Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki, not poor me.
Original characters and plot are though.

Author's Notes: Mmmm...this chapter was rather difficult, one of those
that I spent more time on...... I'm not sure if this is good or if it
sucks. So please be kind and review, lemme know what works and what
doesn't. A/M is turning out to be very interesting and complicated and I
am tentatively angling for some points I'd like to explore. Thanks,
minna-san!

P.S: le bleup phenix, hope this has enuff' action for the time
being...there'll be more later... Morgane, just keep reviewing! I'm not
fussy!! *L* And thanks for the comment on Saitou...that's high praise
coming from you...^_^



Chapter Nine: Bittersweet


General Yamagata looked slightly relieved when the door opened and
Saitou Hajime walked in. As usual, the man looked calm and unruffled,
completely in control of himself. Come to think of it, Yamagata mused,
as he made the appropriate introductions, the only time he had ever seen
Saitou lose his temper was during the fight with Battousai. If
Toshimichi and Kawaji had not intervened in time, it was highly probable
that either Himura or Saitou would not be alive to this day. And Shishio
Makoto would have won. "But he didn't. And neither is this spy, this
Shinohara," Yamagata promised himself. Toshimichi Okubo had given his
life for this country; he would do no less.

The two men couldn't have been more different. Lord Townsend, about
fifty with greying brown hair and twinkling blue eyes, actually did away
with the European custom of shaking hands and instead bowed in polite
greeting. And no wonder his interpreter-secretary looked bored, the man
spoke fluent Japanese. On the other hand, Saitou could see why Saitsuchi
disliked Carrington enough to accuse him of conspiracy. The man was
around his own age, tall with pale blond hair and a pair of green eyes
that clearly conveyed his disdain for his present surroundings. Saitou
didn't bother offering his hand and neither did Carrington.

"Hmm, I suppose you'll just have to do the usual greeting," he nodded
derisively at the Japanese man at his side who had the good grace to
look chagrined and embarrassed. Spaniel brown eyes met Saitou's and in
that moment, Shinohara Sasaki locked gazes with the man whom he had
tried to assassinate.

"Ohaiyo, Saitou-san. My name is Tanaka Shuuichi and..."

"Good morning Tanaka-san. And 'the usual greeting' to you, Sir Carrington."

Townsend gave a sharp bark of laughter and Carrington turned a shade
whiter. Saitou's English was flawless, right down to the clipped British
accent. Shinohara allowed his surprise to show, there was no harm in it.
It suited his identity as Tanaka Shuuichi, the hardworking and
longsuffering civil servant. 'This is going to be interesting,' he
thought gleefully.

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

Even in the shade it was terribly hot. Misao tried not to fidget as she
waited for Aoshi to come out of the drinking house. She also tried to
forget the image of those loose women clinging to him as they cooed and
wheedled for him to patronise the place. It was horribly upsetting to
see those vile females pawing her Aoshi-sama but at the same time it was
highly amusing. The expression on his face as the five of them latched
onto him could only be described as vaguely uncomfortable.

"Still, it's all for Japan," she said with ironic humour tinged with
bitterness. Her eyes travelled to the light splotches that still stained
her wrist guards in spite of her best efforts to wash them out. 'Blood
on my hands,' she thought. She had blinded a man for life. Saitou would
chalk it up to service for the nation. Somehow, that reasoning only made
her feel worse. 'Kami, I'm beginning to think like Saitou now.' That had
to be a bad thing.

She wondered whether Aoshi would find out what he wanted. It was a
commonly known and unwritten rule that if one was new in town and needed
to get information, taverns and inns were the places to go. The more
disreputable, the better. People talked when they were full of sake,
when their egos were plumped with the pretty flattery of pretty females.
And men from all walks of life visited places like these. Misao had
toyed with the idea of posing as one of the entertainment women. Aoshi
had put his foot down firmly and had threatened to have her sent back to
Kyoto. "What do you care?" she had asked rebelliously. As usual,
Aoshi-sama had no reaction whatsoever but went on to discuss what he had
planned for them, leaving her to fume in silence. They still weren't on
talking terms.

"And to think I'm the Okashira," Misao muttered. "But then again, who am
I fooling? Everyone knows Aoshi-sama is a better leader and fighter than
I'll ever be." The reaction of her Oniwabanshuu along with Kaoru's was
still fresh in her mind as though it had happened just the day before.
"I wonder what Ojii-san would say?" Makimachi Ichikawa had been an
exceptional leader. At the back of her mind was always the anxiety to
live up to his repute, to Aoshi-sama's repute. A hot blush coloured
Misao's cheeks and she bit her lip. Sometimes she felt like she had fai-

One of the men assigned to them by Saitou had exited a tavern close to
Aoshi's. But that was not what interrupted Misao's thoughts. It was the
man trailing him that had attracted her attention. He looked ordinary
enough and he was even keeping his distance from the policeman. But the
street was crowded and the grace with which he weaved his way between
the shoving bodies without bumping into them marked him out. Also, not
once had he let his eyes rove from the policeman. 'Shinohara Sasaki's
man.' Goosebumps rippled on her skin. 'If I can catch him, perhaps with
some interrogation...' Quickly she stepped into the human river and
worked her way towards the spy. A few people sent inquiring looks her
way but that was only because of the plain blue manto she wore to cover
up her uniform.

Unfortunately for Misao, the spy was no slouch himself and spotted her
as well. He retreated back the way he came and after that Misao was left
with no choice but to give open chase. Ignoring the policeman who was
coming towards her, she practically thrust him aside as she darted after
the spy.

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

Gyotaro eyed the visitor curiously. He just didn't fit in, this man who
wore a leather trenchcoat and his ice blue eyes like a mask. Of course
there were dozens of other more flamboyant characters in the drinking
house. Almost all the men in the inn were armed in one way or another.
Most openly flouted the law barring the carrying of swords. But none of
them had the aura of command or danger that this one had.

When Aoshi sent a serving girl to him, requesting for a moment of the
proprietor's time, Gyotaro knew more or less what to expect. This was
not the first time he had been approached to give information.

"What do you want?"

Straightforward, to the point and he knew better than to ask for a name.
Aoshi liked that. It saved them both time and effort. "I'd like to know
if there have been any...strangers in town recently."

"Strangers? You're going to have to be a lot more specific than that,"
the middle-aged man snorted. "Come now young man," he leaned forward,
resting his elbows on the low table. "Just what exactly are you looking
for?"

"I think you have some idea of what I am talking about." Aoshi lifted
his tea cup and took a tentative sip. He put it back down again.
Drinking houses never bothered overmuch with the quality of the tea they
served. Gyotaro simply hummed a low tune and continued fiddling with his
own sake cup, his stubby fingers tracing the crude patterning of flowers.

"You know young man, my time is wasting. However, I do love a good
intrigue now and then. And I'm not interested in money, not as much as I
am in the goings-on of this city," he added in a strange self-satisfied
manner. "So don't worry about others coming in to bribe me about what
you have been up to. I know when to keep this old mouth shut."

He could trust him, Aoshi decided. Those black eyes were sharp with a
wisdom and common sense that too many people lacked. "I'm looking for a
network of spies that have infiltrated Yokohama. Have you noticed or
seen anything unusual?"

Gyotaro thought for a while before shaking his head, the dim candlelight
reflecting of the prominent bald spot right on top of it. "It's rather
unfortunate that Yokohama has become so crowded in the past three years.
Ever since the railway line and the government's efforts to develop it
into an international sea port and town......" He shrugged, looking
mildly unhappy. Aoshi had the feeling that the man regarded himself as
quite the information hub. And with such pride usually came the urge to
salvage this regard if it were damaged in any way. A few moments later,
Gyotaro proved him right. "I may not know about the spies, but I do have
some interesting information about the government activities here."

"British?"

Gyotaro grinned and pointed discreetly at a group of foreign soldiers
who were at the moment, quite drunk out of their wits. But then again,
so were most of the other patrons. "They talk a lot when they get like
that. And then there are other sources..."

"You seem to have an impressive network," Aoshi said sincerely. "Do you
know anything about the British officials who are involved with the
recent treaty?"

In the next fifteen minutes Aoshi became intimately acquainted with
Carrington's racist behaviour as well as the latter's scandalous
exploits with Japanese prostitutes. "He looks down on our country but
the ladies are good enough for him." Gyotaro's voice dripped with
immeasurable contempt. Aoshi privately agreed with his low opinion of
the British man but so far he had learnt nothing of value.

With masterful skill Aoshi concealed his growing impatience. "Is there
anything else?" A wide smile spread across the proprietor's face as he
drained his cup, his sixth cup, Aoshi noted. Amazingly he was still
completely lucid.

"Patience my young friend," he chuckled. "Humour an old man who hasn't
enjoyed a chat this much in a long time."

A chat? Aoshi continued staring at the man, the same impassive gaze
still on his face although inside he felt the mild urge to throttle the
grinning fellow. Time was of the essence and he wanted to chat?

'Oh, he has a temper alright,' Gyotaro thought with almost perverse glee
as he knocked back another round of sake. 'Keeps it thoroughly under
wraps but its there.' In his forty odd years of life, he had learned
some things, most of them from his late wife, Kami bless her. What did
Iori use to say ... still waters run deep? Something along those lines
anyway.

"I don't have that much time to spare," Aoshi said, the slightest edge
to his words. He didn't like being manipulated and he certainly was not
thrilled to realise that he was being assessed. The proprietor was
subtle but Aoshi was sharper. "And my time is wasting." He threw the
man's own words back at him.

"Feisty, aren't you? Just like that little miss waiting for you outside."

Ken ki flared and a chill wind swept past Gyotaro. "Oh relax, she's
fine," he admonished, seemingly impervious to the hard blue eyes that
promised a swift and painful death if Aoshi perceived any threat to
Misao. "Now, about that information," he happily continued. "You should
keep an eye on the British Ambassador. A friend of mine spotted a masked
figure leaving his bedroom a few nights ago."

"And what was your 'friend' doing in the temporary quarters of the
British diplomats and officials?" Not to mention how on earth he had
gotten in. Security there was as tight as any that Aoshi had ever seen.

"Ahh...that's private," Gyotaro demurred. "But the information's good, I
give you my word on that." Aoshi thanked him politely and picking up his
sword sheath, unhurriedly made his way out of the dark smoky room. "A
fine young man," Gyotaro smiled to himself and toasted Aoshi.

"You're just biased," a voice teased in low dulcet tones. Silk brushed
his arm as Kanumi sat down beside him. After his wife, she was the
prettiest woman he had ever seen. "Did he recognise you?"

"Of course not. He was only seven when I left," Gyotaro sighed. "And I
wasn't too sure if it was him until later on. He was singled out you
know, as a potential second-in-command for the Okashira's son."

"You didn't tell him what I was doing, did you?" she demanded, leaning
in closer.

"My dear, one does not tell tales on one's friends. Even if they are
notorious thieves," he said with a sly wink. Kanumi gave him a haughty
look before spoiling the effect by laughing.

"You know, I never did get that antique. Maybe when the trouble dies
down I'll go back for it."

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

Misao knew that she was faster, better and more skilled than the man she
had finally cornered in a tiny passageway between two buildings. When he
realised that he wouldn't be able to shake her off, he had turned around
and attacked instead. She should have taken him down within minutes.

'So why haven't you?' she asked herself even as she ducked a punch he
threw at her face, falling back by a few paces. There was no denying
that he had her on the defensive, a completely laughable position from
her point of view.

"What are you, scared? Are you frightened, little girl?" he taunted,
growing bolder and more stupid in his arrogance by the minute. Misao
wasn't so much concerned with him as she was with herself.

I am scared, she realised. It had started with her hesitance to use her
kunai. The moment her hand reached inside the uniform and touched the
warm metal, she recoiled from them. Blades meant blood and blood
meant...for a second she could hear the screaming of the assassin she
had blinded for life. Nothing could change that fact or erase it. She
would always remember him.

Taking advantage of Misao's distracted frame of mind, the spy feinted a
move to the right. Misao moved to block what she thought was a kick.
Agony exploded in her ribs as the brass knuckles he wore connected and
she flew back, landing hard on the ground. "Kisama," she swore softly
through gritted teeth, biting on her lip to keep from crying out. If she
had reacted a second later, he would surely have broken some bones.
Instinct and training had saved her once again. Angrily she got to her
feet, one hand clutched to her ribs. "You're right," she told her
opponent softly. "I am scared. Scared that I might hurt you."

The man snorted with laughter as he prepared for what he thought would
be a final assault. The girl was no match for him, he decided. "I'd like
to see you try."

Misao took a deep breath and then let her hands fall to her sides. "Come
on then." Focusing her mind and spirit, she fixed her eyes on him,
blocking out her surroundings. The sounds of the main street faded, as
did the midday heat. Nothing mattered except this man. And what she was
going to do to him.

With a roar that was more bluster than menace, he rushed at her and
Misao sidestepped swiftly. Spinning around, he glared at her and she
gave him a cocky smile. "You were saying?" she asked sweetly, ignoring
the aching pain in her side. 'Definitely fractured, but not too bad.'

Once more he rushed her but this time Misao braced herself. As she
ducked out of his way she seized his arm and shoulder, and with all her
strength swung him towards the wall. Carried by his own momentum, the
spy was unable to stop himself from smashing right into it. Before he
could react, she brought her foot down on his ankle and there was a
distinct 'crack' as the bone gave way. He collapsed in the dust and she
swiftly jerked his arms behind his back, pushing her right knee onto his
locked wrists.

"I told you I would hurt you," she repeated. "But it doesn't mean that
I'm going to kill you. I'm not a killer," Misao said quietly. She knew
that now. Just like the assassin in the forest, this man too had meant
to take her life but not for one moment had she ever considered killing
him. And she had never meant to deliberately inflict such a devastating
injury on the assassin as well.

"Aiieee!"

The sound of a bloodcurdling scream sent her to her feet and she whirled
around. Something bright flashed in the sunlight up ahead and there was
the figure of a man. "A-aoshi-sama?"

"Makimachi-san!" The policeman called from behind, hurrying up to Misao.
"Thank God! You were about to be shot. Shinomori-san saved your life.
Here, I'll take him." The officer quickly cuffed the fallen spy but
Misao was already walking towards the mouth of the passageway where
Aoshi and a bloodied corpse awaited her.

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

The moment he had exited the drinking house, the police officer had
practically pounced on him with relief while relating what had happened
with Misao. Directing the officer to pursue the direction Misao had
taken, Aoshi himself had taken another route to cut off the spy.

It was then that he saw another figure, a shinobi in plain black uniform
leaping over the rooftops with ease. Misao's public chase must have
attracted the attention of more than the townspeople.

Aoshi stalked the ninja until the latter came to a halt and hid behind
some crates that lay at the entrance of a passageway between a
mercantile shop and a provision store. Faint sounds of scuffling and
taunting words carried on the wind made Aoshi move closer as he angled
for a decent vantage point. He was worried for Misao but confident that
she could handle herself. A frown creased his smooth brow as he watched
her half-hearted offensive attempts and when the spy had knocked her
down, Aoshi had almost stepped in. But Misao had pulled herself together
and even from where he was, Aoshi could see the determination that
burned in her eyes. 'I must find out what happened while she was with
Kamatari.' He couldn't stop himself from thinking that he should have
gone after her, should have chased her down and brought her back to the
Aoiya. Once more, it was his fault that she had been hurt. Always he
seemed to fail where Misao was concerned.

The ninja hissed in fury when she subdued the man. Completely unaware of
Aoshi who was slowly coming up behind him, he reached into his tunic and
withdrew a gun.

"...I told you I would hurt you..."

Aoshi could hear Misao's voice now. It was faint but clear. The ninja
very carefully took aim, holding the gun with both hands. He didn't hear
the soft thud of the sheath hitting the floor as Aoshi drew his blades.

"...It doesn't mean that I'm going to kill you..."

The ninja curled his finger around the trigger. Then his eyes widened as
behind him, Aoshi deliberately scraped the tips of his kodachi together.

"...I'm not a killer..."

There was only time enough to scream as Aoshi slashed him, the kodachi
running through flesh and bone like hot knives through butter. Blood
sprayed the air and splattered against the sides of the walls, falling
like rain. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

"A-aoshi-sama?"

The policeman had finally arrived but Aoshi had only eyes for Misao as
he watched her approach, her own eyes wide with horror as she stared at
the body. He felt the force of her revulsion like a physical wound and
her words rang in his ears... "I'm not a killer...not a killer..."

"Aoshi-sama..." Misao was looking at him in bewildered confusion and he
felt a strange combination of tenderness mixed with bitterness.

"Sumanai, Misao. I'm sorry you had to see that," he said quietly.
Flicking the kodachi clean from the blood that stained it, he sheathed
them and then motioned to the officer who forced the spy to his feet.
"Come, we should take that man back to the police headquarters for
questioning."

"Aoshi..."

He halted in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at her. For one
moment his eyes were unguarded and Misao saw in them a depth of sadness
unimaginable. She stepped back, stunned. And then the moment passed.
Aoshi turned away and after a few seconds, Misao slowly followed after him.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comments: Okie...obviously Aoshi has ISSUES and I will go into these
soon enuff'...haha..first I torture Eni-kun in Jinchuu and now Aoshi...
:P Also, if I'm not wrong, Misao hasn't actually ever seen anyone killed
in front of her, except maybe that incident with Okina but he lived.
Still, it was traumatic and now her precious Aoshi-sama goes and kills
someone for real in front of her. Makes for a lot of angst, this does.

(Star Wars is back!!! I'm in Jedi Heaven ...*jumps around*)

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