Disclaimer: None of the Rurouni Kenshin characters are mine (Couldn't I
have Saitou?? No?! How about Aoshi? No?! *sniffs*) and they all belong
to Nobuhiro Watsuki-sama. I acknowledge his rights and those of all
companies associated with RK. However, the plot and all original
characters, including the character outline of Saitou Tokio are mine.
Please do not take them without permission. Arigatou.

Author's Note: I have had a traumatic morning, handed up assignments and
sat for a test. All before 12 noon. Isn't there a law to protect people
like me? Anyways, to reward myself and further tax my brain cells, I
decided to tweak a rough draft and crank out the third chapter.
(I know I keep saying I'll stop. Ignore me.) Hope you enjoy it. Btw, if
anyone wants a fuller picture on Tokio's past, they should read 'One
Night.' She'll be coming in a lot at a later point.

Serizawa Kamo's Translation Index has provided all the information I
needed on the Shinsengumi. It is one of the most well informed sites out
there. He'll probably never see this but just in case, I would like to
express my thanks and acknowledgement of his page and the information I
gleaned from it. Also, all historical events here are fictitious. This
is a fanfic, ain't it? :P



Chapter Three: Boundaries


While Sanosuke had been making his way slow relaxed way to Tokyo, the
same could hardly be said for Kamatari and Misao.

"I thought you told me you'd shaken them off for a while!" Misao
hollered, channelling her rage and frustration into that one shout as
she swept her leg up in a perfect roundhouse kick. Her heel cracked
against the man's temple and he went down like a ton of bricks. She had
barely caught her breath when another three more converged on her.
"Kantatsu Tobi Kunai!" Metal projectiles streaked through the air,
tearing into cloth and flesh. But they kept coming.

"You told me this was a secret path!" Kamatari screamed back. An
assassin lunged, thrusting a wicked looking spear that almost skewered
him. He spun, lashing out with his left hand and grabbed onto his
attacker's weapon arm. With all his considerable strength he yanked the
latter towards him. The long knife that appeared in his right hand
flashed and there was a rainbow spray of deep crimson as he rammed it
through the assassin's ribs, straight to the heart. A dying scream
issued from the man even as Kamatari thrust him off, throwing him at
Misao's assailants.

"What are you doing?" He bit out furiously as they raced through the
forest. "Those men are trying to kill you!"

"I know that!"

"Then why aren't you killing them?"

She dreaded that question because twice before it had occurred to her,
however fleetingly, that if she didn't inflict some serious damage on
her enemies soon, they were going to hurt her badly. Already she was
being singled out because of her obvious reluctance to kill.

She and Kamatari had stopped off at a station early that morning and had
been on the move ever since. Overhead the blazing sun and short shadows
informed her that it was noon. They were both tired and hungry. And
things had escalated to disastrous proportions with the appearance of
the masked assassins four hours ago. They were probably crawling all
over the place, blocking off any roads to Okayama.

"I can't kill them. I promised myself that I wouldn't take a life," she
muttered, almost tripping on a root hidden in the soil and grass.

"This isn't a game Misao. I can't keep covering you if you insist on
broadcasting your weakness to them. You aren't even using your kunai to
hit their vital points." Kamatari's profile was grim as he sped
alongside the ninja girl. By his calculations, there were at least six
assassins on their trail and the noise of the battle would probably
continue to attract more. Their situation was desperate, to say the
least. "How many kunai have you got left?"

The hand she slipped out of her belt revealed that she had four. "Good,
don't throw those. Use them to spike your punches." She turned a little
whiter although her face was pinched with effort, one cheek scraped with
dirt and the beginnings of a light bruise. "Drawing blood isn't
tantamount to murder," he snapped. "Just put them down quicker and maybe
we'll make it out of here." He himself bore a long shallow gash down his
back that ripped a little more with every sudden move he made.

She ran silently beside him, her eyes searching the trees for an ambush
even as conflict rose in her mind, tightening her chest. Kamatari's
words made sense, she knew that. Her own muscles burned with fatigue,
she couldn't keep expending extra effort to bring the men down without
hurting them. 'Drawing blood may not be equivalent to murder,' she
thought. 'But it surely must be the first step down that road.'

"Which way?" They had come to a bend. If they went on ahead, it would
take them around the hill and deeper into the woods. The only other
alternative was a rough scramble down the slope that would lead to the
main travelling roads.

Misao thought hard before coming to a decision. "Secrecy is no longer an
aid to us. Perhaps out in the open they might not be so inclined to
create a scene." The brown-haired spy nodded his assent and they both
started down. Loose soil turned traitor as she slipped and slid,
clutching with her free hand at the long grasses for some purchase.
Kamatari was already at the bottom when his blue eyes widened and the
sound of rustling alerted Misao to the approaching danger close behind.

Things happened so fast that later she would have trouble piecing the
incident together when she recalled it. She turned. A shadow loomed up
against the sun, the dark length of an arm drawn back, the katana blade
glittering like a far off star about to strike her. Instinct took over,
adrenaline seared her nerves and in that moment Misao reacted
unthinkingly. She leapt in, closing the distance between them and with
her right hand drew back and struck with all her might. She didn't
understand why the man let out such a howl that the hair on her arms
stood on end until she saw the blood gushing from between his fingers.
Which were clapped over his eyes.

'Oh my God ...' Years of training had taught her that the eyes were one
of the most vulnerable points of attack. And she had executed her move
perfectly. Only she had forgotten about the kunai still clutched in her
fingers. Ruby liquid dripped down her hand, trickling under the top of
her wrist guard.

And then Kamatari was at her side, dragging her away and she was running
blind. Nettles scratched her legs but the pain hardly registered. She
thought she could still hear screaming on the wind. They broke through
the forest edge, crouched like wild animals behind the trees as he
surveyed the road. A carriage approached from the distance.

Glancing behind, Kamatari peered at the forest, trying his best to sense
for any 'ki' or fighting spirit. Auras were easy to detect when one's
enemies harboured killing in their hearts and minds. "They won't find us
for the next few minutes," he said softly. "Listen to me, chances are
that that carriage is headed for Okayama. We will make a run for it.
You'll go in first, I'll follow behind. Make sure that the people inside
raise no alarm." Even if their trackers spotted the carriage, the sight
of an unflustered driver would assure them that it had not been
hijacked. Misao remained mute, still dazed. Kamatari panicked then. He
needed her cooperation if they were going to seize this one chance to
escape. "Makimachi Misao, you are the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu and
you are a disgrace if you cannot bear the burden you freely took on.
Shinomori wouldn't even need me to tell him what to do," he rebuked harshly.

Cruel words but they did their job. They served as a distraction from
the horror of her actions. Misao's eyes flashed to life with brilliant
ire as she swept his hands off her shoulders. "You will not speak to me
in such a manner," she hissed and the undertone of rage in her voice
shook him momentarily.

A minute passed and then the horse was cantering past them, the driver
oblivious to the intense gazes upon him. He never noticed the two lithe
figures that sprang from the side like lightning, never heard them as
they ripped the door open and gently shut it behind them.

"Thank Kami," Kamatari muttered, yanking down the lace curtains over the
windows. He turned to see Misao's pale face wiped of all expression, saw
the bloodied kunai she held against the foreigner's white throat. And
then he saw the little black-haired child that the man was clutching
against his side.

She wanted to reassure them that she wasn't going to hurt them. She
really did. It didn't matter that she couldn't speak a word of English.
All she had to do was put away the kunai. But she couldn't. She tried to
tell herself that Kamatari would probably have cut his throat, that it
was better that she held him hostage. But it didn't change the fact that
in his daughter's eyes, she was the most horrible person in the world,
the person who was threatening her father's life.

Misao fought to control her conscience that was roaring at her. This was
war and it was important. But it still didn't excuse her actions.
Perhaps when she got back she would talk to Jiya about this. And one day
the guilt would go away. But for now, she was going to have to live with
it.

"Here, let me instead." A gentle hand pushed hers away and then his
knife replaced her kunai at the man's throat. "Search him for a gun. I'm
sure he has one on him."

Mechanically, she touched the rich caramel-coloured suit, vaguely noting
how her hands were dirtying the pristine cloth. Patting him down gently,
she found it in a side pocket sewn in at the side of his jacket. The man
twitched a little when she took the gun from him and he looked like a
helpless, defenceless animal. It pained her that she could do this to
another person, she, who had always prided herself on being opposed to
lawlessness and wrongdoing.

The child whimpered then, frightened yet angry eyes glaring accusingly
at Misao. She turned away and looked outside the window instead.

"Okayama?" Kamatari asked. "Okayama?" he repeated impatiently,
indicating to the driver and horse outside.

"Err ...hai, hai," the man replied hastily in broken Japanese, grey eyes
darting from the man to the girl and back again. They were terribly
dirty, the blood on them frightened him as well. But there was a cool
ruthlessness in the face of the young man, a certain hardness that the
girl lacked. It occurred to him that all they wanted was the use of his
carriage. At least Amelie and he would be safe then. When the girl
glanced at him, he tried to smile a little, to let her know that he
would be cooperative. Something akin to horror arose in her expression
and her eyes shuttered. He didn't know that he had just done the worst
possible thing he could have done to her. He had shown that he was
utterly harmless, that she had just threatened a totally innocent man
and child.

....................................


He stood by the window, silhouetted against the setting sun. Long red
rays reached out, caressing raven hair, drawing out the shadows on his
hard features.

"Hajime?"

He didn't turn around but the slight inclination of his head told her he
acknowledged her presence. Tokio remained at the doorway, eyeing her
husband speculatively. So her instincts had been correct, it had been
bad news after all. It was odd that the station would despatch
messengers to their home, especially since they were leaving for
Yokohama that evening itself. Hajime had returned an hour before and
less than two minutes after he stepped through the door, the officer,
nervous and shaking, had begged permission to speak with Inspector
Fujita Goro.

"They found Chiro's body a week ago, floating down a river. He was the
spy that worked with Honjo Kamatari in China. And unsurprisingly,
Kamatari is missing."

"You think this means trouble for the Trade summit." The signing of the
treaty would take place in nine days. Japan was counting on economic
harmony and agreement with one of the ruling colonial powers in order to
improve her own position and more importantly, to preserve her own
independence through the alliance. Other European nations were already
circling the region like sharks. Japan needed the British to ward them off.

"It's too much of a coincidence." He held out his hand to her and she
walked to him, clasping it firmly in hers. Outwardly Hajime looked as
calm and composed as ever. Only she knew how much this news troubled
him. "Always, traitors in our midst," he said softly, a dangerous gleam
in his eye. The spy Chiro's death could only mean two things: Either
Kamatari had betrayed him, or both of them had been sold out and now
Kamatari was running for his life. Which in turn pointed to another more
sinister plot looming ahead.

"What will you do?"

"I've already taken measures. The government's resources aren't the only
avenues of information that I have access to."

Tokio thought for a second before she said, "The Oniwabanshuu. Shinomori
owes you a favour as does Makimachi Misao. They'll be able to carry out
the investigation without government traitors hampering their efforts."

"I've sent word to Shinomori, asking him to meet me in Yokohama." He
smiled and brushed his cheek against her hair. "If he declines to help
I'll remind him of the favour you spoke of."

Tokio chuckled. "Just a suggestion. But he is the Okashira of the
Oniwabanshuu, regardless of Makimachi Misao's formal assumption of that
role. After the thrashing Battousai Himura gave him I think he should
remember that his duty is to Japan-"

She broke off when he suddenly released her hand. Tokio's look of
puzzlement evaporated as she sensed what he had already known three
seconds earlier. There was someone moving up the corridor towards the
room. Already Saitou's hand was at his side, palm resting on the hilt of
his nihontou. Tokio's own blade was resting on the ceremonial holders in
their bedroom but she was far from unarmed. The silver pins that held
her long thick hair in place served another purpose as well.

"Dai ichijou: Shidou ni somuki majiki koto..."
(First Article: It's not allowed to deviate from the path proper to man.)

Saitou sucked in his breath as the low words reached him. 'The first law
of the Shinsengumi.' It had been years since another had spoken those
words he knew so well. And that voice...like a shadow from the past it
reached out and drew him back. He knew who it was.

"Dai nijou: Kyoku wo dassuru kotowo yurusazu..."
(Second Article: It's not allowed to leave the Shinsengumi.)

Behind her husband Tokio paled. At once she knew where this was heading.
Saitou's fighting spirit charged the air like lightning before a storm.
An answering flare came from behind the wall and then into the open
doorway stepped a tall man, dark-haired with green eyes as hard and
unforgiving as jade.

"Saitou Hajime," the man said softly, drawing his blade, the soft scrape
of metal on metal filling the stark silence of the room. "It's been a
long time. Old friend."

------------------------------------------------------------------------