Don't own Rurouni Kenshin or Sword Art Online, just the plot.

I assume that anyone reading this has seen/read Sword Art Online, as I won't elaborate much on the timeline or events that don't influence Kenshin. Assume everything I leave out happened as in SAO canon. Or isn't interesting enough to read.

Am also assuming my readers know what I'm talking about with the Hiten Mitsurugi and Seijuurou Hiko.

ENJOY!

"I am sure that all of you have noticed that the logout button has been removed from the main menu. I assure you that this is not a bug in the system."

The light of a lone lantern shone on a slender silhouette. The trees of the park rustled in a nightly wind and several pale moths flittered towards some white flowers that only just had started to bloom, opening while the rising of the moon gained strength. It would have been a sight of captivating beauty. Instead he felt like how he'd imagined an insect to feel when gazing at needle-shaped teeth from within a Venus Flytrap. Caught. Trapped. And about to be slowly digested by his prison.

"There is no longer any method to revive someone within the game."

Head in his hands, Himura Kenshin, now known by his in-game name Battousai, tried to convince himself this was all a horrible dream. As time continued to pass as if nothing had happened, despair feasted on that hope. And yet, it was the only explanation that made sense.

"There is only one means of escape: complete the game."

It hadn't sunk in yet. Even hours later, he couldn't quite belief he was trapped along with ten thousand others. Well, less than ten thousand if Kayaba was accurate about the deaths.

Kenshin took a shuddering breath. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break something, preferably the system keeping them trapped. If wishes were horses we could swamp all of Aincrad. Which, obviously, was not happening.

You're panicking.

Why yes, he believed he was. Who wasn't? He didn't know fighting. He barely knew how to swing a blade. Holding a shinai and stepping a precise form for whacking someone on the head counted for nothing in a death game. And being a beginner he never really got around to sparring.

I won't be turning up for kendo for a while…

And wasn't that a cheerful thought? That had been expensive and a history student didn't have much to spend to begin with. Not that he'd be spending anything anytime soon. Except maybe the virtual equivalent of money. Which reminded him he had to figure out how things worked here.

He rubbed his face in a vain attempt to dispel the weariness, as if it was some grime that could be rubbed off. He called forth his menu, glad he'd at least figured that one out during the so called 'tutorial'. He regretted wasting time sightseeing but how on earth could he have known?

He sighed and looked at the transparent screen and the number it displayed. The sum seemed so small. Inadequate. But it would have to do. With some effort he heaved himself off the bench and wandered into a random street in search of a place to either sleep or continue thinking without chance of being disturbed.

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Kenshin blinked at a heavy wooden beam holding up a stone ceiling. Weird. Normally his sight was blurred by sleep when he woke up. Also weird was that he didn't recognize the sight above him, nor was there an alarm playing an annoying tune next to his head. He slowly sat up and looked around.

The room was very plain, bordering on barren. Bare walls made of the same smooth grey stone as the ceiling and floor. A simple wooden bed with nondescript white bedding, and a wardrobe and nightstand in the same style. A small cracked mirror hung on the wall and a crudely woven rug was on the floor.

It took a long moment for his brain to wake up fully and recall how he ended up here.

His face fell, yesterday's reality finally crashing in. Throwing off the blanket he got up and walked to the mirror. His own face stared back at him, the tiny imperfections from the real world erased from the virtual representation of his face. No sleepy eyes, no tangled hair, no imprints from the creases in his pillow. Idly he wondered it that also meant no need for brushing his teeth. He might have appreciated the lack of hassle if it wasn't a reminder of the battle of life or death Kayaba had trapped them in.

Which reminded him he needed to learn how to fight as soon as possible. He'd had a plan for that when he bought the game, figuring he might as well see if one of his hobbies would count for something here. He'd even practiced a little bit, before Kayaba's insane announcement, so he knew he could earn money and items by defeating – 'killing' didn't feel right under the circumstances – monsters.

Trouble was, he barely knew anything else about the game, except that his sword would glow when getting in certain positions and somehow make his attacks more effective.

But he knew something about Sword Styles. And he had come here in the hope to revive one.

He had found it in a part of the library storage that hadn't been touched in years. It had intrigued him. A style of legends. Written down by one of the few masters, Seijuurou Hiko; real name unknown, to preserve his style even when there were no wielders. Seijuurou Hiko, who was as legendary as his style thanks to assumed immortality. But the manuscript had explained that the name was more a title than the name of a single person. Every master of the Hiten Mitsurugi had called himself that. Hiten Mitsurugi, the Sword of the Heavens, the style whose techniques he had wished to reconstruct within the game. He still would, but now for far more dire reasons.

For without it, I might not survive.

A tremor of fear passed through his heart. He took a deep breath. Time to start practicing then.

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It was vexing how difficult it had been to find a blade that somewhat resembled a katana. In the end he had found a relatively straight scimitar which had cost quite a bit more that he'd initially been willing to pay. He consoled himself by reminding himself of the admittedly very favorable stats according to the free guide book he'd managed to pick up. The book was his greatest find and had explained everything he had wanted to know, and quite a bit he hadn't but still found very useful.

Like the skill slots. It had taken him most of the day to decide which were the most important – fighting skills he'd ranked first and instruments last; honestly, who'd have time for music in a game of death? – and he'd decided on «One-handed Curved Blade» and «Acrobatics» as both were vital components of the Hiten Mitsurugi.

He even had found a good spot. Secluded, out of sight, and one weak mob spawning far away enough to stay out of the way until he was ready.

So now all that was left was putting his memory to the test.

Kenshin took a deep breath and brought the first form before his mind's eye, the inked figures depicting the motions sharp and clear after hours of analyzing them and animating them in his head. How odd how his pointless fascination for Seijuurou Hiko's manuscript might mean he got a chance at actually surviving this game. Hell, if he managed to master it he might even be able to aid the process of ending it!

Calm. Deep breath. That was the future, and a hopelessly optimistic future at best. He had to be in the here and now, so the kata would be flawless. It had to be flawless, if not for his life then only to pay homage to the Style.

Mind in the present, he moved.

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That, Kenshin thought, was too close.

How close, he didn't want to know. Beneath him the tree swayed in the cool breeze, making him tighten his grip on the branch he sat on. He didn't dare look at his health bar, but carefully took a potion from his inventory. He knew he was in the red.

He grimaced. It would be a while before he had his health back. He didn't look down as he didn't wish to be reminded of the pack of wolves beneath him, now that his weapon was gone. The sound of shattering usually evoked a feeling of victory, but this time it had been as if someone poured ice water down his back. How he'd been foolish enough not to keep an eye on the durability he couldn't figure out, but it had been a good wake-up call.

Wish it'd called a little earlier.

Slowly he started to scroll through his inventory, dread like an icy stone in his stomach. He didn't remember buying a spare blade, which, proven by the situation he had gotten himself in, was Stupid. With a capital S.

And deadly, if he couldn't find something suitable among the many drops.

He hit the end of his list and felt like crying. Nothing. Damn it.

His only hope would be someone passing by and willing to help him out, but as this was a remote part of the forest the chance of that was close to nonexistent.

Maybe the wolves will go away on their own?

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Many hours later he had to conclude they didn't. Oh, some had left, sure, but always a few remained to keep watch. They had smelled weakness and refused to let prey escape. And Kenshin knew they were faster. Slightly, but unfortunately enough to make a meal out of him.

Kenshin shivered. He'd been stuck here all day and evening was falling. His food was gone, he was miles away from safety and he was really starting to get tired. The only reason he wasn't aching from cramp on top of that was because he was still inside a virtual reality.

And, despite the looming death, he was bored out of his skull. He had climbed around a bit to get a look of his surroundings, but staring at forest had gotten old quite fast. Birds had been more interesting, but they only made him feel a poisonous jealousy. The squirrels were better. They couldn't fly away from their problems either.

And there went another one, hop, hop, hop, from branch to branch, sometimes making magnificent leaps. It was like watching acrobats.

Wish I could do that with «Acrobatics», Kenshin thought mournfully as one made a particularly spectacular jump from one tree to another. Wolves can't climb.

It was like turning a kaleidoscope. One moment an unsolvable mess, the other the tiniest hint of hope.

Mobs kept to their assigned areas. And there was forest till the very edge of the great plain around Starting City. Mobs on the plains were slow to attack. And he could outrun most by now.

A few moments later the wolves stirred on their watch, as if smelling their prey was about to do something suicidal.

Attempting to gauge the distance from his tree to another, Kenshin tried to ignore them.

I'm insane. Crazy. Utterly nuts.

But what choice did he have?

Taking a deep breath he carefully got in position. Bend forward. If this goes wrong I'm dead.

He ran.

Step, step, step, jump!-

Like the squirrel, he used the thick branch as run-up, and then as springboard. Leaves rustled like a storm wind. Beneath him the wolves howled angrily.

It worked! A shock went through his legs as he landed on another thick branch. He almost slipped, but some panicked flailing with his arms restored his balance. Now keep up the momentum!

Heart in his throat, he looked for the next place to jump from. Running again, small jumps prelude to a bigger one. And leap!-

The wolves gave chase.

He gasped as his foot slipped on a treacherous piece of moss and grabbed a nearby branch. For a moment it seemed the chase was over, but then he managed to get his feet back under him. Stay steady…

All too often quick reflexes were all that kept him from plummeting to his death. But after a while he started to get the feel for when to watch his footing and when to look ahead to plan the next series of leaps. The pack didn't like his lack of lethal clumsiness.

After a mile or so he could finally breathe a bit easier. He'd crossed to border of the wolves' territory and now they were withdrawing. Having no mobs hot on his heels was heaven for his strained nerves.

Not that he would take the road now. He didn't want to invite other mobs to have a try.

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Kenshin had never been so happy to see his ugly, plain room as that night. Near death experiences were a wonderful way to put things in perspective. Cold stone really wasn't that terrible when you almost got eaten.

He'd have loved to just crash, but his nerves were still too jittery to sleep. At the same time he was almost drunk with relief. I got away. Nearly died but got away anyway. He had to remember to keep practicing his squirrel-escape-route. I'm alive!

First thing in the morning, he vowed, he'd go looking for two good swords. He'd never go anywhere without a spare again.

Idly he started scrolling through his menu. His inventory was almost full. He'd have to sell stuff as well.

Tap, tap, tap, huh, who knew there were so many options? See progress, sure, why not?

«Acrobatics» two levels up in last 24 hours. 23% till next level.

Kenshin stared. «Acrobatics»hadn't leveled once in the two previous days. How on earth did this happen?

Squirrel-escape-route?

Well, it did make copious use of the skill, yes, but two levels up? With already 77% for the next fulfilled? No way.

I think I need to sleep on this, Kenshin thought wide eyed. If this was true he'd have another good reason to practice tree-jumping.

He curled up on his bed, mind racing with possibilities.

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Kenshin looked around, frowning. The whole city was full of players. So many refusing to leave the safety of Starting City's borders. Kenshin shook his head. How on earth were they supposed to beat the game if no one dared to give it a try?

Some people passed him and Kenshin felt his heart get a little lighter. One player was wearing armor and a menacing looking bardiche, and his companion carried an elegant glaive. It was obvious these two had ventured into the surrounding area of the city.

Kenshin smiled. So I'm not the only one.

Not that he'd really believed that, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

He resumed his search for the market. He was sure it was around here somewhere. At the market he'd find some NPC's to sell his drops to, and hopefully it would earn him enough for some good swords.

Turning a corner, he blinked. A whole host of people, players, as they all had the green cursor, were sitting on small mats by the side of the road, items stalled out in front of them. What on earth? Was that how you were supposed to sell stuff?

"You look surprised. First time in the market district?"

Kenshin turned to the speaker, and then looked up. A long way up. "Um…"

The tall, not to mention broad, man smiled at the look on his face. "Nice to meet you. My name is Agil."

"Ken- I mean, Battousai. You know this place well?"

The big man nodded. "Yeah. I'm trying to encourage players to step out and train, but most don't want to without improving their equipment. So I often come here to find bargains."

Agil gave him an appraising look. "You look like you started grinding a while ago, but where's your weapon? In your inventory?"

Kenshin grimaced. "No, it broke."

Agil whistled. "Wow, you're lucky to be alive then. Most don't have time to re-equip in the midst of fighting."

Kenshin shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't have time either."

"Then how?"

Kenshin muttered, embarrassed, "Hid in a tree."

Agil burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. It's not that it's a bad idea," he snickered. "It's just…"

Kenshin sighed. "It sounds funny."

"Very." The dark man smiled.

"Do you know a good place where I can sell my drops?"

Agil nodded. "You'll need a new weapon after that too, right?"

"Yes."

"I trade quite often. Maybe I got something that you like. What kind of weapon do you use?"

"One-handed curved blade. You're a merchant?"

"As a side job." Agil was scrolling through his inventory. "I try to do my own part in clearing this game. Get most of my merchandize from that. And help people out when I can. Most are just scared and need a helping hand to get started."

Kenshin nodded in understanding.

"Ah, got something here. Just a moment."

Bemused, Kenshin watched as Agil unrolled a small carpet on which he placed several curved blades. He reached out a hand to pick one up, but found that he couldn't lift it. "What is this thing?"

"It's a Vendor's Carpet. No object on it can be moved by anyone but the owner. Handy, no?"

Kenshin nodded, eyes gliding over the different weapons. There were four, three which fit his criteria on shape.

"What are the stats of those?"

Several long minutes of clumsy haggling on his part later, Kenshin had the blades he wanted and Agil had most of his drops. The African man was the one who got the bargain, but Kenshin didn't really care much. The man needed it if he was helping others.

And these were really nice swords.

Time to visit those towns he was talking about.

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A dash, swiftness enhanced by «Sprint» till it bordered on unnatural, and the satisfying sound of shattering. Learning the Hiten Mitsurugi had become a lot easier when he'd been able to add a new Skill.

It wasn't perfect. Hell, if Seijuurou Hiko had been alive to see him he'd probably be killed for butchering his style. But it worked, and with every battle he became a bit stronger. Already he was faster than any mob he'd met and even though he utterly failed at the more acrobatic kata – which he still lacked the speed for, not to mention situational awareness – the simple basic techniques seemed enough to confuse the creatures every time. And the fights often didn't last long enough for them to adapt.

Which was good as he still didn't want anyone to see him go flat on his face every time he botched a move. And that was way too often for his tastes. Which in turn meant he had to completely rely on his own skills to get out unscathed. But he managed.

Most of the time.

Let's just say he learned to appreciate healing potions most thoroughly.

Wandering on he ran into several more mobs until the sounds of distant battle reached his ears, breaking him out of his routine. Curious Kenshin went to investigate.

In the nearby clearing danced a figure in dark blue and black, wielding a one-handed sword against a group of wolves with admirable efficiency. Kenshin continued to watch the other's style, which consisted of fast chains of Sword Skills and jumping in and out of reach of the beasts. Kenshin wasn't an expert, but he could see the other rarely bothered finding the most favorable position to strike from. Anathema in Seijuurou Hiko's opinion. He surmised the other had no highly detailed manuscript written by a very demanding Sword Master as guide. He couldn't entirely suppress the tiny spark of jealousy.

Soon the battle drew to a close, the dark-clad solo-player coming out victorious. As the last opponent shattered into polygons the player finally noticed the spectator in the trees. Kenshin guessed he had his hair color to blame.

"Who are you?" he asked when he realized Kenshin wasn't going to speak first.

Jumping from the branches Kenshin bowed in traditional greeting, amused when the other blinked in surprise before hurryingly mirroring his gesture. He knew most no longer bothered to remember the mundane formalities, but as a history student he liked reminding people from time to time. And the reactions could be quite entertaining. Entertainment was rare these days.

"My name is Battousai," Kenshin answered, mindful to introduce himself by his in-game name.

"Kirito," the other responded, looking slightly surprised when he realized Kenshin was alone. Kenshin felt the same. Up close it was clear Kirito was young, barely old enough to be allowed to play even when dying hadn't been lethal.

"So," Kirito began awkwardly, "Why were you watching?"

Kenshin shrugged, feeling slightly awkward himself. "I heard fighting and got curious. You use Sword Skills well."

"Thanks…" the other raised a brow. Kenshin didn't respond, self-conscious. He wasn't about to tell a complete stranger he liked traveling by tree because it simultaneously trained his «Acrobatics» and his situational awareness. Kirito nodded, acknowledging his wish to remain silent.

They took the re-spawning of the wolves as a good excuse to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. They didn't speak as they fought, but afterwards some tension had been expelled with the quiet teamwork. Enough for another attempt at conversation.

"Lunch?" Kirito suggested. Kenshin smiled and agreed.

Deciding the trees offered the safest resting places they climbed onto a thick branch and amiably sat together as they ate their bread. Kirito had some very nice cream to put on the bread and Kenshin in return contributed some apples he'd found that morning. It was quite relaxing.

"So why did you become a solo player?" Kenshin asked, curious.

Kirito looked uncomfortable. "In the Beta I played solo all the time. I don't really know how to work with a group. And with the chance of death…" the teen trailed off , wary eyes daring Kenshin to comment. The redhead just shrugged. The Beta testers had written and regularly updated the guide book, and there was only so much a small group of players could do for the whole. He knew enough history not to hold it against them. He told Kirito so.

A relieved smile took some of the seriousness out of his face as shoulders lost some of the tension. Kenshin couldn't blame the teen for being worried. He heard some of the less flattering comments regarding the Beta testers. If things got much worse the whole situation could get out of hand dangerously fast.

"You know," he added, "I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, alright?"

"Thanks." Kirito nodded, losing a bit more tension. "Why did you go solo? You aren't a Beta tester, now are you?"

"I'm trying to reconstruct a Sword Style. And don't really enjoy people watching me practice. I fail a lot." Kenshin answered, feeling a bit embarrassed. It sounded a bit silly when said out loud. Kirito hummed in understanding.

Not long after they parted to continue their leveling in solitude. But not before Kenshin got Kirito to accept the friend invitation. Kenshin felt a bit better after the young teen promised to send a message when he needed someone to talk to. Not that he was that much younger but it just didn't feel right to leave the boy without offering anything. At least this way he could keep tabs on the other solo player.

Idly he wondered whether he should go to the First Floor Boss Strategy conference. But no, his version of the Hiten Mitsurugi wasn't good enough for a Boss battle yet. He'd only get in the way.

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"That blasted Beater! I still can't believe the gall of that guy!"

Kenshin sighed inaudibly. The discussion behind him had been going on for ages. Well, discussion wasn't the right word. Pity-party for five? Verbal anger venting? Anyway, it had become old ten minutes in. And they were well past the twenty minutes point now. He understood things hadn't been ideal during the First Floor Boss raid, but to keep stressing it…

"Who is this Beater?"

Apparently not everyone shared his opinion.

"Don't know his name, but it's a kid. He wore black pants and a blue shirt, but now got a black coat to go along with it, a Last Attack bonus. Real short. Wields a one-handed sword without shield. And you wouldn't believe his arrogance. Just after Diabel died too!"

Sword, black and blue, short… Kirito?

No, probably not. Kirito hadn't been comfortable admitting he had been in the Beta, even when he suspected Kenshin had been too. So why would he in front of a whole raid party? It was unlikely.

Kenshin shook his head and paid his meal. Time to return to practice.

Last Attack bonus: exactly what it says. The bonus you get when your attack is the one to kill the Boss. The bonus includes a Rare Drop. In Kirito's case the Coat of Midnight.

Please review! This is my first crossover, so I want to know what you think!