I'm the contact the two of you were supposed meet today. I'm here to set up your new found partnership."

"Partnership?" She glares at Sano, then at me. "What the hell are you?"

"MI6."

She grumbles at my answer, "Should have known. Where's your British accent?"

I let my native accent slip forward, "I told you what I am. What are you?"

She sighs and looks at Sano, "I'm assuming you're the same as me." He nods. I know what they are long before she says anything. "I'm CIA. Also, the real name's Kaoru. Not Saori -that's only a cover."

I smirk. For the first time in a really long time, my life just got interesting.