Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 1: If The Sky Is Blue, I Can Fly

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

The spy known as Kitsune crept through the darkened streets. Behind him he could hear the shouts of the police as they searched for him. Cursing them softly, he slipped into the alley that opened suddenly to his right. Pausing a moment, he waited for his breathing to return to normal. He could still hear the voices of his pursuers, but they were not coming any closer.

Kitsune stared down the alley. His eyes, unusually keen in the darkness, could not penetrate the blackness that now waited before him. He listened, barely breathing, but heard no sounds other than night insects close at hand and, farther away, the clamor of the searchers.

His hand sought and closed on the hilt of his knife. Drawing a deep breath, he plunged ahead into the darkness. It opened before him and he could make out the walls of the alley, cool and reassuring, muffling his footsteps to outside ears. Thirty paces... He turned onto another alley that appeared on his left. He was walking faster now, almost jogging, as he neared his goal. Then, without warning, the walls surrounding him disappeared.

He was standing on the grounds of a small shrine. A slight, warm breeze was blowing and, far above, thin clouds passed across the pale crescent moon. Kitsune paused for only a moment, absorbing the scene before him. Then he leapt forward, covering the distance to the shrine in mere seconds. It was totally dark within the building, but Kitsune had no need of sight. His hands traced the familiar walls, his steps covered known distances. Suddenly, he knelt. The wooden case materialized under his hands and he inserted a small, brass key in the lock. He felt it turn, and lifted the heavy lid.

The papers he sought lay on top. He snatched them out, stuffing them into his shirt as he gently closed the case. Then he raced back to the entrance of the shrine. To his dismay, the eastern sky was growing pale. He didn't have much time. Even worse, he could see the light of torches approaching down the alley. Racing away from the approaching policemen, he crossed to the opposite side of the enclosure. The eight-foot stone wall proved no obstacle, and Kitsune disappeared over it even as the first pursuers set foot within the courtyard of the shrine.

"I don't want to be here." Sanosuke viewed the crowd that thronged around Yokohama's harbor with suspicion. "I hate crowds. And what's so great about balloons, anyway, Jou-chan?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Enishi's didn't amount to much."

"This is different. Totally different!" Kaoru shook her head to emphasize her point and glared up at Sanosuke. "It's about science, the new era. Can't you ever be interested in something other than fighting?"

Kenshin's gaze traveled from Kaoru's balled fists to Sanosuke's set expression and back again, finally resting on Kaoru's face. "Calm down, calm down." He inserted himself between them, making the little placating gestures he had learned from experience were usually futile. "Don't worry, Sano. Everything will be fine. Yahiko, at least, seems to be having a good time."

Sanosuke stared bleakly a Kenshin's smiling face and knew there was no hope of leaving. He sighed. Somebody owed him a good lunch.

As they walked towards the harbor, the silence was broken only by Sanosuke grinding his teeth. Then they turned a corner, and the street fighter gasped in spite of himself. Down a slight hill by the water a grandstand had been erected and beside it a giant bubble of silk billowed in the wind. Yahiko, who had run ahead of them, came hurrying back and laughed at Sanosuke's expression of wonder. "It's enormous... and still growing!"

"Baka," said Yahiko. "It has to be filled with a lot of gas, or it can't lift off. The man down there said so!" Three pairs of eyes followed Yahiko's pointing hand. They could make out the tall figure of a man on the grandstand with a smaller man beside him.

"The tall one is going to go up in the balloon. He's French and it's such a weird-sounding language. The other one is telling everybody what he is saying." Yahiko began pulling on Kaoru's sleeve. "Come on, hurry up! The balloon is almost full."

The balloon was, indeed, almost full and another, which would take the Frenchman's assistant aloft, was beginning to be filled. Yahiko, his face flushed with excitement, ran back into the crowd at the grandstand, oblivious to Kaoru's calls for him to wait.

"Let him go," Kenshin said. "He's too excited to wait."

"He's not the only one! Come on, Kenshin! I want to be near it when it takes off!" Kenshin looked down into Kaoru's bright eyes. Her enthusiasm was infectious, warming him more than the sunlight on his face. Smiling, he took her hand and began running with her toward the crowd.

Sanosuke watched their retreating backs grimly. "I'm so excited I can't stand it," he said.

Yahiko threaded his way through the crowd of onlookers, inching his way closer to the grandstand. He darted between two middle-aged women, his eyes hardly straying from the giant balloon above him that blocked the late-morning sun, casting a huge, tear-shaped shadow over the crowd. He was so intent on the balloon that he almost ran into the back of a tall man who suddenly moved in front of him, blocking his view. Yahiko was about to squirm past when a sudden apprehensiveness stopped him. His eyes traveled over the tall figure, who was still unaware of his gaze. Blue police uniform, katana with one white-gloved hand resting lightly on the pommel... Saitoh! Yahiko clamped his hand over his mouth, not certain whether he had said the name aloud, and sank backwards into the crowd. From behind the legs of a portly Western gentleman he observed the policeman.

Saitoh was scanning the crowd, looking for someone. Yahiko was sure he would find his target. He chewed his lip nervously. What if Saitoh was looking for Kenshin, who was probably off his guard, focused on the balloon or laughing and joking with Sanosuke and Kaoru? Yahiko shook his head, trying to dispel such paranoid thoughts. How would Saitoh even know they were in Yokohama? And if he wanted to fight with Kenshin again, he knew where to find them in Tokyo.

I should warn Kenshin anyway, Yahiko thought. But I don't want to lose sight of Saitoh. He's up to something, and it's probably not good. Hopefully, he cast around for a sight of Sanosuke's tall figure, but the crowd pressed too tightly around him. Suddenly, Yahiko saw Saitoh stiffen and push forward, as intent as a hawk that has spotted its prey. There was no time to warn the others.

Kitsune knew he was in a dangerous situation. The police had been hard on his trail all morning, and his plan to lose them in the crowd that had gathered to watch the balloon ascension was not proving successful. He was adept at escaping pursuers, but these police were more dogged than any he remembered encountering. He had glimpsed their leader's hard, uncompromising face several times during the morning's hunt, and on each occasion it had filled him with fear and hatred. He would not let himself, or the information he carried, be taken.

Yet that seemed inevitable now. The police leader had spotted him and was approaching slowly and deliberately through the crowd, motioning his men to converge. Kitsune could see two policemen hurrying towards him from the right, three others from the left. He retreated from them, but his escape to the harbor and freedom was blocked by the grandstand. There was nowhere left to go. Already he had pressed forward to the front of the onlookers gathered around the balloon.

The balloon. He glanced up at it, considering the impossible, his hand closing convulsively on the hilt of his dagger. The policemen were almost on top of him, even though their chief had never quickened his pace. He could feel the moment slipping away as the Frenchman stepped into the basket, preparing to begin the ascension. The balloonist's assistant was trying to herd the crowd away from the grandstand. In a few moments his efforts would push Kitsune into the arms of the police.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as something hit the back of his legs. He stumbled to avoid falling and spun around, dagger drawn. A young boy with unruly hair had been pushed against him and was trying to regain his footing before he was stepped on by the crowd that was now surging away from the balloon.

"Gomen..." The boy's voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he noticed the dagger in Kitsune's hand. Before he could pull away, Kitsune had grabbed him and pressed the blade against his throat. Yahiko struggled briefly, but stopped when he felt hot blood trickling down his neck.

"Be still, or I'll slit you open from ear to ear!" Holding the boy against him like a shield, Kitsune pushed his way towards the grandstand. Yahiko cast around wildly, hoping to catch the eye of anyone who would help, but the startled onlookers only backed away from the desperate, knife-wielding man. He caught Saitoh's gaze and saw a brief flicker of recognition in the policeman's eyes. At their leader's signal the policemen dropped back, hovering watchfully but making no move to rush in. Dragging Yahiko with him, Kitsune gained the basket of the balloon.

The Frenchman pulled a pistol but Kitsune struck him in the face, knocking him over the side. It was the only opening Yahiko needed. The moment he felt Kitsune's grip slacken, he pulled away, lunging for freedom. With a snarl, Kitsune grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back. But not before Yahiko had seen a familiar face in the crowd. "Sanosuke!" he screamed, trying in vain to wriggle out of the spy's grip once more.

Sano sensed there was something wrong even before he heard Yahiko's cry. A murmur had passed through the crowd, something about a madman, and he pushed his way forward through the mass of onlookers. Suddenly he burst out into the open in front of the balloon and looked up. His eyes met Yahiko's even as the boy screamed his name.

"What do you think is happening over there?" Kaoru delicately tugged a piece of yakitori off the stick with her teeth, speaking around the mouthful.

"I don't know." Kenshin shielded his eyes with his hand and squinted towards the grandstand. "It looks like there's some kind of delay. Good thing for us, since somebody had to stop and eat." His affectionate gaze rested on Kaoru's face. She had a drop of sauce on her lips, and he wasn't sure whether to tell her or not. He realized he was staring at her mouth, strangely disturbed by the fullness of it, the way it twitched when she smiled up at him. Kenshin cleared his throat and tore his eyes away, focusing on the sky, the balloon, anything but those lips.

"Don't tease me! I have to eat when Sano and Yahiko aren't around, or they'll want some, too, and I can't afford...." She felt him stiffen suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"Is that...? Yahiko!"

"Wait! Kenshin!" He was already disappearing into the crowd. "Wait! What's wrong?" He didn't stop or look back. Still clutching the yakitori in her hand, Kaoru ran after him.

With swift strokes, Kitsune began to cut the ropes that tethered the balloon, binding it to the earth. He was hampered by Yahiko, who leaped on him each time the dagger was removed from his throat. He flung the boy into the bottom of the basket, using the temporary respite to slice through another rope. Slowly, the balloon began to rise. Yahiko struggled up, a bag of sand in his arms. He swung it at his kidnapper, knocking the dagger out of Kitsune's hand and over the side of the basket. With a snarl, Kitsune backhanded him, stunning the boy with the force of the blow. As Yahiko shook his head and tried to force himself to his feet, the spy grabbed the nearest sandbag.

The force of the rising balloon pulled the last restraining rope off its tether. It snaked through the grass and Sanosuke dove on it, wrapping it around his arm. He struggled to his feet, his heels digging into the dirt as his muscles strained with the effort of holding the giant balloon back from the sky. Suddenly he felt someone behind him, someone very strong, adding his efforts to the task. Kenshin. "Where the hell have you been?" he grunted. "Never mind, don't bother explaining. I'm just glad you're here now."

"Don't turn around and change your mind."

Sano would have dropped the rope if it had not been wrapped around his arm so tightly. He spun around, disbelieving, and met Saitoh's thin smile. The policeman's face showed no sign of exertion, although Sano was panting. "We have to pull them in quickly. If he drops the ballast, we won't be able to hold them." Wordlessly, Sano nodded as the other policemen and the balloonist's assistant joined them on the rope. At a sign from Saitoh, they began to slowly draw the balloon back to the earth.

Kitsune couldn't understand why the balloon was falling back until he looked down and saw the men clinging to the rope. He hesitated only a moment, then hurled one of the heavy sandbags at the leader of the police. Drawing his katana in a quick, efficient motion, the policeman sliced through the bag before it struck him. Sand rained down on the men on the rope, coating their hair and stinging their eyes. Kitsune was disappointed he hadn't killed the man, but the distraction was still a success. He threw another bag down, this time aiming at the big man in white who stood in front of the policeman. Although his victim saw it coming, he couldn't untangle his arm from the rope in time to counter the attack. Once again, the policeman had to release his grip on the rope and cut the bag open before it struck its target. The balloon began to rise again, jerking skyward. Kitsune smiled mirthlessly and threw another sandbag over the side.

Sano's arm felt like it was being pulled out of its socket. Despite his best efforts, the balloon was gaining altitude. He tried to dig in his heels, but his foot slipped and he was dragged forward several feet before he could regain his balance. Some of the policemen were abandoning the rope as the bombardment continued. Saitoh remained by his side, but the policeman was spending more time cutting through the heavy missiles than helping Sano anchor the balloon. Even so, Sano was surprised to find himself thinking truly kind thoughts about Saitoh for the first time in his life. Then he felt his feet leave the ground.

Saitoh grabbed the rope and yanked him back with one powerful pull just as the next sandbag fell from the sky. It struck the balloonist's assistant, knocking him unconscious to the ground. The balloon heaved into the sky, pulling Sano and Saitoh with it. Saitoh released the rope and fell back to earth, landing heavily but on his feet. Sano was left dangling beneath the balloon, every second taking him higher and higher above the world.

Kenshin pushed his way through the crowd just as Saitoh dropped back to the ground. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the policeman, then widened in disbelief as he looked up and saw Sano hanging in the air. "What's going on? How could you let this happen?"

"He was a fool to get tangled up." Saitoh brushed his gloved hands together, knocking dirt and sand off the white cloth. He turned to one of the policemen. "Inform the Minister that the spy escaped and is heading north in a balloon with one," he smiled grimly, "possibly two, hostages." He began to walk away, as if the entire affair was at an end, but stopped as a collective gasp went through the crowd.

Sano had untangled his arm and was starting to climb. All eyes watched in horrified fascination as Kitsune's face appeared suddenly at the side of the basket. He no longer had a knife but he shook the rope, trying to dislodge his unwanted guest. He also seemed to be struggling with someone inside the basket that Kenshin couldn't see.

"Who is in the balloon, Saitoh?" The low, tense tone of the question indicated that Kenshin already knew the answer.

"A spy. A very slippery, dangerous man. And your boy."

"What?" Kaoru appeared at Saitoh's elbow, sweaty and disheveled. "Yahiko's up there? And Sano?" She caught her breath as she gazed up at him, now far above their heads. The balloon was rising higher every minute, and still Sano had not made it into the basket. "Kenshin..." she turned to him, a pleading expression in her eyes.

Kenshin's expression was set, his eyes hard as he gazed skyward. He no longer bothered to shield them from the intensity of the sun. "The other balloon. I'm going to take it."

Saitoh looked at him skeptically. "You don't know how to operate it."

"Surely the balloonist, or his assistant..."

"Both badly hurt. You won't make it on your own."

"He won't be on his own," Kaoru interjected.

"Kaoru-dono, no. I can't allow you to..."

Her expression was just as determined as his. "You can't stop me. They're my family, too, you know. The balloon might drift out to sea. I might never see any of you again and I'll wait and wait, never knowing what happened to you. That's what I can't allow, Himura Kenshin!" She spun away from him and ran toward the other balloon, now fully filled. Kenshin hurried after her, glancing up worriedly at Sano's dangling form.

Saitoh followed at a leisurely pace, lighting a cigarette.

Sano looked at the ground beneath his feet and closed his eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. He had made it halfway up the rope, despite the murderous efforts of the madman in the basket. Just a little farther... At least Yahiko was still alive and was helping him. Yahiko. He's the cause of all this! "I'll kill him when I get up there," he muttered. "How does he always get me into these things?" Sano opened his eyes and slowly began to climb again.

Kenshin and Kaoru stood in the basket of the second balloon and looked around, uncertain what to do next. The only mechanism Kenshin could see was a simple wooden toggle attached to a rope that hung above his head. His gaze traced it up to the balloon above them. He relaxed, tension draining from his face as realized its purpose. "Maybe this won't be so dangerous after all, Kaoru-dono. All we have to do is untie the ropes and drop the ballast to rise, then pull this to release the gas when we're ready to come down."

"It sounds so simple," Saitoh commented. He lounged nearby, taking long drags on his cigarette.

"Will you have your men untie the ropes for us? We're in a hurry," Kaoru snapped.

"In a moment."

"Saitoh," Kenshin began dangerously.

"You're always impatient, Battousai. But in this case, I suppose you're right. I would have liked to have finished, though, since I don't know when I will be able to smoke again." He dropped the cigarette into the dirt, crushing it beneath his foot. With swift, fluid movements he covered the distance to the balloon and vaulted lightly into the basket beside them. Kaoru and Kenshin stared at him, but he didn't spare them a glance. "Release the ropes!"

The policemen untied the ropes and the balloon began a wobbly ascent. Kenshin picked up the nearest sandbag and balanced it on the edge of the basket. "Watch out, down there," he called. "Please move back!" The policemen obeyed, moving themselves and the curious onlookers away from the balloon. Kenshin pushed the bag over the side. Kaoru and Saitoh did the same, and slowly the balloon moved away from the earth.

Kaoru watched the familiar world drawing away, the people below losing their distinctiveness. Was that child with the blue hat a girl or a boy? She squinted down, no longer able to answer the question. It was a strange sensation, like being on a mountain that was growing towards the sky. Like being a bird, or a kami. She frowned. Was it really possible that she, Kamiya Kaoru, could fly?

She felt Kenshin's hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Kaoru-dono. Sano will make it. We have to believe in him." But she saw the lines of worry around his mouth as he turned away, lifting another sandbag and dropping it over the side. She turned her gaze to the north, where the other balloon hung in the sky.

"Sano," she whispered.

Author's Notes:

kitsune = fox
kami = god

Balloon notes, etc: At this time, balloons were filled with hydrogen rather than hot air. That's why Saitoh can't smoke - he doesn't want the balloon to go up like the Hindenburg. There's no way to add any gas to the balloon, so once you're up, that's it as far as "fuel" is concerned. I have to thank my cool husband for info about balloons, guns, uniforms, naval ships, etc (all will be revealed in time!) as well as providing Saitoh's first line to Sano when I was tearing my hair trying to figure out what Saitoh would say.

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 2: The World Above

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

Sanosuke gritted his teeth as the ground continued to draw away beneath his feet. He climbed doggedly, ignoring his aching muscles. He had no time to think of them, no time to think of anything except his goal. Until the basket was achieved, there was nothing else.

Except Yahiko. Fear for the boy would not totally leave his mind. He wondered what the kidnapper would do once he reached the top. Hold Yahiko over the side, force a choice? "Release the rope, or I'll drop him." What then, Sano? he asked himself. Do you have the strength to fall? Looking down at the green landscape spread so peacefully beneath him, he couldn't be sure of anything anymore. "Shit." In all his years as a gangster, through all his adventures with Kenshin, he had never felt so totally out of his depth. The land curved away, the blue harbor of Yokohama disappearing behind his right shoulder. He shook his head and concentrated on placing one hand above the other, trying not to think of how a gust of wind or a cramp in his fingers might return him all too quickly to the sunlit world below.

Inside the basket, Yahiko was too busy for such thoughts. He slammed his shoulder against Kitsune's leg, knocking the spy off his feet. Leaning over the side, he used this brief moment of freedom to check on Sano's progress. The street fighter had almost made it to the top. "Hurry! You've got to hurry!" Before Yahiko could offer any more encouragement, he felt Kitsune's hand on the back of his shirt, choking him as he twisted the fabric tightly. Then he was flung down with such force that the wooden ribs binding the wicker together creaked ominously, and for a moment he was sure he would plunge through the bottom of the basket.

Sano looked up just as Yahiko's face disappeared, replaced by Kitsune's. As the spy began shaking the rope again, Sano's fear turned to fury. "What is wrong with you?" he screamed. His voice sounded unbelievably loud in his own ears. Kitsune hesitated, sizing up the man who dangled just out of his reach.

"You want to kill me? Fine! Shake the rope!" Kitsune obliged him by shaking it jarringly, but Sano would not be dislodged. "Harder! You have to do it harder if you want to get rid of me! I'm going to come up there and throw your worthless butt over the side!" Strength surged through his arms, so that he was flying up the rope rather than climbing it. Sano had no more thoughts of falling, no more thoughts of the world below. His eyes burned wildly, searing Kitsune with their intensity.

The spy backed away, suddenly as frightened of this man as he had been of the police leader. To escape with a boy as a hostage was one thing. To be trapped in a balloon with an enraged madman was something he had not counted on at all. If he couldn't make the man fall by force, there was only one other way. Yahiko lay at his feet, watching him. Their eyes met, and the boy's widened as he read Kitsune's intent. He tried to evade Kitsune, but the kidnapper grabbed his leg. Yahiko kicked with all his strength, striking Kitsune full in the chest. The spy fell against the side of the basket. He tried to regain his footing and go for the boy again, but a strong hand closed around his neck. "Too late for you," said a voice in his ear. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."

Kaoru watched breathlessly as Sanosuke climbed into the basket, overpowering Yahiko's kidnapper. He had his hand around the man's neck, and they were struggling, but the sides of the basket obscured her view. The other balloon was flying higher than her own, starting to pull away as it was caught in a brisk stream of air. She strained to catch sight of Yahiko, to make out what was happening.

"Good, Sano!" Kenshin's knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the basket. He stretched up toward the other balloon, as if he could will himself there. Kaoru could feel his fighting spirit charge the air around them, but Kenshin seemed unaware of it as he focused completely on the fight in the other balloon.

"His skills are passable, when only brute strength is required, but they are never good."

"I'd like to see you do as well!"

Saitoh looked at Kaoru appraisingly. "Maybe you will, someday. I can only hope," his gaze shifted from her face to the other balloon, "that he has enough sense to take the man prisoner and land quickly. But that may be asking too much."

"Don't do it," Kenshin whispered.

"Don't do what?" Kaoru glanced at him, taking in his tense expression in an instant. She followed his gaze. Sano had pushed the spy up against the side of the basket and was striking him repeatedly. Already the man was bent backwards, his upper body hanging out of the basket. A few more blows, and he would be over the side.

"Your pity is out of place, Battousai. I would rid the world of Kitsune, if I had his chance."

"I know. That's why I hope Sano chooses differently."

"I should throw you over, see if you can fly! That's what you wanted to do to me, right? That's what you would have done to him, if you'd caught him!" Sano gestured angrily in Yahiko's general direction. He could feel the man trembling beneath his fingers, but he tightened his grip anyway. Kitsune tried to fight back, but his arms were too short for his punches to connect when Sano held him at arm's length. "You're not a man," Sano sneered. "You're a rat. A stinking rat, a coward who hides behind children."

"Hey!" Yahiko pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. "Who are you calling a child?"

"You. You're still a ..." Sano's voice trailed away. The boy's nose was bleeding, his clothes were torn, and he looked like he might be sick at any minute, but his reproachful gaze was steady as he met Sano's eyes. "Oh, shit, Yahiko. How do you get yourself into these things?"

"I dunno." He wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Good idea." Sano shoved Kitsune down into the center of the basket. "Maybe I'll let you live after all. But you'd better tell me something I'd like to hear." He stood above the man, his hands on his hips. "Why'd you kidnap Yahiko? Why'd you try to kill me? If you're another crazy enemy of Kenshin's, I swear I'll..."

Kitsune glared up at him. "I took the boy because I was being chased and had no choice. I tried to kill you," he rubbed his throat, where dark bruises were already beginning to form, "for obvious reasons. I don't know who Kenshin is and I don't care! There. Are you satisfied?"

"Not yet. Why were you being chased? Looking at you," and Sano did so with a critical eye, "I'd say you were a thief, maybe a cheap murderer. Am I right?"

"The man following me is the murderer. And if he catches us he won't just kill me, but you and the boy, too. Maybe you hadn't noticed that we're not alone, even up here in the sky."

"What?" Sano spun around, saw the other balloon for the first time. It was a good distance behind and below them. He strained to see who was in it, but the giant bubble of silk blocked his view. "How do you know who's following us? I can't see..." Before the words were out of Sano's mouth, the basket of the other balloon swung suddenly into view. There was a flash of red hair in the sunlight, and three pale faces turned upwards toward his.

"Kenshin! Hey, Kenshin!" Sano waved his arm frantically, but the basket was already obscured from view again. "Could you tell who was with him, Yahiko?"

"I'm not sure. I think Kaoru and maybe Saitoh, but I could only see them for a second." Yahiko rested his chin on the side of the basket, waiting to catch another glimpse into the other balloon.

"So. You know his real name. I should have known you weren't ordinary from the way you fought. Maybe you're even the bastard's friends." Kitsune launched himself at Sano, but received a punch in the jaw before he even got close. He fell to the bottom of the basket and lay there, panting.

"I'm gonna kill you if you don't stop doing that."

"Better you than Saitoh Hajime!" Kitsune spit the words out like they were poison.

"What's between you and Saitoh? You don't look like somebody he'd bother with. He may be an asshole, but he's not a bully."

"Ah, so you really do know him, then?" Kitsune looked up at Sano speculatively. "But how well? Maybe you think he's a noble policeman. He's not. Even now, he's involved in a plot against the government he claims to serve."

"Nice try, but I don't believe you," Sano said wearily. "He's not the treacherous type. Like I said, he's a jerk and I hate everything he stands for. But he's not some sneaky intriguer."

"You don't think so?" Kitsune sneered. "Not even if it meant his old friends could return to power?" He watched in satisfaction as Sano and Yahiko exchanged worried looks. 'That bothers you, doesn't it? The idea of a new Shinsengumi?"

"What about Kenshin, Sano? If any of this is true..."

"Don't listen to him! He's bullshitting, trying to confuse us. The only thing I care about is getting us back on the ground in one piece." He turned to Kitsune. "You stole this stupid balloon. Do you know how to land it?"

"We have to wait until the gas leaks out and then it will come down on its own. Or you can pull that toggle, in which case all the gas will rush out and we'll fall like a stone. Your choice."

"That's ridiculous," Yahiko said. "I don't believe you! How did the Frenchman plan to get down?"

"Maybe, little boy, he never intended to go this high."

Yahiko looked over the side and felt a wave of nausea rising in his stomach. He had been so busy arguing with Kitsune that he hadn't realized just how far above the world they were. The balloon shook in the current of air, bouncing up suddenly as if it had been jerked by a giant hand. This was too much for Yahiko. As he vomited over the side, he was dimly aware of Sano holding him so he wouldn't fall. The last thing he heard was Kitsune's derisive laughter. Then he ringing in his ears drowned that out, and he sank into darkness.

"Why? Why do they keep going higher instead of coming down?" Kenshin struck his fist against the edge of the basket lightly, punctuating the words.

"It's Kitsune's doing."

"Sano and Yahiko together are surely more than a match for..."

"Physically, yes. But that man isn't called 'The Fox' for nothing." Saitoh sighed and sat down in the center of the basket. "I suppose we'll be up here for a while." He frowned in distaste at the idea.

"Who is this Kitsune?" Kaoru sank down against the side of the basket. Kenshin remained standing, looking out at the other balloon.

"He's a spy, one of the most dangerous men in Japan. Many agents have tried to stop him, they never catch him. Finally, my services were requested." The look in Saitoh's eyes sent a shiver down Kaoru's spine. "The assignment was too interesting to refuse. Kitsune's exploits are legendary in military circles, and he always succeeds. I am curious to meet the man they say has no weaknesses."

"Everyone has weaknesses," Kenshin murmured.

"Oh, I agree with you, Battousai," Saitoh said. "And I intend to discover his before this is all over. But, it is true he has no equal in cunning." He looked up at Kenshin, and there was a glint in his eye. "Kitsune doesn't deceive himself, pretending that his motives are kind and noble. That's why he has been successful for so long."

"This basket is too small, Saitoh, and we're too far above the world," Kenshin said, sitting down heavily beside Kaoru. "Just tell me what he has done."

The policeman shrugged. "Very well. A week ago, Kitsune stole secret plans for the fortress at Shimonoseki. We know he intends to sell them to a foreign power. I'm sure there are several willing to pay handsomely for such information."

"Shimonoseki?" Kenshin frowned. "There is no fortress at Shimonoseki anymore. It was destroyed sixteen or seventeen years ago."

"Bombarded into dust by the Americans and the French. Yes, I know," Saitoh smirked. "But do you really think such an important strait would be left unguarded forever?" He smiled thinly at their expressions. "So you see, the government wants those plans back. And I want to bring Kitsune to justice."

"I just want Yahiko and Sano to be safe," Kaoru said softly.

Yahiko woke with the sun in his eyes. The basket was rocking gently, but the air around him felt still. Sitting up, he wondered how such a thing could be. His thoughts were interrupted by Sano's voice behind him. "You're awake. Good!"

"Sort of." Yahiko stumbled to his feet. It was like trying to stand on the deck of a ship at sea.

"Come here! You have to see this!"

As Yahiko stumbled to Sano's side, he glanced at Kitsune. The kidnapper stood on the other side of the basket, as far away from the street fighter as could be managed. "What is it?" His mouth tasted terrible, and he wondered if there was any water on board.

"Look!"

A city lay beneath them. Rows of houses separated by dusty streets ran down to the waterfront. Yahiko could see shady gardens and busy thoroughfares where tiny figures went back and forth on their daily business. He clutched Sano's arm suddenly. "It's Tokyo! Look! I think that's the dojo!"

"I know. I've been watching it for several minutes now. Unbelievable!" Sano shook his head. He wondered where the fox lady was, if she would look up and see his balloon in the sky. He wished he could show her what Tokyo looked like from the air, watch her initial fear change to delight and wonder. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be able to fly. And yet here he was. It was a heady sensation, being in the realm of the gods, above the world of ordinary men.

"I wish Tsubame-chan could see us," Yahiko said. "And Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan," he added hastily.

Sano laughed. "I'm sure Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan would be very proud of you. When you're not throwing up, at least." He ruffled Yahiko's hair, expecting protests, but the boy's expression was serious.

"Maybe we should try to come down, even if he says we shouldn't." He glanced at the spy. "I have this feeling if we leave Tokyo behind, we might never see any of them again."

Sano was silent for a long moment, looking out over the city that was at once familiar and strange. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. It was the middle of the afternoon, but there was no way of knowing how quickly the gas would leak out. With Tokyo beneath them and the mountains to his left, Sano knew they were flying north. He didn't like the idea of night finding them still aloft, over unknown territory.

"Hey! You!"

Kitsune glared at him. "What?"

"I've decided to try to land this thing."

"Baka! I told you we can't. It doesn't work that way."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not sure I believe you." Sano reached for the toggle that hung over the center of the basket but Kitsune grabbed it first.

"Back off," the spy hissed, "or I'll rip it open and we'll all be dead in seconds. I told you I don't intend to be taken by the police today or any other day."

"I don't give a shit what you want!" Sano considered wresting the toggle from the man, but was deterred by the desperate gleam in Kitsune's eyes.

"You might not care if you die, but what about your precious boy?" Kitsune's fist tightened convulsively. "Are you really so willing to gamble with his life?"

Kaoru took another sip from the bottle. The warmth that started in her cheeks and coursed down to her toes told her it was some kind of alcoholic beverage. Fruity, she decided. And a little sour. There were two other containers of the stuff, but nothing else to drink. Pressing the cork back into the neck of the bottle, she set it aside and turned to Kenshin. "Any luck?"

He sat with his back to her, examining the contents of one of the satchels attached to the other side of the basket. "Just books, so far."

"Books?" She pulled herself to her feet, taking the opportunity to look over the side. They had flown over Tokyo a couple of hours before, but now only a few tiny villages dotted the hilly landscape below. She imagined it must be warm down there on such a sunny day, but the air around her was cool. Strange. She flopped down beside Kenshin. "Anything about flying a balloon?"

"They're probably all about balloons, or navigation, or something useful like that, but I can't read a word." He smiled ruefully as he passed a small, leather-bound volume to her. "Western characters. Not a single one in Japanese."

Kaoru turned the book over in her hands, opening it carefully. "Yahiko said the balloonist was French," she murmured.

"Um. I thought at least there might be some illustrations that would help."

"Did you find any?"

"I found a map of Japan. See?" He took the book from her gently and turned to the back. "The Western writing makes it hard, but he circled Yokohama for us."

Kaoru traced her finger up the page. "Well, if that's Yokohama, this must be Tokyo."

"Yes. I think so." Kenshin glanced at the dark head bent so close to his own. He could feel Kaoru's warm breath against his cheek, her thigh rubbing ever so slightly against his as the basket rocked from side to side.

"I found some food." Saitoh's shadow fell over them. "That is, if you two are hungry."

The sun was lowering in the sky when they finally finished eating. Saitoh had found bread, dried meat, and cheese. Kaoru wrinkled her nose as she took a bite of the smelly stuff. "Are you sure this is food? Why does it have holes in it?"

"It does seem... strong." Kenshin took a swig out of the bottle. Saitoh has refused to drink, so Kenshin claimed his share as well. He wasn't sure about the cheese, but he was definitely developing a taste for this stuff. It wasn't as good as sake, but it had potential. "Wine," he said suddenly.

"Wine?" Kaoru repeated the unfamiliar word, turning it over in her mouth.

"I think that's what this is called." Kenshin shoved the cork back in the bottle and stood up, stretching. He looked out at the other balloon. "They're still up there, and it will be dark soon. This isn't like Sano and Yahiko."

"It's like Kitsune," Saitoh said. "He'll try to evade me any way he can, even using darkness as a shield. He probably yearns for nightfall."

Kitsune finally released the toggle when the first stars grew bright in the night sky. He had been holding Sano at bay for hours, leaving Yahiko nothing to do but explore the contents of the basket. Except for a little food, a bottle of wine, and two wool jackets, the boy found nothing. It was obvious to them the Frenchman had not planned to be aloft very long.

When Kitsune finally sank down in the center of the basket, he received a punch in the jaw that knocked him onto his back. He didn't try to rise. "I should throw you over," Sano growled.

Kitsune smiled painfully. "You should, but you won't."

Sano flung himself to the side to the basket and looked down. The features of the land were quickly being swallowed into night. It would be madness to try to descend now. Cursing, he turned back to Kitsune. "Tomorrow, at first light, I'm going to land this balloon!"

The spy shrugged.

"Keep an eye on him, Yahiko," Sano said softly as he sank down beside the boy. "I don't trust him as far as I could throw him." Which, he reflected, at the moment was a long way, straight down. "One of us has to stay awake at all times."

"I can watch him if you want to get some sleep."

Sano studied Yahiko's face, pale in the darkness. "No, you rest first. I'm not tired yet." As Yahiko curled up in one of the jackets, Sano leaned back against the side of the basket. It squeaked in protest, but supported his weight. "Shit," he said softly. He remembered how invincible he had felt that afternoon, flying over Tokyo. Why did he feel so vulnerable now, like a man in a tiny boat lost at sea? The fears he kept from Yahiko flooded his mind. What if the wind carries us over the ocean during the night? Then Kenshin and Kaoru will die, too. Sano's eyes glowed as fierce resolution stirred in him. I won't let that happen. I'll make sure we all see Tokyo again, no matter what!

"There's only one blanket?" Kaoru looked down in dismay at the piece of brown wool in her hands. The night air was chill, penetrating her bones.

"You use it, Kaoru-dono. I don't need it."

"No. I can't let you be cold."

"It's okay. Really."

"No, it's not!"

"If you two spent as much time searching as bickering, you might have discovered..." Saitoh held up another blanket. Kenshin's sheepish expression changed to surprise as the policeman handed it to him.

"I'm not cold, but I am tired. So be quiet, both of you!" Without another word Saitoh sat down cross-legged, shifting his katana so that it lay across his lap, and closed his eyes.

They gazed at him in wonder as they sank down side by side, wrapping the blankets around themselves. "I still can't understand how all of this is happening," Kaoru whispered. "I just hope Yahiko and Sano are all right."

"We've got to believe in them. That's really all we can do." Kenshin sat with his back against the side of the basket, his chin resting on his knees. He lowered his voice as Saitoh raised his head and lifted an eyebrow warningly. Kenshin stifled an insane desire to laugh. He never thought he would be sleeping under the same roof as Saitoh Hajime, especially if that roof was a billowing canopy of silk. "I just hope we make it through the night without any problems."

"We will," Kaoru said with more conviction than she felt. She had never slept so close to Kenshin before, and she wished suddenly that the second blanket had never been found. She gazed at his peaceful face, feeling disappointed. Here they were together under the stars, yet there might as well have been a wall between them, he was so distant and self-contained. Kaoru sighed, closing her eyes. How was it she could fly through the air like a bird, and yet could not reach Kenshin at all?

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 3: Wind & Fire

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

"What the...?" Sanosuke awoke with a start. The basket of the balloon had struck something with enough force to throw Yahiko into his lap. A moment later, salt water doused his face. "It can't be...!" The balloon suddenly jerked upwards as he struggled to push Yahiko off. He tried to rise, but the basket was pitching so hard it was difficult to keep his footing.

"Throw everything out!" Kitsune yelled, heaving one of the few remaining sandbags over the side. Sano looked down and caught his breath sharply. Through the gray, pre-dawn haze he could see the ocean only a few feet below them.

He grabbed a sandbag and tossed it out. The balloon began to gain altitude as the first rays of the sun reached toward them. The water shimmered, but they were already too high to be touched by the light. "This is exactly what I was afraid of!" He whirled on Kitsune. "How do you feel now, asshole?"

"Calm down." The balloon was flying higher, and Kitsune slumped against the side of the basket, breathing heavily. "We're safe for the moment, at least."

"For the moment? We don't have any more sandbags! If this happens again we'll be swimming."

"I'll think of something."

"That makes me feel so much better..."

Yahiko ignored them both as he watched the sun rise over the ocean. He smiled as the light steadily grew, turning the surface of the water into a burnished shield. The air was full of the scent of the sea, salty and clean. For a moment he felt peaceful, despite the altercation raging behind him. Then he gasped, his smile fading. Dawn presented an empty sky, barren in all directions. Somehow, during the night, they had lost Kenshin.

Movement nearby touched Kenshin's sleeping senses, bringing him instantly to full awareness. Before his eyes were completely open his hand was on the sakabattou, ready to draw.

"Dark dreams, Battousai?" Saitoh stood above him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Not particularly." Kenshin released the sword and rubbed his eyes, looking around. Dawn. "I guess we made it through the night."

"Obviously. I'm not sure about the others, though."

"What do you mean?" He spoke more sharply than he intended, and Kaoru stirred in her sleep. She pulled the blanket around her head, murmuring softly, and burrowed into his shoulder. Moving her aside gently, Kenshin pushed himself to his feet, stumbling a little on cramped legs. "What are you talking about?" He spoke more quietly, but with no less urgency.

"See for yourself." Saitoh gestured around them. "No sign of the other balloon in any direction."

"I suppose Kitsune is happy. For the moment, at least, things seem to be in his favor."

Saitoh scowled but made no reply. Kenshin carefully peeled the blanket off Kaoru's head. "Kaoru-dono! Wake up! It's morning!"

"Leave me alone," came the muffled protest. "It's too early to start Yahiko's practice. Why are you bothering me, Kenshin?"

"Yes, why *are* you bothering her?" Saitoh cocked his head, looking at Kenshin speculatively. "I can think better when the tanuki is quiet. What do you expect her to do if she's awake?"

"Well, I just thought..." Kenshin felt his face reddening. Why had he wanted to wake her? She needed all the sleep she could get. It was purely selfish, this desire for the comfort of her presence, the calming effect of her smile. He shook his head, feeling strangely like a child. "I just thought she should know we've lost Sano's balloon."

Saitoh snorted. "She'll find out soon enough. What I'm worried about is the weather." He looked over the side of the balloon. He could still see land beneath them, but it was partly obscured by dark clouds that swirled by in the unsettled air. The rising sun was wreathed in a haze, and there were even more clouds ahead.

By mid-morning Sano was in a grim mood. Thick clouds were rolling in, enveloping the balloon in a clinging mist. It was impossible to tell if they were still flying over water or if the other balloon was anywhere nearby.

"I always wondered what it would be like to stand on a cloud. I thought they were solid." Yahiko swept his hand through the air, sending swirls of mist from his fingers. "It looks like smoke, but it's damp like fog." He inhaled deeply. "It's weird to be breathing clouds."

"Everything about this is weird." Sano leaned over the side of the basket, straining to see what lay beneath them. Through a break in the clouds he caught a glimpse of water, but there was no way of knowing if there was any land down there as well. He couldn't even tell how high up they were anymore, or judge how fast they were moving. "Shit!"

"By the way, I don't believe what I said yesterday."

"What?"

"About not seeing Tokyo again. I know I said it, and at the time I was kinda worried, but now I know we'll get back there." Yahiko smiled up at Sano. "Kitsune can't be trusted, but one thing he said wasn't a lie: we'll think of some way out of this."

Sano ruffled his hair, and the boy didn't protest. For a moment neither of them spoke, then Sano said, "I wish I knew where we are, but the clouds are getting too thick." A raindrop hit his face, and he flinched as if from a blow. He heard Kitsune curse and knew the spy had been struck as well.

"What is it?"

"Trouble."

"I can't see a thing." Kaoru's voice was plaintive as she tried to pierce the heavy clouds that enveloped them. The basket swung from side to side like a pendulum as it passed through pockets of unstable air. "What are we going to do?"

"I think we should drop down and fly nearer the ground. We might get below these clouds, and if the other balloon has come down, there's a better chance we'll see it."

"I agree," Saitoh said. He grasped the toggle and pulled gingerly. The balloon dropped precipitously, sending Kaoru flying into Kenshin. For a moment she was afraid they would both topple over the side. Kenshin grabbed one of the ropes and clung to it, the tendons in his neck standing out from the strain. Pressed against his chest, Kaoru could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

Saitoh released the toggle. He stood in the center of the balloon with his legs widely braced, white-faced and silent. Kaoru and Kenshin collapsed against the side of the basket, panting, as the balloon stabilized. After a few moments, Kenshin pushed himself to his knees and peered over the side. They were still surrounded by clouds. "I suppose you'd better try again. Maybe a little more gently, this time."

"Now that I know the feel of the toggle, it won't happen again," the policeman said coolly.

Kenshin's response was a raised eyebrow. He seated himself beside Kaoru and, to her surprise, wrapped one arm around her waist and one around the rope behind him. Then he nodded to Saitoh and felt his stomach leap into his throat once more as the balloon plunged downwards.

The rain lashed against Sano's face with such fury that it was hard to see anything. The basket bounced through the air like a rubber ball, threatening to spill them out at any moment. There was no way to fight the storm, and Sano liked opponents he could see, could sum up. Now, huddled against the side of the basket, bracing Yahiko's body with his own, he could only cower like a weakling and wait to die. It was insulting to be beaten this way, to have all his fighting skills count for nothing.

Suddenly he was hurled onto his stomach as a tremendous force shook the basket. It turned on its side, spilling Kitsune out. Yahiko slid toward the edge, grasping in vain for something to stop his fall. His eyes met Sano's for an instant, and the streetfighter was shaken by the quiet acceptance in them, the recognition of the inevitable. He threw himself after Yahiko, but it was too late. Before their hands could connect, the boy disappeared over the side.

Sano lay in the upturned basket, his arm dangling over the edge. He didn't even bother to hang on anymore. There was no point. In a moment he would slide off into nothingness, but it didn't--

"Ow! Ouch!"

"Yahiko!" Sano was suddenly aware that he was no longer moving. The rain and the wind whipped against him, but he was stationary. "Yahiko!"

"Down here!" The boy's voice was faint over the howl of the storm. Sano pushed himself up and looked over the edge. The basket was lodged between the tops of two trees. Yahiko had fallen onto a branch several feet below. He clung there, hugging the trunk.

"All right!" Sano's smile nearly split his face. "You had me worried, Yahiko-chan!"

"Don't call me chan!" The boy grinned up at Sano. "At least we're sorta on the ground now."

"It's still a long way down. I wonder if that jerk fell all the way?" Sano carefully swung a leg over the side of the basket. The movement caused it to shift, dropping several feet before it was caught again in a larger branch.

Yahiko closed his eyes and pressed himself against the trunk as the basket slid past. It came to rest below him. Through the wind, he heard cursing. "Sano?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay. I just got hit in the face with a branch. If you can climb down, you'd better go first."

Yahiko's descent was a controlled fall. He slid down the trunk, using the branches for support. At first he was worried they wouldn't hold his weight, but they became sturdier the further down he went. Once his fingers slipped on the wet wood, but he managed to grab on with his other hand before he fell. He could hear Sanosuke above him, grunting and cursing as he tried to squeeze through the lattice of branches. At last he swung down to the ground, falling to his knees in the mud. He held large globs of it in his fists, almost weeping with happiness.

"A pleasant sensation, isn't it, finally feeling the earth beneath you?"

He looked up into Kitsune's mocking smile.

"When did we start flying over the ocean?" Kenshin stared down with dismay as they came out of the clouds. The wind was gusty, frothing the sea below to white foam. There was no way of knowing how far or in what direction they had traveled the previous night. He thought it was midday, but the sun was sheathed in clouds.

"Have something to eat. You must be hungry." Kaoru held out a piece of bread. He bit into it without tasting it, chewing mechanically.

"How much food is left?"

"A little bread, a little cheese. One and a half bottles of wine." Kaoru offered a piece of bread to Saitoh, who accepted it wordlessly. "Enough for one meal." She took a sip from the open bottle. "I think this just makes me thirstier."

"Maybe." Kenshin opened the other bottle and took a swig. "But it helps in the short term." He offered the bottle to Saitoh. "You haven't had anything to drink in at least a day."

The policeman shook his head. "I haven't had a cigarette in at least a day. That is far more serious."

Kaoru laughed in spite of herself. She handed Saitoh a piece of cheese, wondering why the three of them suddenly seemed so natural together. Here was a man who had tried to kill Kenshin on more than one occasion, and she was being as docile and solicitous as his wife. Strange. What was happening to the old Kamiya Kaoru?

"Battousai! Do you think that could be...?"

"Land!"

"So, you're alive!" Sano and Yahiko faced Kitsune. They were standing in a wood of evergreen trees. Rain dripped on their heads, but the storm was moving away. High above them, the deflated balloon spread across the treetops. The bright colors that had seemed so majestic yesterday looked pathetic now, gaudy and draggled.

"Of course I'm alive," Kitsune snorted. "I told you everything would work out if you did as I said."

"Work out? You call this 'working out'? I oughtta...oh, forget it." Sano leaned back against a tree. Part of him wanted to pound Kitsune into the mud, but being alive made him feel magnanimous. "Just go. I'm tired of your face."

"Where should I go? We may not be in Japan anymore!"

"Not in Japan...?"

"Who knows what sea we flew over, or how fast we were going? We could be in Korea, even China." Kitsune watched their faces change as his words sank in. "We should stick together until we find out. There must be people around here somewhere. And if they prove hostile, well," he shrugged, "I'm not such a bad fighter when I have a knife."

"Yeah, but whose side would you be on?"

"Yours, of course."

Sano snorted. "Of course. Well, come on, then. I can't stop you." Unless I kill you. Sano pushed that tempting thought aside. "What direction?"

"I found a stream over there," Yahiko said, pointing through the trees. "It's not much, but if we follow it, we're bound to come to something eventually."

"Sounds good to me. You first, Yahiko, then you." He gestured to Kitsune. "Remember, I'm going to be behind you, so don't try anything funny."

The afternoon wore on, but there was no sign of Sano's balloon. They had been flying in and out of clouds for hours, scanning the ground and the horizon without success. The land below them was green and rugged, showing little sign of habitation. If the other balloon was down there, it was hidden from them.

The sun went down in a blaze of fire as the hazy sky diffused its light in a hundred directions. Kaoru stared glumly down in the waning light. She held one of the ropes for support as the basket twisted in the wind. In a few more moments it would be too dark to keep searching for the others.

Suddenly she stiffened. There were little points of fire moving on the ground, like lanterns. "Kenshin! There are people down there!"

"Where!" He peered into the growing darkness. "I wonder who they are? I'm sure they've seen us by now." He contemplated them for a moment in silence. Then he frowned, drawing in a deep breath. "What do you smell?"

"Smell? I don't know. Nothing really. Trees, salt..." Her eyes widened.

"Saitoh!" Kenshin spun around, but the policeman was already aware of the danger. The sound of the pounding surf came to them all, faint but ominous. "We can't go back out over the ocean at night. Whoever those people are, we have to land."

"Agreed." Saitoh waited until Kaoru and Kenshin braced themselves, then pulled the toggle.

Nothing happened. For a moment they stared at each other, then Saitoh pulled harder. The toggle came loose in his hand. "Damn," he said mildly.

The surf was closer now, and a brisk wind threatened to pull them out over the waves. In a few minutes it would be too late. Kenshin grabbed the rigging and began to climb.

"Be careful!" Kaoru tried to steady the ropes with her hands, her eyes never leaving him.

He smiled down at her. "Don't worry. I'll be fine!" He pulled himself up, hand over hand. The underside of the balloon was only a few feet above the basket. It should have been an easy climb, but the wind pulled at him relentlessly. Biting his lip in concentration, Kenshin held onto the rope with his left hand and drew his sakabattou. "Brace yourselves!" One swift stroke slit the silk. Gas poured out in his face, and the balloon lurched alarmingly. Kenshin grabbed the rope with both hands to keep from falling, almost dropping the sakabattou. "Look out!" He dropped the sword into the basket. Saitoh caught it with one hand and slipped it through his belt.

The basket pitched wildly in the offshore wind, sending Kaoru to her knees. Even Saitoh was struggling to remain standing. For a brief moment Kenshin believed he could make it down. Then his hands were suddenly empty, the rope torn from his grasp. He tried to catch the side of the basket, but his fists closed on empty air. His eyes met Kaoru's for an instant as he plummeted past her, then he was lost in the darkness.

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 4: Earth & Sea

Disclaimer:A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

Seconds are hours when you are falling, especially when you know you are going to die. For the first few moments of his descent, Kenshin hoped he would fall only a few feet and suddenly find himself safe on the ground. But as he continued to plummet downwards, hope was replaced by an odd sensation of finality, as if his whole life had been a dream and this was reality: a cold beyond cold and the rushing of wind past him in the night.

Even Kaoru seemed remote now. Her pale face and desperate screams were left behind, lost to him. He remembered her expression as his hands slid past the rope, closing on air. She had leapt to her feet and jumped towards him, hanging so far over the side of the basket he was afraid she would fall headfirst after him. But Saitoh, his expression as impassive as ever, held onto her and pulled her back. Strange that he should help me at the end. Strange that death should come like this, and not by his hand.

His adversary was now the earth itself and he had to meet it as he would any other, even if all his skills meant nothing. The force of his fall pushed his chin up and his head back. Now, he strained neck muscles to pull his head down so that he was looking straight towards the ground.

He could see nothing. He imagined there was a rocky beach waiting below, but the darkness hid it from him. Then, suddenly, he caught a flash of white fabric and a shining face turned upwards, framed by long, dark hair. The light the vision radiated impaled him, stopping his breath. Am I dead already, Tomoe? She was standing directly below him, watching him fall with somber eyes, making no effort to move out of his path. All his senses were preternaturally clear, but still he could not tell if she was flesh or a ghost.

She would not move. Kenshin knew she saw him hurtling towards her, yet she stood waiting, making no effort to save herself. "Get out of the way," he screamed. He was almost on top of her when she suddenly flung her arms up in fear, or perhaps in an embrace. But it was too late, just as it had been before. Always too late... He crashed into her light.

When Kenshin fell, time stopped for Kaoru. All she was left with was a last image of his shocked expression, as if he could not believe he had made such a mistake. Then he was gone.

Saitoh pulled her back into the basket, which was listing heavily to the side as the balloon slowly deflated. She struggled against him, straining to catch one more glimpse of Kenshin, but it was no use. The darkness had swallowed him completely. Numbly, she allowed herself to be dragged away from the edge.

Suddenly, shots rang out, whizzing by her head. Kaoru heard a grunt of pain and Saitoh fell heavily against her, knocking her against the side of the basket. It tipped alarmingly, and for a moment her upper body was suspended in the open air. She could see the men on the ground clearly now. Some were holding lanterns and torches, while others raised rifles to their shoulders.

She screamed as a second volley ripped past them and the balloon jerked wildly, tumbling them into the bottom of the basket. Kaoru found herself on top of Saitoh, her face only inches above his. "Get off," he snarled.

"I can't!"

"Dammit, move your hand, girl!"

Kaoru looked down and, even in the darkness, could see the blood seeping through her fingers. "Saitoh..."

Another lurch tore them apart. The men on the ground had seized the long trailing ropes and were pulling hard, tipping the basket onto its side. Kaoru watched as Saitoh slid toward the edge, buffeted by all the loose articles that had accompanied them on their flight: the blanket, the wine bottles, the small, leather books she and Kenshin had pondered over only the day before. They fell over the side into the darkness, but Saitoh grabbed the edge with both hands and managed to hang on.

Kaoru slid towards him, scrambling to brace herself as she grabbed his nearest wrist. The basket lurched again, tore at his grasp. Kaoru bit her lip, but held on.

"You can't hold us both," Saitoh sneered. "You aren't strong enough."

"Shut up!" she screamed at him. "You don't know what I can do! You don't know anything about me! Besides, do you really think it matters if we both go over? Do you really think it makes a difference now?"

"So reckless, all of a sudden? Well, Battousai's death doesn't have that effect on me." He looked down at the men below, shouldering their rifles for the third time. He would be on the ground soon, one way or another. "Get out of the way. I'm coming up."

It took great effort on both their parts to get Saitoh back into the lurching basket. Kaoru's fingers dug deeply into the sleeve of his uniform and, for the first time, she felt the true power of the man. His arm was like steel, harder and more heavily muscled than Kenshin's. Stronger than Kenshin. The thought was a betrayal. She pulled mightily, straining against Saitoh's weight, only dimly aware that her tears were dripping onto his hair, his face.

He gave a tremendous pull, muscles knotting, and managed to drag himself back into the basket. The balloon was falling quickly now, and Kaoru braced herself for the impact she knew was only moments away. Perhaps they would die when they hit the ground, or be shot by the men waiting for them. She considered the possibilities numbly, not caring.

A sudden jolt threw Saitoh on top of her. He lay unmoving, too heavy for her to push aside. As his weight crushed her, darkening her senses, Kaoru wept into his chest. How unfair that she should die in Saitoh's embrace, filled with the sight and smell and feel of him, when she would have given everything to hold Kenshin in her arms one last time.

Kaoru woke to the sound of strange voices. She opened her eyes slowly, blinded by the glare of a lantern held near her face.

She was lying on the beach, a few feet from the deflated balloon. A group of men clustered around her, and she gasped as she focused on their faces. They were foreigners, tall and rough-looking, dressed in the uniforms of sailors. They seemed surprised to be confronted by a woman, and she felt they were discussing her, although she couldn't understand anything they said. "Saitoh?" Her voice sounded thin and tremulous in her own ears.

"Here." Kaoru sat up, wincing at the pain in her back, and looked for the source of the voice. Saitoh lay on his side facing her, his arms bound tightly behind him in spite of the blood stain that darkened his jacket. Several sailors stood above him also, but these held their rifles at the ready. Kaoru caught her breath as she saw them examining Kenshin's sakabattou, passing it back and forth between them. One of the sailors drew Saitoh's katana from its saya, swinging it through the air in clumsy circles. Saitoh's eyes smoldered, but when he spoke, his voice was even, unruffled. "Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm all right." She felt a tear slide down her cheek, and wiped it away absently. "Who are they?"

Saitoh's answer never reached her ears. There was a shout from the surf, and a group of sailors waded out of the water. As they approached she could see the first man was carrying something over his shoulder. When he reached the beach he dropped his burden unceremoniously. In the yellow glow of the lanterns' light, Kaoru caught a glimpse of Kenshin's face, pale and still.

The soldiers were wise not to try to restrain her as she ran to the limp body and threw herself onto it.

Hell was a dark place, illuminated only by flickering firelight. Shadows of samurai leapt on the walls, caught forever in a macabre dance. Kenshin heard their laughter, their screams, their battle-yells. But they had no faces, no features. They did not greet him, or gloat at his arrival. If Jin-eh were among them, or Shishio, they were unrecognizable.

There was one voice that seemed familiar. "Battousai!" He strained towards it, laughing at himself for seeking an ally in a place like this. But his body was too heavy to move, his shadow too weak to join the others. "You are hopeless," the voice taunted him. "The hitokiri would be able to rise. But you! You are as useless dead as you were when you were alive."

"Saitoh?"

"Come and fight with us, Hitokiri Battousai. There are battles here beyond your dreams." The voice was nearer now. Kenshin saw Saitoh standing above him, the tip of his cigarette smoldering in the darkness.

Kenshin tried to move, but it was impossible. His limbs were leaden. "I can't."

Saitoh drew his katana, poised it over Kenshin's chest. "There's a certain satisfaction in being able to do this again and again, forever," he said as he plunged his blade into Kenshin's body. "But it isn't very interesting unless you fight back." He took a long pull on his cigarette.

The pain was intense, as it had been when Shishio stabbed him. Kenshin couldn't breathe. His lungs were filling with blood, his heart pumping madly. "How can I fight you if I'm dead?" he screamed.

Saitoh shrugged. "How, indeed?" He placed his foot against Kenshin's ribcage, and drew the katana out in one swift motion. Blood gurgled in Kenshin's throat, choking off his anguished cry. He rolled onto his side, trying to escape from Saitoh, struggling for air. He felt the steaming liquid pouring out of his mouth, out of his nose, as the shadows swirled around him. He couldn't see Saitoh anymore, couldn't dodge the next thrust that he knew would come at any moment...

"Breathe." The voice that intruded on his senses was quiet, and it was definitely not Saitoh. "Don't move. Just breathe."

He struggled, but gentle hands held him firmly. "Breathe."

He could deny that voice nothing. Raggedly, he drew in a small breath, but it was not enough to keep him from falling into the darkness that stretched before him.

Gentle hands were caressing his face, smoothing his hair in awkward, anxious movements. Kenshin opened his eyes, and shut them immediately as light seared them. The hands stopped abruptly.

"Kaoru...dono...?"

He heard a sob, then he was folded in her arms. "I thought... I thought..."

"I... thought so, too." He lay quietly in her embrace, trying to separate all the sensations buffeting his body. There was pain, deep and insistent, and beyond that the sound of the surf and the smell of salt and of Kaoru's hair. He could tell she was crying, trying ineffectively to hide it from him. "Don't. If I'm not...dead yet," he drew in a shuddering breath, "I won't die."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He smiled weakly. "Did I swallow the whole sea?"

"Most of it." Saitoh's voice was matter-of-fact.

Kenshin started at the sound, jerking up. Pain shot through his body, and he sank down with a groan, wondering how badly he was hurt. He remembered crashing into shallow water, pain shooting up his right leg as it buckled under him. Then he had pitched forward onto a large rock in the surf. If he had not reached out for Tomoe, he knew he would have hit his head against it. "She saved me," he murmured.

"Who?" Kaoru gently brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

Kenshin shook his head weakly. "I thought I saw..." His voice trailed away as his eyes adjusted to the light from the lanterns and he noticed the foreign sailors for the first time. "Who are they?"

"They were on the ground, shooting at us. They've taken your swords, made us prisoners..."

"But they look like--"

"Russians," Saitoh supplied. "The question is: are we in Russia, or are they in Japan?" There was a clipped edge to his voice that did not go unnoticed.

"You've been hurt."

"It's nothing. An inconvenience." Kenshin could hear Saitoh's thin smile. "It was considerate of you to be unconscious for such a long time. It gave me a chance to rest and study our captors. However," Kenshin heard shuffling, and a grunt as Saitoh was pulled to his feet, "I think the respite is over."

A burly sailor appeared above Kenshin and grabbed him by the front of his soaked gi, hauling him to his feet. Searing pain shot through his leg. Kenshin fell to his knees as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. Kaoru pushed the sailor away, heedless of the danger, and knelt beside him. "What is it?"

"My ankle. It may be broken. I can't tell yet." He flexed it experimentally. "No, I can move it a little." He smiled with relief.

Kaoru smiled back, and carefully placed her shoulder under his arm. She straightened, hauling him up with her, ignoring his protests. "I'm too heavy, Kaoru-dono. You can't..."

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," she said with mock severity. "I've been hearing that a lot recently. You can't walk very far on that ankle without help." Kaoru's face was so close Kenshin could see the streaks of her dried tears. "Do you really mind this so much?" she asked quietly, slipping her arm around his waist.

"No." He could feel her whole body against his, searing and comforting him at the same time. "No. I don't mind it at all."

They walked for hours, but made slow progress. Kenshin's shoes had been lost in the ocean, and the rocks on the beach bit painfully through his tabi. His right ankle wouldn't hold his weight at all, and he leaned more and more heavily on Kaoru as the night passed. He couldn't see her face in the darkness, but he could tell she was exhausted. Yet each time he stumbled she caught him, steadied him until he regained his footing. Inwardly, he cursed himself for falling from the balloon in the first place, for being clumsy, for making her worry.

Finally, at sunrise, they were allowed a short break. Kenshin lay with his head in Kaoru's lap, watching the sun come up over the sea. How different this morning was from the previous one. He wondered what had happened to Sano and Yahiko, if they were even still alive. He drew in a deep breath, shuddering at the pain such a simple movement caused. Kaoru looked down at him questioningly, and he forced a smile. There was no need for her to know his ribs were cracked.

The smile softened as he studied Kaoru's face in the growing light. Even dirty, with her hair falling down, she was beautiful. Hers was not the perfect, heart-rending beauty Tomoe had possessed. Yet Kaoru seemed infinitely more lovely in her imperfection. "You're like the sun," he said suddenly, startling them both.

"What?"

"Excuse me," Saitoh said dryly, "could you reach into my pocket and get a cigarette? If you're not too busy."

"Oh. Of course." Kaoru gently moved Kenshin aside and knelt beside Saitoh. He was sitting crosslegged, hands still bound behind his back. She extracted a cigarette from his pocket and a match. They were both a bit bloody, but Saitoh didn't seem to mind. He took a long pull, savoring the smoke.

Kenshin sat up slowly, his eyes traveling over Saitoh's form. "I didn't realize you'd been shot."

Saitoh shrugged. "Worry about yourself." His eyes were hooded, unreadable, but they shifted to Kaoru as he spoke.

Kenshin followed his gaze and felt an ache in his chest that didn't come from his injuries.

Yahiko was hungry, tired, and annoyed. They had followed the stream through the forest for several hours the previous evening, but had not come across any sign of human habitation. Finally, they slept for a few hours under the trees, taking turns watching Kitsune. When dawn broke they began walking again. Eventually, the forest thinned and they could hear, faint and far-off, the sound of waves breaking on rocks. The stream flowed swiftly, rushing down to the sea, and they followed it until they reached the shore.

"Which way?" Sano stood facing the water, looking up and down the beach, his hands in his pockets. "If we follow the coast, maybe we'll find a group of fishermen, or somebody."

"Somebody with food," Yahiko added morosely.

"Left, or right?" Sano considered carefully, all too aware that the wrong choice could cost them their lives. "Damn! I can't see anything worthwhile in either direction."

"You can't? Must have bad eyes," Kitsune sneered.

"What do you mean?"

"Look there. What do you see?"

Sano squinted in the direction Kitsune was pointing. Far down the beach, a piece of red silk billowed up from the rocks, caught in the morning breeze. Without waiting for Kitsune or Yahiko to follow, Sano raced towards it.

As he neared the remains of the balloon he slowed, steeling himself for what he might find. But the basket was empty, the bodies of his friends nowhere to be seen. What he did discover puzzled him, but did not dispel his fears.

There were bullet casings scattered across the sand. Sano knelt, picking several up and examining them thoughtfully. Yahiko appeared behind him, breathing heavily. He started toward the basket, but stopped at a sharp word from Sano. "Don't! You'll mess up the footprints!"

The boy stared in wonder at the scene before him. "Who do you think was here? It looks like an army passed through!"

"I don't know," Sano said grimly. "But whoever they are, they've got Jou-chan and Kenshin." He rattled the casings in his fist, looking down the beach. It was easy to tell which way their friends had been taken. "Well," he said, "I guess there's no decision to make, after all. Come on!" He turned to Kitsune, who had just strolled up. "We're following this trail."

The spy shrugged. "As you wish." He bent and picked up a casing. "Dangerous, though, don't you think?"

"That's why we're going to hurry," Sano said through clenched teeth. He started down the beach at a brisk pace, Yahiko trotting to keep up. Kitsune followed more slowly, turning the casing over in his hand. He smiled. It seemed fortune still favored him, after all.

It was midday when the Russians and their prisoners finally reached their destination. A secluded cove opened before Kaoru's eyes, protected from storms and unwanted eyes by two arms of land. Several small boats were tied to a jetty, and she could make out the shapes of wooden buildings among the trees that bordered the beach. But it was not the sight of this encampment that left her wide-eyed with amazement.

An iron-hulled gunboat was anchored in the bay. It was a long, low sloop with three-masts, and she could clearly make out the cannon ports along its side as it bobbed in the calm waters of the cove. The sun, high in the sky, reflected off the water and dazzled her eyes as she gazed at it.

Kenshin squinted through the glare, but could see no flag flying anywhere on the ship. "We're still in Japan," he said softly in Kaoru's ear.

She turned her head abruptly, their lips almost touching. "How do you know?" Her eyes were wide, her voice eager. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that something was still familiar.

"If we were in Russian waters, they would be flying their colors." He pointed with his left hand. "See? They're lying low, hiding in this cove."

"But what are they doing here? What are they up to?"

Kenshin made no answer, but his expression was troubled.

Their guards led them into the cove. They seemed to be expected, and other sailors hurried out to meet them. Their escort grew larger and larger until they were finally surrounded by fifty sailors, all armed with rifles. The Russians stared at the prisoners, clearly impressed by Saitoh's stiff bearing and police uniform. Some whistled at Kaoru, trying to touch her hair, her kimono. She slapped at their hands and shrank against Kenshin. The look in his eyes was enough to make the sailors to draw back, but their expressions were more of amused condescension than of fear.

Finally, they halted by the jetty. An officer stood before them in a dark blue jacket, gold braid flashing on his sleeves. He nodded to the men and several stepped forward. Hard hands gripped Kaoru's arms, pulling her away from Kenshin. Without her support, he fell to his knees.

Kaoru struggled against her captors, calling out to him. Kenshin tried to rise, to go to her, but the sailors only laughed at his desperate efforts and pushed him onto the ground. He lay there, panting, his whole body trembling with fear and impotent rage.

The sailors hustled Kaoru and Saitoh toward one of the waiting boats, prodding them with the butts of their rifles. Kenshin could only watch, fury running through his veins like liquid fire. Kaoru was being taken from him. Once again, she was being thrown into unknown dangers while he was left behind, helpless. They had almost reached the boat when he launched himself at the Russian officer.

He was surprised that his ankle held his weight. He was surprised that his punch connected, knocking the officer to the ground. He was not surprised by the reprisal. The nearest soldier swung his rifle with lightning speed. Kenshin saw it coming, but was too slow to dodge.

When the rifle struck his side he was enveloped in a wave of pain. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as his ankle buckled. As he fell, blows rained in from all sides. Kenshin tried to avoid them, but there were too many. Through the red veil that covered his eyes he saw Kaoru's face, pale and horrified.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch him destroy himself for your sake?" The contempt in Saitoh's voice was like a slap in the face.

"Kenshin," she breathed. Then Kaoru pulled away from the guards who held her and rushed into the midst of the melee.

At a sign from their officer the sailors gave way before her, and she knelt beside Kenshin. He lay on his stomach, struggling to raise himself onto his elbows. He flinched when she took his face in her hands, lifting it toward her own. His face was battered, his lips swollen, but his expression was defiant. She knew he was ready to start fighting again. Kaoru felt a strange swelling in her chest as she looked down into those eyes, so full of possessive anger. "Stop this!" she said, sternly. "You've got to stop. You can't win this way."

"I can't... let you be taken. Never... again."

Kaoru shook her head. He was startled by the resolution in her eyes, the firmness of her voice. "This isn't Enishi," she said quietly. "This isn't your fight. You always say 'We have to believe in Sano, we have to believe in Yahiko.' This time you have to believe in me."

"But, Kaoru-dono..." Kenshin never completed his protest. Her lips covered his, and she tasted his blood as her own sang in her ears. He was too astonished to pull away or to respond, but Kaoru put all of her heart into that kiss. She pushed aside the thought that they might be killed, that she might never see him again. Time stopped once again, just as it had when Kenshin fell from the balloon. As long as she felt his lips against her own, Kaoru lived in eternity.

Finally she pulled away, drawing in a shuddering breath. The sailors watched them in silence, drawn into the drama unfolding before their eyes. Kenshin's expression was frozen, unreadable. Then he sighed, and the tension drained from his face. He looked like a man defeated, but not broken. "I'll come for you," he whispered. "I promise." His eyes were bright, but not with possessiveness, not with anger. Instead, there was an expression in them Kaoru had never seen before. She knew she wouldn't truly live until she saw it again.

"I'll be waiting." She touched her finger to his lips once, then stood up. Without another word, Kaoru turned and walked to Saitoh, passing through the sailors with her chin held high. She stepped into the boat without assistance, never looking back. The policeman's approval was palpable, and she drew strength from his presence beside her as the boat pushed away from the jetty.

The gunboat seemed large and ominous as the little boat skimmed through the water towards it, but Kaoru knew nothing that awaited them could shake her. All her hopes and fears lay behind her, on a rocky beach.

The sailors bound Kenshin's hands tightly and pulled him to his feet. He put up no resistance, his eyes firmly fixed on Kaoru's slender form. She sat beside Saitoh in the stern of the boat, as stiff and uncompromising as a statue. He wanted to remember everything about her, how her hair whipped in the light breeze as the sailors rowed for the gunboat, how her eyes had flashed, how her lips had felt. He ignored his captors, ignored the pain in his wrists. He needed to remember those moments on the beach, needed to write her words on his heart. You have to believe in me.

As the Russians half-carried, half-dragged him towards the buildings at the edge of the beach, Kenshin filled his mind with thoughts of Kaoru. As they pulled him into a dark, wooden lodge that had been used by local fishermen as a storehouse, he thought only of Kaoru. But when they hung him by his wrists from a large hook in the center of the ceiling, it was impossible to keep his current situation from intruding. The pain in his sides made breathing difficult, and he clenched his teeth, willing himself to stay calm, to concentrate. She was waiting for him. He had promised he would come for her.

"Servant boy!"

Kenshin opened his eyes. A burly young Russian stood facing him, sergeant's stripes on his uniform. With Kenshin hanging from the ceiling, their eyes were almost level. "What did you say?" He couldn't believe one of them spoke Japanese, however poorly.

"You are the spy's servant."

"What?" Kenshin repeated. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, he noticed several Russians clustered nearby, watching expectantly.

"The spy in the uniform. I think you are his servant." The sergeant smiled. "The spy and the woman will be interrogated on the 'Nayezdnik,' but there's no reason we can't do some investigating ourselves, right here." He pulled a flask out of his jacket and took a swig, eyeing Kenshin speculatively. "I bet you know a lot about your master's business."

When Kenshin didn't reply, the Russian shoved the flask back into his jacket and sighed. He drew a revolver from his belt. "I'll teach you a game. Maybe you'll like it." Breaking the revolver open, he dropped a bullet into one of the chambers. "But then again, maybe not." He snapped the revolver shut and gave the cylinder a spin. "It's called roulette," he said, approaching Kenshin slowly. "Have you ever played before?"

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 5: Walking the Third Path

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

"Now, are you going to tell me what you and your companions are up to, or are we going to play?" The sergeant paced in front of Kenshin, brandishing the heavy revolver. "I don't have patience with spies."

"You're mistaken." Kenshin shook his head, his eyes following the Russian's progress back and forth across the floor of the lodge. "We're not spies." An image of Kaoru rose in his mind, but he pushed it aside resolutely. "Why would a woman be with us if we were?"

"Women can be spies. Sometimes they make the best kind."

"We are not spies," Kenshin repeated. His voice was steady, determined, but he felt a hard knot forming in his stomach. The Russian seemed to have answers for everything, and the truth sounded too bizarre to be believed. But still he had to try. Kaoru was waiting for him. "We're ordinary people, and strange as it may seem to you--"

"Ordinary people who were flying through the air in a balloon near our base? Ordinary people with swords?" The sergeant stopped in front of Kenshin, sizing him up. "I'm not a fool. Your eyes betray your words. I don't see an ordinary man in them."

"Do you really see a spy, either?"

For a moment the Russian was at a loss. Then he gave a short laugh. "I see a quick-tongued boy, a little weasel who lives by cunning. But you won't worm your way out of this! You can act brave and lie as much as you want, but your flesh is like anyone else's."

"I know that," Kenshin said quietly, "but I also know the truth, which is more than you do at this moment. We're not--" He was silenced by a stinging slap across the face.

"Enough!" the sergeant barked. "I don't want to hear any more denials, only confessions. Why are you making it so hard on yourself? When your master is interrogated on the 'Nayezdnik' he will tell us everything he knows. Once he confesses, what mercy do you think you will receive for your stubbornness?"

Slowly, deliberately, he cocked the revolver as he moved to Kenshin's side. "I'm giving you a choice." Kenshin felt the cold steel of the barrel against his temple. "Confess you are a spy and tell me what you know, or gamble your life in this game of roulette!"

Kenshin closed his eyes, his mind racing. He knew the Russian was waiting for him to speak but making a false confession, even to buy himself time, was unthinkable. It was not, however, the dishonor of such an action alone that forestalled him.

To confess would be to betray Saitoh and Kaoru. It was impossible to implicate himself without dragging them down as well. As long as he remained silent, they still had a chance to convince their captors of their innocence. Perhaps the officers of the 'Nayezdnik' would be more reasonable than these sailors.

Yet he couldn't afford to die, either. He had made a promise to Kaoru. She was waiting for him.

And she had kissed him.

Kaoru had kissed him. Kenshin swallowed hard at the thought, furious at the tears he suddenly felt behind his eyelids.

He could feel the Russian shift impatiently beside him, but still he could not decide. Even if he was lucky and the firing chamber of the revolver was empty the first time, what of the second? And the third? His death might be delayed, but the end result was certain: if he played against the Russian, he would lose.

A choice that is no choice, where both paths before you lead to defeat and despair... He clenched his fists in frustration, wincing as the rope cut into his wrists. There had to be another way. There was always another way. Opening his eyes he looked up at his hands, red and swollen in their bonds.

And then a small smile, too swift for his captor to notice, flickered across Kenshin's lips.

He was twelve years old when he stumbled upon the secret of the third path, but at the time it meant less to him than a sword. Kenshin carried the katana he had won from Hiko proudly, displaying it to everyone. The real prize seemed far less exciting in comparison.

It was the old samurai at the sake shop, Hara, who made him realize what he had discovered. His eyes lit with pride when Kenshin entered wearing Hiko's katana. But he quickly grew impatient when the boy continued to marvel over his unexpected victory.

"A shiny sword is only outward glory, rich as that may be! Don't you know what all this means?"

"Oro?"

"Himura-san, why do you think you won? Why were you able to break your master's grip and gain the right to carry that sword?"

"Well," the boy admitted, "it wasn't easy for me to think of a plan. Even after you encouraged me, for a long time I still couldn't find a way to win, because Hiko is so strong. I felt..." he paused, searching for the right word, "powerless, helpless against such an opponent. But then..."

"Yes?" Hara was watching him expectantly. "Go on."

"But then," Kenshin cleared his throat, "I remembered a time when I really was powerless, not just thinking I was." He frowned at the memory. "It seemed to me the only way to win when you're weak is to change the rules, to alter the game. So I found a way to fight Hiko that didn't require strength, and that evened the odds between us."

"You discovered the third path," Hara said with satisfaction.

"What?"

"Listen, Himura-san. I'm going to tell you something many men who strut around calling themselves great warriors don't know: a battle is just a series of choices, nothing more. Attack or defend? Retreat or stand your ground? Will you use this assault or that one?" He cast a piercing glance at the boy. "Are you paying attention?"

"Hai!"

"Good. Now, most people accept the choices they are given without question. One option seems better than the other, so they choose it and do the best they can. But sometimes you are given a choice that is no choice, where both paths before you lead to defeat and despair. It is at these moments that a truly great warrior puts aside fear and looks for the third path."

"The third path...?"

Hara nodded. "It is the shadow road, a path that opens in your mind when every other way seems hopeless. If you can find it and tread it steadfastly, it will lead you to victory."

"But what if there is no 'third path'? What if there is nothing to find?"

"There is always another way for those with eyes to see." Hara sighed. "Your master gave you a choice, didn't he? Break his grip by pitting your strength against his, or relinquish the sword. I know Hiko. He expected you to lose the sword and gain some muscle in the process." Hara smiled thinly. "But you, Himura-san, are strangely wise for your years. I suspected that might prove to be the case. You chose to walk the third path, to fight your own way. That is why you won."

"But... surely Hiko knows about this 'third path' thing?"

"Of course he does. Don't be arrogant! He just didn't think you would discover this truth so soon. But he will not underestimate you again, so don't expect another such victory!"

Hara fell silent, studying the boy's thoughtful countenance. When he spoke again it was more gently. "Remember, Himura-san: the scavenger eats the meat it finds in its path, but the hunter seeks his prey. Do not accept the choices others give you. They are traps for the weak-hearted. Walk the third path, even if you are all alone! It is the road to unexpected victory."

"Well? Do you talk or do we play?" The sergeant pressed the barrel of the revolver more firmly against Kenshin's temple.

Kenshin's unwavering gaze was now focused straight ahead. He felt hope stirring deep within him, but he gave no outward sign of its presence. His face was expressionless, a mask of indifference. "I suppose we play. I won't waste any more words on a coward." The words were spoken with icy contempt.

"What?" The Russian grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Kenshin's head back, stretching his throat so that it was impossible to turn his head and see his captor.

Kenshin stared up at the hook he was hanging from, at his swollen hands, at the dusty wooden ceiling above. "Only a coward would kill a man without looking him in the eye."

The Russian released Kenshin's hair abruptly and moved in front of him. Kenshin lowered his head slowly, only to find the sergeant's strong hand at his throat. "You want me to look at you, then? Fine." The hand tightened, cutting off air. Kenshin hung limply, his eyes never leaving the sergeant's face. It was becoming difficult to breathe, but he forced himself to stay still, not to struggle. "I could squeeze the life out of you this way, but it would be too easy. A coward! Arrogant words, but soon you'll be begging for my mercy!"

He released Kenshin's throat and stepped back, considering. One of the other sailors shouted a suggestion that seemed to please him. Moving forward again, the Russian stood directly in front of Kenshin and pressed the revolver against his prisoner's knee. "I've changed my mind about shooting you in the head. Sergei has pointed out that playing for smaller stakes makes the fun last so much longer." He grinned at Kenshin. "Do you know what will happen if there is a bullet in the firing chamber? Your kneecap will shatter into a hundred pieces. You'll be a cripple forever, even if you do decide to start talking and I let you live."

Kenshin made no reply but he watched his captor closely, his breathing shallow and controlled. After a moment the sergeant shrugged. "I guess now we'll find out if you're a lucky man, or just a stupid one." And he pulled the trigger.

When the gun went off there was a deafening explosion, so loud it drowned out every other sound in the lodge, even Kenshin's cry.

"What was that?"

"It sounded like a gunshot." Sanosuke broke into a run, sprinting down the beach with Yahiko at his heels. The street fighter was flying, moving with incredible dexterity along the rocky ground, his white shirt billowing behind him. Then, without warning, he suddenly flung himself down. Yahiko had no time to stop. He fell in a tangle of arms and legs on top of Sano.

"Hey!"

"Shh." The man's hand closed over Yahiko's mouth. "Shut up and look over there."

They had rounded a bend and a cove lay before them. They stared down at the hidden bay, at the iron-hulled sloop that lay in its protected waters. "What the...?" Yahiko's astonished exclamation was muffled by Sano's hand.

"We have to stay down and get to that line of trees, or we'll be seen," Sano hissed. He began crawling up the beach, moving with a stealthy grace. Yahiko followed more clumsily. He looked behind them, then tugged Sano's sleeve.

"Sano?"

"Shh!"

"But..."

"What?" Sano whirled on him. His irritated expression faded as soon as he realized what was bothering the boy, only to be replaced by one of dismay. "Now, where did he go...?"

Sano quickly scanned the beach in all directions, cursing. Kitsune was nowhere to be seen.

Kenshin was surprised there was actually a bullet in the firing chamber of the revolver. It was bad luck, and against the odds.

The instant the Russian's finger tightened on the trigger he gave a battle-yell and kicked with all his strength, sending the revolver flying out of his captor's hand. He pushed off against the sergeant's body with both feet, swinging backwards through the air. The momentum was enough to propel him off the hook as he swung forward once again. He flew through the air, landing on top of his captor.

Even though the Russian's body broke Kenshin's fall, the landing still sent pain coursing through him. He rolled away, trying to protect his cracked ribs, conscious of the other sailors pressing forward. He only had a moment before they would be on top of him. Pushing the pain aside, he tried to stand on his good ankle, but he had no strength in his left leg. He stared down at it, realizing for the first time he had just been shot.

His kick had prevented his knee from being shattered, but the bullet had grazed him as it passed, opening a long gash in his thigh. As he tried to struggle to his feet, he felt one of the sailor's hands close on the front of his gi, lifting him off the ground. Kenshin swung his bound hands, clubbing the Russian on the side of the head. The man toppled, releasing him. The impact of the blow loosened the rope, and Kenshin wriggled his hands free, flinging the knotted coil into the nearest sailor's face.

There was a rifle propped against the wall. Kenshin lunged for it, only to fall jarringly on his stomach when the sailor he had just knocked to the floor grabbed his ankle. He kicked the man in the face, and crawled forward, reaching the rifle just in time.

A blade fell through the air toward his back. Kenshin rolled over, blocking it with the rifle. Another sailor stood above him, his cutlass embedded in the wooden stock. Twisting the rifle, Kenshin wrenched the blade out of the man's hands. He tore it free and cast the gun aside. Slowly, he pushed himself along the floor toward the wall, the cutlass held up protectively.

He had a sword. It was a strange shape and length, but the pommel fit reassuringly into his hand. He was wounded, cornered, exhausted, but he had a blade. Things could definitely be worse.

Gritting his teeth, Kenshin forced himself to his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall, his hand pressed against his thigh. Blood oozed between his fingers. Too much blood. He shook his head to clear it, his eyes narrowing as they focused on the door of the lodge.

Some of his adversaries stood in front of it, blocking his escape. Others clustered around him, just beyond the reach of his blade. They could afford to wait, but he could not. With a yell Kenshin leapt forward, striking the closest man with the flat of his blade. Another sailor rushed in and caught his wrist, hoping to wrest the cutlass from him. He knocked the man aside and lunged for the door on unsteady legs. He had almost reached it when he caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye.

The sergeant was on his feet again, revolver in hand. Kenshin tried to dodge his blow, but it was too late. The gun crashed into his face, knocking him to the floor. He lay there in a heap, gasping. One of the sailors stepped forward and pried the cutlass from his numb fingers.

He could see nothing but a haze of light and shadow, could feel nothing but a sea of pain. For a terrifying moment Kenshin was afraid he had been blinded. Then he began to discern shapes again, could see the sergeant standing above him, his back to the door.

It was only a few short steps away, but it might as well have been miles. As Kenshin watched him, the man began to load the revolver, slowly and deliberately placing a bullet in each chamber. Then he cocked the gun and aimed it at Kenshin's head. "You're clever," the Russian said, "but the game is over and you have lost."

"Nothing... is over." Kenshin tensed, ready to dodge, but he knew his chances were poor. But it was point-blank range and he was moving far too slowly. He wondered if Kaoru would forgive him for breaking his promise, if she would understand how hard he had tried to keep it.

At least she had kissed him.

At least he had that.

The sergeant's finger tightened on the trigger..

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Sano flung the door open, hitting the sergeant in the back and sending him sprawling on top of Kenshin. The street fighter took in the scene at a glance. "You take care of those three, Yahiko," he said, motioning to his right. "I'll get the rest." Sano sprang into action, his fists flying.

The Russians were totally unprepared for this sudden onslaught. Sano and Yahiko fell on them like a wave, sweeping them aside. Kenshin struggled with the sergeant, trying desperately to keep the revolver pointed away from both of them. The man's hand tightened and the gun fired, sending a bullet whizzing past Sano's head.

"Hey, Kenshin!" Sano ducked beneath one of the sailors' punches, landing a solid blow in his opponent's stomach. "What do you think you're doing?" He spun and kicked, sweeping the legs out from under two more.

"I...can't...help...it..." Kenshin grunted. The sergeant was unusually strong. And he was not very sportsmanlike when his game turned against him. Kenshin could see the veins bulging in his forehead as he strove to turn the revolver in Kenshin's direction.

The gun fired again, this time sending a bullet into the floor near Sano's feet. "Can't you take care of one of them, when I've got ten here to deal with?" A sailor grabbed Sano's arm, and the street fighter flung him into the wall. There was a heavy thud and the man's unconscious body slid slowly to the floor.

"No!"

"I've got him," Yahiko yelled. He brought his shinai down sharply on the sergeant's head. The man crumpled on top of Kenshin, the revolver falling out of his hand with a thud.

Sano stepped back as his last opponent went down and surveyed the carnage with a satisfied smile. Brushing his hands together, he turned to Kenshin and Yahiko. "Pretty smooth, huh? I haven't had a workout like that since..." the words trailed away and his smile vanished as he looked at Kenshin. "Shit! You look terrible!" He moved swiftly to his friend's side.

"That's strange," Kenshin said, "I feel better than I have all day." He smiled up at Sano and Yahiko, wincing a little. His eye was beginning to swell shut and he could taste his own blood, but his smile was genuine, joyful. "You're both alive. I could hardly hope for such good luck."

"We thought maybe you were dead, too," Yahiko said. "I'm so glad..." His eyes misted and he looked away.

"Hey!" Sano put his hands on Yahiko's shoulders and propelled the boy in front of him. "Let's get these guys tied up, then talk." He winked at Kenshin as Yahiko brightened and they both set to work.

Kenshin sat quietly, watching them as they efficiently bound and gagged all the sailors. "How did you get here?"

"We found your balloon on the beach," Sano said as he stuffed one of the sailor's handkerchiefs into his mouth. "It wasn't hard to follow your trail."

"Then we heard the gunshot and ran here as quick as we could." Yahiko tied the sergeant's hands tightly behind his back and set to work binding his ankles.

"What happened to Kitsune?" They looked at Kenshin blankly. "The man who took Yahiko prisoner?"

"Oh, him." Sano shrugged. "I guess he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Or maybe now that we've found some people he's decided to try his own luck."

"That's what worries me." Kenshin pressed his hand firmly against the wound on his thigh, but it continued to bleed. He looked down at it with a scowl. "Saitoh said he was a spy, that he stole important military plans. If he sells them to the Russians..."

Sano finished tying the last unconscious sailor and moved back to Kenshin's side, stepping carefully over the bodies that littered the floor. "Forget about him, Kenshin. Where's Jou-chan?"

"She and Saitoh are on the gunboat."

"What?"

Kenshin flinched slightly at the dismay in Yahiko's voice. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Yahiko everything would be fine, that Kaoru was his teacher and he should believe in her. But Sano spoke first.

"We'll get her back. Don't worry. But first," he squatted beside Kenshin and put his friend's arm over his shoulder, "we have to get you fixed up and think of a plan."

Kenshin gritted his teeth as Sano lifted him to his feet. "Is it safe to go outside?"

"No one was around when we came up. I think everybody went back to the ship except these guys."

Light flooded through the open door into the dark room, warming Kenshin's face. He stumbled out into the world like a man emerging from a tomb. A few minutes before the door of the lodge had separated him from everything he cared about. Now it seemed insignificant, a barrier that had only existed in his mind.

He glanced up at Sano, and was surprised to see that his friend's expression was unusually serious as well. "You know, Kenshin," he said, "being this close to you, I mean carrying you and all, makes me realize something about you I hadn't noticed before."

"What's that?'

"You sure could use a bath. I mean, you're really, really filthy. Ouch!"

Yahiko shook his head, smiling, as he trudged ahead of them. He didn't look back.

"There!" Sano lowered Kenshin carefully onto a cot and stepped back, surveying the room. It had probably once been a meeting hall for the fishermen who built the village, but now it was a barracks for the Russian sailors. "Just rest. I'll go look for some food and see if I can find out what's going on."

"Water would be even better."

"There's some of that over here!" Yahiko had been searching for supplies on the far side of the hall. He came toward them between the rows of cots carrying a large bucket. Water slopped over its sides as he walked. "I think it's clean, but it isn't very cool."

"Doesn't matter." Kenshin drank from his cupped hands, not caring that the blood on them tainted the taste. He couldn't remember when he had last had water to drink. He was certain it had been days.

"Are you going to be all right while we look around?"

Kenshin nodded, not even looking up at Sano. He plunged his hands back into the water.

While they were gone, Kenshin stripped off his clothes and washed. He scrubbed both dirt and bruises without pity, assessing the damage his body had suffered with a cool, appraising eye. His ankle was swollen and discolored, his sides ached when he breathed, but the gash in his leg troubled him the most. As soon as he washed away dried blood, it was replaced with fresh. He sighed. Something would have to be done about it.

He wrapped a blanket around his waist when he heard Sano and Yahiko at the door. They barged in without ceremony, each carrying an armload of supplies. Kenshin's greeting froze on his lips as he looked up into their faces. Yahiko was staring at him with dismay. Sano's face had darkened to a dangerous hue, his jaw tight.

"Oro?"

"Shit, Kenshin! If I'd realized they'd beaten you so badly, I'd have--" Sano broke off, fuming.

"What? Oh." Kenshin looked down at his torso, at the mottled bruising that covered his chest and stomach. "The Russians didn't do this."

"Then how--?"

"I fell out of the balloon."

They stared at him, wide-eyed, as he related what had happened. When he finished, Sano laughed. "I think you must be a kami, or maybe an oni, to have survived that! What luck!"

"Maybe," Kenshin said, "but my luck wasn't so good with the Russian sergeant. Only one chance in six that his gun would fire!" He checked the wound on his leg and shook his head. "I still can't get it to stop bleeding."

"I found some medicines while I was looking around." Yahiko opened a large wooden case he had been holding. "Maybe one of these will help."

"Hmm." Kenshin examined its contents carefully, leaning over the side of the cot. "This is what I need." He pulled out silken thread and a long, curved needle. His hand trembled slightly as he held them up. "Sano, will you help me?"

Yahiko watched as Sano threaded the needle wordlessly and passed it back to Kenshin. The street fighter then settled at the end of the cot, bracing Kenshin's leg between his hands.

"Do you want me to do it?" Yahiko's question stopped Kenshin just as he was about to make the first stitch. He looked up at Yahiko, startled. Then he smiled.

"Come here, and I'll show you how." As Yahiko knelt by Kenshin's side, he wished for a moment he hadn't made the offer. He shifted nervously. "Don't worry," Kenshin said, "it isn't hard. Just pass the needle through like this, and be sure not to pull the thread too tightly." He made another stitch, his head bent low in concentration. "If you do, the skin will pucker and it won't heal correctly." He demonstrated with three more stitches, then looked up at Yahiko. "Ready to try?"

Yahiko nodded and took the needle. Kenshin lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "Go ahead," he said gently, sensing the boy's hesitation. "I'll be fine."

Gingerly, Yahiko made the stitch. He glanced nervously at Kenshin, but his patient gave no sign of discomfort except for a slight tightening of his fist. Sighing with relief, Yahiko turned back to his task. Maybe it really wasn't so difficult after all.

"I'm going to go look around again," Sano announced. He released Kenshin and stood up, stretching.

"But you're supposed to be helping me! You can't go!"

"Baka!" Sano brought his hand down lightly on Yahiko's head. "I'm not doing anything except sitting here. He hasn't moved a muscle in that leg." He leaned over Kenshin, grinning. "You're boring."

Kenshin smiled.

Yahiko was not amused. "No! Don't leave me!" He forgot about the thread he was holding and reached out to grab Sano's sleeve.

Kenshin gave a tremendous flinch and bolted up. "Yahiko! Pay attention to what you're doing, please!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just lie down and I won't do it again." He pressed his hands against Kenshin's bruised chest.

"Ouch! Yahiko!"

"Sano!" Yahiko's appeal was tinged with desperation. He turned wide, pleading eyes toward the street fighter.

"No way," Sano laughed. "You two are on your own. Just try not to kill each other before I get back!" And with that he left the room.

He paused on the other side of the door, listening. He could still hear Yahiko apologizing. Then Kenshin's voice broke in, low and reassuring. Sano smiled and stepped out into the sunlight, hands in his pockets.

He was gone for quite a while. When he returned, Kenshin and Yahiko were both asleep. The boy was curled up in the center of one of the cots, his head buried under a pillow. He was snoring softly, but the sound was muffled by the material over his face. Sano's gaze flickered over him, but he quickly turned his attention to Kenshin.

He felt uneasy as he approached his friend's sleeping form. Usually Kenshin would wake up if someone were so near. It was a testament to his current state of exhaustion that he didn't even stir. Looking down into his friend's face, Sano hoped he wasn't developing a fever. Kenshin's breathing was shallow, and there was a tightness around his lips that spoke of pain. Yet when he touched Kenshin's forehead it was cool beneath his fingers. Sano sighed, relieved.

"Kaoru?" Kenshin opened his eyes, bewildered to find himself looking up into Sano's face.

"It's just me. I brought you some food." Sano sat down carefully on the side of the cot. "Don't talk too loud. Yahiko's asleep."

"Oh. Thanks." Kenshin sat up slowly, accepting the bread Sano offered. "Poor Yahiko," he said around a mouthful. "He's exhausted." His gentle, amused gaze rested on the sleeping boy. "I feel sorry for him, having to deal with such a bad patient."

Sano snorted. "You're the one I feel sorry for."

Kenshin shook his head. "Don't. He did a good job, once he calmed down." He felt his leg through the blanket. The wound had been carefully bandaged, and was already less painful. "What time is it?"

"Late afternoon."

Kenshin made no reply but he chewed thoughtfully, his expression suddenly serious.

"You're thinking about Jou-chan, aren't you?"

Kenshin nodded.

"I was wondering when you'd remember her. What's going on between you two, anyway? You usually go crazy when she's in danger."

"I know," Kenshin sighed. "And that's how I feel now, inside. But she told me to believe in her, so that's what I'm trying to do."

Sano stared at his friend. "I can't believe you took her seriously. She probably just said that so you wouldn't worry."

"If you had been there, Sano, if you had seen her... you would have taken her seriously, too." The memory of flashing eyes and warm, demanding lips against his own filled Kenshin's mind.

Sano regarded him skeptically. "So you're not interested in saving her, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"Good! 'Cause I've got a plan that can't fail!" Sano whipped open the bundle he had brought with him and displayed its contents before Kenshin's wondering eyes.

"What in the--?"

Sano was holding up a Russian lieutenant's uniform. Gold braid flashed on the sleeves. Gold epaulets adorned the shoulders.

It looked as if it would fit Sano perfectly.

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 6: Casting the Die

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

Kaoru heard the door slam behind her, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. As heavy footsteps faded away down the corridor she finally allowed herself to give in to the weakness she had felt since parting with Kenshin on the beach. Sinking to her knees, Kaoru rested her forehead against the smooth wood of the door. Tears threatened to overpower her, but they were forced back resolutely. She had to be strong. Kenshin had promised he would come for her.

But what was happening to him? Had she done the right thing to stop him from fighting, or had her interference only made things worse? The questions repeated endlessly in her mind until she felt she would go mad.

Kaoru pushed her hair away from her eyes with a shaking hand, willing herself to stay calm. Saitoh had approved of her actions. That oddly comforting thought was quickly replaced by concern for the policeman. When they arrived on the gunboat, they had been separated immediately. She had been led to the aft of the ship by the lieutenant, but he had been prodded below decks by the sailors.

He was unusually pale when they parted, his jacket caked with blood. Kaoru wondered what circumstances he was in now, and if they were worse than her own. She raised her head abruptly, her eyes widening in shock as she noticed her surroundings for the first time.

Slowly, very slowly, Kaoru pushed herself to her feet.

She had never imagined a cabin such as the one that she now found herself in. Even though the "Nayezdnik" was a vessel of war, there were jewel-hued rugs scattered across the floor. A table rested against one side of the cabin, its rich, dark wood gleaming. Above it, a small painting captured her attention. Kaoru stared at a scene of a hunting dog holding a limp, bleeding dove in its jaws. For a moment she was caught in its spell, the illusion so complete she felt if she reached out and freed the unfortunate bird, it would fly away.

Kaoru flinched, dropping her eyes. When she raised them again, they focused on a bed that stood in the corner, heavy and imposing. She wondered whose room this was, what kind of man would choose to wake every morning to such a painting. It was a painfully strange contrast, the casual viciousness of the dog and the fragile, stained feathers of the dove.

Thin beads of sweat pricked Kaoru's scalp, tracing their way down her neck. The room was silent except for her own tense breathing and the sound of water lapping against the hull of the ship. A beam of light cut across the center of the cabin, glittering off an object on the table. She tore her eyes away from the painting and moved toward it slowly, feeling as if she were swimming through deep water.

It was a photograph. Gently she lifted it, the gilt frame cool and heavy in her hands.

A young Western woman gazed back at Kaoru through the thin window of glass. She was wearing a long dress of fine material and held a small, stringed instrument on her lap with careless ease. A faint smile curved her lips and her eyes sparkled mischievously, as if she were teasing the photographer or sharing a private joke.

"What do you think of her?"

Kaoru started, the picture slipping through her fingers to fall with a clatter onto the table.

The wooden board was suspended from the deck above by four thick chains. It swung gently with the motion of the ship, hanging at a comfortable, waist-high level for the men who stood around it. It was as long as a tall man and as wide as a fat one. Saitoh fit it with no difficulty.

He lay on his back, stripped to the waist, his wrists bound at his sides by leather straps. Sturdy iron pegs attached them to the board. He might have been able to pull them out, but he had no desire to waste his strength. Instead, he contented himself with studying the faces that passed back and forth above his own.

Three sailors who had brought him there lounged against the wall. Bored, restless, they clearly yearned to return above deck.

An older man, his beard gray, his uniform slightly frayed. He held a bottle of clear liquid in one hand and a cloth in the other. The surgeon.

A boy, watching him curiously. The surgeon's assistant, or maybe just a gawker. Saitoh's amber gaze flicked to his face and the boy dropped his eyes nervously, stepping away from the board.

And finally... there was a man standing in the doorway, just out of Saitoh's line of vision. The only sign of his presence was the smell of tobacco and a thin stream of smoke that swirled upwards, reaching across the ceiling like white fingers.

The surgeon leaned across Saitoh, trying to place the cloth over his nose. Saitoh turned away. The surgeon said something to one of the sailors, and Saitoh's head was immediately locked between strong hands. The cloth covered his face, but he refused to breathe the fumes that came from it. After a few moments the surgeon lifted it away. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized his patient was still conscious. Saitoh looked up at him coldly.

"Why do you wish to suffer?" The voice came from the doorway, behind the surgeon. The Japanese was accented, but entirely understandable.

"I wish to remain my own master."

"As you will." A few words were spoken in Russian, and the surgeon put the cloth down, looking skeptical. He felt the wound in Saitoh's shoulder, probing for the bullet. Then he picked up a scalpel.

Saitoh stared up at the chains above him. The links ground together slightly as the surgeon worked, filling the air with a fine dusting of rust. Their creaking punctuated the silence.

The captain of the "Nayezdnik" was a not a small man. He filled the doorway of the cabin both vertically and horizontally, blocking any view Kaoru might have had of the corridor outside. She stared at him in silence, unable to believe his size. Even his beard was huge, a great mass of unruly, graying wire. Shining medals blanketed his chest, but what victories they commemorated she couldn't even begin to guess. He didn't look like a man who could fight with great skill, but his size alone would give him the advantage against many opponents. Even his voice was large, too loud for the modest size of the cabin.

"Well, what do you think of her?"

Slowly, Kaoru realized she understood his words. She picked up the photograph, surprised to find her hands were steady. The young woman smiled up at her sympathetically. "Is...is she your daughter?"

The Russian gave a short, mirthless laugh as he crossed the room to Kaoru's side. "My wife, the Baroness. She fancies herself a musician and fills our house in Sebastopol with her bohemian friends and their peasant songs." He smiled down at Kaoru and she found herself disliking the expression in his eyes. "I prefer to stay at sea."

Kaoru placed the photograph carefully on the table. While doing so, she moved as far away from this strange man as she dared. He continued to watch her, and she felt the blood rising in her cheeks. "I think you are lucky to have such a wife," she ventured. "She seems... good-humored. And gentle."

"Looks are often deceiving. You appear gentle as well, and yet I think you are not." The gaze that probed her face was surprisingly penetrating. "Don't drop your eyes, my dear. It is too late to hide behind a pretense of girlish modesty. But I am forgetting my duties as a host."

The Russian turned away and poured two drinks from a silver flask. "I am the captain of the 'Nayezdnik', Konstantin Petrovich Ivanoff." He bowed slightly, reminding Kaoru of a great tree swaying in the wind. "Everything that concerns my ship concerns me. So if my men tell me a beautiful spy has compromised our mission here, well... I will find out what she knows, one way or another." He held a glass out to Kaoru. "Have some brandy, my dear. You look pale."

Kaoru accepted the glass with a nod, but did not drink from it. "The man who was brought here with me... I must know if he is safe."

The captain raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is he your husband?"

"No."

"Your lover? Or merely an accomplice with information you don't wish divulged?" He studied her expression. "Not your lover, I see, so I must assume the latter. I suppose even adventuresses like yourself have some scruples, after all."

"I don't understand."

"The boy on the beach. My men said you two were very... friendly... when you parted. I thought perhaps both of them enjoyed your favors-" He broke off, looking at her curiously. "Are those real tears, my dear, or did you conjure them for my benefit?"

"Of course they're real!" Kaoru flung the glass at him, wishing she had a more potent weapon. It hit the center of his chest, darkening the front of his splendid uniform. Kaoru stood facing him, panting, heedless of the tears that suddenly spilled from her eyes. It was one thing to lock her away, to leave her in a torment of uncertainty. But to defile that memory, to speak of her feelings for Kenshin with such cheap words...

The captain slowly removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the brandy hanging in droplets from his beard. Only when he had finished and replaced it did he look at her. "I see I was right when I said you weren't gentle." Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist with a speed that surprised her. "I will have to teach you manners."

As he pulled her to him, Kaoru struck out with her other hand. It, too, was caught in a vise-like grip. She struggled to free herself, but the captain's strength and weight were both far greater than her own. Where was Kenshin? He always came for her, rescued her regardless of the danger to himself. When Gohey had held her helpless, like this...

But that was long ago and hundreds of miles away. Another lifetime. Kenshin had tried to save her on the beach, but she had refused his help. He would have preferred to die fighting than to be slowly killed by the sailors, but she had denied him that honorable death. The thought of him suffering made her sick and she hung limply in the Russian's grasp. His insults seemed suddenly insignificant compared to the pain she carried in her heart. "Tell me they are safe," she said quietly. "Just tell me they're safe, and you can think whatever you want of me."

To her surprise her captor's grip loosened slightly, although he still held her firmly. "Tell me what I want to know and I will give you your answer."

"What do you want me to say? That we are spies, when we are not?" Kaoru shook her head wearily. "It's true I'm not gentle. I am not good, and I'm afraid I have betrayed-" the words choked her and for a moment she couldn't speak. "But if I did, it wasn't for my own benefit, but because...because..."

"Because you love that boy? Well, this does make the situation interesting. Your government should be careful to avoid these kinds of entanglements between its agents."

"We aren't spies."

"You know, my dear, something about your face makes me want to believe you. Maybe it's your eyes. They're quite beautiful. Your passion makes me rather jealous of that young man. But, alas, when the "Nayezdnik" is involved-" He was interrupted by a sharp rap at the door. "Yes?"

The lieutenant entered and saluted. His face reddened as he took in the strange scene of his captain holding up the young girl so that her feet barely touched the floor. A few words passed between them and the lieutenant withdrew, glancing surreptitiously at Kaoru as he closed the door.

She looked up fearfully into the captain's face but his expression was unreadable. Slowly, he set her on her feet and released her wrists. "It seems I have a visitor. I must leave you to reflect on your lack of manners and the confession you will make when I return."

"Is it...?" Kaoru blurted out the words in spite of herself.

"No, my dear, it is not your gallant young man. Do not expect him to rescue you. You will not see him again unless you tell me what I want to know." And with that he withdrew, leaving Kaoru in solitude.

Saitoh could pinpoint the exact moment the surgeon found the bullet with his scalpel. It was as if, his shoulder already on fire, someone had stirred the flames with a red-hot poker. He half-expected it to be molten, but the bullet made an entirely solid <...ping...> when the surgeon dropped into the pan his boy held out to receive it. Saitoh felt as if he had been holding his breath for minutes only to suddenly find he was able to breathe again. He exhaled heavily, willing himself to stay in control of his body. But despite his efforts to concentrate the surgeon's face blurred above him, and for a few moments he drifted in a gray sea.

When he came to himself again, the surgeon was binding his shoulder with strips of linen. Saitoh lifted his shoulder slightly to make the task easier but was hampered by his bonds. He scowled down at the leather straps, considering.

"You might pull your left arm free, but not your right." The surgeon finished his task and moved away, reveling the speaker. A lanky young officer lounged in the doorway, his thoughtful gaze resting on Saitoh's face. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from the side of his mouth. The policeman's eyes flicked over him, taking note of the long saber encased in a gleaming steel scabbard that hung at his belt. The Russian held Kenshin's sakabattou in one hand and Saitoh's katana in the other. He smiled thinly as he examined it. "A fine blade, too fine for an ordinary policeman. And this sword with the reverse edge-- very strange. I haven't seen its like before. I'm sure there's a story behind it all." He crossed to Saitoh's side. "I can't wait to hear it."

"I'm afraid you'll have to. I don't care to explain it to you at the moment."

To Saitoh's surprise, the young man did not appear to be angry. "Hmm, bold words under the circumstances. I see you are a blunt man and pain means little to you, but your face tells me the loss of this sword means a great deal. Has it ever been taken from you before? Have you ever been made a captive, found yourself bound and helpless like this?"

"No," Saitoh answered truthfully. "Have you?"

"No. But I am the one who should ask the questions." The young man smiled down at him. "I watched the whole surgery. Do you know what I thought? I thought, 'Dmitri, this man is not like others. He will not succumb to the pressure of your questioning as all normal men do. You must think of something better than the usual methods of interrogation if you want to get him to talk.' What do you think of that?"

"Very little," Saitoh grunted, straining to lift his left wrist. To his annoyance the leather strap held firm.

"You'll make your shoulder bleed again if you do that," the Russian said. "Stop trying to break free for a moment and listen to me. I have a gentleman's proposition for you."

Saitoh met his gaze evenly, but said nothing.

"I believe you are an agent of the Japanese government, not just a simple policeman. I must find out what you know about our mission here and our plans. But unfortunately, you are one of those rare few who will die before they tell what they know. I dislike such wastefulness. So I propose this instead: a game of dice. When I win a toss you must answer one of my questions truthfully, on your honor. But if you win a toss you may ask me a question and I will answer truthfully. What do you say? You have just as much to gain as to lose."

Saitoh was silent for a moment, considering. Then he said, "I will play your game. But when I regain my katana..."

The Russian nodded. "Of course. *If* you regain your sword, we will begin an altogether different kind of game." He called out and two sailors entered, each armed with a revolver. They covered Saitoh as the Russian placed the swords he held against the wall and loosened the straps binding his prisoner's wrists. The policeman sat up slowly, regarding the young man beside him with narrowed eyes. He was as thin and strong as a blade, and moved with the grace of a skilled swordsman. <...Do not underestimate him...> he warned himself.

"Come with me." Tossing Saitoh's jacket to him and taking up the swords again, the young man ushered his prisoner out of the room. They walked down the corridor in silence. The sailors followed, eyeing Saitoh watchfully.

"So the girl was lying to me. She really is an agent of the Japanese government."

"Absolutely, Excellency." Kitsune smiled up at the captain, gauging his response. The Russian seemed almost... disappointed. "They are all highly gifted spies, sent here because the government suspects your ships have been entering these waters. The one pretending to be a policeman is the most dangerous. 'Saitoh the Slasher', he is called. I know of at least three of your countrymen he has killed in the last year."

"Really? But what about the young man and the girl?"

"The red-haired boy? He is the most subtle poisoner working for the Meiji government. He's not a formidable fighter like Saitoh, but still very dangerous. And the 'lovely' young girl? She's just a whore from the docks of Nagasaki." Kitsune smirked, "She's good at playing innocent and getting information out of men, though."

"Hmm..." the captain was silent for a while, considering. Then he took a sip of brandy. "Thank you for this information. You can be sure I will deal with them as they deserve. But you said you had information to sell. What information and at what price?"

Kitsune sensed the lieutenant shifting behind him, but he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the captain's face. "What would you pay for secret plans of the new fortress that will be constructed at Shimonoseki?" He leaned back in his chair, smiling slightly. He found the change in the captain's expression extremely gratifying.

"My government would pay handsomely," Ivanoff admitted. "But the 'Nayezdnik' is here on an altogether different mission and I have no great amount of gold or rubles on board."

"Give me what you have and the head of the agent Saitoh. As long as he breathes, I can't work in Japan."

The captain stared at him in wonder. "That's a barbaric request!"

"It is my price," Kitsune said serenely.

"Where are the plans? Do you have them now?"

"They are safe. When you have brought what valuables you can gather, I will take you to them."

"Where are we?" Saitoh had just won the toss. He leaned lightly on the table with his good arm, his eyes fixed on the young man who stood across from him.

"That's a rather wasteful question, isn't it? Don't you know where your own government sent you?"

"Answer it."

The young man frowned. "The northern coast of Hokkaido." He scooped up the die and tossed them with a quick flick of the wrist. Saitoh frowned at the outcome. "What is your name? Your real name-- no aliases."

"Saitoh Hajime." The Russian wrote it down in a small book. He placed the book on the side of the table and lit a cigarette. "Isn't this more pleasant than most interrogations? Would you care to smoke?"

Wordlessly, Saitoh accepted a cigarette. He took a long pull on it, watching the young man through narrowed eyes. His katana and the sakabattou stood against the opposite wall, behind the Russian. They were alone in the room but he suspected the sailors who had escorted him there were still standing guard just outside.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sound of voices in the corridor. One of the sailors entered and spoke to his captor in a low voice. Saitoh couldn't understand what was being said but he could tell from the man's face that something unexpected had happened. After the sailor had been dismissed, the Russian turned back to Saitoh and scooped up the die. Once again Saitoh made an incorrect call and the toss went to his captor.

"What is your mission?"

"I am following a traitor to our nation. It is my duty to see him brought to justice."

"What has he done?"

"That's another question." Saitoh gestured to the die. "Answers are not free. You must win if you want to know."

The Russian slowly ground out his cigarette. "I don't have to play this game anymore. He has plans to the new Shimonoseki fortress and you want them back. But you're too late." Saitoh said nothing. His gaze, as cool and impassive as ever, didn't stray from his captor's face. "The plans will soon be in our possession. And I regret to inform you Captain Ivanoff purchased them with the promise of your death."

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 7: The Dragon In the Darkness

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

"I'm afraid you won't find anything in there to shoot or stab me with, my dear."

Kaoru whirled around to find Ivanoff watching her from the doorway of the cabin. She had been desperately rummaging through a chest in the corner and had not heard him enter. He crossed the room swiftly and closed the heavy wooden lid with a percussive snap. "It's bad enough to be a spy without behaving like a thief, as well." He looked down at her for a moment in silence then said abruptly, "I've been told you're a whore from Nagasaki. What do you say to that?"

Kaoru shook her head, gazing up at him with wide eyes. "Who...?"

"It doesn't matter. Get up!" When she remained on her knees staring at him, Ivanoff seized her arm and pulled her to her feet. "Sit there!"

Her eyes widened as she realized he was pointing toward the bed. "Sit!"

"No." Kaoru struggled to free herself from Ivanoff's grip. "No. It's not true." She looked around desperately for anything that would hold him off. But Ivanoff had not lied when he had said there was nothing in the cabin for her to fight him with.

He shook her slightly. "For heaven's sake, stop thrashing around and do as I say, girl! I said I was told you're a whore. I didn't say I believed it."

"Then..."

"Sit down," he said firmly. "I want to talk to you about your future. You can still have one, you know, if you're reasonable." He released her and turned away, pouring two drinks out of his silver flask. "This is first-rate brandy . Try to get it in your lovely mouth this time instead of on my uniform."

Kaoru took the proffered glass and perched on the edge of the bed, sipping gingerly. Her heart was still pounding furiously and she watched the captain of the "Nayezdnik" closely, waiting for him to speak. His mood seemed strange and she felt suddenly that her actions in the next few moments might determine not only her own fate, but Kenshin's and Saitoh's as well.

Ivanoff sipped his brandy pensively, staring at the picture of the hunting dog on the wall. Then he said abruptly, "Would you say you're an expert in anything, my dear? Do you think there is anything you understand so well, so intuitively, that it is simply a part of you?"

"I...I don't know."

"Well, I am not a brilliant man, but in two areas I would stake my knowledge against that of any other: the "Nayezdnik" and the fairer sex. My ship I know from bow to stern. There is no part of it that is unfamiliar to me. It is the same with women." His gaze traveled over Kaoru and she flushed. "Don't you wonder how I can speak your language? I have been to Nagasaki many times and there is a lady there who lives by my generosity."

Ivanoff reached out and cupped Kaoru's chin in his large hand. "I can believe you are a dangerous spy, my dear, but I know beyond certainty that you are no whore."

"I'm not a spy, either." Kaoru looked up at him steadily. "If you know women so well, then please believe me and let us go. Let them go. We can do nothing to harm you or this ship."

"I wish it were that simple," Ivanoff sighed, "but it doesn't matter anymore if you are telling the truth or not. Events have taken the decision out of my hands and in any case you already know too much for me to ever allow you to return to your people."

"But... you can't intend to take us back with you? To what? A life in prison?"

"I'm sorry." Ivanoff drained his glass and set it on the table. "I'll have my lieutenant bring your young man to the 'Nayezdnik'. At least you can go together."

"What about the man who was brought on board with me?"

Ivanoff turned at the door. "I'm sorry." And then he was gone.

Kaoru slid off the bed and sank to the floor, deep in thought. At least Kenshin was still alive and she would see him. They would be together, maybe find some way to escape. But Saitoh..

Ivanoff's expression had left no room for doubt: Saitoh wouldn't go with them. Was he already dead, or was there still time to save him from whatever fate the captain had planned? Kaoru dug her fingernails into her palms in exasperation. Time was running out. Looking out of the porthole, she could see the first stars rising in the evening sky.

The porthole. Kaoru stared at it as if for the first time, considering. It was far too small for any of the sailors to fit through, but she might be able to make it. Pushing herself to her feet she hurriedly loosened her kimono, dropping it to the floor. Movement was easier in her undergarments and she crossed the cabin quickly on bare feet.

When she threw open the porthole a clean, salty breeze caressed her cheek. Sticking her head out, she could see the water several feet below. Above her, the hull of the ship sloped up in a steep overhang to the rail and deck above. Gritting her teeth, Kaoru hoisted herself up, pushing her shoulders through the opening. "I'm sorry, Kenshin," she whispered. If it were only my life at stake, I'd wait forever.

"Achoo!"

"Be careful!" Sano caught Kenshin's elbow as he reeled, steadying him. "That's the first time I've ever seen somebody nearly fall down from sneezing."

"Ow...it's not funny, you know. Sneezing hurts." And breathing hurts. And walking hurts. The unspoken list was long. It ran through the back of Kenshin's mind as he made his way through the deserted fishing village with Sano and Yahiko. They were all dressed as sailors, but only Sano was tall enough to wear an officer's uniform. Kenshin guessed that Yahiko wasn't the only one wearing the cabin boy's clothes as he studied his own frayed sleeves and baggy pants. He looked down at the heavy, leather boots on his feet with a mixture of gratitude and annoyance. Reaching just above his ankles, they felt strange and unwieldy but at least afforded some much-needed support.

They made it possible to walk, and walking would bring him to Kaoru. Wait for me. It won't be long now. It was already dusk. By the time their diversion was set, it would be dark enough to attempt the gunboat.

"Are you sure you found gunpowder while you were looking around? Maybe it was just barrels of fish."

"Baka!" Sano glared at Yahiko. "Don't you think I can tell the difference? They've got a whole storehouse full of the stuff. I guess they were stockpiling it. What do you think, Kenshin?"

"I don't know what they planned to do with it, but even if we didn't need a diversion we couldn't just leave it." He frowned. "I hope the explosion doesn't hurt the men tied up back in the lodge."

"It won't. It might wake them up, though." Sano grinned. He looked rather jaunty as the fading light caught the gold braid on his hat and sleeves. "One thing's for sure: it'll empty out that gunboat."

"I hope so." Kenshin didn't relish the thought of meeting heavy resistance when they boarded. Sano and Yahiko were itching for a fight, but he would be happy with an easy rescue. Get Kaoru, get Saitoh, get sakabattou, leave. If only it could be so simple.

"It's in here." They had reached a storage building standing by itself at the edge of the trees. "See for yourself if it's fish, Yahiko." Sano pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Barrels were piled from floor to ceiling in an imposing barricade. The acrid smell in the air left no doubt as to their contents. Kenshin leaned against the doorframe, giving his ankle a rest as he considered the possibilities. "We need a fairly long piece of cloth to use as a fuse. What about your sash?"

"I'm an officer. It's part of my uniform. Hey!"

Sano was no match for Yahiko and Kenshin, and soon the sash was cut and twisted into a serviceable fuse. By the time Yahiko had run back to the barracks and returned with glowing embers from the fire it was fully dark. Regretfully, Sano lit the makeshift fuse and the three of them hurried down the beach to one of the little boats waiting at the jetty.

As Yahiko and Sano rowed for the "Nayedznik," Kenshin watched the little line of fire sputter and writhe in the sand. "Ano, Sano... I'm afraid it's going to go..."

"What?"

"Out." As if he had cast a spell by saying the word, the trail of fire on the sand suddenly vanished. The beach was dark, the storage building a lonely shadow at the edge of the trees.

"Shit! Now what?" Sano stopped rowing and gazed with dismay at the shore.

Kenshin was silent, considering. Then he said, "Sano, is your uniform really complete?"

"Well, it was until you two took my sash..."

"Give me your pistol, then, please. It's in the holster on your belt."

Yahiko stared at Kenshin in wonder as Sano passed him the revolver. Kenshin broke it open with confident ease, satisfying himself that it was loaded. Then he closed it with a brisk snap and cocked it. "Kenshin, you can use a gun?"

"I had a lesson." Kenshin aimed carefully, steadying his grip with his left hand. He had never pulled a trigger before, but he had been around guns enough to know what to expect. Even so, the revolver kicked with surprising force when he fired it.

The storage building disintegrated in a hail of splinters that rained on their heads as they ducked for cover in the bottom of the boat. A giant fireball roared above the trees, only to be followed by a huge cloud of smoke, gray against the dark blue sky. The explosion threw waves against the sides of their little boat, rocking it alarmingly. "Now that," Sano said with satisfaction, "is what I call a diversion."

The explosion shook the "Nayezdnik," tearing at Kaoru's grip on the deck rail. Fearfully, she stared over her shoulder at the conflagration on the beach, uncertain what it meant. As she waited, clinging precariously to the aft of the ship, she heard shouting on deck and the sound of boats being lowered into the water. It seemed the explosion was not part of Ivanoff's plans and that could only mean one thing. Kaoru felt a flush of unfamiliar, strange elation as she watched the smoke curl up into the dark sky.

Biting her lip, she gave a mighty pull and heaved herself up onto the deck. As she crouched beside one of the deck guns, the muscles in her arms trembling with fatigue, she watched boatload after boatload of armed sailors rowing for the beach. The "Nayezdnik" was emptying itself and the deck was teeming with activity, yet from her hiding place Kaoru could see no sign of either Ivanoff or Saitoh.

Saitoh lunged for his katana the moment the explosion shook the "Nayezdnik." The Russian intelligence officer was only a moment behind him, but still too slow. His hand closed on the back of Saitoh's jacket just as the policeman drew his sword with a hiss of steel. The hand instantly released him and Saitoh whirled to see Dmitri slowly backing away to the other side of the gaming table, carefully unsheathing his saber.

They observed each other across polished wood and fading brown leather. "Do you really have the stomach for this game? You didn't stand to lose as much at dice."

"I didn't stand to gain as much, either." Saitoh circled toward the door, driving his adversary around the table. "Your ship is in danger. Go to your captain."

The Russian shook his head. "I will know when he needs me." His saber, sweeping suddenly across the table, missed Saitoh's ear by a fraction. Saitoh drew back a little, recalculating his foe's reach. Dmitri was a tall, lanky young man and the saber was longer than his katana. "Do you really think you can defeat me, wounded and fighting left-handed?"

His answer was a lightning bolt of steel, a searing flash of speed and deadly intent, as Saitoh's gatotsu exploded out of nowhere straight toward his head.

"Can you make it if we help?" Sano's whisper was much too loud. Kenshin winced as he nodded, balancing with difficulty in the small boat. It lay quietly in the shadow of the "Nayezdnik," insignificant beside the iron-hulled gunboat. A minnow next to a shark.

Kenshin knew the value of being overlooked. They had hidden in the bottom of their little boat, motionless and silent in the darkness, as the sailors from the "Nayezdnik" had rowed right past them on their way to the shore. Now, gazing up the rope that Sano had lowered over the side, he marveled at the quietness of the ship. The decks were empty, the sailors probably already landing on the beach. But when they find nothing but their own shipmates tied up in the lodge, they'll be back. Maybe too soon. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped the rope around his arms, bracing for the pain that would come when Sano pulled him up.

He kept his head lowered, his breathing as even as possible as the interminable seconds passed. Sano was raising him gently with a smooth, hand-over-hand motion, but still Kenshin was trembling and breathless by the time he reached the top. Darkness swirled through his mind as Sano lifted him over the rail and he slumped onto the deck, dimly aware of Yahiko's concerned questions.

"Not...so loud. Someone will hear us."

"Someone has heard you." Heavy footsteps halted behind them.

They turned to find themselves looking up the length of Ivanoff's sword.

Dmitri didn't know why he was still alive. He wasn't conscious of having moved quickly enough to avoid his opponent's blade and yet he must have. Saitoh's katana embedded in the wall of the cabin, so close to the Russian's head that several of his hairs were pinned to the worn wood. He flinched away, leaving them behind, and spun to the other side of the table.

Saitoh calmly pulled his katana free and regarded the intelligence officer gravely. The young man was good. His movement was fast, lightning quick. Or was it? Perhaps his gatotsu was slow for some reason. His wound, maybe, or exhaustion slowing him down. He should have killed the man already.

Slowly, Saitoh began circling the table. His opponent had regained his composure and held his ground, not backing away as he had before. In a moment, their blades would join...

There was a muffled sound from the doorway of a handle being turned slowly, stealthily.

Dmitri leapt forward as Saitoh's eyes flicked to the door. Kaoru opened it just in time to see the saber slash against Saitoh's left shoulder. She rushed to his side but he had no need of her help. Although fresh blood darkened the sleeve of his jacket, the policeman regained his balance immediately. "You shouldn't be here."

"But..."

Saitoh didn't look in her direction again. His eyes were firmly fixed on the opponent he held at bay. "The sakabattou is in the corner. Take it. He'll need it."

"But what about you?"

"Take it and go."

Wordlessly, she nodded. Kaoru could feel the Russian's impotent frustration as she slid behind Saitoh to where the sakabattou was still propped against the wall. She felt a surge of strength as she lifted it, hugging it to her. The intelligence officer's movement in her direction was checked by Saitoh, who edged him back with a flick of the katana.

Kaoru regained the doorway. "Saitoh..."

"Go."

"Thank you." She whirled and ran down the corridor.

"Now," Saitoh said, "we can finish this in peace."

"Kenshin!"

Ivanoff spun to see Kaoru, dressed only in her under-kimono, emerge from below deck. It was the only opening Sano needed. He landed a solid punch in Ivanoff's stomach, but to his surprise the big man did not seem much affected. His response, a sweeping, back-handed blow with his left arm, hit Sano squarely in the chest.

The sakabattou, thrown with strength and precision, arched through the air above their heads. Kenshin stumbled to his feet, smiling a little as the sword smacked into the palm of his hand. He drew it almost unconsciously, taking up a defensive stance as Sano fell back in beside him. "Be careful, Kenshin," the street fighter gasped. "He's tough."

To their surprise, the captain of the "Nayezdnik" did not attack immediately. Instead, he turned to Kaoru. Kenshin swallowed hard as he looked at her. She gazed back at him, the color high in her cheeks, folding her arms across her chest in a belated and futile effort to cover herself. He smiled reassuringly. It was a horrible smile, he knew, with his lip split and bloody and his left eye swollen half-shut. Not the way he would have wanted her to see him.

"My dear, I see you have a talent for dramatic entrances! I wasn't expecting you here." He turned back to Kenshin. "This must be the earnest young man on whose behalf I've heard such pretty pleading. Don't scowl at me so darkly, boy. Her current state of attire, charming as it is, is not my doing. She knows I am a gentleman." Ivanoff looked him over with his piercing, critical eye. "Kenshin, is it? I hope you're worthy of her."

"I'm not. But I will die before I leave her with you."

"So fierce! Be reasonable, boy. You can barely stand. Your diversion-- wasteful but, I must admit, clever-- will not avail you. Even now, my men are returning. Can't you hear them?"

"It's true!" Yahiko exclaimed. "I can see the lanterns on the boats coming back. Kenshin, what are we going to do?"

The others listened. The sound of oars slapping the water and the shouts of the sailors came to them, nearer and nearer, across the water.

"Surrender your sword and you have my word that no harm will come to you or her."

"He plans to take us back to Russia!" Kaoru stepped forward, but Ivanoff brushed her back with a sweep of his sword.

"Sano! Yahiko! Try to keep the sailors from boarding." They nodded, rushing to the side of the ship. "I'm sorry," Kenshin braced himself as he faced Ivanoff. "I can't surrender. This is our country, where we belong. We have to defend it and ourselves."

"Why are you so anxious to die?" Ivanoff asked wearily. "Forgive me, my dear. I had hoped to spare you any unpleasantness." He lunged forward with surprising speed, his blade thrusting straight towards Kenshin's chest.

Kenshin whirled to the side, avoiding the blade but wrenching his injured ankle. His groan, quickly stifled, was nonetheless audible to everyone.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru rushed forward again, only to be pushed aside by Ivanoff.

The Russian waited, his sword at the ready, as Kenshin regained his balance. "Do you actually know how to use a sword, boy? Do you have any idea what you are doing?" He thrust again and this time Kenshin blocked the blow. They stove against each other, blades locked. "Well, I suppose you aren't a total novice," Ivanoff admitted, "but you aren't strong enough to defeat me." He struck Kenshin in the chest with his left hand, pushing him away. Their swords disengaged in a scrape of steel and Kenshin stumbled back, panting.

His sides ached mercilessly and he leaned heavily on his saya, struggling for breath. The Russian was strong and faster than he looked: a formidable opponent. But he was not invincible. That was what rankled. If he were fighting well, Ivanoff would already be sprawled on the deck, unconscious. Kenshin wished fervently for the speed and strength that would allow him to use Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu properly, but his ankle barely supported his weight and he was worn by fatigue and pain.

"Kenshin! They're almost here!" A gunshot from one of the boats whizzed past Sano's head and he ducked, pulling Yahiko down beside him.

Kenshin leapt forward, ducking under Ivanoff's blade as a loud boom split the air. He saw the Russian stumble backwards and fall, and then he was thrown to the deck as well as a shell struck the water off the port bow. Kenshin pushed himself up just as Ivanoff struggled to his feet, his face pale. "Damn. It's the Hiryu again!" The captain sheathed his sword and turned away, hurrying toward the bridge.

Kenshin looked out over the dark water. He could barely discern the long, low shape of the Japanese corvette as it rounded the bend of the cove. Then he felt someone beside him and he gazed down into Kaoru's beautiful, anxious face. "Kenshin..."

He hugged her to him tightly, not caring about the pain. Over her shoulder, he watched with unflinching eyes as the Hiryu fired again, straight towards them.

Those Days Are Written On My Heart
Part 8: Gray Sea, Endless Sky

Disclaimer: A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro Watsuki

Saitoh struggled to his feet as the second shell hit the water off the starboard bow, closer than the first. Dmitri stumbled toward the door but Saitoh tripped him with his saya, knocking him to the floor. "I don't think we're finished."

The intelligence officer struck Saitoh's katana aside, using the opening to jump to his feet. They circled the table, eyeing each other warily. Dmitri had no idea how the wounded policeman had attacked him with such speed and ferocity but he knew he couldn't allow it to happen again. There were only so many times one could dodge a thrust like that. But if he forced his adversary to stay on the defensive...

He lunged, gratified that his opponent had to brace himself to parry the blow. Yet there was a strange, still expression in Saitoh's eyes that made Dmitri uneasy. It was as if, even fighting for his life, the fire in the man's blood didn't stir the cold, silent surface of his features.

Fresh blood from the wound Dmitri had given him darkened the policeman's jacket, a testament to his opponent's mortality. The man was not superhuman. He *couldn't* be superhuman. It was only a matter of time. He slashed with his saber, intent on striking his adversary on the right shoulder. A blow to the gunshot wound would surely bring the man down.

Death might have caught a less talented man by surprise, but Dmitri could see it coming before it happened. Only an instant into his attack but still too late to turn back, he realized his awful mistake.

His opponent was not going to defend himself against the blow. Instead of giving ground as he had before, Saitoh lunged directly into Dmitri's sword. His gatotsu engaged the Russian's saber, wrenching it out of his hand, and continued unchecked toward the young man's heart.

Dmitri didn't scream. There was no air left in his lungs for such a luxury. Saitoh's katana pinned him, helpless, to the wall of the cabin. He waited, eyes closed, for the last beat of his heart.

It didn't come. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The policeman was gazing at him impassively, his hand still resting on the pommel of his katana. Turning his head, Dmitri shuddered at the blade, slick with blood, protruding from his shoulder. He drew in a slow breath.

"You are the only man who has ever held me prisoner. For that, I could have killed you. But," something stirred in the amber depths of the policeman's eyes, "my purpose is to destroy evil. I know of no evil you have done to me or any other." He wrenched the sword free and Dmitri cried out, falling to his knees. Clasping his hand to his shoulder, he watched the policeman flick the blood off his katana and sheath it.

Saitoh paused at the door for only a moment. He didn't look back. "You'd better find that surgeon quickly."

Yahiko whirled his shinai, knocking the closest sailor over the side of the ship. The man struck one of his comrades as he fell and both of them hit the water below with an emphatic splash. Beside him, Sano punched another sailor in the face, sending him to join them in the sea. Yet even though he had the upper ground, Sano knew his position was untenable. He and Yahiko couldn't be everywhere at once and already more of the sailors were swarming over the rail. "Kenshin!"

"You've got to hold them!" Sano whirled to see Kenshin limping toward the bridge, away from the fight on deck.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I can't let him--" The rest of Kenshin's sentence was drowned out as one of the stanchions on the forward deck slowly began to turn and a heavy clanking reverberated underneath their feet.

"Damn!"

"What's going on?" Yahiko was engaged in a tug of war with a sailor who had been quick enough to grab the end of his shinai. Sano pried the man's fingers loose and he teetered for a moment before falling over backwards into the water.

"They're hauling in the anchor!" Sano had to shout to make himself heard over the din. He reeled as someone struck him from behind and, whirling with a growl, he flattened his assailant. Leaning for a moment on the rail, he gazed across the deck at Kaoru.

Her arm was around Kenshin's waist, supporting him, but her anxious eyes followed her friends' desperate fight. Even in the dim light, Sano could read the indecision in them. Then, to his complete amazement, Kenshin gently pushed her aside. Kaoru hesitated for only a moment, watching him as he resumed his slow progress toward the bridge. Then she picked up one of the fallen sailor's cutlasses and rushed to Yahiko's aid.

"What?" She met Sano's stare defiantly. Kaoru swung the sheathed weapon in a wide arc, sweeping both uncertainty and another sailor away with the ferocity of her blow.

The deck pulsed beneath Kenshin's feet as the "Nayezdnik" slowly began to pull through the water. He hurried toward the bridge in a limping trot, his teeth firmly set. No time... no time... The thought was an endless refrain. His body was heavy with pain, his mind filled with one purpose only, the clanking of the anchor chain drowning out all other sound.

Such single-minded carelessness would have meant death for the hitokiri. Kenshin never sensed the blow before it struck him, driving him onto the deck even as he reached the bottom of the stairs to the bridge. His assailant was on him in an instant, pinning him with a cruel viciousness born of desperation. Kenshin cried out as a knee dug into his back, compressing his battered ribs. The anchor chain ground to a halt and suddenly every other sound reasserted itself: cries from the fight on the forward deck and the deep pulsing of the ship's engines counterpointed his own ragged breathing. "I don't know who you are," a voice hissed in his ear, "but you're not going to stop this ship."

Kitsune. That voice could only belong to the spy. Kenshin relaxed in his captor's hold, struggling to breathe. "Saitoh..." His voice was little more than a whisper.

"What? What of him?"

"About you. Saitoh says..." he trailed off weakly.

Kitsune leaned forward, lifting his knee off Kenshin's back although he still held his arms firmly. "What?"

Before Kitsune could blink, his wrists were caught in the tightest grip he had ever felt. He looked down into cold, clear eyes. He had no idea how the man had broken his hold so quickly and replaced it with his own. The spy struggled to pull free, to no avail. "Saitoh was right. You do have weaknesses, after all." Slowly, inexorably, Kenshin sat up, pushing Kitsune onto the deck.

"Let me go, you little bastard!"

Kenshin started to shake his head but stopped when he felt steel at his throat. "Let him go."

Ivanoff stood on the stairs above him. "I would hate to kill such a tenacious boy." His sword bit into Kenshin's flesh, drawing blood. "I said, 'Let him go.'"

Reluctantly, Kenshin released Kitsune. The spy leapt up, knocking Kenshin aside with a furious, backhanded blow. He turned to run but didn't get very far before Ivanoff grabbed him by the back of his shirt and flung him against the wall of the deck house. "Where are the plans you promised?"

"I told you, Excellency. They are hidden in a safe place on shore."

"Where?"

"I would have taken you to them, but now...." Kitsune shrugged. "You should forget about them and try to save yourself."

"I don't have to choose between the two." With a tremendous heave, Ivanoff flung Kitsune through the open door of the ward room. He closed it with a clang, locking the spy inside. "Now," he said, turning back to Kenshin, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing." The cold voice came from the hatch to the lower deck. Kenshin had never been so glad to hear it.

Slowly, Saitoh ascended the companionway, his katana drawn. "Surrender your ship."

"Surrender the 'Nayezdnik'? Are you insane?"

"Would you prefer to die?" Saitoh's gaze remained fixed on the Russian captain as he slid into the gatotsu stance.

Kenshin pushed himself to his feet, surveying the dark deck worriedly. "Saitoh!" There was movement at the corner of his vision and his quick ears, alert now, caught the unmistakable click of a round being chambered.

"Don't interfere."

"Saitoh!" Kenshin launched himself at the policeman. His sakabattou turned Saitoh's katana aside as they crashed onto the deck under a hail of bullets. One of the sailors had brought a Gatlin gun to his captain's defense but it was a short-lived act of heroism. The burst of fire ceased as quickly as it had erupted, Ivanoff's savior stopped short by a well-placed blow from Yahiko's shinai.

"Oro?"

The wool of Saitoh's jacket was rough beneath Kenshin's cheek. He realized, eyes widening, that his body pinned the policeman's to the deck. He could hear Saitoh's heartbeat pounding in his ear, could feel the tenseness of the policeman's arm beneath his fingers. The hand that still gripped the katana tightly was white-knuckled. "Battousai," Saitoh said into Kenshin's hair, "were you hit?"

"No."

"Then get off of me!" He knocked Kenshin aside with a snarl, rolling to his feet. "Because of you--"

"Saitoh--"

"Because of you," Saitoh lifted Kenshin by the front of his shirt, "the captain escaped. We won't be able to stop this ship."

"We don't have to."

"What?" Saitoh shook Kenshin hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

"Will you please put me down and listen? Thank you. The captain doesn't have the Shimonoseki plans. I was here when Kitsune told him they were still hidden somewhere on shore. We don't need to stop the ship. We need to get off before it's too late!"

"Kitsune." Saitoh turned abruptly and threw back the latch on the ward room door. He disappeared into the darkness of the deck house. Kenshin waited, leaning on his saya. He expected to hear a scuffle inside, to see Saitoh come out at any moment dragging the spy by his collar. Instead, Saitoh emerged alone after a few moments, his features impassive.

"He's gone."

Saitoh nodded.

"How? There are no openings..."

"No openings that you or I see. Kitsune perceives the world differently." Without another word, Saitoh strode away, knocking unfortunate sailors out of his path with a flick of his fist.

Kenshin followed slowly, picking his limping path carefully through the human debris Saitoh left in his wake.

The little boat should have held five people easily, Kaoru mused, but it seemed unbearably tiny with Sano and Saitoh occupying the same space. They sat as far from each other as possible, the policeman silent and thoughtful, the street fighter already bragging about their adventures with an ease usually reserved for the jug of sake at journey's end.

Journey's end. Kaoru studied Kenshin's face, pale in the darkness. His eyes were hooded, fixed on the approaching corvette, and she wondered if the expression she had seen in them on the beach was only imagined. Her thoughts were interrupted when Yahiko jumped to his feet, waving his arms and shouting for the Hiryu to notice them. There was no need for such anxiety. The Hiryu's searchlight swept the water, blinding them with a sudden glare as it fixed on their little boat. If their rescuers had any doubt as to whether they were friends or foes, they were dispelled when Sano stripped off his officer's jacket and hurled it without ceremony into the sea.

Kenshin removed his shirt more slowly, fumbling a little with the unfamiliar, small buttons. "What are you doing?" Kaoru gasped as dark bruises were revealed. "Kenshin..."

"I don't want them to see you like that." The words were spoken softly, with no hint of censure, but Kaoru flushed as she remembered her own state of undress. Kenshin held the shirt out to her, pressing it into her hands. "Please. Wear this."

She took it in trembling hands. It was unfamiliar, merely some cabin boy's shirt. Yet the warmth that still clung to it from Kenshin's body lent the simple garment a sudden, heavy import. "Kenshin..."

"Please."

Wordlessly, she nodded. Her fingers were just as unsteady as his had been as she buttoned the shirt.

They were warmly received on the Hiryu. The captain was anxious to interview each of them about their experience, since he had been playing cat-and-mouse with the "Nayezdnik" for weeks. He was particularly interested in Kaoru's assessment of Ivanoff, writing down everything she told him in a small book.

"We've known for some time," he said, "that a vessel of the Imperial Russian navy has been entering these waters. We sighted the ship a week ago but lost her in a storm. This time," he fixed his eye on the fleeing gunboat, "this time I'll catch her."

"You can't."

"What do you mean." The captain turned to Saitoh, who was staring intently at the dark shoreline as if he could pierce the darkness by the force of his will alone.

"There is a spy involved in this, a notorious traitor. 'Kitsune,' he is called. Perhaps you have heard of him."

The captain's expression indicated that he had.

"Walk with me," Saitoh said. He and the captain strolled across the deck, away from the crowd of sailors gathered around the others.

"Will we go after the Russians or stay here?" Yahiko asked.

"Saitoh will have his way," Kenshin said.

"I hope we go after them," Sano said. "They're full of shit if they think they can just wander around Japan anytime they want to. What about what they did to you, Kenshin? What about--"

"I hope we let him go," Kaoru said in a small voice.

"Do you really want them to get away, Jou-chan?" Sano fixed her with an exasperated look. "After what they did to Kenshin? Is that what you really want?"

Ivanoff frowned as he watched the Hiryu break off its pursuit. Part of him was filled with profound relief: the Hiryu was faster and better armed than the "Nayezdnik." He was fortunate to have escaped.

And, yet...the Shimonoseki plans haunted him. He had been so close to accomplishing something really significant, only to have it slip away through the machinations of a crafty spy, two wounded men, and a girl.

Ivanoff slowly descended the stairs from the bridge as the coast of Hokkaido receded into the distance and went below decks to check on Dmitri. He had been told the young man was severely wounded, but he could hardly credit the report. Ivanoff knew his intelligence officer was a fine swordsman, not likely to be bested in a fight. He didn't expect to find him lying half-dead in the surgeon's care.

A fiasco. That was what the whole affair had been, from start to finish. Ivanoff trudged back to his cabin, wearily stripping off his jacket. Even Sebastopol didn't seem so bad now. Perhaps in a few months when the incident had been suitably smoothed over he would be able to return to Nagasaki.

He opened the door and was greeted by silver moonlight streaming in through the porthole. So that's how she escaped. As he crossed the cabin to close it, his feet tangled in something on the floor. Ivanoff reached down, felt soft material beneath his fingers. He lifted Kaoru's kimono slowly, suddenly aware of the scent of jasmine. Beneath his feet the engines of the "Nayezdnik" pounded like the heart of some great, untamed beast. Ivanoff smiled and shut the porthole softly, closing out the night.

"He really knows how to give orders, doesn't he?" Yahiko whispered. Saitoh would not wait until dawn to return to the beach, but instead had convinced the Hiryu's captain to begin the hunt for Kitsune and the stolen plans at once. Sano snorted as he watched the policeman split the sailors into teams.

"He hasn't even rested or eaten. What a hard-ass!" Sano shoveled more rice into his mouth. The lower decks of the Hiryu were hot but that didn't discourage Sano's appetite. He was shirtless, the Russian officer's hat still perched on his head at a rakish angle.

After leaving Kenshin with the ship's surgeon, he and Yahiko had gone below deck to find some food. Kaoru had stayed with Kenshin, saying that she would eat when he ate. Sano felt no such noble or loyal impulses when he stomach was growling. Also, he didn't want to miss the entertainment of watching Saitoh organize the Hiryu's men into search parties.

"Don't you think what he's doing is important, though? I mean, somebody should stop Kitsune before he gets those papers again. He could already be back on the beach by now. He might have hidden them anywhere--"

Sano laughed. The room fell silent as Saitoh turned to them, glaring. "I don't suppose you'd like to assist us?"

"No thanks!" Sano put his bowl down with a plunk. "It sounds really interesting, but I just remembered something important I've gotta check on. Maybe next time." He yawned widely, scratching his head beneath the brim of his hat. "Come on, Yahiko, I'm tired." He sauntered out of the cabin, Yahiko at his heels.

"Sano, maybe we should help search. As soon as they finish treating Kenshin, I know he will--"

"Kenshin's not going anywhere and neither are we."

"What?"

"Baka." Sano squatted down against the corridor wall and reached inside his trouser pocket. He drew out a sheaf of crumpled papers. "Hmm, it all kinda makes sense." He studied them silently.

"Sano," Yahiko breathed, "where did you get those?"

Sano grinned. "They've been in my pocket all along. I found them when I put the uniform on, but I didn't think anything about them until you just said the papers could be anywhere. I guess Kitsune was looking for a place to hide them on shore and figured no one would look in a chest full of clothes. Hey! Where are you going?"

"To tell Saitoh."

Sano yanked Yahiko back, shaking his head. "Yahiko, Yahiko." Saitoh's voice echoed down the companionway. Sano cocked his head, smiling as he listened to it. The thought of his nemesis slogging around the rocky cove all day looking for something he couldn't possibly find was too delicious. Even better than sake. "Sake," he said aloud. "That's what we need to celebrate our rescue. Come on, Yahiko!"

"But, Saitoh..."

"We'll tell him later." Sano pushed the boy ahead of him. Maybe.

The Hiryu's surgeon helped Kenshin out of his boots and trousers. Kaoru turned away as the pants slid to the floor, leaving Kenshin in nothing but baggy, Western underclothes tied at his waist with a drawstring.

"What modesty! It's good to see an old-fashioned wife these days," the surgeon said, "but you must let me show you how to care for your husband's injuries. It will take time for them to heal and I can only look after him until we reach Yokohama."

Your husband. Kaoru blushed as she came to Kenshin's side. He was sitting on the edge of the surgeon's board, watching her with an expression that might have been embarrassment or amusement. Should she explain the mistake? Kenshin made no move to contradict him, so she decided to let it pass.

The surgeon examined Kenshin, frowning. "Perhaps you don't need my instruction. You, young man, are no stranger to injury it seems. Most of these scars are well healed, though. My congratulations," he turned to Kaoru. "You've tended him well in the past."

"I have never..." Kaoru studied the floor. "It wasn't me who helped him before."

"Well, you'll be the one to help him now."

At those words Kaoru's head shot up. You'll be the one... "What can I do?"

"Here." The surgeon handed her a bottle of liniment. "Spread this on the bruises. It will take away some of the soreness and help them heal. I'll be back in a moment."

Kaoru's fingers trembled as she uncorked the bottle and poured the astringent liquid into her hand. It smelled of herbs and something spicy she couldn't place. She steeled herself and reached out tentatively, brushing her fingertips across Kenshin's chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm not as good at this as Megumi. Am I hurting you?"

"No."

"But... you're trembling."

"Gomen." Yet she could still feel a faint quivering wherever her fingers traced. His muscles were taut beneath her hand and Kaoru found she couldn't look at him as she worked. Often she had imagined touching his chest but now the smooth skin was marred by so many bruises. She wished she could erase them, wipe them away as easily as she would a stain.

"You're almost finished. Good!" The surgeon closed the cabin door behind him. "Now I'll show you how to bind his ribs until they heal."

Copiously bandaged, Kenshin finally escaped. The Hiryu's surgeon had done all he could: the rest would be left to time and Kaoru's care. "You should rest now," she said as she helped Kenshin down the narrow corridor. "You must be exhausted."

"I'd like some fresh air first. Just a little," he added to stave off her protests. "Will you come with me?"

It was strange, the way he said that. Kaoru nodded, not trusting her voice. Kenshin hadn't mentioned the kiss on the beach, hadn't acknowledged its existence. Was he glad it had happened or horrified she had been so bold?

They made their way up onto the forward deck. The Hiryu was underway, cutting cleanly through the dark waters like a katana sliding into its saya, heading south. "I wonder why we're leaving? I thought Saitoh was going to search the beach." Kaoru tried to keep her tone light but she was filled with a sudden urge to flee. She dug her fingernails into her palms.

"Something must have happened to change his mind." Kenshin sank down against one of the deck guns, his face to the wind.

"I'll go see."

"No." The hand on her arm was gentle but firm. "Please, stay here with me. The Shimonoseki plans are Saitoh's affair. I'm sure whatever has happened he has things well in hand."

"You're right." Kaoru sat down beside him, glad to stay in spite of herself. She would have hated leaving him there alone, a small figure huddled against the wind. She looked at Kenshin's bare shoulders, hunched a little as he rested his chin on his knees. "I should give this shirt back to you. You must be cold."

"No. Not at all." The wind blew a strand of hair across his eyes and unbidden, her hand lifted, brushing it aside. He didn't look at her.

"What happened to your face? What kind of blow could do that?"

"A revolver." His tone was matter-of-fact, impossible to interpret.

"Are you angry with me, Kenshin?"

"Angry with you?" He seemed genuinely surprised, as if she had startled him out of some private contemplation. "What cause would I have to be angry?" He took her hand, squeezed her fingers. Ordinarily she would have thrilled at even such a small overture, but now she could only hang her head.

"So many. I urged you to surrender, gave you up to the sailors. You might have been killed. They hit you in the face with a gun and who knows what else? I can't even begin to guess what they did to you." She choked back a sob. "I only know you might have died and it would have been my fault!"

"Listen to me. Please." Kenshin grasped her shoulders, turned her to face him. "It wasn't so bad. The Russians didn't do much of anything to me, but even if they had, even if they had killed me, it wouldn't have been your fault. You were only trying to help me, to save me."

"But I couldn't protect you!"

"No. You couldn't." His expression was grave. "Just as I couldn't keep them from taking you from me. This is the truth I have learned, both from the Russians and Enishi: I can never be certain of protecting you, no matter how much I want to. I realized on the beach how foolish I have been all this time, deceiving both myself and you. It is a barrier that can never be overcome between me and Kaoru-dono, one that will always keep us apart--"

"Never be overcome?" The tears that had threatened to spill from her eyes escaped in a torrent down her cheeks. "Always keep us apart? I don't care if you can protect me or not! I kissed you on the beach! Doesn't that mean anything? I've never, ever kissed anyone before!" Kaoru pulled away from him. "Kenshin no baka! How can you say that so calmly? Don't you know I love you?" She slapped his hands away, sobbing.

He reached out to her again, ignoring the pain as she pushed against his bruised chest, folding her into his arms. "Please. Stop struggling and listen for a moment! I'm so clumsy, koishii, and you never listen. Be still. Please."

Kaoru stopped fighting, her face pressed against his throat, but she couldn't control the sobs that shook her mercilessly. "I said I realized Kaoru-dono and I could never be together. I never said anything about me and Kaoru."

She lifted her head then, waiting half in fear, half in hope for his next words. Kenshin wiped her tears away, his fingers tracing her lips, leaving them moist and salty. Then he covered them with his own.

It was a kiss more eloquent than words. Gentle yet possessive, it left Kaoru with no doubt of Kenshin's feelings. Even when he finally released her lips he still held her body captive in the circle of his arms. "Forgive me, Kaoru," he whispered into her hair. "I've been unfair to you."

She shook her head emphatically. "No. Never." She pushed him away gently, studied his serious face in the dim glow of the deck lights.

"Yes," he said, "I have. I wanted you to be my Kaoru-dono forever, a girl I was content to serve and protect. That way, you would be safe from my enemies and I would be safe from my own feelings. I ignored yours, pretended it was only a child's love that would fade someday. I didn't believe you were wise enough to know what was best for yourself or you would never have chosen me."

"Baka..."

Kenshin took her hands, gripped them tightly for emphasis. "But, Kaoru, there on the beach I realized what a fool I've been. I was terrified when they took you from me and it was only your courage, your strength that carried us through." His eyes shone with admiration and something deeper, more intense. "I knew then you weren't my Kaoru-dono anymore, that I couldn't keep pushing you aside. You were powerful, too strong for me or the Russians." Kenshin drew her hands to his lips and she shivered as his warm breath caressed them. "I believe in you, Kaoru. Can you forgive me for being blind for so long?"

"There's nothing, nothing to forgive! But...do you really see me that way? As someone strong? Really?"

He nodded gravely.

"Then you won't protect me anymore?" Kaoru looked up at him teasingly, coaxing a smile onto his face.

Now it was his turn to whisper "baka" affectionately. She felt her heart leap at the passion in his voice. "Of course I'll protect you. I would give my life for you. The difference is that the only thing I had to give Kaoru-dono was the protection of my sword. When that faltered, when Enishi," he paused, chose his next words carefully, "when he...took you from me, I believed I had failed you utterly. But my love for you is stronger than my sword, stronger than separation or death. I may not always be able to protect you, Kaoru, but I will always love you."

"I can't believe it. I can't believe you said you love me." She twined her arms around his neck, oblivious to the way he trembled beneath her touch.

"I can't believe I waited so long." Kenshin rested his forehead against her shoulder. Her neck was soft, pale in the dim light. He groaned as he breathed in the scent of jasmine and, underneath it, an essence that was purely Kaoru.

"Are you in pain?" Her voice was innocent, concerned.

"No. Yes." He laughed at his own discomfort, saw the questioning look grow in her eyes. "I... I don't know how to begin, koishii. I wish I felt stronger, wish I could hold you the way I have wanted to for so long."

"You're tired." She stroked his shoulders, felt the tight muscles relax. "Rest in my arms, be with me. That's all I need." Kaoru's hands were gentle but persistent. Kenshin felt himself falling into her silence, surrounded by a peace he had almost forgotten.

Dimly, he remembered being held as a child, but that was an eternity ago. Often, alone at night, he had permitted himself to pretend he held Kaoru, protecting her as she slept. He never imagined that anyone would give him the gift of such comfort. Her hands caressed him, soothing anxiety and pain. "Are you sure I'm not too heavy?" His voice was drowsy, already slurred with sleep.

"Don't you know I'm strong enough?" Kaoru stroked his cheek, felt his smile spread beneath her fingers. Then she settled back against the deck gun, cradling Kenshin in her arms. His face rested against her chest, his breathing deep and regular. As tired as she was, Kaoru was too excited to close her eyes. It seemed so long ago that she and Kenshin had slept side by side in the balloon, not touching. But that was the past now. Like Enishi, like Shishio, like the Battousai, it was part of the distant night.

Slowly, light grew around her, the first rays of the sun touching Kenshin's hair with gold. Dawn opened the sky like a hand drawing back a curtain, revealing a horizon as vast as their future, clear and limitless in all directions.