Author's Note: For Ruroken Week 2016, I wrote seven different AUs. I'll be releasing the rest over the next couple weeks. Depending on the responses/reviews, I'll decide which ones to continue and prioritize. (This does not mean I'll abandon the rest, just that they'll be tackled later.) Thanks in advance for reading!

This one is a Mulan AU, so the only differences from canon are that Kaoru takes her father's place in war and Kenshin is picked up as the army cook. Yes, Kaoru is cross-dressing, but she's referred to as 'he' since Kenshin doesn't know that. Yet.

On the first day Kenshin joined the march to Satsuma, a fight broke out. Officially, he was the cook and they were low enough on supplies for him to decide that dinner would be rice porridge. There were two hundred men to feed, and the cold weather warranted soup anyway. As he ladled the porridge into bowls, he suddenly heard an outraged voice from the line.

"How could you say that?!"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" The response was a lower drawl.

They sounded young, and Kenshin sighed as the line continued to move. Even as he began to scrape the bottom of the pot, they were still arguing. They were close enough so that the tops of their heads were visible. Then, the shorter one shoved the taller one, and hell was unleashed. The men were jostled as the pair exchanged blows, and it was no surprise the line fell apart. Kenshin quickly set the bowls aside, trying to fill the rest, when the boys were suddenly thrown against the pot. It tipped over precariously.

"Oro!" Kenshin reached for it, but his fingertips grazed the ceramic before it hit the ground.

Fortunately, the pot was nearly empty, but now, the force had reduced it to shards. Understandably, their commanding officer was not happy and assigned the troublemakers to the humiliation of dish duty. As he wrote a list of rations, Kenshin eyed the two as they scrubbed bowls and spoons in the nearby river.

"It's your fault, shrimp." The taller one grumbled. Sagara Sanosuke. He had been conscripted, to put his street fighting to use. He stood out anyway, with his sloppy uniform and stubborn insistence on wearing his headband. Just that morning, he had tried to bring a zanbato.

"You were the one who started it." The other shot back. Kamiya Kaoru. He was the smallest in their unit, perhaps fifteen years old with that smooth face, and temperamental. In some ways, he reminded Kenshin of himself. It was a little mortifying, and he looked away when Kamiya's fierce blue gaze turned on him. "Himura-san, right? Sagara here was complaining about our guns, that we should have swords instead so we can split open heads. That's cruel!"

"Well…"

"Shrimp, this is war. And you'll get it once you have to kill someone."

"I won't kill anyone." Kamiya lifted his chin. "I'm a student of Kamiya Kasshin. I've sworn to protect life, not take it."

"Sure, stick with that." Sagara snorted. "There are more important things than going home in one piece."

Kenshin jumped in. "Kamiya-dono, you are still young. What should matter most is that you survive."

"Hmph. I guess neither of you would understand." Kamiya set down the last spoon and marched off, the sunset illuminating his profile in orange. "I'm going to bed."

"Oro, Kamiya-dono, did you want your share?" He pointedly glanced at one of the remaining bowls of porridge.

"I don't!"

"I'll take it." Sagara eagerly volunteered and scarfed it down. Even as he ate his own meager dinner, Kenshin found himself in deep thought.

There was a village not too far from the encampment, and while many of the men decided to go drinking, Kenshin focused on food supplies. A new pot was at the top of the list, and because of the scarcity that accompanied winter, he could only procure that as well as pickles and rice. An elderly couple offered rice cakes to him, which he accepted. He wasn't hungry, but he was sure someone else was. After securing everything in a wagon, he slipped out two of the white circles and quietly headed to the outer edge of the group.

There was a single tent stubbornly apart from the others, and he called out. "Kamiya-dono?"

There was a startled yelp, before Kamiya's scowling face parted the tent flaps. "Oh, it's you, Himura-san. What is it?"

"Well, this one thought you would be hungry." He held up the rice cakes, and the younger boy gladly took them.

"Thank you." He answered, before devouring the first. Then, he glanced at Kenshin, his face reddening. "Um…is there anything you need?"

"This one thought about what you said earlier." He sat down on the cold ground and tucked his hands in his sleeves. "About not taking life. On the battlefield, that would be wishful thinking."

As he expected, Kamiya bit back. "What do you know? You're a cook." That wasn't entirely the case, but he decided to keep quiet, since his mission was secret after all. However, Kamiya immediately apologized. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

He gave a wry smile. "True, this one is a cook. But this one was about to say that a world without the need to kill would be pleasant."

"That's why my father founded Kamiya Kasshin."

"Was he a soldier?"

"Yes, he's a policeman now as well. This might be my first battle, but he told me enough stories. There's already enough violence in the world and not nearly as much compassion. In one day, I've already seen that, but I won't abandon my beliefs, not even when we reach Satsuma. More than anything else, I want a peaceful future, where we don't have to kill each other to get what we want."

"That may be tested in the next few months. However, this one likes that idea very much." He said sincerely.

The younger boy chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, before tearing the remaining rice cake in half and handing one portion to Kenshin. "Here."

"Oro?"

Kamiya's mouth twitched in amusement. "Yes, it's for you, so take it before I change my mind." Reluctantly, he did, and the denseness was satisfying. A sigh reached his ears. "It would be nice to have tea."

"That would be nice." He agreed and glanced above him. "Otherwise, are you alright? It is not easy, to be conscripted and sent far from home."

"Well, I wasn't conscripted." Kamiya said and continued at Kenshin's surprised face. "My father was hurt in the Boshin War, and his leg never fully recovered. So, I came in his place."

"Oro? He approved of that?"

"…not exactly."

"Then, this one will keep it a secret. This one doesn't have family, but your loyalty to your father is admirable and this one respects that." He said and finished off the rice cake half.

Kamiya nodded, seemingly searching for words. In the end, he gave up and changed the subject. "You don't have a family?"

"This one has been alone for a long time." A little over ten years would be practically unfathomable to Kamiya, yet he had lived it. Maybe, he was starved for human warmth and it was why he was still here, talking to someone almost half his age.

"Himura isn't too common of a name." He swallowed the remainder of his half. "I heard your given name was Kenshin. Can I call you that? I mean, only if you want. I didn't mean to intrude." Kamiya added; he must have noticed the unconscious flinch.

"No, don't mind this one. It has been a while since this one has heard his name, Kamiya-dono, but this one would like that."

"Kenshin." His voice was gentle, like a child's.

"Yes?" He would have to get used to hearing his name again, but with Kamiya, it wouldn't take long.

"I swear I won't get into another fight."

He laughed and stood, brushing bits of grass off himself. "This one will let you sleep. Good night, Kamiya-dono."

"Hey, Kenshin!" Kamiya looked embarrassed as he said. "I'll definitely eat your cooking tomorrow."

He smiled. "This one will have to outdo himself, then."

"I look forward to it. Good night to you too." He mirrored Kenshin's expression, before diving back into his tent.

As Kenshin walked to his own bedroll, he gazed up at the moon. That same moon was over their destination of Satsuma, yet it would still be a long road ahead. He hadn't wanted to join, but rather than execute him, the army preferred to make use of the former Battousai. Inwardly, he knew that meant breaking his non-killing vow. It was why he dreaded every step they took, but perhaps, Kamiya's ideals were worth enduring this.

Settling under a thin blanket, he closed his eyes. The army may have threatened his vow, but he could make a new one. On the road to Satsuma, and even after, he would protect Kamiya and see him home once this war ended. At the very least, he wanted to see the future their youngest soldier had promised.