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In Search of Family: Chapter 9 - Epilogue

by Conspirator & Co-Conspirator

Six years had passed since that awful day in 1878—six years since Yukishiro Enishi had ‘killed’ Kaoru and Kenshin had lost his will to live. Little could Enishi have known the unintended consequences of his ‘earthly justice,’ for when Kenshin emerged from his own private hell, he realized just how much he needed Kaoru at his side. Within months of Enishi’s defeat, the two were married, and in less than two years, they became the proud parents of a red-haired baby boy. Yahiko had moved into Sano’s old room at the boarding house, but the now strapping 16-year-old continued to mooch off Kenshin and Kaoru (maybe it was the influence of being in Sano’s old room!) and to train with Kaoru; he was now an assistant master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu himself. Life, Kenshin decided, had turned out pretty well after all.

On this particular day, life actually was rather hectic. Kenshin was trying to finish the laundry, but a certain three-year-old imp named Kenji was determined to help. It hadn’t been so long ago that Kenji had been in the throes of the ‘terrible twos’ and refused to have anything to do with his father. Now that he was the ripe old age of 3, Kenji had switched course and decided instead to have nothing to do with his mother. Water-play has attracted children from time immemorial, and water-play was exactly what Kenji thought doing the laundry was all about.

"Look, a tsunami!" Kenji cried out with glee as he splashed his father with soapy water. Kenshin responded by whipping out a wet yukata from the bottom of the bucket and flinging his own wall of water at Kenji. Kenji was so surprised by the soaking that he fell in a heap on top of his father. As Kaoru and Yahiko wandered out of the dojo to see what all the noise was about, they found the two redheads hugging and laughing and totally wet from head to toe.

"Men!" Kaoru muttered to herself with a smile. "They’re all alike—they’re all children."

"What was that?" asked Yahiko. He was not about to take that kind of insult from anyone, especially not from Kaoru! "We’re all children, did you say?" And with that, he whipped out his bokken and tried to get in one good whack. He would have succeeded, too, except that Kenji chose that very moment to run over to his mother and got in the way.

Kaoru took one look at her muddy son and yelled over to her husband, "Oi! Kenshin! Better get cleaned up. Our guests will be arriving in less than an hour!"

‘Kuso!’ Kenshin thought. ‘I forgot all about that!’ Sano and Megumi were due to arrive today from Aizu. Sano had come back from his world travels just a year ago and had settled again in Tokyo, but he kept taking long trips to Aizu to visit his ‘fox,’ as Sano liked to call Megumi. Kenshin had been overjoyed at Sano’s return. He had missed having a friend like Sano around, a friend he could hang out and drink with, a friend he could trust with his life. As for Megumi, she was still the best doctor he had ever met and a good friend as well. He knew that Kaoru felt the same, and that she secretly harbored the wish that Sano and Megumi would just admit their feelings and get married. Kenshin quickly finished rinsing and hanging the laundry, then scooped up his muddy son and trotted off to the bath to clean him up. Before the hour was out, the two of them were freshly washed, dressed, and ready for company.

Their guests arrived by mid-morning, but it turned out to be more than just Sano and Megumi.

"Oi! Jou-chan! Kenshin! Look who we found!" Sano sang out as he opened the gate.

There, standing with Sano and Megumi, was Makimachi Misao, all smiles and jumping up and down with excitement.

"Surprise! Surprise!" she yelled as she rushed forward to hug Kaoru. "I ran into these guys at the train station, so we shared a carriage to town, and here I am!"

It was hugs and kisses all around, with little Kenji tugging at everyone’s clothes for a little attention. Kaoru scooped him up so he could get in on the fun, then said, "What brings you to Tokyo, Misao? We’re so thrilled to see you!"

"Well," Misao replied, "actually I guess I could’ve sent this, but I decided it was a good excuse for a trip, so I brought it myself!" She held out a parcel and handed it to Kenshin. "It’s for you, Himura. There was a monk in Kyoto named Toshiro who was a friend of yours, right? Well, seems he died a few weeks ago, and he left this to you in his will. They remembered me from when I went to get Tomoe’s diary six years ago, so they asked me to deliver it to you."

"Toshiro?" Kenshin said softly. "He died?"

"Wasn’t that the nice old monk you introduced me to when we visited Tomoe’s grave that first time?" Kaoru asked.

Kenshin nodded. Then, shaking himself from his thoughts, he said, "Come on, let’s go inside and have some tea. We’ve all got some catching up to do!"

As they walked inside, he started opening the parcel. In it was a thin book wrapped with a letter written in Toshiro’s careful hand.

"My dear Himura-kun," the letter read. "This book has special meaning for me, and it will for you, too. When I die, I wish it to be yours. When you see it, you may be tempted to throw it away even before you open its covers. I beg you, please read this book from cover to cover, and leave nothing out. May the gods grant you peace and happiness—Your friend, Toshiro."

As Kenshin removed the letter surrounding the book, the title came into view: Legends of the Hitokiri Battousai. The author was a man named Oibore. Kenshin froze when he saw the title; all warmth and joy drained from his face.

"Hey, Kenshin, what’s the matter?" Yahiko asked as saw Kenshin’s expression suddenly change. "Here, let me see it!" He grabbed eagerly for the book, but Kenshin held it back.

"No." Kenshin clutched the book tightly.

"Come on, let’s see it," Sano said as he came up behind Kenshin. Sano took the letter, which had fallen to the floor, and read it. Then he bent over sideways to read the title of the book, which was still clenched tightly in Kenshin’s hand.

"Kenshin," he said, "this is the monk who helped you before you started wandering, isn’t it—the one you told me was like a father to you? He wouldn’t have written this letter if there wasn’t a good reason."

Yahiko managed to pry the book out of Kenshin’s hand and went to sit in the corner. He opened the book and started reading out loud.

"’Tales of the Hitokiri Battousai, by Oibore’," he read. "’Published in Kyoto, in Meiji 2, 1869.’ Hey, you know anyone named Oibore?"

Kenshin stood frozen to the spot, but he answered slowly, "I don’t know. There’s something about the name, but I can’t place it."

"Oibore?" repeated Megumi. "I remember an Oibore. I wonder if it’s the same man. Kaoru, do you remember my telling you that an old man came to Tokyo looking for you while you were in Kyoto during the Shishio affair? He called himself Oibore. He came back, too, right around when we all thought you had been killed by Enishi. He’s the one who made that lovely scroll that hangs by my desk. I had no idea he wrote something about dear Ken-san…."

Dear Ken-san looked sick.

Yahiko continued to read as everyone settled down to listen and sip their tea.

Introduction

"’During the Bakumatsu,’" he read, "’there was one name above all others that struck fear into the hearts of those living in Kyoto-Hitokiri Battousai. He has been called a god or a demon not of this world, who had eyes that burned with the fires of hell and could bring lightening down from the sky with a stroke of his katana.’"

Kenshin spit out his tea at those words.

"’Others claim he was a real human possessed of superhuman abilities, who could unsheath his sword quicker than the eye could see and could disappear from sight just as quickly.’"

Sano thumped Kenshin on the back at that.

"’He has been called a bloodthirsty killer who enjoyed the sounds and smell of death. Others claim he was a reluctant assassin, only meting out death to those the Ishin Shishi deemed to deserve "heaven’s justice." Here are six tales of the Hitokiri Battousai. They are all based on stories from people who saw him or knew him. Read them and decide for yourselves, dear readers, what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai really was.’"

"Please, Yahiko, stop," Kenshin said in a cold voice. Why, now that he had truly found happiness for the first time in his life, did this book have to show up? And why would Toshiro-such a kind, gentle man—want to put him through this kind of anguish?

Kaoru took his hand. She had been bouncing Kenji on her knee, but Kenji leaned over until he had successfully transferred to Kenshin’s lap and wrapped his arms around him. Wet kisses started covering Kenshin’s stony face.

"Anata," Kaoru said gently, "Toshiro would never harm you. His letter says it’s important for you to read this, so it must be important. What better time and place, anyway, than with our closest and dearest friends."

"Yeah," said Yahiko eagerly, "and anyway, I want to read what people who saw you way back then really had to say!"

‘Way back then?’ Kenshin muttered to himself. ‘What am I, some kind of relic?’ Then he sighed, and in a resigned voice he said aloud, "Read, if you must."

Yahiko picked up the book once again and started reading.

Origins of the Hitokiri Battousai

"’In the spring of 1863, as soon as the snow had melted from the passes, a small, red-haired boy descended from the mountains outside of Kyoto. He was wearing the clothes of no known clan, and at his side he carried a full-sized katana. To those who knew no better, it looked more like the katana carried the boy rather than the other way around, so when he found his way to the camp of Takasugi Shinsaku and announced that he wanted to join his private army, the Kiheitai, the men laughed. "Boy," one of them said, "if you can even pull that sword from its saya, we’ll be amazed!" The boy’s eyes glinted with fire, and before the man could even take a breath, the boy had not only pulled out his sword, but had it against the man’s throat. "I want to join the Kiheitai," the boy repeated. "Do you believe me now?" That they did, so they took him to Takasugi.’"

Kaoru glanced over to see how Kenshin was taking this and saw the faintest hint of a smile hovering on his lips. Yahiko continued.

"’When Takasugi saw him, he asked, "Just how old are you, boy?" The boy answered, "Thirteen, sir." Takasugi couldn’t believe this because the boy looked like he was no more than 10 or 11.’"

"Gosh, Kenshin, you must’ve been a real runt if you looked that young!" Yahiko snickered. Kenshin glared at him. Yahiko went on reading.

"The boy then said, "I am 13, and I am a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. I wish to wield my sword to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed. I wish to join your Kiheitai." Takasugi was astonished at such words coming from so small a boy, but he decided to treat the request with as much respect as if it had come from a grown man. He took aside his best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui, and said, "What do you know of this school of swordsmanship? I’ve never heard of it." The swordsman answered, "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was supposedly invented nearly 300 years ago and was said to be the most feared style of swordsmanship, but that’s just legend. I didn’t know it really existed. Let the boy and me have a fight, and we’ll see what he’s made of." So Takasugi turned back to the boy and said, "Boy, you will fight my best swordsman, Kagemiru Shinzui. If you can fight him to a draw or beat him, then you may join the Kiheitai. But this battle will not be to the death—I can’t afford to lose even one swordsman!"

"’So the boy and Kagemiru faced off. Kagemiru was a master of the Jigen style, so he decided to spar with the boy the way he would spar with any talented, 13-year-old Jigen student. So he unsheathed his sword and ran towards the boy, intending to swing upward and out to knock the sword from the boy’s hand. As he swung his sword, however, his target disappeared in a blur, only to reappear behind him. Kagemiru pivoted around, this time deciding not to hold back and intending to land a blow with the flat of his sword against the boy’s chest. But as he neared the boy, the boy disappeared once again. Kagemiru stopped dead in his tracks, looking all around to find him. Suddenly, a mighty yell came from above his head. As he looked up, he saw the boy descend from the heavens, blade flashing. Before he had time to counter the attack or even to blink his eyes, the boy had the blade against his neck. Kagemiru knew that if this had been a real fight, his head and his body would no longer be enjoying their intimate connection. "This fight," the boy said cooly, "is over."

"’Not long after this, Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu Ishin Shishi, came to visit Takasugi. As he and his aides watched the men of the Kiheitai practice, he noticed the boy among the others. The practice involved attacking a target, a wooden post wrapped with rope. One of Katsura’s aides called down to the boy, "Hey, little dumpling, I’ll give you a ryo if you can cut that in half," thinking that this would be a very funny joke. Instead, the boy cut the target in half in one stroke, then smashed the other half to pieces with his saya. Then the boy walked up to the aide and held out his hand, saying, "One ryo, please." Katsura turned to Takasugi and said, "I must bring this boy with me to Kyoto. He will be the salvation of the Ishin Shishi." And that is how the boy became the shadow assassin known as the Hitokiri Battousai. This tale was told to me by Kagemiru Shinzui himself.’"

"Wow!" said Yahiko. "I’ve heard of this guy Kagemiru. You really beat him when you were only 13?" Kenshin nodded his head ever so slightly, his eyes hidden by his bangs.

"Yeah, wow!" chimed in Misao. "That story is so cool, Himura! And I’ll bet you were sooooo cute when you were little, too!" Much feminine giggling followed that remark.

Kenshin glowered.

Kenji had sat quietly throughout the whole long story, and that was too much for him. He squirmed out of Kenshin’s lap and ran around the room before heading over to Yahiko, where he took up residence on the teenager’s lap. He took hold of the book and gave it a good look. "No pictures?" He pouted for a minute, then said, "Oh, well, that’s okay. Tell me more story, Yako-nii!"

As Kenji was working off his energy, Kaoru took the opportunity to bring in some rice cakes. Sano used the break to glance over to Kenshin, who just looked stoic.

"Hey, Kenshin, don’t look so glum!" Sano laughed. "This is interesting!" Megumi elbowed him in the ribs. "Hey, ow!" he cried. "What’d ‘ya do that for?"

Finally, everyone settled down again, and Yahiko continued to read.

The Hitokiri Battousai Strikes

"’The Hitokiri Battousai did not choose whom to strike—those names were given to him secretly, in a black envelope. On this particular night, the name was that of one of the most powerful daimyo in all Japan, a man who was considered to be one of the top military strategists of the Shogunate. It was a bitterly cold winter night. The daimyo and his bodyguard of 10 men had just left an important meeting with the Shogun himself when a voice, cold as ice, was heard, saying, "It is time for you to pay for your crimes." There was no one to be seen, so the men started looking all around.

"’Suddenly, one of them pointed up at the rooftops. In the dark, all that could be seen were two eyes glowing with the fires of hell. Then, vengeance streaked down from the sky as the Hitokiri Battousai flew into the midst of his enemies. His flaming sword seemed to be everywhere at once, striking dead first the two men in front of him with one mighty swing, then the man behind him as he brought his sword back behind him. Then he ran towards the three men guarding the daimyo, who stood shivering with fright. As the bodyguards started their attack in an attempt to save their lord, the Hitokiri Battousai suddenly seemed to disappear from sight, only to reappear behind the daimyo. Before the daimyo even had time to realize what had happened, the Hitokiri’s sword had split him in two. Seconds later, the three surprised bodyguards were dead as well, killed by a circular slash of the Hitokiri’s blade. Then he whirled around to face the four bodyguards to the rear. Raising his sword high over his head, he shouted and then brought the sword swinging to the ground, causing the earth itself to open up and swallow the men. Before he disappeared from sight, the Hitokiri Battousai pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and left it at the bloody scene. "Heaven’s justice," the note read. Then he was gone. All this took less than five minutes. This tale was told to me by the one man who escaped, who wishes to remain anonymous.’"

As Yahiko stopped reading, all eyes turned to Kenshin, who, sometime during the tale, had turned his back to the group and had his head in his hands.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru said softly. There was no response. "Kenshin?" she said again. Still no response. She reached over, gently took his hand, and squeezed it. A weak squeeze was the reply. Then she leaned over to look at his face; there were tears running down his cheeks.

"Does the end justify the means?" he asked softly, so that only Kaoru could hear. "I killed so many…."

Suddenly, Kenji jumped up and ran over to Kenshin. "Oto-san! Oto-san!" he called out. "You’re too big to cry! Kenji will make it all better!" and he proceeded to take his sleeve to try to dry Kenshin’s eyes. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite tall enough and in the process of trying to reach Kenshin’s eyes, he managed merely to push Kenshin over, with Kenji falling on top of him. Kenshin sat up, a smile slowly appearing on his face. "Thank you, Kenji," he whispered. "You’re a big help to Oto-san."

"Can I go on?" an annoyed Yahiko asked as the commotion died down. "I’ll stop if you want, but these stories are really interesting!"

Kenshin knew it was useless to protest. "Just keep reading," he said quietly.

The Two Hitokiri

"’One rainy spring evening, a young red-haired samurai helped a tavern owner by throwing out some ruffians who were bothering one of the customers. The tavern-owner’s wife watched as he left walking down the street, when suddenly she saw a huge man with two swords on chains stand in his way. In a deep voice the man called out, "Hitokiri Battousai, I have been waiting for you. I’ll have your life." The woman thought the fight would be over quickly because the red-haired man was not even half as tall as the attacker.

Quicker than the eye could see, the attacker’s two swords went flying out at the Battousai, who immediately whipped out his katana, sending the swords flying back towards their owner. A fierce battle ensued, with swords flashing and clashing, but no blood spilled. Then, without warning, the huge man jumped to the roof and sent down one of his swords so that the chain wrapped completely around his young opponent. The Battousai’s eyes glowed with fire as he was totally trapped by the chain, but with superhuman strength he pulled on the chain, thus bringing down the attacker’s other sword. As the attacker leaped down to confront him, the Battousai cleaved the attacker in half with that second sword. Blood fell in the alley as thick as the rain. It was learned later that the man who attacked the Battousai that night was the Shogunate’s most feared assassin, Murakami Rensato.

"’As the Battousai knelt after the battle to catch his breath, he suddenly heard the voice of a young woman who had come upon the scene. As he turned and walked toward her, she fainted. A rule of the hitokiri is never to leave a witness, but he broke the rule. Instead of killing her, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the inn where he lived. The innkeeper was annoyed, saying, "What’s with you men? You kill all day, then expect to have pleasure at night?" But the Battousai said, "No, no, she fainted in the street, and I couldn’t just leave her there! Please take care of her." Then he left. This tale was told to me by Kazuko, the tavern-owners’ wife, and Okami, the innkeeper.’"

"That’s how I met Tomoe," Kenshin said softly, breaking the silence that followed the reading.

"Yeah, we know," Yahiko said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Misao shouted. "You read that diary when we had it at your house, didn’t you!" In a flash, she jumped up and placed herself in front of Yahiko, kunai glinting in her hands. "You creep, that’s private stuff!"

"Hey!" Yahiko shouted back, holding up his hands to prevent an attack. "He told us all about her, and anyway, I stopped reading when I got to the mushy stuff!" Kenshin started turning pink.

"Mushy stuff?" Kaoru asked, glancing over at her husband.

"There was no mushy stuff in that diary," muttered an embarrassed Kenshin, who was now turning bright red.

"Ohoho," laughed Megumi as fox ears started sprouting from her head. "This sounds like something I would have liked to read!" This time it was Sano who sent an elbow flying into Megumi’s ribs.

Kenji thought this was just too much. He started running around to jab his elbows into everyone, too, until his mother caught hold of him. What she whispered in his ear must have been the voice of doom, for the three-year-old suddenly sat down very quietly, his tiny hands folded angelically in his lap.

"You may continue reading, Yahiko," Kaoru ordered in her most dangerous-sounding voice.

Yahiko’s eyes went wide as he scanned the next page. "Hey," he said, "the man we love to hate shows up in this next chapter-it’s about the Shinsengumi!"

"Not that maniac cop Saitou!" Sano said, curling his lip. "That bastard, I still haven’t forgiven him for disappearing on me after we fought Shishio. We never did finish that fight!"

"Oh, just shut up and listen!" Yahiko said. He continued to read.

The Hitokiri Battles the Shinsengumi

"’In the summer of 1864, the Chousu, including the Hitokiri Battousai, were forced to flee Kyoto after the Ikedaya affair and the ill-fated attacks of the summer. Now the most feared in the city were the Shinsengumi and the Mimawarigumi, who hunted and killed the Ishin Shishi without mercy. By the following spring, the Chousu realized that if something wasn’t done soon, their cause would be lost. It was during this turbulent time that the Hitokiri Battousai returned to Kyoto, but no longer was he a shadow assassin. Now his job was to protect the patriots in Kyoto by attacking these, their most dangerous enemies, at every opportunity. And now, for the first time, his opponents found out what the Hitokiri Battousai really looked like. They quickly learned that if they met a swordsman with a scar like an X on the cheek and hair the color of flames, then the span of their lives was about to come to an end.

"’During this particular evening, the Battousai and a group of fighters had just completed a mission when suddenly, from around the corner, a cry went up: "It’s the rebels! Over there!" It was a squad of Shinsengumi who had heard the noise of the fight. Quickly, several of the Shinsengumi peeled off from the main group and headed for the Ishin Shishi fighters. As the rest of the squad was about to leave, a lone figure stood at the head of the street, blocking their way. He had red hair and a scar like an X on his cheek. "It’s the assassin! Get him!" they yelled. The squad parted to reveal Okita Soushi, leader of Squad One and considered to be the most talented swordsman of the Shinsengumi. "So, we meet," Okita said calmly. Never before had there been so even a match in a fight, with both swordsmen being of similar height and strength, both swordsmen possessing equally deadly skills. In the blink of an eye, the two men ran towards each other, swords swinging, every movement so quick that it was a blur to the eye. No one could tell who did what until, after what seemed like mere seconds, the two men separated, panting. Okita, however, started coughing, blood appearing on his hands. The disease that was to claim his life was showing its deadly face.

"’Then, a deep voice sounded, saying "Stand back. You cannot defeat him in your current state." It was Saitou Hajime, leader of Squad Three and the most feared swordsman of the Shinsengumi. He was a tall man with the eyes of a hunter. "Prepare to meet your fate," he growled at the Battousai. He dropped into the stance for his deadly gatotsu, a sword technique no man had ever survived. Then the two men charged at each other, blades flying, but the Battousai emerged unharmed. The two men again charged at each other, this time engaging in blow after blow, but again both emerged unharmed. As they began to ready themselves for a third attempt, Okita suddenly shouted, "Saitou-san, stop! We’re ordered to move on!" Saitou was already preparing for another run towards his opponent and ignored the order. "Saitou-san! Now!" and Okita grabbed him before he could go any further. The fight was over. And that is how the two most feared swordsmen in all Japan both lived to fight another day. This story was told to me by one of the Ishin Shishi fighters, who calls himself Kenkiki.’"

"So that’s why Saitou hates you so much," Sano said slowly, "because he couldn’t finish you off and couldn’t finish the fight. Is that why he wanted to kill you that time in the dojo, when Governor Okubo showed up?"

"Yes." Kenshin clenched and unclenched his fists as he remembered that day. Saitou had tried to call up the Battousai within him and had almost succeeded. It was the day the Battousai almost conquered the rurouni, the day he almost broke his vow never to kill. If Governor Okubo hadn’t shown up…. He shook his head as if to erase the memory.

"You know," Kenshin said finally, "I did offer to finish that fight with him, after the capture of Enishi. He never came." He sat for a moment thinking about that, but then shook his head again and said, "What do you say we stop and have some lunch, maybe stretch our legs a bit."

"Yeah," Yahiko agreed eagerly, "I’m ready for food, but only if you promise to let us finish this book!"

It was agreed, and Kenshin went to the kitchen to prepare lunch, with the help of Megumi ("We’ll keep Kaoru out of the kitchen, shall we?" she murmured in his ear). When they had finished eating, Kaoru put a furiously protesting Kenji down for a nap. Then they settled in to finish the book. Yahiko once again started to read.

The Battousai Saves His Lord

"’Sometimes the tides of war shift as quickly as the grains of sand on a beach. In less than two years, the Chousu, who had so recently been banished from Kyoto, had returned and were reasserting their power. This was when the Hitokiri Battousai became the Chousu’s most valuable bodyguard. Not long after their return, he was working as part of a bodyguard for Katsura Kogoro, head of the Chousu clan. It was broad daylight, and the group of eight bodyguards was not expecting trouble when suddenly the group was surrounded by thirty Mimawarigumi. The outer bodyguards immediately tried to draw the attackers away, but more attackers poured in. The Battousai immediately threw himself into the fray. Within seconds he had killed three of the Mimawarigumi with one mighty sweep of his sword. As more attackers came forward, he jumped upward; then, with a mighty downward thrust, he cleaved an attacker in two. As quickly as his sword had finished its downward arc, he brought it up again laterally and instantly beheaded the next attacker.

"’Now he turned to see how Katsura, himself a swordsman of great renown, was faring, only to find an attacker like none of the others taking aim at his lord. It was a ninja, and eight kunai were already in flight aimed at Katsura’s chest. Quicker than the eye could see, the Battousai flew in front of Katsura, swirling his sword in his hands so that it was spinning like the blade of a windmill. As the kunai came close, the wind from the sword forced them to drop harmlessly to the ground. Sword still swinging, the Battousai flung himself at the ninja, beheading him as well. When the battle ended, Katsura turned to him and said, "Today, Battousai, you saved not only me, but Japan as well." This story was told to me by Takayama Miyara, one of the bodyguards.’"

"Takayama-san," Kenshin repeated, nodding his head. "He was a good man. I’m glad to know he survived the wars."

"You mean you didn’t know before this whether your friends survived the wars?" Sano asked incredulously.

"To be honest," Kenshin answered, "I really didn’t have any friends—no one wanted to be near someone like me…."

"And Sano, you know full well Ken-san spent 10 years wandering around so no one would find him," Megumi noted.

"Oh, people found me, all right," Kenshin said harshly. "Sometimes I felt like I had a huge sign on my back saying, ‘Get your revenge here.’"

"Yeah, but you lived to tell the tale," Sano chuckled. "Got to admit, you’re one lucky bastard!"

"You mean one exceptionally talented swordsman, don’t you?" Kaoru said, rather more pointedly than she intended. "I don’t think luck had anything to do with it!"

"Ok, ok," Misao cut in. "Geez, for a bunch of old folks, you guys sure know how to have kiddie spats!" A bokken suddenly went whirling in her direction.

"Knock it off, will ‘ya?" Yahiko said. "It looks like there’s just one more story left anyway."

‘That’s a relief,’ Kenshin thought to himself. "Go on, Yahiko," he said aloud. "Let’s get this over with."

The Hitokiri at the Battle of Toba Fushimi

"’It took two more years, but finally the era of the Tokugawa was coming to an end. The final blow came at two little towns outside of Kyoto, Toba and Fushimi. Arrayed against the forces of the Shogun were the even greater forces of the Satsuma, Tosa, and Chousu clans, and among the latter was the Hitokiri Battousai. He was put in charge of a squad of men whose job it was to advance to the very front lines and prevent the enemy from moving forward.

To prepare for battle, it is said that the Battousai would touch the X scar on his cheek and utter a special phrase that sounded like ‘Tomomomo.’ Some say this phrase was a powerful incantation linked to his superhuman speed, but others say it was a prayer to a lost love. On this day, he had just touched his cheek and was uttering his special phrase when, suddenly, his squad found itself surrounded by Bakufu forces. His men were all experts with a sword, but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers they faced. The Battousai, however, was a match, and using every technique of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, he managed to slay more than a dozen men in the first minutes of battle. Then, when he found himself without opponents, he rushed to the aid of his beleaguered men, slaying a dozen more of the enemy. Then he saw one of his men crumpling under the attack of three soldiers armed with pikes. He raced over, and with a mighty battle cry, he leaped up to the heavens and descended on them like a god of vengeance. With a mighty swing, he cleaved the first soldier in two, then swinging laterally he beheaded the second, and with a backward stroke he killed the third, thus saving his comrade from death. The squad had lost several men, but their mission had succeeded—the enemy did not advance.

"’At the end of the day, the forces of the Shogun had been defeated. It was the beginning of the restoration of the Emperor Meiji. The Ishin Shishi fighters, tired, hungry, and bedraggled, returned to their camp to celebrate their victory. One man, however, was missing—the Hitokiri Battousai. "Where could he be?" they all wondered. They knew he hadn’t been killed, for his men had seen him start walking back to camp. Still, he was nowhere to be found, and he has not been found even to this day. He has disappeared. This story was told to me by Ichiro, the soldier saved that day by the Hitokiri Battousai.

"’And now, dear readers, the legends are at an end. I leave it to you to decide just what kind of man the Hitokiri Battousai was. A bloodthirsty killer or a reluctant assassin? One thing we do know: He was a man who wanted to protect the weak and bring peace to the oppressed, no matter what methods he used. If you, my readers, also desire to protect the weak and do what it takes to preserve the peace of this new age, then you have nothing to fear from the Hitokiri Battousai. But if you don’t, then beware!’"

"Well, that’s it," said Yahiko, "that’s the end. So, Kenshin, you just walked off after the battle without telling a soul, huh?"

"Something like that," Kenshin said quietly. He started to get up, but Yahiko put out a hand to stop him.

"Wait a minute," Yahiko said slowly. "Someone’s written something on the inside of the back cover, and there’s a little packet stuck in the binding. Here, take a look." He handed him the book. Kenshin just stared at the inscription.

"Come on, Himura, read it to us already!" Misao said impatiently.

"It says, ‘My dear friend Toshiro, I dedicate this book to you, the keeper of the diary and the best friend a lonely father ever had. Without you I would not have made it through this first year in Kyoto. From your friend…. from your friend…." He couldn’t finish.

Misao grabbed the book out of his hand. "Hey, I don’t believe this! It says ‘From your friend Yukishiro Takuo, known as Oibore.’ Yukishiro’s Enishi’s name, isn’t it! What gives?"

"Yukishiro was Tomoe’s name as well," Kenshin said, looking faint. "Keeper of the diary…. A lonely father…. Tomoe’s father? But the name Oibore…. I know I’ve heard that name, I just can’t place it…."

"But that means that Oibore—that nice old man I met—was Tomoe’s father?" Megumi said in a strangled voice. "He never said…. and Enishi’s father, too. I don’t understand…."

Kaoru, meanwhile, was opening the packet tucked into the book’s binding. In it was a woman’s hairpin. Kenshin stared as she handed it to him.

"Tomoe’s hairpin," he whispered. "It was at her grave after Enishi…."

He squeezed his eyes shut. There was something about that hairpin, if only he could remember….

‘Pain,’ he thought. ‘I was in pain…. It was an injury, a severe one. I opened my eyes and saw that hairpin….in white hair, on a man…. It was an old man, and he was trying to get me to eat. He called me his son, said he was proud…. But his name, I can’t remember…. The others, though, they called him….Yes! They called him Oibore!’

Kenshin’s eyes flew open. "I remember!" he shouted. "It was in Rakuninmura! The old man, they called him Oibore! He saved me! He made me eat, he made me think! If it hadn’t been for him, I would have died there! Oibore! He was Tomoe’s father!"

"In Rakuninmura?!" Misao and Yahiko said in unison as they stared at each other.

"Not that old geezer who came begging for a meal?" Misao said.

"Yeah," Yahiko added, "now that I think about it, he did come right after we visited Kenshin in Rakuninmura."

"And that would explain how your wounds seemed to be awfully clean when you finally did come back to us," Megumi noted.

Sano was rubbing his head. "I don’t remember meeting anyone like that."

"Oh, yes, you’ve met him, too," countered Megumi. "At Kaoru’s funeral, remember? When you and Saitou almost came to blows? There was an old man standing there—you talked to him even! That was Oibore. Looks like all of us—except you, Kaoru—have met him."

"But how could he have known…?" Kenshin asked, still half in a daze.

Kaoru had been silent the whole time, deep in thought. At this, she looked up. "Isn’t it obvious?" she said. "It was Tomoe—Tomoe brought her father to you. Didn’t you say that when you were in Rakuninmura that Tomoe came to you in a dream, that she smiled for you? Don’t you see, she was still looking out for you!"

Kenshin looked again at the book he held in his hands. Now he understood why Toshiro wanted him to read it and leave nothing out—it had been written by Tomoe’s father, and obviously written after her father had read her diary. Kenshin read the last few lines of the book again and realized that within those lines was forgiveness for his past and, therefore, for the death of Tomoe at his hands. Six years ago he had found a way to make a semblance of peace with himself over his past as a hitokiri, but he had never been able to forgive himself for what happened to Tomoe. Her father, however, had forgiven him. Now he felt that a last weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Kaoru was right—Tomoe was still looking out for him.

‘Tomoe,’ Kenshin thought. ‘She was kinder than anyone I ever knew….’ And he could have sworn that, in his heart, Tomoe was smiling once again.

The End.