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An Unexpected Lesson: Chapter 7

by Conspirator ::: 03.Jul.2004

Morning dawned crisp and clear, and the air had that clean smell that only comes after there’s been a good, drenching rain. The effect, as Kenshin emerged sleepy-eyed from the warehouse, was positively bracing. He pulled his gi tightly around him as the cold morning chill seeped through the thin fabric. After sleeping in the relative warmth of the warehouse, he had forgotten just how cold it had gotten the previous evening, and so he hadn’t thought to slip on an extra gi for warmth. He headed for the well and drew up a bucket, intending to quickly wash his face and hair, but the cold air got the better of him. He decided to bring the bucket inside, where he could at least warm up by the small stove while he dried off.

Baiko was just coming out to do his own morning routine as Kenshin carried his bucket in. Immediately, Kenshin could sense that something was wrong. Baiko had always been unfailingly cheerful and talkative, but this morning Baiko’s face was taut and his eyes grim. Like Kenshin, he too headed for the well to draw up a bucket for washing. Unlike Kenshin, however, he poured the cold water over his head without hesitation and then, after a muttered curse at the shock of the cold, walked directly back into the warehouse without saying a word.

It was none of Kenshin’s business, of course. Everyone had their bad mornings, and Kenshin knew all too well that it was usually because of something one didn’t want to discuss, so he ignored his companion’s unusual behavior and went ahead with his own quick wash-up. Even doing so by the warmth of the fire, he found the water to be exceedingly cold, and he shook his head vigorously to shake off as much of the frigid water as he could. How in the world had Baiko managed to stand pouring such cold water over himself, he wondered, as he luxuriated in the warmth of the fire. It took all his will power to turn away from that lovely warmth, but turn away he finally did to grab his new green gi as well as his old brown one—he would need both today to keep warm.

It was as he was looking for the brown one that he noticed Baiko sitting stony-faced and still, sheathed katana in his lap and staring off into space. There was no doubt about it—something was definitely wrong.

"Baiko?" Kenshin said tentatively.

Baiko didn’t answer.

"Baiko, is something the matter?" Kenshin asked again.

Baiko didn’t budge, and Kenshin was about to leave him to his own thoughts when Baiko said, "Himura, you believe in premonitions?"

"Premonitions?"

"You know, the feeling something awful’s about to happen."

"Sessha learned long ago never to ignore such feelings," he replied. "Why?"

"Well, I’ve got a premonition, about today."

"So does this one," Kenshin responded evenly, "but sessha also learned it does no good to worry about them. If nothing else, they remind us not to let our guard down."

Baiko turned to look at Kenshin, and Kenshin was surprised to find in his gaze not fear of what might happen later, but something that looked almost like sadness.

"Is it the yakuzas?" Kenshin asked when Baiko said nothing.

"You ever hear what happened up in Aizu, when the war ended up there?" Baiko finally said. "The whole province—even the women—they just refused to admit defeat, wanted to die instead. But the clincher was this one group—the White Tiger Brigade, they called themselves. They were holed up on a hill after our final victory, but instead of surrendering, they all committed seppuku—nineteen of them, all teenagers. It was our division who found them."

Baiko clenched his eyes shut as if trying to block out the image. Then he said, "Himura, it was terrible—they were just boys, all disemboweled, some of them headless, and for what? Some antiquated notion of honor? I’m no samurai—I don’t see the honor in a bunch of boys slaughtering themselves, and we weren’t even attacking them at the time! That’s when I decided I’d had enough of war—of death! I wanted to leave the army right then and there, but they wouldn’t let me, made me go on with them to Hokkaido. I thought maybe now, three years later, I was getting over it, but then yesterday, when I saw the blood on that basket, and now the prospect of having to fight these yakuzas…."

He gave a huge sigh and said, "Himura, it’s not that I’m afraid to fight—I’ll give as good as I get, don’t you worry about that! It’s just that I never want to have to see anything like that ever again. Even now I still get nightmares about what I saw."

"So does this one," Kenshin murmured softly.

"Aa, I know," Baiko said, a small smile tugging involuntarily at his mouth. At Kenshin’s surprised look, he added, "You make a hell of a lot of noise when you sleep, you know."

Kenshin knew it was true, so he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Baiko stood up now, his mood lightened somewhat, and he started walking towards the door to go to breakfast. As Kenshin fell into step with him, Baiko said, "You know, we’re damaged goods, you and I—we’ve seen too much blood and death."

Kenshin nodded his head in agreement.

"Does it ever get any better?" Baiko asked.

It was a question Kenshin couldn’t really answer. "We can only hope," he replied wistfully.

They covered the short distance to the inn in silence, both hoping that the lively chatter that was a hallmark of the Daisuke family would lift their spirits. If nothing else, Kenshin knew that watching the children drive their parents crazy at breakfast would brighten Baiko’s mood, as well as his own, but as they entered the small dining room, they were met with a grim silence. They were used to seeing all the families sitting and chatting amiably with each other, but now they were all off at their own tables and barely looking at each other. Even the children looked grim. Baiko stopped short at the doorway, not sure whether to enter or not, but Ikuko curtly waved them in, then proceeded to place some food on a table for them.

"Is something the matter, Ikuko-san?" Baiko asked before Ikuko walked away. "Is someone ill or something?"

"Ill?" she repeated curtly. "No. Angry might be more like it. Husband has given First Son permission to move back to Kyoto." She shot a withering glance at Orinosuke, who sat with his back towards everyone. It didn’t take a genius to sense that the man was consumed with anger. Ikuko stormed away without saying another word.

Baiko and Kenshin looked at each other. The same thought was going through their minds—better stay out of Orinosuke’s way today! They started to eat, but the atmosphere in the room was too oppressive. Baiko motioned towards the door, and he and Kenshin quietly picked up their bowls and headed outside to sit on the engawa. The early morning chill, they decided, was infinitely more preferable to them than the morose atmosphere inside. They sat and ate in silence, but the silence lasted only a few minutes, for not long after they sat down, Daisuke and the innkeeper found them. Baiko and Kenshin quickly put their bowls down so they could bow properly, but Daisuke waved the bows away.

"I’ve been talking with our host here," Daisuke said. "Seems they got a report this morning that the yakuzas terrorized a farm family north of here last night."

"North? That’s the direction we’re going!" Baiko said quickly. His premonition, he thought grimly, was coming true. "Anyone killed?"

"No," the innkeeper replied with relief, "but they were threatened. Seems the bandits came in and threatened to slit Gekko-san’s throat if his family didn’t turn over everything they had just harvested. They said it was to pay for insurance to make sure nothing bad happened to Jiro-san over the winter. Can you believe the nerve? Well, of course the family did what they were told—what else could they do?—but those cowards beat Gekko-san within an inch of his life anyway before they left."

"How many?" Kenshin asked.

"And how’d you find out?" Baiko added.

"His wife sent for the doctor as soon as she thought it was safe—the doctor’s the one who told us about it this morning. Five men, she said, but she thinks there are more out there somewhere because they said something about reporting back to their bosses."

The innkeeper now turned to Daisuke. "Please, Daisuke-sama, don’t go on that road! We’ve already sent some men to the army base east of here—they’ll reach it by this evening. Let the army try to find this scum and capture them first!"

Daisuke shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, but we must reach Miyazaki by tonight. The bosses the farmer’s wife mentioned are probably the disgraced samurai we heard about from the other side of the mountain—Nobu by name. We were told at our last stop that they’ve become criminals and are extorting money all over the area. It sounds like they’re not dirtying their own hands, though, so maybe it’s really only the five bandits who raided the farm that we have to worry about. We’ve got five good men of our own—two of my sons, myself, and these two men here—and we all know how to use a sword. I think we’ll be able to hold our own, if worst comes to worst."

"But Daisuke-sama….!"

"We have no choice," Daisuke said with a finality that ended the conversation.

The innkeeper bowed and took his leave, sighing and wringing his hands as he went.

"Our host worries that if we’re attacked, Shimazu-sama will somehow blame it on him," Daisuke said with a dark laugh when the man was out of earshot.

"Well, he’s got a point," Baiko responded. "I mean, about us being attacked. I’ve had this feeling ever since I woke up this morning that something’s gonna happen to us today. Haven’t felt it this bad since I was in the army."

Daisuke sighed. "What other choice do we have?" he said in a resigned voice. "We’re scheduled to perform in Miyazaki tomorrow—a command performance—and that’s that. Anyway, it would be dishonorable to cower in the face of something we’re not sure will even happen. I’ve talked this over with my sons. We all agree we should travel as planned but take extra precautions just in case. And if we are attacked, it’s been decided that we will fight back. Five against five—that’s not bad odds."

"But…," Baiko started to say.

Daisuke turned a steely eye on his security guard. "I know what you’re about to say—that my sons and I would be useless in a fight." Baiko was about to protest, but Daisuke stopped him. "First Son overheard what you said the other day, and I can understand why you’d think so, but let me reassure you—my sons and I are all trained in the martial arts. You may only see us doing the kata for kabuki swordplay, but when we’re home in Kagoshima, we all train weekly at a dojo. And with two former soldiers like yourselves to help…." He turned to Kenshin and added, "You are a former soldier, aren’t you?"

Kenshin was about to answer when Baiko suddenly guffawed. Former soldier? Hell, what would Daisuke do if he knew just which soldier this was!

A look of doubt crossed Daisuke’s face. "My grandson Bunjiro told me you were a former soldier, and my wife was so sure that you were…."

"Hai, I am a former soldier," Kenshin said quickly as he gave a warning look to Baiko. All he needed now was to have Baiko inadvertently give away his identity.

Daisuke looked relieved. "Imperial, Bunjiro-chan tells me."

"Hai, Imperial," Kenshin confirmed.

"Well, that’s fine—you had me worried there for a moment, because if you weren’t a soldier, then that would really be only four of us up against five thieves, and those odds aren’t so good. So, then, that’s settled." Then he clapped both men on the back and left.

"Why doesn’t this make me feel any better?" muttered Baiko. He stuffed another portion of breakfast into his mouth, then stood to leave. "Come on, Himura, let’s get going. Might as well get on the road sooner rather than later."

Within an hour, they were on the road again, despite the desperate last-minute protests of the innkeeper. Daisuke, however, was not taking any chances. He ordered the man he considered to be his best swordsman, Baiko, to walk on the side of the wagon where Kenshin had been the previous days and moved Kenshin, whom he considered to be a swordsman of unknown capability, to the rear. The women, instead of walking next to their husbands, were also moved to the rear, where they could be hustled into the wagon quickly in case of attack. As for the children, the two oldest, Bunjiro and Byako, were told to stay with the women, much to their dismay, while the youngest were ordered to ride in the wagon—no wandering around or playing for them today!

Kenshin had never had to guard a wagon from behind before. Given the level of his skill, he had always been detailed by the Ishin Shishi to the front of a convoy or, at worst, the side. Now he saw why Baiko had been so annoyed at being given this position—it was impossible to see anything up ahead. As they walked down the road, Kenshin of course cast out his senses for any hint of danger, but he felt crippled by the inability to use his eyesight as well. He tried walking to the left of the wagon, then to the right, but who could tell what split-second clue he might miss in the meantime?

As for sensing ki, it was a major annoyance to have to cut his way through the mass of emotions coming from the women. He remembered how, long ago, he wondered if women even had a ki. He knew better now, of course, and these women certainly proved the point. From the usually sunny Noriko, he could sense unease, and from the normally placid Mei, a feeling close to tears. It wasn’t worry over yakuzas up ahead that bothered them, he could tell, but the possible break-up of this extended family. As for Orinosuke’s wife Mayako, he didn’t need to sense her ki—he could tell just by looking at her that her overweaning pride had been wounded by the argument between her husband and his father. And as for Ikuko, he now knew where Orinosuke got his temper from, for her ki was boiling almost as much as her son’s had been when he had taken out after Kenshin the previous day.

So, it was with not a little trepidation that he saw Ikuko move back to fall into step with him. He had only known Ikuko as a friendly, rather motherly woman, but now her jaw had a hard set to it. It reminded him of some illustrations he had seen once of a fierce warrior. He nodded to her as she joined him.

"Shameful," she said to him through gritted teeth. "It was shameful what he did to you."

"Pardon?" responded a somewhat confused Kenshin. He had been expecting a tirade, not this.

"First Son—what he did to you yesterday," she continued. "Husband told me all about it last night. Putting a sword to your throat—shameful!"

Kenshin relaxed a bit as he realized that she wasn’t angry with him. "No harm came to anyone," he reassured her.

She looked at him now with a gaze that made him feel like she was trying to read his ki. Not knowing if she had the ability or not, he quickly concealed his thoughts from her scrutiny. Then she said, "Husband tells me you showed great restraint when First Son drew his sword against you." She looked at him sharply to gauge his reaction; she saw only a slight tensing of his jaw. "In fact," she continued, "he says you didn’t even flinch. You’re either a very brave young man or a very foolish one to meet such a threat so calmly."

She saw his jaw tense a little more. A strange reaction, she thought.

"Himura-san," she went on, "most men would have drawn their swords at what First Son did, and who knows what might have happened then. It’s no secret that I am very angry at him for tearing this family apart, but he is my son. I am grateful to you for showing such restraint."

Kenshin relaxed slightly. For a moment there, he thought Orinosuke might have mentioned his suspicions to her. As it was, he didn’t really know what to say in response. If only she knew how much will-power it had taken to hold back his killer instinct at that attack. "I had no wish to make the situation worse," he finally said lamely.

They walked along a bit more in silence. Then she said, "I would never presume to ask what led you to take the path of a rurouni. I do know that should you wish to leave that path, you could be assured of a job with us in Kagoshima. You are traveling back to Kagoshima with us, aren’t you?"

Kenshin hesitated a moment, then said, "Sessha thinks that might not be wise, under the circumstances."

"Because of First Son? No, I think now that his father has offered him the freedom to return to Kyoto, his anger will wither away. He won’t cause any more problems for you." She patted his hand and said, "You think about it." Then she went to rejoin her daughters-in law.

He watched with a sinking feeling in his heart as she walked back towards the wagon. His position, he realized, was becoming increasingly untenable. There was no way, of course, that he could accept her offer. Even if by some miracle Orinosuke didn’t discover his true identity, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone else did. He didn’t like to contemplate what might happen then—there was no denying that people had been killed just because they had shown kindness towards him. It hurt him to admit it, for it had been a very long time since anyone had made him feel so accepted and welcome. He realized suddenly that while he wasn’t looking, these people had somehow woven him into the very fabric of their family, that somehow, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, they seemed to care about him. He began to feel a longing he hadn’t felt in a long time—the longing for a home and a family.

No sooner did he think it, though, than the darkness of his past swirled in to claim him. Beneath his calm exterior, he knew, there still lurked the skill and ruthlessness of the hitokiri he used to be. It was no accident that he never stayed in one place very long. Who could tell if or when that ruthlessness might unleash itself, might cause the death of someone he held dear, just as it had done to the only person he had ever loved. If he had been told, when Katsura first asked him to deliver heaven’s justice to the enemies of the Ishin Shishi, that by saying yes he would forever forfeit the chance to know happiness, would he still have said yes?

He shook his head—he had to stop with the ‘what-ifs.’ What was done, was done; all he could do now was live with the consequences. He had promised Daisuke he would stay and help the family until Ennosuke could return to the stage; tomorrow would be the big performance for Shimazu-sama in Miyazaki. He resolved that no matter what, he would take his leave after that. He just prayed that no one discovered his identity in the meantime.

His resolve now firmly in place, he turned his full attention back to the road. One thing became immediately clear—unlike the small country road they had traveled on the previous days, this one was a main highway, yet still they seemed to be the lone travelers. The small shops and stalls that lined the road for the first few miles out of town were all shuttered, except for one or two lone vegetable stands. Yet the town they left was apparently a main destination for people in the Miyazaki area who enjoyed hot springs. Most roads of this size, he also knew, were usually kept immaculately clean and manicured, but it looked like no one had tended this road for several days. They passed two small villages in short order, but at their approach, he saw the farmers and townsfolk rush inside their houses and lock their gates. There could be no doubt about it—the bandits had been active in the area and, by the look of things, relatively recently.

He slowly began to feel the tense edginess that had been his constant companion during those long years of the Bakumatsu—that state of hyper-alertness in which his every nerve was attuned to the slightest change in his surroundings. They were walking into danger, and it was his job to protect from that danger. If that meant unleashing the power of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, then so be it, even if that meant revealing who he really was. He would not let this family be harmed.

The morning seemed to pass at a snail’s pace as he searched every inch of road with his eyes and strained his ears to catch the slightest unusual sound. His concentration never wavered until Orinosuke’s two boys suddenly got into a fistfight and fell backwards, almost knocking him over. He quickly sidestepped the flailing mass of arms and legs, then reached down and grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks. The boys continued shouting at each other until their mother, Mayako, ran up, horrified by their behavior, and smacked them both on the face. Kenshin quickly dropped the boys and stood before them to prevent her hitting them again.

"Move aside, Himura-san," she growled dangerously. "It’s time I put a stop to this foolishness."

He didn’t move.

"Out of my way!" she sputtered angrily. She was not used to being crossed by anyone! Then she saw that the wagon was leaving them behind, so she reached out to grab the boys and drag them forward.

"If Mayako-dono would allow," Kenshin said as he continued to stand in her way, "sessha will put them to work so they won’t fight anymore."

She glared back at him. "How dare you interfere!" she hissed. Then, as if all the stuffing had suddenly come out of her, she sighed. "Perhaps that would be best," she said, defeat her voice. "They have been nothing but trouble since Husband told them last night that we might be moving to Kyoto." She glared at her sons once more, then warned them, "Himura-san has my permission to do whatever he needs to keep you from fighting, you understand?"

The boys muttered ‘yes,’ then turned back to glaring at each other as she walked away, shoulders uncharacteristically slumped. Kenshin now turned to the boys and said, "Do you realize that the two of you have endangered this entire convoy with your behavior?"

"But he said it was my fault we have to move to Kyoto!" Bunjiro burst out. "He said it was because I wanted to be a soldier!" And he tried again to land a punch on his brother.

Kenshin grabbed him by the arm and looked him in the eye.

"Bunjiro-san," he said in his sternest voice, "if you persist in wanting to be a soldier, then it’s high time you acted like one. Control your emotions!"

Bunjiro stared at him in surprise, then immediately stood up straight and said, "Hai, gunshou-san."

"And that goes for you, too, Byako-san," Kenshin added when Byako started to laugh at his brother’s behavior. "And I meant what I said about putting you to work. It’s high time you helped keep us safe on this road. You know there may be great danger ahead, but we have no way of knowing where or when. You will help me search for the bandits that may be lying in wait."

"We will?" Bunjiro said in a surprised voice.

"Bunjiro-san, you will take the right side of the wagon, Byako-san the left. Sessha needs you to watch for any signs of unusual movement—birds that have been startled out of the trees, animals that have been scared out of the grass—anything that makes you think a human is hiding up ahead. Sessha can only look down one side of the road at a time—you two will be my eyes and ears while this one is on the other side."

"Wow," Bunjiro whistled softly as the importance of the task became clear to him.

"Yeah, wow," Byako repeated in the same hushed voice.

He pushed them off to their respective posts, chuckling as he watched them start to emulate the swagger of the men in front of them. As he expected, they started informing him of every little ripple of grass or flight of a bird, but after about fifteen minutes they settled down nicely, reporting only truly interesting sights, like a flock of birds that suddenly took to the air and two chipmunks who unexpectedly darted across the road. And in truth, these were occurrences he himself would have noted. Both times he cast out all his senses for any hints of danger. He found none, but he was still left with the growing feeling that the bandits were not far off. It was nothing he could put his finger on, but long experience told him not to ignore his intuition.

It was more than an hour after he had set the boys to scouting when he finally felt it—the unmistakable feeling that they were being watched. Byako had just sighted a family of quail that had suddenly shot out onto the road from the underbrush. Kenshin had been on the other side of the wagon at the time, but he managed, even from his vantage point, to see the panic of the birds as they flapped across the road. No one else, not even Baiko, seemed to think much of it, but he knew better. He crossed over to Byako’s side of the wagon and scanned the undergrowth and the thicket behind it. There, in a tree far down the road, he could just make out a slight movement in the crotch of the tree. Whoever it was seemed to make no move to come down, but the ki was hostile. He motioned to Bunjiro to come over.

"Bunjiro-san, an important job for you," he said quietly. "Sessha needs you to get Baiko-san, but you must do it so that no one, not even your mother, knows you are doing it. And tell Baiko-san he must do likewise."

"Hai, Kenshin-gunshou," Bunjiro whispered theatrically, and he sauntered off, for all the world looking like he was just out for a walk. A good actor, Kenshin noted.

Baiko, for his part, just slowed his walking until Kenshin came abreast of him. The two didn’t even look at each other as Kenshin said softly, "We’re being watched."

Baiko showed no reaction, but he said, "So you feel it, too."

"Aa," Kenshin replied. "There’s someone in one of the trees on Ryosuke-san’s side of the wagon, down near that bend in the road. It’s too far for me to tell yet how many there are."

Baiko glanced off in the direction Kenshin mentioned. "I don’t see a thing," he said, "but I can feel it in my bones. Maybe we better get the women in the wagon now, while they can’t see us doing it. I’ll have Ennosuke-san slow down so they can get in without our having to stop. And you let Ryosuke-san know. I’ll take care of telling Daisuke-san and Orinosuke-san."

Kenshin nodded his head imperceptably, and the two separated as inconspicuously as they had come together. The boys had been watching the whole time, so he silently motioned them over.

"We are being watched by the bandits," he informed them quietly, "and now you must do exactly as sessha tells you, without question."

They nodded solemnly.

"Byako-san, you are to walk over to your uncle Ryosuke-san to tell him this news, but you must do it so that it looks like you are merely going for a stroll with your uncle. And you must tell your uncle that he must show no reaction whatsoever—just to be ready for whatever might happen. Bunjiro-san, as the wagon slows down, you are to help the women to get in, even though the wagon’s still moving. Tell them to keep the children inside as quiet as possible. When you have have finished your assignments, you must join the women in the wagon."

"But….!"

Kenshin turned a stern eye on the boys. "A soldier never questions his orders! You are needed to guard the opening to the wagon. You both have your bokkens. If anyone attacks, you will be up high enough that you should be able to whack any attacker on the head. Now, go!"

He watched as Byako skipped seemingly nonchalantly over to Ryosuke and pulled on his sleeve. The man bent down to listen, then patted the boy on the head and gave him a push to send him back to Kenshin. It looked for all the world like a normal conversation. He was struck once again by what good actors even the children of this family were. Bunjiro, for his part, was all business as he helped the women into the wagon. The women seemed surprised at first, but they quickly followed his orders once they saw Kenshin nod his approval.

The wagon picked up speed again once the women were safely inside, and as it came closer to the bend in the road, Kenshin could sense the presence of several men—five or six, from what he could tell—but still there was no sign of movement on their part. As the wagon was just about to start around the bend, his eyes finally caught a flash of color dropping from a tree into the brush, and the bending of the branches of an overgrown bush as someone pushed by it. Now he could tell there was more than one group of men—six near the road, another two—or was it three?—somewhat farther behind. He strained to catch that last, faint hint of ki, but it was gone. Maybe he was getting rusty after three years of wandering, but he could have sworn there was a third ki there….

They rounded the corner now to find three of the men blocking the road, swords drawn. The wagon stopped as Daisuke and Orinosuke walked forward to meet them. Ryosuke, who was standing forward of Kenshin, moved slightly closer to hear what they were saying, but Kenshin’s whole attention was riveted to the thicket at his side, for his keen ears had picked up the sounds of movement, and he could sense the ki of the other three men. As long as they made no move, however, he decided that he, too, would make no move. It was entirely possible, he figured, that all these bandits wanted was to extort some money from unsuspecting travelers, and that once paid, they would let the wagon go on its way.

Suddenly, there were shouts from the front as one of the men grabbed Daisuke by the neck from behind. Ryosuke ran forward to aid his father and brother, but as he did, the three men shot out from the thicket and made for the back of the wagon.

"Ryosuke, no!" Kenshin shouted as he realized what was going on. The blockade had been a ruse—a trick designed to draw the men to the front while the rest of the bandits raided from the rear! From the corner of his eye, he noted that Daisuke had just flipped his attacker over his head, and that Baiko and Ryosuke had joined Orinosuke to engage the other two swordsmen, but it would be too late before they realized that the real danger was back here.

Kenshin now ran with lightening speed towards the three attackers as they emerged from the thicket onto the road. Before they could even register his presence, he was upon them. The men were clumsy, not even fast enough to draw their swords in time, but Kenshin showed no mercy. With one broad, upward swing of his sakabatou, he sent the first man flying. The second man tried to stop himself in time to run away, but Kenshin was too fast—with his downward stroke, he hit the man across the spine, breaking his back. The man crumpled like a rag doll. He was about to take care of the third man when he saw Ryosuke run up and begin a powerful roundhouse kick. Who knew Ryosuke was so accomplished at kempo, he thought briefly!

With the third man clearly under Ryosuke’s control, Kenshin turned his attention to the two powerful ki’s that now flared from deeper in the woods. And there was that hint of the third ki again—or was there a fourth? He flew forward at blinding speed, ignoring the branches and brambles tearing at his clothes and skin, until he found what he was looking for—two samurai hiding behind the barrier of a huge, downed tree trunk. He skidded to a stop and said, "Your comrades are defeated—it is time for this to end!"

He was about to make good on his threat when suddenly, from his left, he heard the sound of something whistling through the air. He spun around just in time to avoid being struck in the neck by a shuriken. A ninja! No wonder that third ki had been so elusive! But no sooner had he spun away from the left than he heard the sound of another shuriken coming from the right. A second ninja! These two samurai had bodyguards! He didn’t have time to twist away from this one, so he launched himself skyward. The second shuriken grazed only his shoulder, which was infinitely preferable to the alternative, he figured. He landed behind the two samurai, knowing that the ninjas would not dare throw anything in this direction lest they hit their employers by mistake.

"Red hair?" he heard one of the samurai sputter as they got a good look at him. "It can’t be…he’s supposed to be dead!…. Gods, it’s the Hitokiri Battousai!"

The two samurai frantically rose to attack now, but Kenshin had already started running away from them, trying to draw the two apart and to keep the ninjas from throwing anything else. He let the first samurai close the distance, then spun suddenly on his heel and unleashed a powerful downward blow that hit the man from his neck to his groin; the upswing caught him across the back, flinging him into a tree trunk. The man sank to the ground in a heap.

The second samurai was upon him now, a look of total shock on his face as he watched his brother fall, but he clearly had some formal training for he assumed what looked like a Jigen-style battoujutsu stance.

"You scum of the new government!" the samurai growled out angrily. "How dare you threaten the Nobu brothers!" Then he flew forward at Kenshin with all the speed he could muster.

Kenshin settled into battoujutsu stance as well and watched as the man came towards him. The man was running as fast as he could, but to Kenshin, it almost seemed like slow motion. He waited until the very last second, then drew out his blade in a blinding burst of speed. In less than a second, he had swept the man away with blows to his abdomen, chest, and neck. This man, too, crumpled to the ground.

Now Kenshin whirled around to find the ninjas, for with the two samurai defeated, he knew the ninjas would attack again. As he did, he saw Ryosuke arrive, but one of the ninjas saw him as well, for Kenshin saw a tell-tale flash of metal leave one of the trees.

"Ryosuke!" Kenshin shouted as he heard an unmistakable whir in the air. "Watch out—shuriken!"

Ryosuke immediately dropped to the ground, using his acrobatic skills to roll safely away. The shuriken clattered to the ground harmlessly. Now the ninja jumped down, clearly intent upon landing a lethal chop to Ryosuke’s neck. Ryosuke was quick, however. Once again he rolled away, then jumped up into a back flip to prepare for open-hand combat, but his skill was no match for the ninja. He tried to land a blow right below the ninja’s ribcage, but the ninja easily slipped behind and started whirling around to strike again. Just as the ninja was preparing his attack, though, Baiko burst into the clearing. It took him less than a second to realize Ryosuke’s predicament; he lunged forward and slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of the ninja’s neck, bringing him down.

Now Kenshin heard the sound of yet another shuriken sailing through the air from the other direction—the second ninja was not about to give up. It was a foolish move, for the shuriken showed Kenshin exactly which tree the ninja was hiding in. He easily evaded the weapon, then started flipping forward towards the ninja’s hiding place, making himself an impossible target to hit. As he landed, the ninja flew down at him, leg extended and aimed for Kenshin’s head. Kenshin quickly swung his sword in a huge, upward arc, hitting the man’s outstretched leg from underneath and flipping him backward. Then, before the man could hit the ground, Kenshin followed with a downward blow to the ninja’s arm just at the elbow, severing the man’s tendon. There would be no more shuriken-throwing from this man ever again. There was a sickening snap of breaking bones as the ninja fell heavily to the ground, his leg and mangled arm sticking out grotesquely at his side.

Kenshin looked up now to see Orinosuke running up, a bleeding gash on his arm, followed by Daisuke. They looked around in amazement at the scene, then rushed to check the state of the four unconscious attackers. It was only now that Kenshin realized that something was wrong. That little graze on his shoulder from the first shuriken was burning like fire, and his breathing felt unnaturally heavy. He knelt on the ground, trying to catch his breath but having trouble doing so.

"My god, what have you done?" he heard Orinosuke cry from the vicinity of one of the ninjas Kenshin had just defeated. It sounded foggy, like he had cotton in his ears. "You’ve killed them! Hitokiri! You’ve killed them!"

He felt someone grab his arm and pull him up, but his legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Then the hand was gone, and he sank back down to his knees.

"Orinosuke-san, stop it!" It was Baiko. "They’re all alive! He’s killed no one!"

"Orinosuke-san," Kenshin managed to say, "sessha does not kill."

"What the hell are you saying, man?" Orinosuke yelled. "Look at them!"

Kenshin slowly laid his sword on the ground in front of him so they all could see it. Why did it feel so heavy all of the sudden? "It is… a sakabatou," he panted. "It… cannot kill."

He saw, through a gathering fog, Baiko bend down to touch the dull edge—the side that should have been razor sharp. "Well, I’ll be damned—he’s right!" he heard him say, but it was like listening through water.

Now Baiko, too, realized that something was dreadfully wrong—Kenshin was as pale as death and beginning to sway on his knees. He rushed to Kenshin’s side and saw blood on the shoulder of his gi. He bent to touch it, but Kenshin said, "Don’t—there’s poison. A shuriken… poison."

"What?!"

"Baiko," Kenshin whispered, too weak now to do anything else, "quick—my travel bag… some water."

He heard a commotion around him now, shouts to the others, but all he knew was that his heart was slowing down, and he could barely breathe. The poison was working fast. Moments later, Baiko returned with the travel bag and Bunjiro in tow with a small bucket of water from the wagon’s water barrel and a cup.

"The packet with foxglove…," Kenshin panted. "Two pinches, in water…."

Baiko did as he was told, then helped Kenshin drink the concoction. The effect was immediate—his heart started pounding rapidly, and his breathing became less labored. The black that had started blotting out his vision began to clear away, and he became aware that the men, and some of the women, were surrounding him. Now he felt someone pull his two gi’s down from his shoulder and splash cold water over the wound. Then the tip of a sword as it cut through the clotted blood to form a fresh wound. More water now, then the feel of one of his healing salves. He looked up to see Baiko performing the work. He let him finish before attempting to stand, grabbing Baiko’s hand for support.

It was as he stood that it suddenly dawned on him that everyone was awfully quiet. He looked around to find everyone staring at him with incomprehension.

"He’ll have the government on our backs with this slaughter, you mark my words," he heard Orinosuke say.

"Stop it!" Daisuke hissed back. "The man just saved our family. Are you blind? There were ninjas, for heaven’s sake! And I thought there were only five or six swordsmen to worry about…." He shook his head, then turned to Kenshin and said, "Are you well enough to travel?"

"Aa," Kenshin answered, his breath coming in short huffs, but at least coming more easily. He took a few steps forward, feeling some strength returning to his legs. "I’m just tired now, that’s all."

He waved away the outstretched arms that were offered to help him walk—he needed to do this on his own—but he didn’t need to look back to know there were stares following him. Ryosuke’s ki, in particular, seemed particularly agitated—much more so than the others, and that was saying a lot. Well, Kenshin thought grimly as he walked, the man had just seen him in action; it was inevitable that what he saw would raise disturbing questions in his mind. As he reached the wagon, he saw Ikuko standing at the rear. For once, he reached out on his own to grasp her hand, for his legs were starting to shake from just this short walk.

"Himura-san! Are you all right?" she cried out. "Why, you’re injured! Children, quick—out of the way! We need to let Himura-san in!"

"Don’t touch him, Mother!" Orinosuke called as he ran up. "He’s a killer, I tell you! A demon! You don’t know what he’s done out there!"

Ryosuke grabbed Orinosuke roughly by the arm and spun him around. "Not a demon—he’s a master!" Then, turning to Kenshin, he said, almost accusingly, "Why didn’t you tell us you were a master swordsman?"

"No, Ryosuke-san, not a master," Kenshin said in a tired voice. "Sessha never got that far." Then he turned back to the wagon and slowly climbed in and sank down on the bench. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

Ryosuke now looked back at the fallen and bleeding bodies of the bandits. "Let’s get away from this godforsaken place," he said with a shudder.

"We can’t just leave these men here!" his wife Mei said in a horrified voice. "They might die!"

"Let them, then," said Orinosuke as he tended to the gash on his arm. "The villages around here seem to be fairly close together—there’s bound to be one not far from here. Let’s just get to the next one and tell them what’s happened. Let them deal with it."

"Good idea," agreed Daisuke. "Anata, you stay in the wagon with Himura-san, make sure he’s okay. The rest of you can walk—I think we’ll be safe enough now."

And so the caravan started down the road once again, relieved that the danger was past but clearly unsettled by what had transpired.

As Orinosuke had predicted, they came upon a fairly large town less than half an hour later. As with the other towns and villages they had passed through, the people on the edge of town ran for their houses at their approach and watched them with suspicious eyes so that Daisuke was forced to knock at a gate to ask for directions to a police station. When he told the man why he needed the directions, the man yelled, "Thank the gods—the bandits are gone!" and he did a little jig in celebration. Then he took Daisuke by the arm, saying "This is the happiest day of my life! Those bloodsuckers have killed business around here!" Then he led Daisuke off to find the authorities.

Kenshin was oblivious to it all—he had fallen into a deep sleep brought on by his near brush with death. His sleep, however, was not peaceful. At first, he tossed and turned due to the after-effects of the foxglove, which had made his heart race. Then he lay moaning as he began to sweat profusely, despite the coolness of the day. Ikuko tried to make him comfortable through it all, but as he lay sweating, she decided to take his two gi’s off and replace it with a thin yukata. It wasn’t very hard to do—he weighed next to nothing, compared to her own sons—and it did make him more comfortable. What she saw, however, reminded her once again how hard a life this young man must have led, for on his chest were three old scars from what looked like swords. She had taken a liking to Kenshin since he had come into their lives, and it broke her motherly heart now to think that he had had to endure such suffering during his short life. She sighed, then reached for her needle and thread to mend to tears the shuriken had made in the sleeves of the two gi.

Finally, much to Ikuko’s relief, Kenshin seemed to sleep more peacefully. The police had convinced them to stay for awhile to recover from their ordeal and to have lunch, and now it had been nearly two hours since the incident on the road. She fully expected that Kenshin would continue to sleep peacefully now and wake up refreshed.

Instead, Kenshin began muttering, then tossing and turning once again. He knew he had been asleep, but when he opened his eyes and looked around, he found himself not at an inn, where he expected to be, but on the battlefield of Toba Fushimi. It made no sense to him, but there he was amidst the smoke and fire of that hellish place. He quickly jumped to his feet and unsheathed his katana as wave upon wave of bakufu troops flew at him and his comrades. In short order, he had killed dozens, and he felt his heart pounding and his body sweating profusely from the exertion. From afar he heard the sounds of an artillery barrage, but around him were only the cries of the soldiers and the moans of the dead and dying. He hated it—he hated the blood and the slaughter and the waste of human life—but it was today, he knew, that it all might be over.

Then suddenly, in the midst of yet another fight with an enemy soldier, everything fell quiet. The hordes of enemy soldiers seemed to fade away. He saw the standard of Chousu being raised over the battlefield, and a cry went up that the bakufu had been defeated. It was done—their need for him to kill was over! He was free! He dropped his katana and wakazashi and started to walk away, but his swords would not leave him. He threw them down once again, but like magic, they flew right back into his hands. Now he saw in horror that the dead on the battlefield were surrounding him, pointing their fingers at him accusingly. He tried a third time to throw away his killing swords and walk away, but the swords refused to be discarded. ‘Killer, killer!’ he heard the dead hiss. He started running, but they continued to follow, pointing their fingers in accusation. His swords now stuck to his hands, and as he looked at them, he saw blood dripping from them in a never-ending stream. ‘Leave me alone!’ he cried out at his swords. ‘Leave me alone!’

"Leave me alone!"

He shot up, wild-eyed, to find someone trying to hold him back. It was Baiko.

"Take it easy! Take it easy!" Baiko was saying. "You’re having a bad dream!"

Behind Baiko, Kenshin could see Ikuko, a worried look on her face and a feeling almost of fear coming from her ki. He stopped struggling, and Baiko let up a bit on his hold. Now Baiko leaned down to Kenshin’s ear and said, so only he could hear, "You’d better plaster a smile on that face of yours, Himura, ‘cause you’ve scared Ikuko-san shitless with that nightmare of yours."

"What…?" Kenshin started to say, but Baiko roughly cut him off.

"Don’t ask, just do it!" he ordered urgently. "Now!"

Kenshin was taken aback by Baiko’s harshness, but he quickly followed his command and put a small, if somewhat vacant, smile on his face. He felt Ikuko’s fear and tenseness start to dissipate. He was surprised at how quickly such a fake smile could disarm a person’s worry.

"Sessha is fine, now—really," Kenshin said to her through the smile. "The nightmare—it was just an after-effect of the poison." It was a lie, but better than telling her the truth, he figured.

Baiko made a show of feeling Kenshin’s forehead for fever, then turned to Ikuko and said, "I think he’ll be fine now, but why don’t you leave the two of us alone for a moment so I can check him over." He started undoing the bandage on Kenshin’s shoulder to show what he meant.

"Yes, that’s probably for the best.," Ikuko said in a worried voice. "I was so concerned about you, Himura-san…."

Kenshin turned on an even bigger smile now. "Please forgive this one for worrying you," he said as sincerely as he could.

Ikuko smiled back, then left the wagon,. As she did, Kenshin’s smile disappeared. He turned to Baiko and said, "What the hell was that all about?"

"Listen, Himura, I know you couldn’t help it—hell, you saved our asses back there—but now everyone is wondering about you, not just Old Sourpuss. We’ve been parked in this town over an hour now, and the whole time Orinosuke-san’s been saying, ‘See, I’m right—he is dangerous.’ Everyone heard it—she heard it. You needed to reassure her right away that you’re what she thought you were."

"And what’s that?" Kenshin asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Why, harmless, of course!"

Kenshin laughed grimly. "Baiko, it’s no use trying to pretend any longer. They’ve seen what I am…."

"Yeah, well, you’ve certainly got them confused—Ennosuke in particular," Baiko said. "Seems you told him you were a nobody who protected people with his sword but didn’t kill? The way you fought, it was pretty clear you’re not just some nobody. He’s having a real tough time right now figuring that out. And what’s with this sakabatou thing, anyway?"

Kenshin gave him a cold look. That was information he would share with no one.

"Okay, okay, I have no right to ask, and you don’t have to tell me," Baiko said quickly, "but you could’ve at least warned me! You know, you shaved a few years off my life a couple of times when Orinosuke-san tried to beat up on you—I was sure he was a goner!"

"You see what this one means?" Kenshin said bitterly. "You knew who this one was, and that’s all you expected from me. If sessha couldn’t convince you that this one isn’t like that anymore, what hope does this one have of convincing anyone else—of living any kind of normal life? You know, Ikuko-san all but offered me a job with them in Kagoshima. Do you know how much this one wants to say yes? But it can’t be."

He stopped then, for he now he noticed he was wearing an unfamiliar yukata. "Say, where are my clothes?!"

Baiko looked around and found the two gi folded neatly on top of one of the trunks. "Looks like Ikuko-san’s fixed those rips for you," he said as he handed them to Kenshin. "Listen, Orinosuke-san came this close to telling his father who he thinks you are, but his father cut him off before he could finish. As far as most of them are concerned, you’re a hero, you saved their lives, and that’s that. Ryosuke-san’s convinced you’re a master swordsman and can’t figure out why you’d hide that from them, Daisuke-san thinks you have some deep, dark secret that has to do with some tragedy during the Bakumatsu, and the women—well, they’re just freaked out by the broken bodies they saw and can’t figure out how a nice guy like you managed to do that to them. You understand now why you need to plaster that smile on your face?"

Kenshin sighed. "Baiko, we haven’t known each other very long, but you’ve been a good friend. Aa, sessha will do as you say."

He finished tying his gi and tucked them into his hakama, then followed Baiko from the wagon. Immediately, he knew that something was different, for as soon as he emerged, everyone stopped talking and looked at him. He stopped, not knowing what to do, until he felt Baiko’s elbow in his ribs.

"Smile," Baiko hissed through clenched teeth.

Kenshin hid his eyes beneath his bangs and smiled the vacant smile he had used on Ikuko just a few minutes earlier. Then he followed Baiko to wherever he was going. He had no idea where that was, but he decided that wherever it was, it would be better than standing at the wagon with everyone’s eyes glued to him. He hadn’t gotten far before Mayako came up, bearing a tray with bowls of cold rice, tofu, and apples. She gave a formal, deep bow and said, "Your lunch, Himura-san."

Kenshin stared at her in surprise, then returned the bow, making sure to bow lower. Mayako now bowed even lower, almost dropping the tray in the process.

"Himura-san," she said stiffly as she held the tray out to him, "please allow me this courtesy—it is we who should be bowing to you."

Kenshin felt Baiko’s elbow in his ribs again. He turned on the smile, then managed a weak, "Arigatou, Mayako-dono." She bowed low a third time, then backed away.

"Really, Himura-san, you shouldn’t be ashamed of what you did back there," Ikuko now said as she came up with a cup of hot tea for him. They were waiting on him, he realized, and it made him feel uncomfortable. "The gods have given you a mighty gift, and you used it honorably, to protect us. Allow us to at least show our appreciation!" Then she, too, bowed low.

"Ikuko-dono, please," Kenshin said uncertainly, "sessha does not deserve your praise…."

Once again he felt the elbow in his ribs. "Shut up and say thanks," Baiko whispered.

Kenshin’s lunch tray nearly tumbled out of his hands, but he caught it in time, then added, "…but this one appreciates the thought."

"You know, you didn’t have to hide your talents from us," Ikuko continued as she bowed to take her leave. "This family does appreciate the sword arts, you know." Then she walked off to help wash up the lunch dishes.

"What the hell is going on?" Kenshin finally asked once he and Baiko were alone again. He had fully expected to be greeted by disgust, if not outright hostility, at what he had done. Instead, he was being treated like some kind of royalty. It just didn’t make sense!

"It’s like I said—they don’t know what to think of you anymore," Baiko said. He stood now as he saw Orinosuke wave him over. "If you want to keep them from asking too many questions, you’d better reassure them pretty quick that you’re just a run-of-the-mill former soldier who’s taken to wandering the countryside. I gotta go—time to hitch up the horse. You up to walking now?"

Kenshin still had a somewhat dazed look on his face, but he said, "Aa, sessha can walk…."

"Good." Then Baiko left him to finish his lunch.

Kenshin hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took that first bite of apple, but now he tucked into his food with gusto. Between the exertion from the fight and the shock to his body from the poison, he had worked up quite an appetite, and so he did not notice until the last second that someone was running towards him with the speed that only a three-year-old can muster. Barely in the nick of time, he managed to put his tray to the side before all thirty pounds of Nomi pushed him back with a huge hug. It sent a small shot of pain through his shoulder as he fell back on his elbows.

"Kenshin-san!" she called out. "You’re all better!"

Kenshin slowly sat up laughing and said, "Aa, Nomi-dono, all better, de gozaru yo!"

Now Noriko ran up, bowing and apologizing profusely as she pulled Nomi off him.

"Oh, Himura-sama, please forgive Nomi-chan! Nomi, you mustn’t do that to Himura-sama—you’ve hurt his shoulder again!"

Himura-sama?

"No, no, Noriko-dono, not ‘-sama’—sessha is just a rurouni!" Kenshin said quickly.

"But we had no idea you were a master swordsman…," she started to say.

Kenshin cut her off. "And sessha is not a master swordsman!" He made sure he had a smile on his face when he said it, for Noriko was looking totally bewildered.

"Himura-sama—I mean, Himura-san," she said when she had collected her wits again, "if I could ask…." She stopped, not sure if she should continue. "If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition…."

"Is there something this one can do for you, Noriko-dono?" Kenshin cut in. Why, all of the sudden, was Noriko—the first person to befriend him in this family—now so afraid to talk to him, he wondered?

Noriko finally collected herself and said in a rush, "Himura-sama, I think Husband’s wound has reopened. He didn’t want me to bother you about it, but I’m worried…."

Kenshin stood and said, "Of course, Noriko-dono, sessha will take a look at it. And really…"—here he gave as genuine a smile as he could—"sessha is just a rurouni, nothing more!"

He bent to pick up his tray, but Noriko took it for him, a "Sorry" on her lips and a look of relief on her face. Then, with one hand holding Nomi and the other holding the tray, she led him to a stand of trees on the other side of the wagon, where Ennosuke was sitting with his father and brothers. The men were obviously having a rather serious conversation, but when they saw Noriko and Kenshin walk up, they stopped. Kenshin had the feeling they had been discussing him.

"Husband," Noriko said tentatively as she looked around the group of men, "I know you didn’t want me to, but I asked Himura-sama to look at your leg…."

"You shouldn’t have bothered him…," Ennosuke started to say, but Kenshin stopped him. On Ennosuke’s hakama, he could see a patch of blood.

"May this one?" Kenshin asked deferentially as he went to touch it.

Ennosuke nodded, then pulled his hakama up to reveal the bandage. Sure enough, the bandage was bloodied and slightly moist.

"I know Satoshi-sensei told me not to exert myself," Ennosuke said apologetically, "but I had a bit of trouble holding back the horse when those three bandits started attacking. They were right in front of the horse, and he got pretty skittish."

Kenshin carefully undid the bandage and looked at the wound. None of them had seen it since it had been stitched and cleaned up; it looked raw and ugly. Noriko blanched and stepped back unsteadily at the sight; Ryosuke turned green. Kenshin said, "Don’t worry, it’s only the cut in the skin that’s opened, not the artery. Ennosuke-san’s in no danger. Sessha will just go get the bag…."

Daisuke, however, stopped him and said, "Noriko-chan, why don’t you ask Baiko-san to bring the medical supplies. Himura-san, you stay here and rest, why don’t you."

Kenshin watched with a sinking feeling as Noriko walked off. He was already on edge from all the bowing and scraping everyone seemed to be doing to him, and now he got the distinct impression that Daisuke was going to try to pump him for information about himself. He turned on the vacant smile.

"The authorities are sending a doctor and a wagon to pick up those bandits we left behind," Daisuke told him. "Then they’re sending a runner to the army barracks at Miyazaki to take charge of them. They seemed surprised that a bunch of actors could take on a whole gang of criminals. I told them it was really thanks to our two security guards."

"We couldn’t have done it without your help," Kenshin said sincerely. Turning to Orinosuke, he added, "Your sons were a great help as well."

Orinosuke snorted contemptuously, then looked off in another direction, refusing to meet Kenshin’s gaze.

"Well, I got the impression that you, at least, probably didn’t need our help at all," Daisuke said enthusiastically. "I only saw the tail end of your fight, but that was pretty impressive work you did back there—a perfect marriage of acrobatics and kenjutsu, if you ask me. We were just saying, before you joined us just now, that it would be interesting to add some of your technique to our own kata—it would make for a great show-stopper, don’t you think? May I ask the name of your style?"

Kenshin tensed imperceptibly. "My style?" he repeated with as innocent a look as he could muster. Already, he knew, there were some people who knew exactly what the name was of the style that had been used by the Hitokiri Battousai. How much could he tell now without giving himself away? "It’s an ancient style that no one’s ever really heard of—from Sengoku times."

"Sengoku, eh?" Daisuke fingered his chin. "That could be a good selling point…."

"Swordsmen stopped using Sengoku styles over two hundred years ago," Orinosuke remarked pointedly, "so stop lying to us, and just tell us the truth."

Kenshin could feel Orinosuke’s eyes boring into his. There was no way to avoid it; he could only hope that the name would mean nothing to them.

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu," Kenshin finally answered.

It was Ennosuke, not Orinosuke, whose eyes widened at the name. "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu?" he said. "I think I’ve heard that name before." He turned to Ryosuke and said, "Isn’t that the name Hasuike-san mentioned as being the style of one of the great patriots? But I can’t remember who he said it was—just that without him, the Meiji era never would have come."

"Aa, I think you’re right," Ryosuke replied. "And didn’t he said Okubo-sama was trying to find this man? Can’t remember why…." He turned to Kenshin and said, "Maybe it was someone from your dojo. Was your dojo prominent during the Bakumatsu?"

Kenshin was really on edge now—Okubo Toshimichi was looking for him? Why? He had heard rumors that the government was tracking down and killing people who knew too much about how it came to power, but Katsura had assured him before he left…. Years of practice had made it easy for him to keep his emotions from showing on his face, and so not even Orinosuke, whose eyes had never left him, could tell that a panic was beginning to rise in Kenshin’s gut. All anyone saw was the vacant smile on his face as he said, "Oro?"

Ryosuke did a double-take, then laughed. "Your dojo, man—your dojo! You were only a kid then, so maybe you don’t know, but were any of your master’s students famous during the Bakumatsu?"

Orinosuke’s ki was reaching a dangerous level. He clearly did not buy Kenshin’s act.

"There wasn’t actually a dojo where sessha lived—he must have been from somewhere else," Kenshin finally answered lamely.

Orinosuke’s eyes flashed fire, and he looked about to say something, but Noriko returned with Baiko before he could. Much to Kenshin’s relief, that ended the conversation. He quickly took the bag of medical supplies from Baiko, then proceeded to clean Ennosuke’s wound and replace the bandage. Ryosuke quickly got up before he could turn green again. "Isn’t it time to get moving?" he said as he back away.

"Pathetic," Orinosuke muttered, this time directing his comment towards his brother, not Kenshin. Then he, too, left to finish preparing the wagon for travel. Ennosuke and Daisuke followed as soon as Kenshin tied off the new bandage. Kenshin’s vacant smile disappeared as soon as they left, and his mouth took on a grim set as he, too, walked back to the wagon.

"What’s the matter?" Baiko asked quietly as he headed towards his usual post at the rear of the wagon. "It looks to me like they’re buying your act."

"Sessha must leave after tomorrow’s performance," Kenshin answered.

"Not that again," Baiko started to say with a laugh, but the look in Kenshin’s eye cut him off.

"It’s not a joking matter," Kenshin said. "Sessha had to tell them the name of my sword style; Ennosuke-san and Ryosuke-san recognized the name, though they can’t remember why."

"But the old man’s told Orinosuke he can break away from the family and leave for Kyoto. Doesn’t that take the heat off of you?"

Kenshin shook his head. "It’s no good, Baiko. He won’t give up, and the others now are getting too close to the truth." He sighed. "The funny thing is, this one actually sort of enjoyed performing yesterday. It was sort of nice to hear people laugh for once, you know?"

He stowed his bag, then took up his former post at the right side of the wagon. Noriko and Nomi joined him, just as they had that first day he traveled with them, and soon they were on the road again. Everything was the same, yet everything was different. That hard-won feeling of easy familiarity was gone, replaced with an almost imperceptible new layer of formality. He smiled, he joked with little Nomi, but Noriko was no longer her previously easy-going self. She seemed uncertain now how to relate to him, whether to treat him as a friend or as a superior.

Then Bunjiro came to join him. This was a surprise, for Orinosuke had forbidden his children from having any contact with Kenshin. It was only due to Mayako’s intervention that Kenshin had even spoken to them earlier in the day. So, as the boy reached his side, Kenshin asked, "Does your father know you’re walking with me?"

"Grandfather told me I could come back here," Bunjiro said.

Even Bunjiro, Kenshin noted sadly, was different now. Just that morning, he had been a gung-ho thirteen-year-old. Now he was quiet and almost withdrawn.

"Something is troubling you," Kenshin said gently.

Bunjiro looked at him in surprise. "You can tell?"

Kenshin smiled. "It’s a skill sessha learned long ago."

Bunjiro sighed. "It’s what happened back there," he said. "What you did."

"Oh," Kenshin replied, his heart sinking. Yet more fallout from the morning’s fight.

"I saw what they looked like, those men you fought," he said. "It was pretty horrible, wasn’t it."

"Aa," Kenshin said, "that it was."

"They aren’t going to die, are they?"

"Sessha hopes not—no."

Bunjiro was quiet again. Then he said, "What I saw back there—that’s why you told me not to become a soldier, isn’t it."

"Aa."

Bunjiro sighed, then said, "Thanks, Kenshin-san," and he slowly walked back to rejoin his family.