Hey! Yeah, I really, really should not be starting another story, but alas, this has been sitting on my computer for a year or two and I feel it is finally time to post it.

So Lord of the Rings and Rurouni Kenshin. . . . Who would have thunk it?

This was born because it is the fanfiction that I always wanted to read. Sadly I had to write it myself.

Chapter One: Firmament

*BOOM!* *POP*

Colors rained down above his head. The music and chattering of the guests encompassed him, as he picked his way through the crowd. He glanced around for his uncle, and spotted the elderly hobbit surrounded by the town children who were positively captivated by his storytelling.

"Uncle always could tell the best stories," Frodo thought to himself amused, as his uncle drew gasps and "Wow!'s" from his miniature crowd with his vivid descriptions. He knew that their reactions made the entire evening, and three months planning, all worthwhile to Bilbo. His uncle, Frodo decided, was never more comfortable, then when he was surrounded by the shinning eyes of the hobbit children. Who hung upon his every word, his every pause, and his every gesture.

Frodo remembered when he was the only one in the crowd. He was probably the first person to hear of Bilbo's tales. When Bilbo first took him in as a child, he was stricken with his parent's death and Bilbo was positively hopeless with children back then, let alone children who were mourning the loss of their parents.

Frodo had refused to speak for weeks; he ate very little and spent the better part of his days on his bed, staring blankly into space. He may as well have been dead to the world. He hardly even noticed his uncle was around. Bilbo would speak to him every hour on the hour, trying to get even the smallest sentence in return. When he ran out of city gossip and all the questions he could think of, he read every book he could find out loud to him. After he went through all the novels, he started on the cookbooks, listing all the ingredients and methods of preparations, when those were so thoroughly done he could list off all the ingredients to his favorite potpie, he moved on to the oral histories of the family's in the shire.

When Bilbo seemed exhausted to the point of giving up, he remembered his many travels. If he could outwit Gollum and ogres alike, there was no way he would give up on his nephew. Inspiration struck and the weariness from the weeks seemed to fade, if only a little.

"Frodo, child," He began quietly and perhaps hopefully, "how would you like to hear about my adventures through middle earth?" Frodo gazed listlessly at the ceiling. Bilbo took a deep breath and began.

"It all started with a dragon. . . . . "

"Mr. Frodo. Mr. Frodo!" The call broke him out of his musings to realize he had been standing there for a while, Bilbo and the hobbit children had long dispersed. He turned to find his best friend and gardener, Samwise Gamgee looking around rather frantically in the opposite direction, among a gaggle of old hobbit women.

"Probably looking for me." A mischievous smile made its way onto his face

He trotted over, carefully avoiding the bar-maiden who was juggling a tray full of precariously placed mugs. He snuck up from behind his blonde friend

"Yes Sam?" He whispered into his ear. Frodo laughed openly, as Sam leapt up into the air with a little yelp.

"Geez, Mr. Frodo! You shouldn't do that to people!" Sam said, blushing in embarrassment at the stares that got directed their way.

"Sorry Sam, I couldn't resist," Frodo replied, hiding his large smile behind his hand. Sam gave a half-hearted glare in his direction, knowing he couldn't stay angry at his brunette friend. He huffed a sigh.

"You've been hangin' around Merry and Pippin to much Mr. Frodo," He said a little sullenly "Their impish ways are beginning to rub off on you."

"That may be so," Frodo replied, grin still evident on his face. "What were you calling me for, anyways Sam?" He queried.

"Er, well the Sackville Baggins are here and I don't think they'll be leaving until they find your uncle." Sam's face showed distaste for the relatives who constantly intruded Frodo, and Bilbo's lives. Frodo sighed a little

"Thanks Sam, I'll find my uncle and let him know. Though, in the meantime, I think you should maybe find Rosie. I bet she would love a dance with you."

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam squeaked. Frodo chuckled and turned towards the thick crowd of hobbits in search of his uncle.

"Finding him is easier said than done." He thought exasperatedly. "Well I won't find him by just standing here." He joined the jumble of hobbits.

Gandalf smiled at the hobbit children, before assenting to do another magical firework.

"I think the butterfly's will do nicely," He mused as he began setting up, when suddenly he felt a cool breath blow through him. He shivered and looked towards the sky.

"Such an ominous wind, I wonder what it could mean."

"Gandalf?" A hobbit child, Lena, if he recalled correctly, asked worriedly. He realized his face was twisted into a deep frown and he was probably scaring the children with his seriousness. He relaxed his face and shoved the deep feeling of foreboding aside.

"I'm sorry my children, my mind wanders from time to time, thank you for helping me find it. Could you forgive an old man?" He smiled gently turning to Lena, and she giggled at being addressed so politely and respectfully.

"I think I could, but if you did more fireworks, I surely could forgive you," She replied, biting her lip hopefully.

Gandalf's eyes twinkled and his response was twenty or so, glittering, sparkling butterflies popping into the air, making the children squeal in delight. Gandalf looked towards the sky again.

"Will it be a punishment or a gift that shall befall?" Gandalf couldn't help himself for desperately wishing for the latter.

The evening was reaching its climax, and already a few of the children had been dragged, kicking and screaming to their respective hobbit holes.

Merry and Pippin were scrubbing furiously at a seemingly, never ending pile of dishes. They were dirty, sweaty and covered with soot, but their jubilant smiles were unmistakable. Their work this evening was a smashing success.

"Don't get your soot on the clean dishes." Gandalf called, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe. "And put your backs into it!" He threw in as an afterthought, and Gandalf was pleased to hear the scrubbing pick up.

"Barmy old wizard . . ." Merry muttered under his breath, making Pippin chortle.

"Hmm, did you say something Meriadoc?" He smiled when he felt them stiffen behind him.

"N-n-no sir, Gandalf, just uh admiring what a beautiful night it was tonight, right Pip?" He elbowed his counterpart. Gandalf heard a dish shatter and shook his head at the two.

"Ouch Merry! Why'd you elbow me? You made me drop the plate!"

"Because Pip, it's such a beautiful night I thought you might have wanted to share it with Gandalf."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Well be- because. Ugh Never mind Pip."

"What's wrong Merry? You're eye's all twitchy and stuff."

"Nothing Pippin," He ground out dangerously Gandalf chuckled at their expense.

All the hobbits were gathered in the sitting area enjoying the delicious cake that Belba Bolger had prepared. The stout woman looked around proudly at the result of her hard work, and Frodo couldn't imagine anyone ever making a cake to top the one Belba had presented tonight; in both quantity and quality.

"Speech Bilbo! Speech! Speech!" The hobbits were now assembling by the podium, chanting. Bilbo was soaking the attention like a sponge, and made a big show of wondering if he should go up and do a birthday speech. Frodo grinned, knowing his uncle had been preparing his speech even before he began planning his birthday.

He finally made his way onto the make-shift stand. A hush fell about the crowd even the remaining children were still in anticipation.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks, Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers" Here Frodo could have sworn he winked at Belba, but he dismissed it and turned back to his uncle.

" . . .is my one-hundred and eleventh birthday."

"Happy Birthday!" The roar was deafening.

"Alas one-hundred and eleven years is far too short a time to live amongst such brave and admirable hobbits." There was a general stir of agreements and warm smiles.

"I don't know half of you, half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve." The silence was awkward, except for Gandalf, who Frodo noticed was looking quite mirthful.

"I – I-have—" Just has his uncle began thumbing through his pocket when there was an explosion and a bright light shone from above. A large pale circle opened up in the sky. The thin disk was probably 20 feet or more across, with rippling energy jumping across its surface.

Gandalf pulled out his staff apprehensively, as the hobbits began screaming and breaking apart, trying to get out from underneath its massive shadow. Many ran, not glancing back, as they ran for the woods and hills.

Frodo ran to Bilbo, who seemed shaken, and was furiously trying to shove something back into his breast-pocket.

"Bilbo! Are you alright?" Bilbo nodded, not trusting his voice, but he still stood sharply and headed towards Gandalf, Frodo trotting behind.

"Gandalf, what is that!"

Gandalf never had a chance to answer as something fell from the circle, the outline of a body became clearer and clearer as it approached the ground at a dangerous speed. It was only Gandalf's quick thinking, which saved the boy from certain death.

Gandalf muttered a quick phrase in Elvish before thrusting his staff towards the body, and it slowed down as though, it was falling through water, not air. He hurriedly gave Frodo his staff and went forward to catch the person before they hit the ground.

The few remaining hobbits, about ten or so, that hadn't high-tailed it out of there, approached cautiously. Curiosity overwhelmed their sense of self-preservation.

At first glance, it appeared to be girl, with the long, albeit, dirty hair and pink outfit. But Gandalf knew better, for the jaw was a little wider and eyebrows too sharp, lacking that feminine softness. They had the most unusually distinct scar on his face. . . an x. Gandalf also noticed the sword that was carried around his waist. He frowned and discreetly pulled it out of his pant loop and hid it amongst his robes.

He decided, that for the moment, he would keep that fact to himself.

The hobbits gasped when they realized it was one of the big folk. (Albeit a short one)

"What is a human doing here?" One asked

"How did it do that? Is it some sort of sorcery?"

"Nay it is not a human but some manner of beast!" Yet another answered

The boy began stirring and they fell silent watching the mysterious youth.

He cracked one violet eye, surprising Frodo with the color, and scanned his surroundings. His eyes were glassy and dazed. And he didn't seem to be taking in any of what he was seeing. His breath was uneven and he was obviously tense in Gandalf's arms.

"D-dokko ka?" He rasped out. Those gathered looked at each other, wondering if the other might have understood what he said.

"Child, can you understand me?" Gandalf asked, examining the boy for any signs of understanding, for what he was saying.

"Wakarimasen . . . ." The boy trailed off, eyebrows furrowing before a hand shot to his side.

"Itai!" The hobbits jumped at the sudden movement and Gandalf immediately adjusted the way he was holding the boy to accommodate the movement. Frodo looked over and realized he was grasping his left side tightly and a red liquid was spilling through his hands. It took Frodo a minute to realize it was blood.

"Blood! Gandalf they're bleeding!" Frodo was panicky. Gandalf looked around for the source and swore mutedly.

"Does anyone have bandages and medicine?" He asked, the hobbits stood stock still.

"DOES ANYONE HAVE BANDAGES AND MEDICINE!" They all started and replied with stuttering and varying yes's and no's.

"If you have any supplies to spare please, bring them to my house," Bilbo said taking charge,

"And somebody fetch Linda Proudfoot! Now, come, we must lay him down in a bed and stop the bleeding." The ten or so hobbits disassembled and quickly scurried on their way. Gandalf changed how he held the boy again, trying to not to jostle him too badly and began swiftly walking towards Bag-end. Frodo and Bilbo had to run to keep up with the wizard's long strides. The boy thankfully, went unconscious form the pain, and Gandalf figured it would be some time before he would awaken again.

"Did Gandalf say 'he?'" The surrounding hobbits shrugged.

The evening did not go how anyone expected, even Bilbo, who had planned for a surprise, was caught off guard by the arrival of the mysterious youth.

It was only thanks to Linda, whose skill in treating injuries saved the boy from bleeding to death.

"He's more scarred than Gaffer. . . ." She muttered under her breath as she tied the last knot on the bandage.

"That's all I can do for him, I'm afraid." She swept her hand across her sweaty forehead

"It's up to chance now. I'm not sure who did this, but I can safely say that this was done by something sharp . . . most likely a sword. He was probably . . . attacked-I . . . ." She turned away from his youthful face.

"Excuse me, I need to go."

She was about to leave when her hand hesitated on the doorknob and she turned to face them.

"B-bring him down for a checkup if . . ." The "If he lives" hung heavy in the air.

Bilbo nodded and gave her a quick hug.

"Thank you so much my dear, I don't know what we would have done without you." Her smile was a little teary but she seemed to feel a little better.

"Hobbits aren't equipped to deal with such matters; they should never know the feeling of blood, or steel of weapons in their hand, only the feel of the harvest grain, and handle of their mug of ale. Their innocence and naivety is part of what makes them such a charming race . . ." Gandalf thought morosely.

"Would you like to stay for a cup of tea my dear, maybe a bit of sponge cake?" Bilbo asked gesturing to the kitchen.

"No, I'm quite alright now, thank you for asking, but I really should be getting home to my husband." The three thanked her earnestly for her hard work and bade her farewell. They shuffled towards their guest to see how he was faring.

The boy's face was pale as an elf, and his breathing was still erratic, a few words slipped through his mouth but none of them could make anything of it.

"Kaoru-dono . . . . . Tomoe . . . . "

Frodo was the first to fall asleep, curled up in the chair in the corner. Gandalf smiled at the sight.

Bilbo turned in for the night next, but he seemed a little distracted and maybe even irritated to Gandalf's keen gaze.

As soon as he heard snores emanate from Bilbo's room, Gandalf pulled the sword carefully from his long robes.

It was probably the most unusual sword Gandalf had ever seen. It was thinner than most swords, there was a slight curve to the sheathe and to the hilt. The guard wasn't as large as most swords, but instead went all the way around the sword. He grasped the unusually long hilt, and pulled it out of the sheath silently as he could, and blanched. The sharp side of the sword was opposing the curve. He flipped it over to see if perhaps he was holding it wrong, but even he could tell it that it was the wrong way of holding it.

"Perhaps the young man uses methods simply beyond my comprehension. After all who knows how they fight where ever he is from."

Gandalf gazed down and took in the youthful features.

"Too young to be carrying a sword, . . . . . . and far too young to be dying of it." He winced.

"If only that were the case," He said softly to himself.

"If only."

"AHHHHHHhhhgggg!" Screams littered the air as he swiftly knocked out multiple people at once. He stepped forward, his Ki was harsh and threatening and he made no move to reel it in. These people were attacking his home, the people he loved; mercy wasn't in his dictionary at this point. Thank Kami Kaoru and Yahiko were at the store.

"Very impressive, even more so than I've heard from stories, wouldn't you agree Battousai?" Kenshin glared and whipped towards the source of the voice, as a man stepped out of the shadow of a building.

"Are you the one behind this? What do you want with Kenshin you bastard!" Sanosuke Sagara was blatantly pissed off. The other man didn't even glance his way, keeping his gaze locked with Kenshin's.

"If you won't answer, I'll just have to liberate some answers." Sano cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"Revenge." The word was spoken softly. The man seemed to gather himself together. He was short, and Kenshin would even go as far as saying, he was frail and delicate looking. His hair was thinning and it simply didn't look like he would make it much longer.

"It's revenge for those who can't get it for themselves."

"Isn't it always?" A voice echoed tiredly from his mind. Kenshin bowed his head, bangs falling over his eyes.

"By taking one person's life, it affects everyone around them. It sets off a cycle of revenge, one that isn't easily stopped," He reflected and his thoughts briefly settled on Tomoe and Enishi.

"Nonetheless one would think that, the scars would be buried over time, just as the bodies would," The voice stated, before continuing, "Time buries everything eventually, makes us forget things; even things that should never be forgotten." Kenshin grit his teeth at the voice.

"Was that supposed to comfort me?" Kenshin thought to himself.

"Hey look guy—" Sano started, but Kenshin put a hand on his shoulder, silently telling him he would handle it.

"What is your name?" He asked the man.

"Kaito Nagakura. My brother was Shinpachi Nagakura, captain of squad two of the Shinsengumi." He spoke with quiet anger.

"I remember him, he fought well, for what he believed in," Kenshin commented quietly

"Yes, but no match for a blade such as yours, right Hitokiri?" Kenshin said nothing.

"Just . . . Just why! Why did you take my little brother from me? What gave you the right?" He demanded, Kenshin felt his Ki spike and shifted into a defense position.

"That was never my intention, we were on opposing sides it was just a sad twist in fate that our swords crossed. I am sorry." Inside he couldn't help but feel like he deserved every cruel words or punch the guy could throw, despite what he said. This was the part of the product of his hard work in the Bakumatsu. He had brought this on himself, but if he did allow this kind of justice, the cycle would never stop, and the man would never find inner peace with violence.

"We were so proud when we heard he was a samurai. . . . .I remember Okaa-san bragging to her friends at the market . . . . No one had the right to take him away from us!" This was killing Ki he sensed emanating from Kaito.

"I'll kill you for that!" He spat out. Kenshin settled in the familiar Battou-jutsu stance, prepared for anything. The man didn't appear to have a katana, the only thing visible was a small snow white dagger, that appeared to be carved out of stone, tied around his neck, and a small wakizashi. Suddenly he threw some small round ball to the ground and smoke filled the air around Kenshin.

"Kenshin!" He heard Sano's worried call.

"Shit, that's not good. " He couldn't run out, because he could risk involving any of the neighbors, so he leapt up into the air, out of the smoke, and scanned the area for Kaito. A knife, attached to a long, thin chain, flew towards him from the smoke, briefly catching him off guard, as he hurriedly blocked it with his sword. The chain wrapped around his sword and grew taut, restricting his movement. He had no chance at blocking the second throwing knife that whizzed into his side. He gasped in pain as he fell back into the rapidly dispersing smoke. The chain, quickly slackened and was pulled back into a waiting Kaito's arms.

"Great he predicted that I would go up instead of around, that means he probably knows I don't want to involve others in the fight." He grit his teeth. "He might use that against me." A low whistle echoed in his mind.

"Kenshin!" He heard Sano's worried call,

"Wow a Kyoketsu-Shoge, haven't seen one of those in a while. It's especially see to see one with a chain. That must have been what we thought the wakizashi was. " The voice in his head said, tone analytical. Kenshin growled,

"Not even remotely helpful, I think it's actually counter-productive, because you're distracting me!" He riled, outwardly he frowned when he realized that Kaito already had another smoke ball poised to throw.

"Calm down, Rurouni, look, that idiot is probably so happy he landed a hit, he'll just keep trying the same attack. The biggest advantage that guy has, is being hidden in the smoke, and the fact that you're too much of a self-sacrificing dumbass, to go to the side (I call THAT counter-productive). So basically you won't know where he is until he attacks."

"Yeah, yeah, what's your point?" Kenshin asked.

"Follow the chain you idiot!" Kenshin would've hit himself at his own denseness, before he realized A: He was in the middle of a fight and B: He would look like a crazy person.

Coming back to reality, he prepared himself for the next attack, like expected Kaito threw the smoke bomb again and Kenshin jumped back into the air. When the kyoketsu flew towards him, he blocked, letting it easily wrap around his sword. Reaching out with his Ki he sensed Kaito's and waited for the spike that would come with the second attack.

"Got to time this just right or he'll still have that damn knife when I close in, and I really don't need him throwing that at my face today."

Right as he felt it, he yanked sharply on the chain, and felt the knife graze a few hairs, but still, a miss is a miss. He felt the voice's grin at his success. He quickly grabbed the chain, and sheathed the sword.

Then, using the momentum he got, from using his own Battou-jutsu in the air, he entered a spinning arc, guided by the chain, and his blunt sword hit Kaito squarely in the chest. Kaito spat blood at the ground, Kenshin kneeled exhausted, adrenaline leaving him and a dull throbbing from the wound, permeating his entire body.

"Nice job, Kenshin!" Sano said pumping a fist in the air.

"W-why?" Kaito asked, weather it was for why he was alive, or why his brother wasn't Kenshin didn't know. He felt he had to respond any way's though.

"Were it not for this Sakbatou you would be dead. In fact if we do not hurry and get you treated, you might die anyways."

"That goes for both of us," He thought wincing, he had lost too much blood and already his sight was getting blurry. He shook himself, trying to stay alert.

"N-no. This isn't fair . . . You shouldn't be alive!" Kaito cried out towards the grey sky, tears falling down his face. The injustice was almost too much for him to handle.

Kenshin gave a weary sigh, his eyes slipping up to the slate colored firmament. He understood. Entirely and wholly.

He was beginning to wonder if he could ever truly leave his past behind him. The way it followed him though, he almost doubted it.

Either way, now was not the time for these thoughts, he needed to save Kaito. Pulling his eyes away from the darkened horizon, he offered what he hoped came off as a soft, understanding smile.

"I carry this Sakbatou as my own way for atoning for those lives taken in the war. I promised myself that I would never kill again. Also, that in my own way, I can protect the people around me." He smiled tiredly.

"I imagine your brother, probably wanted the same thing. He probably wanted to protect you." Kaito was quiet, but Kenshin could still see the tears running down his face. He had lost the will, it was over. He slowly approached the man, setting a calming hand on his back.

"Saa, let's get you patched up. A good friend of mine is a wonderful doctor, I'm sure sh—"

"Kenshin watch out!" Kenshin tried to jump back, but it was too late, Kaito wrapped the chain around Kenshin's wrist and pulled him up, knife to his throat.

"Kenshin! Why you! . . . " Sano growled in frustration.

"Don't even think about moving, or do you not care what happens to your friend?"

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid," In his mind Kenshin was furiously banging his head against the walls.

"Good job Rurouni, now we both get to die! " The voice was showing images of throttling him.

"And that's very productive! Help me think of a way out of this!" Kenshin hissed. He felt the figurative light bulb go off in his counter parts mind.

"Saitou had you like this once before, how did you get out of it last time?" Kenshin's eyes widened

"The sheath!" Using his other wrist he jammed the sheath down, making the back fly into an unsuspecting Kaito's jaw.

Kaito growled recovering quicker than Kenshin expected, and using the pale, bone dagger tied around his neck, he stabbed Kenshin again, through the side.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" He screamed out in pain, flinging the dagger away, as he kicked Kaito back. The weirdest feeling began to overtake him and as he looked down, he noticed his hands were glowing with a pale white sheen, the ground was glowing too. Was it just him, or was he sinking?

He heard Sano's scream, but it was too late, he was already falling.

The first thing he noticed was the pain.

"Wow, you really know how to handle a situation." The voice remarked, exasperatedly.

"S-s-shut up." The pain made itdifficult to even think, let alone, assemble some kind of intelligent response.

He was aware of the people around him, but couldn't seem to grasp the words they were saying, they all were flying above his head. He cracked one of his eyes open, and thought he saw a bunch of children crowded around him, but children usually didn't have beards. The old guy was looked like he was wearing sheets. Maybe he had most too much blood.

"Oh gee, ya think?" The voice rang sarcastically, unable to feel the physical pain.

"W-where?" He managed to rasp out. They didn't seem to understand, the old man (who, to his inner embarrassment, realized was holding him like a child) tried speaking to him. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't understand . . ." A sharp jab of pain ripped through his body and he fruitlessly clutched at his still bleeding side.

"Ouch!"

One of the short ones spoke again, and the old man carefully pried his hand away from his side.

They began chattering again, but he felt his eyelids beginning to close, despite his best effort, and fell into blissful unconsciousness.

And he dreamt of death.

The harsh glare of the sun is what rescued Kenshin from his nightmares. He sat up with a start, and he reached panicedly towards the belt of his pant for his sword, only to realize, not only was his sword not there, but he also was not wearing any pants. His underwear was still there thankfully.

He squeaked a little embarrassedly at this realization, but that was a bad move, as the wound in his side didn't like the sharp intake of air. He gasped in pain and doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"Deep breathing Rurouni, c'mon do it with me, in and out, in and out. That's better, isn't it?" The voice asked boredly. The voice, was really just a manifestation of one side of Kenshin's psyche, since there was nothing shared physically between the two, the voice was free from any pain. He was the perfect advisor during a fight, his mind was always clear, even from the haze of near-death wounds.

"What's going on? Where am I . . . . and where are my pants?" He wondered to himself, after he got his breath under control. He looked around the room; it was very homey, with warm brown colors and hard wooden floors. There were a few bookshelves shoved into a corner, books sticking out in every-which way. The characters on the spine didn't look even remotely familiar, but then again, he wasn't the most literate person around. His master didn't believe reading was a skill worth wasting time on.

A small squeak brought him to the corner of the room where he noticed one of the little children was watching him with bright blue eyes. Was it a child? Maybe it was a very short adult; (If the stubble on his chin was anything to go by) He of all people shouldn't be one to judge.

"He was there last night, huh?" He cleared his throat and made an attempt and communicating with the blue-eyed child/very short man.

"Umm hello. Where am I?" He threw in a smile, just for effect. Blue just stared, before saying something that sounded like a question, at least to Kenshin's ears. It was his turn to blink.

"What?" He tried again. Blue made a gesture with his hand, for him to stay there before he ran quickly out the door.

"I feel like a dog." He thought a little sullenly, mostly frustrated at the language barrier.

"Oh, get over yourself, like it's any better than when you're with that Kaoru girl." The voice sneered, Kenshin growled and he was pretty sure he felt the temperature drop.

"DON'T speak about Kaoru-dono, that way!" He seethed at himself.

"I'll say whatever I wanna say about that bitch!" The voice shot back with just as much vehemence.

"Don't call her that!" He shouted out loud, before freezing when he realized he was no longer alone. There were three people in the room, watching him with varying expressions from amusement to looking frightful.

"We'll finish this later." He promised, shoving his dark thoughts to the back of his mind. He was pretty sure he felt the voice make some rude gestures with his hands before leaving himself.

There was the tall old man he recognized from earlier, the sheets were still there. He managed to get a better look at blue, whom was, as he thought very short, (especially by comparison of the tall old man), his nice blue eyes were framed by curly wild, locks or brunette hair, that Kenshin openly admired. Brunette's were very rare in Japan, blue eyes even rarer, his thoughts flickered to Kaoru. He wondered briefly, if he might be a foreigner. Then, once again, he really wasn't one to judge such a thing. The last man, looked elderly, and the wrinkles practically shouted "Old!" but he was still short as blue. Speaking of, he noticed they shared the same blue eyes, so maybe the shortness was hereditary.

The short ones wore clothes similar to some of the western clothes he's seen, so maybe he was in the west.

Remembering they were staring at him, he scratched his head, trying to look sheepish.

"I'm sorry." He tried to show he was apologizing through his tone. The tall man seemed to grasp it as he smiled kindly in response.

The taller of the two old men pointed to himself and spoke.

"Ga-n-do-fu?" Kenshin struggled a little with the unusually wide vowels. The man nodded a little hesitatingly .

The excitable old man went next and spoke a strange sound.

"Bi—Bo?" He frowned and shook his head and spoke again, and Kenshin tried to copy the foreign enunciation, but it didn't seem quite right. This left the other looking decidedly put out.

The last and quietest of the trio touched his hand to his heart and spoke.

"Fu-Ro-Do?" He received a smile. This one was the most normal sounding, and he was slightly happy at the small comfort. The older man huffed again, making Kenshin give him a curious look.

"Strange names" Nonetheless he didn't sense any bad Ki, and it they had, after all patched him back up.

He smiled and tapped his chest.

"Kenshin."

Hey, so the next chapter is in fact written. I will post it in a bit. I mean this crossover is more than a little obscure so I'm not expecting a whole lot of reviews.

Uh, if you want to leave one though, it would be very appreciated.

REview?