As a teacher, Kaoru should not have been pleased to find that her pupils had been lax in their studies; their form was collectively graceless, and more than one left practice rubbing sore muscles and griping about working too hard. Sweating and achy herself, she was instead glad for the reprieve. Until she realized the reason for all the new faces had very little to do with her technique and far more to do with the mystery surrounding her disappearance.

She made straight for Yahiko as soon as the first lesson had ended, grabbing him and tugging him into a corner where they were less likely to be heard, "what sort of rumors have you been spreading?"

He grinned, thoroughly unrepentant, "None. All I did was mention to Tae that you were home, and being awfully secretive about where you'd been. Oh, and that Fujita Goro himself paid us a visit, only I still don't know what he wanted. It took care of itself from there."

"Sneak," Kaoru hissed, admiring despite herself.

"Honesty won't pay our bills," Yahiko said simply, "but I didn't lie at all. Looks like it worked, so I think you meant to say thank you."

Kaoru pursed her lips, letting the moment draw itself out while Yahiko began to fidget, increasingly uncomfortable and defensive, "thank you," she offered finally, snorting at the darkling look he gave her before stomping away to put up his gear. He hadn't lied, but he had implied a connection that wasn't there… and she was desperate enough to take full advantage of it. It was well they had eaten at Akabeko not too long ago, the weeks ahead were going to be filled with barley and tofu and even then making the payment was not assured. Every extra person they brought in, whether a curious bystander or a serious student, brought them one step closer to balancing their books.

She used the time between morning and afternoon lessons to count out their coins, laying aside a small handful for their living expenses. She would have to go to the market in the morning and gather what supplies she was a better bargainer, but he had already been through enough; she would leave while he was still trying to force himself awake and be back before he realized she had been gone with any luck.

By the time afternoon lessons rolled around she felt much more herself, enough to answer vaguely when students tried to pry into her disappearance, and to stare down the students who were too insistent in their probing. She was, however, thoroughly worn out by the end of lessons and no sooner had she taken her bath than she left Yahiko to see to his own supper and collapsed into her futon to catch up on all the sleep she had lost to half-remembered dreams.

!

!

!

The morning sun woke her, streaming across the floor to dance across her flickering eyelids. She started up, grimacing to find she was still in yesterday's clothes, the soreness in her muscles that much worse for sleeping wrong. With a muffled groan she clambered to her feet, going through the motions of folding her futon and blankets; the house was quiet but for her, Yahiko evidently still asleep. The perfect time to slip out. She crept out the door, sneaking down the hallway to check in on him.

He was sprawled in his sheets, limbs thrown every which way, mouth open as he snored softly, completely oblivious to her presence; they would have to work on his awareness of his surroundings, no swordsman should ever sleep so deeply. It wouldn't be much longer before everyone but she recognized him as a man. And she had missed precious months with him.

Kaoru stalked outside, drawing a pail up from the well to scrub her skin in frigid water. She scooped up what remained of it to wet her throat, hurrying back inside to change out of her clothes before setting off again. She had a new appreciation for all the things she had once taken for granted: the sun warming her skin even as the cool air pricked the hair on her arm, the fishmongers already shouting their wares at the top of their voices were welcome after so long in silence and shadow. No two sights were ever the same between streets, no endless matching corridors to trap her here but roads she had been walking since she was a child.

She lingered longer than she should have in the market, casting wistful eyes at a merchant selling fresh yuzu, but her purse was light enough without that extravagance. Dutifully she turned away and made for a stall selling tofu. She hated carrying it home herself, hated the way the merchant smirked at her when she bought barley instead of rice, the struggle of toting both bucket and sack without dropping either. She forced herself to treat it as a challenge, another exercise for her flagging muscles to build back up to her old strength. She was no pampered miss to need a hired hand.

By the time she stumbled awkwardly through the gates of her home, her shoulders were aching from bending beneath the weight of her burden and she wanted nothing so much as to throw herself into the cool well water and float there, preferably well into the afternoon. Still, she managed the few extra steps to the kitchen to deposit their week's meals.

"Yahiko! Yahiko, breakfast!" He didn't answer, apparently still dead to the world. Vexed, Kaoru stomped to his room again, making as much noise as she could. As long as she had taken, he had no excuse to still be asleep with so many chores to do. Only his room was empty, his futon neatly stowed and a slate resting atop it.

"Harbor, home for lunch," not the most eloquent missive she had ever read, but at least she knew where he was. Working to pay off the debt she had incurred while she had been annoyed with him for an extra hour's sleep. He would be working on a nearly empty stomach too, their meager leftovers were not enough for a boy who had shot up an inch in the past half year.

Kaoru shook the increasingly dreary thoughts from her head; they were working as much as they could. She could stretch her money until it screamed, could substitute for other instructors on the side, perhaps place an ad in the paper? That would cost, but what would it gain them? She wasn't one for wallowing in self-pity, and Yahiko had always been ruthlessly practical. Between the two of them they could surely fight their way out of the corner Kanryu had backed them into. It was going to be an uphill battle though.

She pulled up her sleeves and tied them above her elbows, readying herself for the day's chores. No amount of wishing or self-recrimination was going to get them done, but if she worked hard enough maybe the silence wouldn't feel like it was crushing her again. And she would have lunch waiting for Yahiko when he returned, an apology of sorts, not that he would ever know she owed him one.

It wasn't yet noon when she heard Yahiko approaching, voice raised as he spoke to someone outside the gate. Kaoru frowned; Yahiko kept few friends, too busy to play with boys his age, too attached to Tsubame to spend time with any other girl. Sometimes Sano accompanied him home, usually just long enough to help himself to the pantry or maybe share a cup of sake before vanishing again. He wasn't one for being tied down, and Kaoru envied him his freedom even as she pitied him for it.

"…Sure you could find better rooms than this, but none as cheap. I'll give you a discount just because I like your style."

A tenant? They hadn't discussed letting any of the rooms, and Kaoru was naturally wary of anyone blown in from the streets, but then she had taken Yahiko in when he was no more than a pickpocket, and somehow he had become her brother in truth. He had a knack for spotting trouble as well as causing it, Kaoru conceded. She could probably trust his instincts, but if not… they could deal with that when they came to it. She wasn't about to turn away a paying boarder.

"How generous," wry amusement seeped into his companion's voice, the hint of laughter beneath it. Kaoru paused, hands fluttering uselessly at her waist; there was something familiar in the timber of the voice if not the cadence of the words. She rushed out to meet Yahiko in the courtyard, her worst fears confirmed when she saw the flame-red of her captor's hair.

"Battousai! Get the hell away from him!" Both men visibly leapt, Yahiko staring as though he'd never seen her before, Battousai's hand falling to the sword at his hip- she threw herself at him, catching him at the waist to toss him down and straddling him with her knees to pin his shoulders.

"Kaoru, what the hell?" Yahiko's surprisingly strong hands pulled at her shoulders, "get off! He's a friend."

"Stay back, Yahiko, he's armed," she snarled, glaring down into violet blue eyes. Wait. Shrugging off Yahiko's grip, she brushed the man's hair away from his face, staring into eyes that were decidedly not amber, seeing features softer than Battousai's own.

"Battou…?" The man beneath her didn't seem all that perturbed at the unconventional welcome, lying unresisting beneath her. He winced as she shifted her weight, hands palm up beside him in the gesture for surrender, "I didn't mean to trespass, miss." He looked baffled, as well he might if she had just attacked a stranger. Kaoru finally let Yahiko pull her away, standing up and backing away warily.

"Geez, Kaoru. What's gotten into you? I swear she's not usually insane, it's just been a hard few weeks," Yahiko hauled the man to his feet, helping him brush the dirt off.

"Not a problem, not a problem. Your sister, I assume?"

"Kaoru," Kaoru broke in, folding her arms about her defensively; now that she had a proper look at him she could see differences between this man and her captor. He looked shorter for one, though she knew that could easily be remedied by changing his posture. His eyes though; she knew of no way to alter eye color, unless that was something characteristic of whatever Battousai was?

"What did you say your name was?" She pressed, studying him for any sign that he recognized her and finding none.

"Ah, excuse me." He bowed formally, "Himura Kenshin. Thank you for having me?"

He was right to make it a question. Her eyes flicked between Yahiko and he, "where did you meet this one, Yahiko?"

"Huh? Kenshin? We go way back."

"How far back?" Yahiko had little respect for the time most people went by.

"A month? Kenshin, a month or two?"

"I believe so." His speech was painfully correct, his entire attitude one of humility. But for the hair and the sword at his waist she couldn't imagine a more different creature from Battousai. The sword!

"I won't have any swords in my home. You can go back wherever you came from," Kaoru began rudely, ignoring Yahiko's pinch on her arm.

"It isn't a proper sword," he offered guilelessly, sliding it from its sheath for her inspection, "the blade is reversed, you see."

"All the same, they are illegal in Edo. I won't have you dragging the police into my affairs."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Yahiko whispered furiously, "Kenshin is good people. Kenshin is good, paying people."

Ah yes, for that she could forgive a multitude of sins and inconveniences. Only the thought of having another red-haired man in her home was nearly enough to turn her own hair gray. She banished the thought; there was simply no way this mild-mannered vagabond could be the lordly demon that had held her all those months. Kenshin lacked the intensity, the predatory intent his doppelganger had carried draped about him like a cloak so that she would have known him even blindfolded.

"Of course I wouldn't want to be a bother-"

"You aren't," Yahiko cut in, leveling a glare at Kaoru that dared her to contradict him, "she's just in one of her tempers."

Perhaps she was at that. The man couldn't help his foreign blood, couldn't help his passing resemblance to her captor. The most he was guilty of was bringing a useless sword into her home. "I won't let you be a bother," she said finally, "it's you the police are going to arrest if they catch you with that sword, and don't even think of dragging my name into it when they pick you up."

"I wouldn't," he looked shocked at the suggestion, all wide eyes and sheepish smile.

"Good, if that's settled, lunch is still warm."

"Brace yourself," Yahiko murmured, loud enough to carry, "Kaoru could burn water."

"I heard that."

"I could cook if you show me the kitchen?"

"I'd pay you to stay here if you did," Yahiko returned earnestly.

"Enough, both of you. If you don't care for my cooking I'll eat alone and you can go begging for scraps."

!

!

Lunch was an unusually sober affair. Kaoru ate sparingly, watching their new tenant and picking at her own food. Kenshin ate as he seemed to do everything else, methodically and inoffensively, keeping whatever comments he had about the food to himself. Every so often he would catch her watching him and offer her a bemused look or a smile; there seemed to be nothing beneath it but friendliness. But there was that sword at his hip… the blade reversed though wicked sharp.

"Whereabouts are you from, Kenshin?" She tried for a neutral tone, but coupled with her eagle-eyed gaze it came across as accusatory.

"Everywhere and nowhere, I suppose," Kenshin answered, oblivious to the way she stiffened, we are everywhere and nowhere, so we may go anywhere. "I have been traveling a long time."

"No place to call home?"

"Not in many years."

Kaoru sat back on her heels, reevaluating him, "you're a rounin then," she nodded to his blade.

"Mhmm," he finished the last of his bowl, setting it aside and thanking her politely. She wanted to dislike him, but he was staunchly refusing to give her a reason and with coin upfront she wouldn't turn him out.

"Very agreeable, aren't you?"

"Certainly," there was a shred of amusement in his tone, but it felt nothing like the mocking edge of Battousai's voice, rather it invited her to share in the amusement even at her own expense.

Yahiko laughed aloud, choking on his barley, "'s'alright, Kaoru, you're bossy enough for all of us. Don't take it personal, Kenshin, she's been weird the past few days."

Kaoru bit back a defensive reply, that she had been abducted and imprisoned and was even now taking a meal with a man that nearly shared a face with her captor. She knew it would sound crazy; Yahiko would either dismiss it as a fit or worse, believe her. She didn't like to think what the hothead would do if he suspected the latter, and she couldn't bear it if he looked at her like she was crazy, lying or both. So she held her tongue and finished the rest of the meal quick enough that she wouldn't have to taste it, washing it down with tepid tea.

"I'm sure you'll need to settle in before tonight. The room is sparse and the food is whatever we happen to have, but you can use the furo first, at least."

"It is more than adequate, thank you."

"There's no need to be so polite," she had been raised among rough men and salt of the earth people, but his painfully correct responses seemed worse than any of the street cant she had heard from her neighbors and students, "you won't singe my ears."

"As you say, miss."

Rolling her eyes, Kaoru pushed herself to her feet, gathering up their dishes and making for the kitchen again.

"I'll show him around, Kaoru!" Yahiko called after her, plainly delighted with Kenshin. If their tenant didn't look as he did she would have been glad Yahiko had found a companion with such good manners and hoped that they wore off on him. As it was, she resolved to watch and wait. If Kenshin was just a wanderer as he claimed to be, just one of many people trying to outrun an unfortunate past, they would get along fine. If he was Battousai, he would show his colors soon. He wouldn't be able to help himself.

Out of sight of the other two, she glanced down at her left little finger, trying for that trick that let her see her thread. She would know then for certain who he was, but it remained as invisible as ever. Once again she was left with nothing but instinct to guide her, and after all she had been through she knew she couldn't trust it.

!

!

"Seriously, don't worry about her," Yahiko perched beside Kenshin's pack in his room, watching him neatly lay out what few possessions were dear or necessary enough for him to carry. "You've probably heard the rumors in town-"

"I don't think your sister would like to hear them repeated," Kenshin admonished gently.

"Definitely not. She won't even tell me where she went or what happened. I know it wasn't good though; she's been jumpy ever since."

Kenshin hummed noncommittally, "it seems I caused her some distress today. Will you tell her I can take my meals in my room?"

Yahiko shook his head, "she'd feel bad. Just join us. She'll apologize tomorrow, she always does and she isn't angry with you anymore. Trust me, you always know when she's angry."

Kenshin chuckled, pulling the last of his things from his bag, "I had that impression." Yahiko's eyes narrowed with interest when a child's top rolled from the bag, rolling gaily about the floor. Kenshin pushed it back in, setting his things next to his futon, "all the same, I'll be moving on shortly and there's no need to upset her."

Dismissing the curious top, Yahiko scooted over to sit next to Kenshin, "Kaoru almost snapped my wrist the first time we met, really." Kenshin's eyes widened with alarm and Yahiko hurried to explain, "I had my hand in her purse and she didn't know I was a kid. She brought me home instead and I've been here ever since. Sometimes she overreacts, sometimes her temper gets the better of her, but she can't hold a grudge, and she never stays angry long. She'd want you to stay as long as you need."

"The money doesn't hurt either," he added with characteristic bluntness at Kenshin's incredulous look.

Kenshin nodded, "with the anti-sword carrying laws in effect I imagine it's much harder to draw students."

"Yeah, Kaoru took a loan but the sort of man that'd invest in a failing dojo isn't one you want to deal with, y'know? Takeda Kanryu is out to conquer the world not run a charity," Yahiko sighed, "she's probably just worried about losing this place if he calls in our debt, and where we'd go if we did. Neither of us has family left."

Kenshin reached out, tousling his hair comfortingly, "it sounds to me as though you have all the family you need."

Yahiko pushed his hand away, annoyed at being treated like a kid, "point is, just chalk it up to red being an unlucky color for monkeys and forget about this afternoon. Kaoru will."

"Very well," Kenshin sighed, levering himself to his feet, "we will take tomorrow as a new day then."

"Thanks, Kenshin," he took the hand offered to him, "you'll like it here. Promise."

!

!

!

Nightfall found Megumi waiting anxiously across the road for some sign of Battousai. Her work had been imperfect, Kaoru far more resistant to her influence than the boy, but at least he hadn't been thrown out yet.

"Where is he?" She whispered the question to the man at her back, perfectly still and quiet even hours after they had been abandoned. Her skin prickled with static, his magic the only thing keeping them from being seen, a makeshift blind against the humans still hurrying home at this late hour.

"Patience," Aoshi advised, retreating back into whatever thoughts had kept him occupied the better part of the afternoon.

Megumi was ready with a scathing remark, but no sooner had she opened her mouth to deliver it than the man she was looking for ventured out the side gate, nonchalantly making for the place they were hidden. The static nipped her viciously when he crossed the boundary of Aoshi's magic and she hissed in annoyance.

"Aoshi, Megumi," he sounded himself at least. She wasn't sure what to make of the face he wore, the vacancy in it, the mildness of the expression so at odds with the lord she served it unnerved her. "It took me awhile to find a way to leave without alerting Kaoru, she suspects."

"If you had let me put a glamor on you she wouldn't. It's not too late, we can begin again tomorrow."

"I don't want anything tampering with my seal," Battousai dismissed the thought out of hand, "Kenshin is useful precisely because he believes he's real. Any dissonance with my memories and…" he trailed off, looking to Aoshi, "what word?"

"Nothing, yet. Hiko tells me no one knows you are gone. Soujiro seems to have his suspicions though."

Battousai considered that silently, "don't let him approach Yumi, I have never been sure if she could try his loyalty."

Aoshi nodded his agreement, jaw tightly set. He respected Soujiro's skills, but the man himself had always been an unknown quantity, something Aoshi mistrusted in anyone.

"And Aoshi, set a watch on the dojo when I am not here; the boy is expecting trouble from a debt collector. Megumi," she straightened, ears pricking with new interest, "see what you can find out about a Takeda Kanryu. I want to know all his business interests, who is dealing with him and who has in the past. Be sure you find all his connections, I have no interest in untangling their tails. I would rather eliminate the whole rat king."

"Are you sure that's wise? I think Kaoru would be suspicious if all her troubles were spontaneously resolved. Particularly through murder," Megumi tried to keep the tremor of unease from her voice. It had been years since Battousai had gone to war, and the last time had been for more altruistic reasons. She didn't want to see what he was capable of when the stakes were personal.

"Bad things have a way of happening to bad people. I am sure that is true here as well." From his tone, she knew it was the last protest he would entertain; she only hoped it would take her long enough to untangle the mess for him to change his mind.

"I'll need time."

"You have plenty, but the sooner you're about your work the better."

Megumi took the dismissal as it was meant, leaving the two of them to whatever secrets they cared to exchange out of her hearing; she could try to pry it from Aoshi's tight lips later.

"I have always handled your affairs, Megumi is not a spy." The words were spoken mildly enough, but in all their time together it was the closest Aoshi had ever come to criticizing him. Battousai eyed him with new consideration, newly sensitive to the protective impulse underlying the words.

"You aren't giving her enough credit. A beautiful woman will have no trouble asking the sort of questions that would draw attention to you, you know this." Not long ago it wouldn't have occurred to him to offer a concession, but now… "if worry will keep you from your other duties, then find a way to keep watch over both of them. I trust your judgment."

Aoshi startled, fixing him with a narrow-eyed look as though assessing his sincerity. He finally nodded slowly, obviously already running through a list of potentialities.

"I need to go back," Battousai's lips twisted, "Kaoru is keeping careful watch and it has been enough of a risk sneaking out this long. We can't make a habit of meeting too often; if you have news for me, leave a token outside the gate."

"Understood."

Aoshi watched him hurry back across the road, waiting until he had entered by the gate before finally dissolving the blind. They had their marching orders, each of them, but before anything else he needed to track down the cause of the peculiar bite in his power. Megumi had felt it too, though she hadn't reacted with more than mild annoyance; her memories were not as clear as his own, and he had had far more dealings with the wolf than she had. Enough to remember the echo his presence always left, just enough to make Aoshi's power unwieldy.

Sealed as he was, Battousai couldn't have felt it and Aoshi had been certain the wolf was dead. With Battousai to watch over the dojo for now, he felt comfortable slipping away, tracking the source of the disturbance.

!

!

!

Hunched over her work sanding the last patch of ink from a letter, Tokio startled and nearly fouled the page when her husband sat bolt upright, lips curling back from his teeth in an instinctive snarl.

"What is it?" She whispered the question, eyes flicking to the door. She knew Fujita Goro had a reputation for being a harsh man, even ruthless on occasion, but it wasn't a side of him she ever saw in their home. The snarl she hadn't seen since she had first taken him in, half a wild thing and wary of even his rescuer's touch. Of course, she had never seen such a look on the man's face either, and if anything it had looked less intimidating when he was a wolf.

He reached for his sword, never far from his hand, and consciously smoothed the lines from his face as he clipped it at his side. She could still see the tightness about his eyes though, the uncommon sharpness in his gaze that had made braver folk than she beg to tell him whatever secrets they had been keeping. Years of exposure had made her immune.

Tokio planted herself before the door, blocking his exit until she had at least a halfhearted answer, "what's wrong? Police business?"

"Personal," there was enough of a rumble beneath the word that she could almost feel sorry for whomever had upset him. "I won't be gone long."

"Where are you going?" She moved aside as he started past her, "do you have to go now? It's late."

She worried for him, even knowing he was something other, even knowing what he was capable of with his wicked blade she had never quite managed to stop. He couldn't be the only one of his kind, and if they had run him to ground once she didn't like to imagine what would happen if the others found him again.

"It won't keep," he hesitated on the threshold, "I'll be here when you wake. Keep the door bolted, don't let anyone in until I've returned."

She nodded, stretching up to press a chaste peck to his cheek, "good hunting."

He offered her one of his rare smiles, sharp with teeth and the next minute he was gone into the night.

Tokio wasted no time bolting the door behind him, snuffing her lamp and making for the comfort of their room. Time moved a little differently for him, she knew. "A little while" could be days or weeks or mere hours, but she had relaxed once he promised to return before she woke. She turned in early, wrapping the blanket tightly about her so he would have to wake her when he came in and slipped easily into sleep despite her restless thoughts. He had given her his word he would be home when she woke, and he had promised her when they married no harm would come to her while she was under his protection. Saitou Hajime always kept his word; she wouldn't fall into the habit of doubting him now.

!

!

The streets of Edo were as familiar to him as his own reflection in the mirror now, his eyes still keen in the darkness even after years of wearing his human face. He was tempted to shed it, take his true form and race for the dojo where he knew he would find the source of that prickling discomfort. Caution stayed him, as it always did. His younger self might have scoffed at his indecision, but Fujita Goro had more to lose than Saitou Hajime could have imagined. Whenever he was tempted to let something of his true nature slip free, he had but to remind himself of what a mistake could cost.

Tokio had lost enough to the war. Now all she wanted was a quiet life: work that engaged her, a husband that loved her, a small but well-kept home, and a son to dote on. Even absent the son she had wanted, she was content and finally growing used to the boredom of peace. She had accepted Saitou would always need his police work; she didn't mind sharing him with that particular mistress as long as he made time for her.

It had taken Saitou years to recognize that he too was learning to be content, settling into the life they had built together. Not for anyone less than Battousai himself would he chance it. Still, a wolf could never become a lap dog and it took focus to keep from slipping into his primal form as he neared the dojo. He prowled the street, looking for any disturbance, following that low discordant hum just below hearing. He found it at last; the faded remains of a boundary, meant for concealment unless he missed his guess.

Someone had been watching the dojo.

Battousai wouldn't be far behind.

Saitou prowled the perimeter once, making certain the watchers were gone. He knew they would return, knew they would scent him all around the place and be on their guard. This was his city now, not territory free for the taking; they would recognize his scent for what it was- a warning and a challenge.

Satisfied his work was done, he raced back the way he had come, slipping into his home and gliding around creaking floorboards with predatory grace. The wards he had set about the place yielded, let him pass with only cold pinpricks of pain. He had spoken words of protection about the entire house, binding a command to keep watch and keep anything inhuman out into every piece of wood and stone. Defensive incantations weren't his strongest talent, but he had poured all his will into his weaving until it considered even its maker a threat.

Tokio was already abed, bundled so deeply in the blanket he couldn't make out more than her forehead. She roused only slightly when he slipped in beside her, reaching back to pat him and make sure he wasn't a dream, murmuring a sleepy question. She slipped back into sleep before he could answer, not even stirring when he clamped an arm about her waist to drag her back to him, tucking her under his chin, near enough that he could smell the human scent of her, hear the steady beat of her heart.

He let it lull him to sleep too, putting thoughts of Battousai out of his head until the morning when he could pay a more official visit.

!

!

!

A.N.: Apparently 1860 was the the year of the monkey, and it turns out red is considered an unlucky color for monkeys. How very apropos. ;)

Also, a 'rat king' is a tangle of rats connected at their tails. I always assumed it was a myth, but wikipedia has pictures if anyone is interested.