Standard Disclaimer: Unfortunately I neither own Rurouni Kenshin nor the 
characters but at least the story is mine

First of all I thank you for your reviews! They never fail to encourage me 
whenever I think that my fics are the worst ever written or when I don't know 
how to go on with the story!

Like always, I'd like to mention Mara, who helped me with her criticism again, 
and this time also Priya-chan, who is beta-reading the story! Hopefully, this 
will be the end of my horrible mistakes! Thank you very, very much for your 
trouble!!!

Chapter 5: Home sweet home

Saitou cast a long look over the rim of his bowl as he elegantly picked up some 
of his soba noodles, to his opposite, who poked listlessly in her meal. She was 
as oblivious to his glance as she was to how carefully she was being stalked by 
all men entering the small restaurant they had chosen for dinner. He himself, 
however, was keenly aware of it, 
shooting threatening glances towards her admirers from time to time, clearly 
indicating to them to leave him and his property in peace ALONE, before 
examining the girl once more. 

Black hair shining with blue overtones, creating a strong contrast to the pale 
skin, an ever so lustrous flush of good health apparent on her delicate 
features, red lips and sparkling blue-green eyes whose depths displayed youthful 
innocence and hot temper at the same time. He could not blame the men for 
staring at her; the weasel girl had definitely turned into an interesting match 
since he had first met her. Although, he added bemused, she was still as easy to 
enrage as ever.

"It's no wonder that you're as thin as a weasel considering how you pick on your 
food," he finally broke the silence in mocking earnestness. 

Throwing a deadly glance over at him, she obviously tried her best not to hurl 
her chopsticks in his smirking face. "Can't you even let me enjoy my dinner in 
peace?" she hissed at him. "You can't imagine how much your attitude sucks!"

He merely raised a brow in response. "Since I'm paying for your meal, you're 
hardly in a position to criticize my attitude, Weasel."

As he calmly continued eating his soba, he felt the girl's temper spark with 
certain amusement.

"Stop calling me that!"

"Stop acting like one."

Although snorting loudly, she did not return anything and began to make inroads 
on her soup again, missing the wicked gleam in the wolf's golden eyes. Makimachi 
Misao had always been an amusing diversion to him, but he hadn't imagined how 
interesting this journey with her would be. He was a man who was bored quite 
easily, but that child's caprices and angry outbursts never failed to entertain 
him or to lighten his mood. 

How very different from Tokio she was...

He abandoned the thought quickly. Now was certainly not the time to think about 
his wife and all the problems connected with her. Better to focus on his mission 
and only on his mission.

Once more he eyed the ninja girl secretly. They had agreed not to speak about 
her visit at the local Oniwanbanshuu before they were in the safe privacy of 
their home, but telling from the sparkling anticipation in her luminous eyes, he 
could already feel that she brought important information along.

Finishing his noodles, he settled down back, thinking about the Oniwabanshuu and 
their spy net more distinctfully. In the past, as well as in the present, they 
were the best at their work - talented, fearless and living to their own code of 
honor alone like the Shinsengumi. When he had heard about the conspiracy in 
Shanghai and its secret base in Osaka, he had instantly thought of using the 
local ninjas for his goals, although he had, of course, never expected the old 
idiot, Okina, to send his young, over-energetic fledging of all things to him. 
But when he thought about it, Makimachi Misao had certainly not been the worst 
choice.

Of course, the girl was way too emotional, most often naïve, and her lack of 
patience would most probably get her killed some day, but nevertheless she was a 
skilled ninja and a talented spy. Even her fighting style, which he had just now 
skeptically observed from the shadows before being forced to interfere, was not 
as bad as he had assumed. Considering her youth and the fact that nobody had 
trained her properly since the age of eight, she actually did quite nicely and 
with a little discipline and self-control, she would probably be formidable. 

He frowned and observed her furtive from the corner of his eyes. Being a 
mediocre fighter was one of the quickest paths to death and he had never been 
able to witness a waste of good talent. But then, the Weasel Girl, although 
lacking experience and proper training, had spirit and self-belief, which helped 
her through her fights. 

His eyes narrowed slightly. Yes, she had spirit, but he had the unfaultable 
impression that it had obviously been crucially damaged somehow since they first 
met three years ago. Back then, she had never stopped to babble about her 
precious okashira, but ever since the journey had started, she had not even 
mentioned his name once. Instead, he sometimes caught her with a strange look of 
pain and bitterness in her eyes, a look, that 
reminded him of his wife sitting on her window seat, staring into a secret only 
she could see.

He shook his head and focused back on the girl in front of him. Did something 
happen between her and Shinomori?

A wicked gleam began to shine in his amber eyes. Or, far worse, did still 
nothing happen? 

"You are abnormally quiet, Weasel Girl", he told her in his usual unconcerned 
tone. "

The girl raised her head, giving him a burning stare. "You don't know what you 
want, do you?" she gritted out. "You keep telling me for days that my chatter is 
getting on your nerves and now you want me to make small-talk?!"

A smirk appeared on Saitou's thin lips. "I definitely did not express the wish 
to hear your mindless bubbling any more than necessary, I just pointed out that 
this quietness is rather unusual for you." His eyes met with hers directly. "I 
wonder what you are thinking about so hard."

As her cheeks began to flush, his smirk widened. "But then the answer is not 
difficult to give. Am I right when I assume that your thoughts center around a 
certain tea-drinking icicle sitting in Kyoto?"

The bright light in her eyes faded away abruptly, only leaving a frightened, 
desolate and empty-eyed child. Again he thought of Tokio.

"Your guess is wrong."

He smirked coldly. "Lying is not your specialty, weasel."

"LISTEN, I DON`T WANT TO SPEAK ABOUT IT!"

Still eying her mockingly, he searched for a cigarette in his jacket. That had 
been plain.

Lighting up a match, he thought about Shinomori Aoshi, the man who had caused 
this whole trouble. As far as he could see, the younger man, although being an 
excellent 
fighter and a brilliant strategist, was a moron who didn't even know his own 
soul. It was quite obvious that he had strong feelings for the Weasel but that 
he had locked up all his emotions so long ago that he would not recognize them 
for what they were even if they hit him on his stubborn head.

Again he eyed the girl opposite to him secretly. Although he always mocked her 
about being overly thin, he had to admit that her willowy, slender form and her 
girlish curves were not unattractive. And in addition to this her brilliant eyes 
and her full lips... Shinomori was an idiot.

And so was he, he added amusedly about himself, for what the hell was he doing 
here and wondering about that kid's love life?

Again he inhaled deeply. "You realize that there isn't much sense in stirring in 
your soup without ever eating something of it, don't you?" he demanded casually.

Angrily, Misao tossed her chopsticks on the table and folded her arms in front 
of her breasts. "I'm not hungry anyway!"

Calmly Saitou finished his cigarette, before waving a hand to the waitress, his 
smile pleasant and fixed in place. "Then we can as well pay and go home, I 
assume."

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The horizon was lost in gray mist, hiding the sun from the people on the ship 
who looked up from time to time, instantly frightened by the vastness around 
them, and glad about the break they enjoyed on the island's little harbor before 
continuing their journey to Japan. The ocean around was tumbling in over the 
shallows, its waves sounding like some presage of doom. Apart from this ever so 
stoic sound, only the shrill cries of the seagulls broke the silence.

The Phantom was sitting in the bow, his cold eyes fixed on the gray horizon. 
Fifteen years. Fifteen years and he was finally returning home. He could not 
quite make out the feeling which was dwelling upon him on this moment; it was a 
mixture of regret, melancholy and the fierce wish of revenge, the wish to see 
his long-missed enemy lying on the floor and begging for his life. The Phantom's 
eyes narrowed. Yes, he wanted to turn the wolf into a whining dog.

Suddenly he looked up. "Keiichi-san. Don't hide like a stalker but come forwards 
if you want to speak to me."

A humble laughter was heard behind him as a small, stocky man appeared. "You 
have obviously not lost your old skills, Miburo", he greeted him in a teasing 
tone.

The Phantom frowned, his eyes darkening in disgust. "Don't call me that! And 
don't waste my time with your usual pleasantries. Tell me what you have found 
out about Saitou's whereabouts."

A small smirk appeared on the other one's face, but did not comment on the 
order. "I am sorry, but it seems that your man has vanished from the face of the 
earth", he told his boss. "He was living under the name 'Fujita Goro,' a cop in 
Tokyo, and Kyoto with his wife for a while, but that's all we could find out."

The Phantom settled back, a satisfied smirk on his cold features. "Good."

"Good?" the other one echoed unbelieving. "What the hell is good about that?!" 

"Ahou." The smirk even widened. "He has disappeared. That means that he tries to 
gain momentum against me. And since the Japanese police already found out about 
our base in Osaka, he's probably already there, waiting like a wolf for his 
prey. Only that it will be another wolf this time who will face him."

Keiichiro raised an eyebrow. "You actually WANT to fight him? Forgive me for my 
rudeness, but this is madness!"

A melancholic smile appeared on the other's delicate features. "You may say so."

Madness as a result of the embrace of love and hatred. 

"Keiichiro-san?"

The other one still stared at him. "Yes?"

"Find out about all men in Saitou's age who have just settled down in Osaka. 
Then let me know."

Keiichiro's eyes widened. "But how the hell am I supposed to..."

"Just find out!" the Phantom snapped. Then he sighed. "And go now. I can't stand 
your sight any longer."

For one moment it seemed like his subordinate still wanted to say something, 
still wanted to bring some sense into his head, but then he bowed in silence and 
disappeared again.

The Phantom settled back, his eyes again fixed on the ocean. Sometimes he 
actually wished that the sea would invade the land and erase every single life 
on it, including his. There was almost nothing so seductive than the idea of 
total destruction to him. Almost.

Again he thought of two cold amber eyes, staring at him in disgust, heard the 
sarcastic yet so silken voice speaking one single word to him. "Ahou."

He closed his eyes in resign. Yes, sometimes love and hatred embraced. Embraced 
until you could not distinguish them anymore from each other. Until they were 
equals.

************************************************************************

"Home sweet home," Misao exclaimed sarcastically after entering the dark house. 
"Have I already mentioned how much this place sickens me?"

Saitou barely raised an eyebrow. "You have hardly been here for two hours."

"Nevertheless, I don't like it!"

The police officer just shrugged his shoulders, obviously not in the mood to 
deal with her childish defiance. With his usual long steps he walked towards the 
lamp to illuminate the house, followed by Misao's slightly narrowed eyes. The 
lithe movements of a predator, those long lean legs and those muscled shoulders, 
she could understand how a woman could fall for this psycho cop...

"My secret police has informed me about our friend's newest movements," he said 
without preamble, bringing her back to reality. "It looks as though he is 
already moving in order to take control over Japan. This time, the matter won't 
be solved without any bloodshed. At least not, if your information is not worth 
something."

She snorted, perhaps a bit too loudly in her embarrassment about her own 
thoughts. "Don't underestimate the Oniwabanshuu."

"I don't", he returned shortly before sitting down on the windows walk, his 
golden eyes glittering in the dim light even more than usual.

Misao swallowed a bit over the sight. She could not quite explain it herself, 
but there was something about Saitou that... 

Fiercely she shook her head.

"Well, I think I bring some interesting news with me", she finally said, finding 
her voice with unsettling breathlessness. "Trust the Oniwabanshuu to find out 
the most remarkable things."

A sarcastic smirk appeared on the Wolf's angular features. "My, aren't we 
arrogant?"

"You might say so now," she returned automatically but without real heart. 
Eyeing him openly, she wondered if he really was as unconcerned as he pretended 
to be or if he was secretly curious about her news. But then curiosity was not a 
character trait of Mibu's Wolf. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. "May I 
ask you a question before I begin my report?"

Flaring up a cigarette, he settled back, his cold eyes still fixed on her. "I 
don't see how I could hinder you from that."

She did not bother to pay attention to his sarcastic tone. "It's about the 
Bakumatsu. 
Why does it still affect people so much, though it's been over for almost 
fifteen years? Why can't they simply forget about the past and begin something 
new? 

Saitou raised an eyebrow, but this time one of surprise, not mockery. For a 
moment he stared at her steadily, with a speculative, thoughtful look, that send 
a shiver down her spine, but then he cleared his throat. "You are probably too 
young to remember the Edo Era very well, Makimachi, so all efforts to explain 
its meaning to you would be futile." He took a deep drag from his cigarette, his 
expression still serious. "It was a different time, not at all compatible to 
your Meiji and for many people it is all they still have. If they would lose 
their connection to the past, they would not have any reason to live on 
in the new time." Again there was this smallest hint of bitterness in his eyes 
which she had already discovered once when she had asked him about his wife. But 
then the impression faded as he continued coldly. "But then life means change. 
People who are too weak to face this truth, don't deserve any better." 

In a flash she saw Aoshi before her inner sight, sitting in self-chosen 
loneliness in his temple, his ice blue eyes seeing the events of the past again 
and again, unable to escape the bitter memory, unable to accept her love... 

"And what happens to the people you consider as too weak?" she asked even 
further, surprising herself with the bitterness of her voice. "You just leave 
them back in their pain and don't look back anymore? That, too, is cruel!"

Saitou smiled coldly as he casually stubbed his cigarette out. "That's the way 
life is." 

"But what about happiness?" Misao flung back, her hands balled into fists. 
"Everybody wants to be happy. So why can't these people just try to find a new 
happiness in their life?!" 

Saitou laughed a mirthless laugh. His golden eyes lied with unnerving intensity 
on her. "How very young you are," he whispered, his low silken voice making her 
frown. Then he shook her head. "Why do you ask anyway?"

"Because this story centers around the past", she returned. "Or, to be more 
accurate, it centers around you."

The wolf's attention sharpened, and during any other moment Misao would have 
smiled in satisfaction at the unaccustomed pleasure of being the focus of the 
psycho cop's interest. But now she only sighed tired and reported him 
Hashimoto's observations in detail.

By the time she was finished Saitou had pushed away from the doorway and was now 
standing before her, his body tense. "An incident in the Boshin Wars, you say?" 
he asked in anticipation. "And this ominous phantom tried to copy me?"

Misao nodded, irritated by the warmth she was experiencing from him being so 
near to her. "That's what Hashimoto-san said. And one can usually trust his 
judgments."

Saitou's golden eyes narrowed. Without any prior warning he suddenly turned on 
his heel and strode for the door. "Don't leave the house until I get back," he 
ordered over his shoulder. 

Then the door was shut.

Misao watched with her mouth open how the ungrateful bastard disappeared. That 
was it? After she had revealed all her information to him, he simply left her 
alone in this damned rat hole?!

With one of her usual over-hysterical battle cries she shot four of her kunais 
at the door which had just closed behind him. "ASSHOLE!" she shouted. "You don't 
know how much I hate you, Saitou Hajime!!!!"

After hitting the floor violently with her fists and cursing him to eternal 
redemption for half an hour, she felt a bit better.

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