Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaoru's first sensation upon waking was a wave of heat. She opened her eyes to find herself lying under the covers, still fully dressed. The air wasn’t particularly cool, and wrapped in a kimono like that, it was no wonder she felt smothered.

She pushed the blanket aside and sat up, finally able to breathe more freely. Once the dizziness faded, she looked around.

Where... am I?

Books were strewn carelessly across the floor. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary bedroom—one belonging to someone who didn’t care much for tidiness. That’s what Kaoru thought, until she saw the sword.

Yes—a sword. A long, slightly curved katana that looked alarmingly real. In Kaoru's time, such weapons were strictly forbidden. And yet here it was, lying amidst the clutter, no more or less conspicuous than the scattered books.

Aren't they afraid of violating the sword ban? The thought had barely taken shape when a calm, steady voice cut through the silence.

"You're awake."

Startled, Kaoru realised she wasn't alone. She looked up and saw a boy seated by the window. The sword that had caught her eye was resting near his feet—like the claw of a sleeping beast, at ease for now, but no less dangerous.

"This place is…"

"Somewhere you shouldn't stay for long."

He looked annoyed, brows furrowed in subtle frustration. Watching that serious expression on his face, fragments of last night's memories—and the fear that came with them—slowly began to return to her.

***

Kaoru never saw it coming—truth be told, she never should've been there in the first place.

In short, she'd stumbled into a murder scene.

Even now, she had not a clue how it had happened.

It had been just yesterday—broad daylight. She was planning to head into town to buy groceries. Normally, she'd have spent the day at the dojo, instructing students in the ways of Kamiya Kasshin-ryū. But lately, one by one, the students had stopped coming. They said there were rumors—rumors of a man calling himself Battōsai attacking travelers nearby and killing them.

Kaoru had heard of Battōsai before. He was a legendary Ishin Shishi who had been active during the Bakumatsu, said to have taken countless lives. Kaoru had never cared much for history, and she hadn’t paid the rumors much attention. If a man like that really had existed, he was probably roasting in hell by now. The way she’d been raised, taking a life was never justified. A good person, no matter the reason, should never kill.

Still, it had nothing to do with her—until someone started claiming to be “Battōsai of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryū.” That was a step too far.

The students had started dropping out one after another. The few who still came looked uncomfortable, like they were engaging in something shameful just by showing up. It left a bitter taste in Kaoru’s mouth. And today, no one came at all.

Not even halfway through the day, Kaoru had no choice but to find something else to kill her time. Which is why she changed out of her usual keikogi and slipped on a brightly colored kimono—something an ordinary young woman might wear—and headed out.

She was worried—things couldn’t go on like this. She had to do something to restore the honor of her students and of the Ryūha her late father, Kamiya Koshijirō, had built with his own hands and entrusted to her as its sole heir.

Starting tomorrow, she thought, I’ll take my shinai and patrol the neighborhood. and catch the real culprit who called himself Battōsai myself. But just as that thought crossed her mind, she missed a loose stone underfoot. She stumbled along the path by the riverbank, and by the time she picked herself up, dazed and unsteady—everything around her had completely changed.

The sky was dark—fully dark, with stars twinkling above and the moon hanging low.

Kaoru stood there, stunned. Had she really been out all day… just from a single fall?

However, that wasn't the strangest part. This wasn't the riverbank she knew. Beneath her feet lay old-fashioned stone bricks paving, and the street was flanked by low, cramped houses pressed tightly together. It looked more like something out of Kyoto—the Kyoto her father had taken her to visit when she was a little girl.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Where… am I?"

She took a few cautious steps forward, calling out softly. But no one answered. Every shop had its shutters drawn. Not a soul was in sight.

With no other choice, she started wandering, hoping to find her bearings. But the place was uncanny—its layout a twisting labyrinth. Every turn led to another alley, each more unfamiliar than the last. Before long, she couldn’t even retrace her steps to where she’d started.

Her heart sank. If worse came to worst, she’d have to knock on someone’s door and ask for directions. But how? Waking someone in the middle of the night… she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Surely someone must still be awake?

As if in answer, a metallic sound rang out in the distance—sharp and clear, like blades clashing in the alley ahead.

Someone was there!

Kaoru’s heart leapt. She followed the sound in a rush, afraid that whoever it was might leave before she reached them. The only weapon she’d ever handled was a shinai, used for practice in Kamiya Kasshin-ryū. She’d never witnessed a real fight, never mind one with live blades. So it didn’t occur to her that she might be running straight into danger.

Which is exactly what she did.

She stumbled upon a scene so horrific, so surreal, her mind struggled to make sense of it.

There were two men. One was still standing, sword in hand. The other lay sprawled on the ground, face turned toward her, eyes wide open—staring straight at her. His body—she couldn’t be imagining this, could she?—was nearly cut in two.

Someone had been killed here.

Kaoru’s mind went completely blank. There was no time to regret not thinking things through earlier—she heard herself let out a scream.

And just like that, it wasn't only the corpse on the ground anymore—now even the killer turned to look at her. Their eyes met from a distance, and just that was enough to send her legs into collapse—she couldn't move, couldn't run.

Then, the man vanished.

In the next moment, he reappeared without a sound—right in front of her.

All Kaoru could feel then was the sudden chill in the air, sharp and cutting, and the suffocating stench of blood washing over her.

"Who are you?"

The killer looked straight at Kaoru. Her heart nearly stopped. She didn't even register the blade now pressed to her throat.

I'm going to die here.

No one had ever held a real sword to her neck before. The sheer shock of it was too much.

Her vision darkened—and everything went black.

***

Kaoru slowly regained consciousness—and the face she’d seen before blacking out was now the same one standing by the window. Panic surged through her, and she practically leapt to her feet. She had no idea where the exit was—only that staying within a killer’s line of sight was a terrible idea.

If only she had her shinai. Kaoru tried to steady her breathing, but before she could make a move to escape, the very person she’d labeled a murderer spoke up.

“I wouldn’t recommend running outside right now. If you do, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

There was no room for doubt in his tone. To Kaoru, it sounded like a threat.

"Why not? What could possibly be more dangerous out there than you—a murderer?" she shot back, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I… I can't trust you! I saw what you did yesterday—"

"Yesterday?" the boy interrupted. "I was the one who brought you back here. If I'd meant to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Despite her lingering fear, Kaoru wasn't stupid. She could tell he was probably telling the truth. It was broad daylight now, and somehow she'd spent the entire night here, unharmed. Still, his intentions were a mystery—and the sword by his feet was a constant reminder that he could turn violent at any moment. She stayed still, making no sudden moves.

The boy seemed to ease a little now that she wasn’t trying to bolt. His voice softened.

"Your situation is… complicated. You need to understand what’s going on. It’s the only way to make sure you get out of here safely. But first, I need to ask you a few questions. Please answer honestly."

"…Who are you? And what were you doing there last night?"

"I… I just…" Kaoru stammered, nerves still tying her tongue.

"It's alright. Take your time."

He was trying to calm her—which, paradoxically, only made her more uneasy. Clearly, she’d stumbled into something serious. Something she didn’t understand. Still, she saw no other option than to cooperate.

"I… I was just out shopping yesterday…"

Starting from the moment she’d gotten lost, Kaoru told him everything, as truthfully as she could. The boy listened quietly, watching her closely but not interrupting. When she finally finished, he let out a small sigh of relief.

"Just as I thought. You really were just a passerby. This was my mistake—I dragged you into something that had nothing to do with you."

"Huh?"

"To be blunt, my identity isn’t something I can let people know. Under normal circumstances, someone who saw what you saw would have to be silenced. I don’t want to hurt an innocent person—but I also can’t just let you go. Not after what you witnessed.

"You passed out, so I brought you back here. I figured I’d make sure you kept quiet, then send you off when the time was right."

"But this place isn’t somewhere outsiders can just come and go. That’s why I needed to ask about your background. Now that I’ve heard it… at the very least, I can say you’re no spy."

Truthfully, the questioning was mostly for show. Himura Kenshin had believed from the beginning that she was just an unlucky civilian. But he had to go through the motions—for the sake of everyone else at the inn.

It was, honestly, a painfully awkward situation.

Last night, he’d gone out for a drink—and was ambushed on the way back. After taking down the assassins sent by the Shogunate, he turned to find someone standing at the mouth of the alley: her.

And just like he said, he hadn’t had the heart to kill someone innocent.

That was when things got complicated. Leaving her behind meant risking exposure—what if she talked? But bringing her back meant revealing the Chōshū Domain’s hideout to a total stranger. In the end, he had no choice but to put himself in the middle—trying to keep her quiet while also making sure no one else found out she’d seen the Hitokiri Battōsai in action.

Last night, he'd tried to sneak the girl in through the back door—only to be caught red-handed by the landlady. She looked absolutely stunned. Kenshin scrambled to come up with an excuse, saying there’d been some chaos outside, and the girl had fainted from fright, so he brought her back to make sure she was safe. The landlady gave him a long, hard stare.

"This isn’t a love hotel, you know."

That was the moment Kenshin realised—his reputation as a decent person was officially ruined. Excuses aside, he’d done something completely out of line: brought a woman into a secret hideout for Ishin Shishi.

After that, the landlady didn’t say a word—she just gave him that look adults reserve for teenage boys doing something incredibly stupid. By morning, rumors had already spread: the girl—whose name he didn’t even know—had somehow become Battōsai’s girlfriend in the eyes of his colleagues. And just like that, Battōsai’s name was dragged through the mud. He couldn’t have cleared it even if he tried. 

Still… in a way, that worked in their favor. With that label, she was less likely to be questioned. That’s why he couldn’t just let her run off clueless and risk drawing attention to herself.

Then again… there was something odd about her story. What kind of local gets lost just trying to buy groceries? But the way she fumbled through her explanation—so unguarded, so earnestly confused—actually reassured him. Someone trying to lie wouldn’t leave such obvious holes in their story. No, this girl clearly didn’t have the skills to deceive anyone.

A civilian without hidden motives… maybe that was a good thing.

Which was all the more reason to send her away quickly. Someone like her—gentle, innocent, completely untrained—wouldn't last if things went south again. And this place? It was anything but safe.

"Everyone here thinks you're my girlfriend now. So when you talk to them, don’t let the truth slip. I’ll make arrangements to get you out of here soon. …Sorry you got dragged into this. I never meant for you to see me kill that Shogunate assassin."

…Wait. Shogunate assassin? That Shogunate?

Up until that moment, Kaoru had been angry—furious, even. The nerve of this guy! A possible murderer, part of who-knows-what shady organization, acting like she was the suspicious one? She’d been the one kidnapped, silenced, and accused of being a spy! And now he wanted to cover things up?

You’re the suspicious one here! she wanted to yell. Breaking the sword ban and murdering someone in the street? And I’m the problem?!

And don’t even get her started on this ridiculous “girlfriend” story. Who could possibly pretend to be this guy’s girlfriend? He was rude, stiff, and had the emotional range of a wooden training dummy. Sure, his tone had softened a little since last night, but still—he was the absolute worst.

And then…

He said it.

“Shogunate.”

That one word shattered everything she thought she knew. In an instant, all the strange details snapped into place, connecting into a single, impossible conclusion. To be sure, she asked:

"Where… where exactly am I? Wait…"

No, wrong question.

"What year is it?"

That had to be the most ridiculous question he’d heard all year. But then Kenshin paused—had he scared her that badly? Thinking back, he had come on a bit too strong at first. And after all the bloody scene she’d witnessed last night… Poor girl. Maybe he’d overwhelmed her more than he realised. He could only hope he hadn’t done any lasting damage to her mind.

Kaoru watched as the boy opened his mouth, then thought better of it. In the end, he gave her a look that seemed caring and a little apologetic—though if you looked closely, it was really just barely-disguised concern that bordered on rude.

"It's the first year of Genji. The era name changed just this past February."

Kaoru went pale.

So it was true.

She had time-traveled to the Bakumatsu.

And this guy here thought she’d lost her mind.

Chapter Text

"Genji, first year… then this place is…" Kaoru murmured.

"The Kyoto base of the Chōshū Ishin Shishi," Kenshin said calmly. "There's no harm in telling you now."

The Bakumatsu—the era of turmoil and war—felt worlds away to someone from Kaoru's generation. And so, terms like Ishin Shishi had faded into something abstract. To a typical young woman raised in the Meiji era, those men could seem like heroes or murderers—or maybe both. Kaoru had never paid much attention to history and had no strong feelings about it either. She simply recalled the old legend of Battōsai. If memory served, he had been one of the Chōshū Shishi.

Kaoru was starting to grow anxious. This was Chōshū Shishi territory—definitely not somewhere she was supposed to be. No… she wasn't supposed to be in the Bakumatsu at all. But if she wanted to go back, how was she supposed to do it? She didn't even know how she'd ended up here in the first place.

Kenshin, seeing her fall abruptly silent, felt his concern deepen. He decided to change the subject, hoping it might ease the tension a little.

"You're probably hungry. I left some lunch for you over there—have something to eat first."

Kaoru looked at him, surprised by the gesture. Following his eyes, she saw a low table set with a meal. After half a day of unconsciousness and one panic after another, she realised she really was hungry.

"Thank you…" she murmured.

There wasn't much she could do right now anyway—so she sat down and ate. Kenshin gathered up the books scattered on the floor to make space for her. The food was much more edible than what she usually cooked for herself—and tasted even better on an empty stomach. As she lifted her chopsticks, Kaoru felt—just for a moment—a small, fragile sense of grounding in this completely unfamiliar era.

As she ate, Kaoru stole a few glances at the boy. His vivid red hair was certainly distinctive, but what caught her attention more was his delicate, almost girlish face—he looked so young, possibly even younger than she was. And yet, just yesterday she had seen his deadly ferocity, and today, his calm and measured maturity.

But… he didn’t really seem like a bad person.

Kenshin was lost in thought and didn’t return her gaze.

Kaoru lowered her head and stirred the rice in her bowl.

She’d been told before that it was wise not to trust people too easily, but when it came down to it, she always found herself wanting to believe the best in others. Without even realising it, some of her wariness toward the boy had begun to melt away. His serious, sometimes stern demeanor didn’t make him easy to approach, but it was clear he meant no harm. And he had noticed she was hungry and made sure she had food. Kaoru figured that someone like that couldn’t be all bad.

He had said he would help her leave as soon as possible, but—

Kaoru suddenly felt a tightness in her chest, and the food in her mouth became hard to swallow.

The only place she could return to was Tokyo in the eleventh year of Meiji. And yet, her arrival had been so strange that she had no idea how to go back. Not just Kyoto—there was nowhere in all of 1864 Japan that truly belonged to her. Once she stepped outside this house, where could she possibly go?

The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became. Just then, someone slid the door open with a loud clatter.

"Yo, Himura!"

Kaoru and the boy turned to look. Kaoru was startled out of her thoughts, while the one addressed as Himura immediately tensed, his expression turning cold—as if he wasn’t particularly pleased by the visitor’s arrival.

"Did you need something from me, Iizuka-dono?"

The man—Iizuka, as he was addressed—was a tall, lanky man. In stark contrast to the serious Himura, Iizuka wore a grin so broad it seemed almost theatrical.

"Always so stiff! The landlady mentioned you'd brought a young lady back with you. Half the day's gone, and I've yet to catch a glimpse—my curiosity got the better of me."

"If there's no urgent matter, please refrain from looking for me."

But Iizuka brushed the rebuff aside with practiced ease. His gaze settled on Kaoru, and at once, he was regarding her with undisguised interest.

"Well now, you've an eye for beauty, haven't you, Himura? And you, miss—may I ask your name?"

Himura gave no reply—only a glance toward Kaoru, brief but meaningful.

‘Remember what I told you. Don't give too much away.’

"I'm Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru. Pleased to meet you," she said, sitting upright and gave a brief introduction.

"Ooh, lovely! I'm Iizuka. I usually work alongside Himura. Let's get along, yeah?"

Kaoru offered no further words—best to say little, and reveal less. Fortunately, Iizuka's attention shifted back to Himura soon enough. He strode over and flung an arm over the boy's shoulders in a companionable gesture that was not at all returned. Kaoru watched as a look of displeasure crossed Himura's face.

Though Iizuka had lowered his voice, Kaoru could still make out what he said to Himura.

"Well? How was it? She wore you out last night?"

Kaoru went scarlet in an instant. She understood exactly what he meant—and it was vile. Shame and fury surged through her; she very nearly hurled her bowl and chopsticks at his head. If she weren't stuck in Bakumatsu-era Kyoto, forced to keep up this charade of being "someone's woman," she absolutely would have.

But… but still… the urge to strike both of them was nearly unbearable. Such filth! How dare they!

To be fair, Himura looked just as pissed. In fact, he was brimming with visible hostility—his fists clenched, his whole frame taut with restrained fury. Kaoru hoped—really hoped—he would sock Iizuka in the jaw.

But he didn't.

His expression just darkened further, and at last, his voice came low and clipped,

"That has nothing to do with you."

"Alright, alright—nothing to do with me," Iizuka said with a cheeky grin. "But this—this definitely has everything to do with you."

He stood and slipped something into Himura's hand. At once, the younger man's demeanor changed—face sharpening with sudden focus.

"It’s tonight," Iizuka added.

Kaoru couldn't quite see what had been passed—her line of sight was blocked—but it looked like a small black envelope. She didn't dwell on it; everything here was so unfamiliar that one more mystery didn't make much difference.

"Katsura-sensei—has he left already?"

"Mm. Had business back at the Hantei. Headed off a while ago."

Iizuka clapped Himura on the shoulder. "Got business to take care of myself, so I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Couples your age love to squabble, huh? As the guy, you'd better learn to smooth things over—ha ha!"

"That's none of your business."

Himura slammed the door behind him and sat down by the window with a deep sigh. When he looked up, Kaoru was still sitting there, looking uncertain.

"Kaoru-dono," he said, "I apologise for what he said earlier. Iizuka is... just like that. If I could have arranged a private room for you, we could've avoided this. But there aren't any available rooms, so I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for now."

"Oh—don't worry about it!" Kaoru waved it off. "It's really no big deal. There's no need for an apology."

Himura didn't push the matter further and shifted to the next subject.

"You should leave as soon as possible and forget everything that's happened since last night."

At those words, Kaoru faltered, visibly troubled.

"Well, that may be true..."

Still, Kaoru had her doubts—if she told the truth, who would ever believe her? Maybe... maybe she could just go back to where it all started yesterday and see if that somehow led her home.

"What's wrong? Is something bothering you?"

"Um, well… I don't really know my way around this area. Would you mind taking me back to the alley from yesterday?"

Himura recalled what she had told him earlier—Right, she’d been lost when they first crossed paths.

"Alright, I’ll go with you tomorrow then."

It was already late in the afternoon, and he had work later that evening. There wasn’t enough time for another trip out, so it would have to wait until the next day.

But then another thought came to him—maybe it didn’t have to be that complicated.

"Why not just tell me where you live?"

"Actually... I’m from..." Kaoru stopped herself just in time, swallowing the word Tokyo before it slipped out. She quickly corrected herself, "My hometown is in Edo."

"So you're only staying in Kyoto for now? You must be lodging somewhere, right?"

Kaoru felt like she was being backed into a corner. Himura wasn't pressing her on purpose, but his questions were getting harder and harder to dodge.

"Or… is there something you can't talk about?"

Kaoru nodded.

"…Fine. I'll go with you tomorrow."

Himura had no real interest in a stranger's secrets. All he wanted was to see her safely out of the Kohagi-ya as soon as possible. Whatever she was trying to hide, it wouldn't be his problem once she left tomorrow.

As for Kaoru, that at least gave her the rest of the day to breathe. She still had no idea whether she'd be able to find a way back home, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

They didn't speak much after that. Himura kept to himself, distant as ever, but he let her pass the time flipping through some of his books.

Around dusk, someone brought in dinner for two. Himura finished his meal quickly, picked up his sword, and moved to leave. After spending the day with him, Kaoru suddenly felt uneasy at the thought of being alone in the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Work. Stay here—and try not to go wandering around."

"Wait," Kaoru called after him. She hadn't actually thought of anything to say. So instead, she asked,

"What's your full name? I know your family name is Himura, but what's the rest?"

Himura paused, then replied.

"Himura Kenshin."

Kaoru smiled. "Then I'll call you Kenshin."

"…Suit yourself."

Kenshin. Kaoru repeated the name to herself a few times. It had a certain ring to it—sharp, but somehow gentle. A striking name, really.

Night had fallen, and yet for some reason, Kenshin still hadn’t returned.

At first, being out of his sight brought Kaoru a sense of relief. But as the hours wore on, a cold, creeping loneliness began to settle around her.

She hadn't touched her beloved shinai in two days. It wasn't just a training tool for Kamiya Kasshin-ryū—it was one of the few keepsakes her father had left behind. And it had been a long time since she'd spent a night feeling this alone.

I want to go home… She'd vanished for two whole days now. Hiruma Kihei, who was watching over the dojo, must be worried sick.

He'd been living with her for a year now, always looking after her like a dependable elder. He was constantly trying to shoulder more of the chores, but for Kaoru, just having someone else around was enough. Knowing she wasn't the only one in that big old dojo gave her peace of mind.

Kaoru laid out her own futon and, and with nothing better to do, she thought she might as well set out Kenshin's too—so he could rest when he got back.

But no matter how much she searched the room, she couldn't find a second set of futon.

Wait… then where did he sleep last night?

Now that she thought about it, when she woke up that morning, he'd been sitting off to the side.

Don't tell me… he just sat there for the entire night? Seriously? That's no way to take care of yourself…

Kaoru's inner worrywart kicked in almost instinctively.

It was late—everyone else was probably already asleep. It didn't feel right to go knocking on doors asking for another futon now. She'd just have to wait until Kenshin came back.

She crawled under the covers, but sleep wouldn't come. Bored and restless, her thoughts began to wander.

I wonder what Kenshin is doing out there right now…?

The moment she shut her eyes, yesterday's gruesome scene replayed itself—Kenshin, sword in hand, standing over a lifeless body, like some kind of reaper. She quickly shook her head, trying to banish the image.

If he truly was one of the Ishin Shishi, then fighting and killing was probably just part of life for him. Still, after spending the day with him, Kaoru couldn't bring herself to believe he was some heartless monster.

If anything, he might be the only person in this strange place she could place even a shred of trust in.

Eventually, sleep crept up on her.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the sound of the door opening stirred her. Half-asleep, she sat up and pushed back the covers.

"Kenshin, you're ba—"

She never got the words out.

Something felt off.

Kenshin didn't reply. Didn't even seem to hear her. He trudged past with slow, heavy steps, made his way to the window, unfastened the sword from his waist, and collapsed beside it, curling around it in silence.

Was it just her imagination, or did he seem… completely drained?

During the day, he might've been distant, but at least he was sharp and full of energy. The man sitting there now looked… hollow. Like all the life had been sucked out of him.

There was a faint scent clinging to him—barely there, but impossible to miss.

The metallic scent… of blood.

Chapter Text

Some people might call it meddling—but Kaoru couldn't stand by and ignore someone who clearly needed help.

"Kenshin, are you hurt? You smell like blood," she asked.

"So it won't wash off after all…" Kenshin muttered, his head slightly bowed. Then, more clearly: "I'm fine. You don't need to worry, Kaoru-dono."

"But you don't look fine. Did something happen while you were out there?"

"That's not something you need to know. It's late. You should get some sleep—we have to go out tomorrow morning."

His refusal was calm, but firm. He clearly wanted to shut the conversation down as quickly as possible. Kaoru realised she wasn't going to get any more out of him. Everyone had one thing or two they couldn't talk about, and Kenshin, it seemed, was no exception. And if he wasn't willing to talk, Kaoru knew it wasn't her place to dig any deeper.

"…But there's only one futon. How are you going to sleep without a blanket?"

"That futon is usually unused—I brought it out for you. I'm fine just leaning against the wall."

Kaoru had never seen such a careless way of living. Sleep was supposed to be the time to relax and unwind—even cats and dogs knew to find a soft, warm spot to curl up in. How could someone deny themselves even that?

After a moment's thought, she threw off the blanket and stood up, picking up the outer she'd taken off earlier. Kenshin looked puzzled as she walked straight over and, without giving him a chance to protest, draped it over him.

"Kaoru-dono… what are you doing?"

"You're sleeping by the window. You'll catch a cold," she said simply. "You let me borrow your futon, so it's only fair I let you borrow this."

For the first time, Kaoru caught a look of surprise on Kenshin's face, and she felt quite pleased with herself. Now, he probably wouldn't refuse.

"I'll leave it with you for just the night. You have to return it to me in the morning."

Her braid swayed gently behind her as she turned away. Kenshin watched her retreating figure, his eyes flickering in the dim light.

"Kaoru-dono…"

Once Kaoru settled back into bed and closed her eyes, she finally heard Kenshin's quiet voice behind her.

"Thank you."

His voice was low but sincere, and she could hear every word, clear as day.

***

Kaoru had been the one so desperate to get home—yet she was also the one who ended up sleeping in the next morning.

When she opened her eyes, sunlight was already streaming through the window, and the sounds of a bustling street drifted up from below. It seemed life in Kyoto had been well underway for quite some time.

Downstairs, a woman was selling flowers, her bright, lilting cries drifting down the street and fading into the distance. Mornings like this—quiet, peaceful—reminded Kaoru of home. She'd had plenty just like it back in Tokyo.

Half-awake, she lay there listening for a while. Then suddenly, she remembered what she was supposed to do today—and shot upright in bed.

"Oh no!"

Kenshin looked up from where he was sitting by the window, a book in his hands.

"You're awake."

"What time is it?!" she blurted.

"Breakfast ended a while ago," he replied. Then, anticipating her next question, added, "Yours is beside the futon."

Sure enough, beside the futon was a set of meal—and the outer layer of her clothes she'd lent him as a blanket the night before, now folded with care. Had Kenshin done that? He was surprisingly meticulous.

As Kaoru scrambled to get dressed, she grumbled, "You could've woken me up earlier, you know."

"I ran into Iizuka earlier," Kenshin said. "He told me there's nothing for me to do today, so there's no need to rush."

"You get days off like that...?"

Kenshin neither confirmed nor denied, simply said, "We'll head out after you eat."

With that, he returned to his book. Seeing how relaxed he was, Kaoru stopped rushing and took her time getting ready. She carefully adjusted her kimono, undid her braid, and tied her hair up in a high ponytail with a ribbon. Just like that, she looked much more cheerful and full of life.

Wherever you are, a new day should always begin with getting yourself ready. Though if things went well today, she was hoping to be back in her beloved keikogi as soon as possible.

After breakfast, Kaoru followed Kenshin out of the inn for the first time. The inn was called "Kohagi-ya," with those bold, thick kanji painted on the sign at the entrance.

The sun beat down overhead, but the streets were still bustling with Kyoto residents going about their day. Shops and street vendors were busy with business, and passersby flowed by in a steady stream. Despite being in a time of war, and Kyoto being a place of frequent unrest, the people here still lived their ordinary lives. Meanwhile, the Chōshū Shishi blended quietly into the hustle and bustle of the market streets.

Kaoru followed closely behind Kenshin as he wound through alleys and side streets. She had never been to Kyoto much—and certainly not this version of it. Naturally, she couldn't help but glance around, curious. However, before long, she lost track of where they were and couldn't tell which street led back to Kohagi-ya.

The crowds around them shifted—dense one moment, sparse the next. Now and then, they passed through narrow alleys where not a single soul could be seen, the moss creeping across the stone paving. Kenshin moved ahead without a word, weaving effortlessly through the labyrinth of buildings. When he did speak, it was only to indicate the next turn.

"Kaoru-dono, I assume this is the place you're looking for?"

Kenshin stopped ahead of her. This was indeed the same alley where Kaoru had met him two nights ago. Kaoru gave a soft "Mm." The place, put simply, was just a narrow passage between the back walls of two rows of houses. It was quiet enough—so secluded that not even a soul could be seen in broad daylight—but at least there were no bodies or bloodstains. Under the sunlight, it no longer felt as eerie.

The shocking scene from that night had certainly left a psychological mark on Kaoru. Yet, despite the lingering unease, she found herself a bit curious.

"Kenshin, about the person on the ground the other night..." Kaoru gestured with her hand, "was he... one of your Chōshū Domain's enemies?"

Kenshin was still recalling the details of that bloody battle, so it didn't take him long to realise what Kaoru was referring to. Before he met her, he'd been passing time in a tavern. Afterward, he had taken this route back to Kohagi-ya, only to be ambushed. His opponent had immediately called out his name—"Battōsai." Kenshin's identity as a killer, and even his existence, had always been a secret. So, he immediately suspected there was a traitor within his domain. Though he’d brought his opponent down in only a few exchanges, it was enough to raise a troubling red flag. The next day, Katsura Kogoro had come to Kohagi-ya, and Kenshin reported the incident to him.

Since Kaoru was just an ordinary civilian, she shouldn't know too much, so Kenshin had only given her the briefest explanation.

"He was an assassin, and he came after me."

"Ah… I see."

Kaoru couldn't help but feel that their lives weren't even remotely human. You never knew when death might come for you. She could never imagine living like that. The peaceful eleventh year of Meiji suited her far better.

"Kyoto's still quite unsettled these days. After dark, alleys like this are prime spots for assassinations," Kenshin warned kindly. "Kaoru-dono, you mustn't walk alone at night again."

"Mm, you're right. I'll keep that in mind."

Whether she’d be staying long in this "unsettled" Kyoto was another question entirely, but one thing was certain—Kaoru had learned her lesson. It wasn’t like she’d even wanted to be out that night in the first place, but still… sigh. And just her luck—she hadn’t been carrying a weapon. If the person she'd run into had been some cold-blooded killer, her bright and promising life could've ended right then and there.

If there was a way back, then back she would go. With that thought in mind, Kaoru began her search.

As she walked, she tried to recall what the streets had looked like when she'd stumbled and gotten back up that night. She wandered around, comparing what she saw with her memory. This time, it was Kenshin who followed patiently behind her, mostly to make sure she didn't get lost again.

After weaving through a few turns, they managed to find the spot.

It was a quiet street, with only the occasional passerby. Kaoru recognised it thanks to a lantern shop she remembered—its sign was a lantern bearing the store's name. The shop was open now, though it didn't seem to be doing much business. A few items were sparsely arranged inside, and the clerk, clearly bored, was yawning in the warm late-spring sun. The neighbouring shops didn't look any better off either.

What a miserable-looking place, Kaoru thought.

Kaoru paced up and down the street a few times. Nothing happened—which she'd expected. That was fine. She was mentally prepared. She had one theory about how to get home, the one she felt most confident about, and now was the time to give it a shot.

"You live somewhere around here?" Kenshin asked, looking around. "Do you remember which way to go now?"

Kaoru took a deep breath.

"Kenshin! Turn around. Don't look!"

"…Huh?"

"If I disappear in a minute—don't come looking for me! That just means I made it home safe."

"What?!"

What was she, some kind of Princess Kaguya? Dropping in for a brief visit, only to vanish back to the heavens without a word? Kenshin was thoroughly confused—but Kaoru clearly had her reasons, and as an outsider, it wasn't really his place to question her. So, obediently, he turned his back to her.

Kaoru, now reassured, set her plan in motion. She lifted the hem of her skirt, took off running—then deliberately tripped herself, her right foot catching her left.

Flat on the ground, she thought: If I've got this right, this'll recreate the exact moment and conditions of the time travel. If it works—I'll be home. If it doesn't… I'm just going to look like a total idiot.

"Kaoru-dono!!"

Oww—ouch, ouch, ouch… She could've sworn she heard Kenshin calling out in alarm as she hit the ground.

Kaoru scrambled to her feet, excitement bubbling up—only for her vision to spin wildly. Once everything stopped swaying and settled back into place, her heart sank. Nothing had changed.

She turned her head and found Kenshin crouching beside her, a flicker of concern on his face. Whether it was about her fall or about her mental state, she couldn't quite tell. Hopefully not the latter. His concern was oddly contagious. For a moment, Kaoru found herself feeling worried as well… and in that instant, she forgot she was supposed to be feeling disappointed.

"Oh dear, young man, you've got to keep a better eye on your lady friend," the lantern shop clerk called lazily, chin resting on his hand. "Can't have her tripping like that. Boy these days—always so careless."

Kenshin's expression briefly stiffened, but he still moved to help her up. Kaoru raised a hand, gently turning him down.

"It's okay. Don't worry about me. I just… need a moment to collect myself."

"Do you have to do that on the ground? People are starting to stare."

"…Right. Getting up now."

She dusted off her clothes and stood, still a bit dizzy, more emotionally than physically shaken. Confusion set in, and quickly gave way to sadness.

Why hadn't it worked?

Was it not just about tripping in the same spot—did the timing have to line up exactly too?

But how on earth was she supposed to know the exact time? It's not like she could've timed it down to the second!

Or worse—what if the whole thing had nothing to do with where or when she fell? What if there was some other reason she'd come to this world, something she hadn't figured out yet?

Her chest tightened. The hope of returning home suddenly felt unbearably distant.

So now what?

Kaoru stared at the unfamiliar street, the unfamiliar faces. Panic, sorrow, and helplessness crept in from all sides, until they were all she could feel.

She stayed silent for a long while, long enough for even Kenshin to sense something was wrong.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm alright," Kaoru replied sullenly. "But… it seems I can't go back."

"What do you mean? You don't live anywhere near here?"

At that, Kaoru was once again reminded of the problem now looming in front of her—she could keep searching for a way home, sure, but until then... where was she supposed to go?

"Kenshin, there's something I need to tell you." After going back and forth about it, Kaoru decided to just come clean. "It’s going to sound unbelievable, but please believe me—I’m telling the truth."

"Go ahead."

"Can we… talk somewhere more private?"

***

They ended up back in the narrow alley where they'd first met.

"Is it safe to talk now?" Kenshin asked.

Kaoru's behavior was growing more and more mysterious, and Kenshin couldn't help but revisit his wild "Princess Kaguya" theory. Then again, that didn't quite add up. What kind of celestial being trips over flat ground? Maybe the poor girl had been so traumatised the other night that she'd lost her senses—couldn't even remember where she lived?

Arms folded, Kenshin was still puzzling this over when Kaoru held out a coin pouch in front of him. He glanced up.

What's this about now?

"I want you to take a look inside first. Maybe then you'll believe what I'm about to tell you."

Kenshin opened the pouch and peeked inside—then his eyes widened.

Inside the pouch Kaoru handed him were several strange coins. During this era, each domain minted and circulated its own currency, but judging by their design, these didn't resemble anything issued by any domain Kenshin knew of.

What puzzled him even more were the inscriptions. On the back of each coin were three sets of characters, arranged in a ring around the edge. Kenshin could read ‘Meiji Year 10' and ‘Dai Nippon'—but the third set wasn't in kana, nor was it any writing system he recognised.

"Where did you get these? 'Meiji'—is that an era name?"

"I'm not from your time. I don't know why I ended up here, but everything I told you the other night was true. I tripped and fell, and when I got up, everything around me had changed. It wasn't until I spoke with you the next morning that I realised this isn't the time I come from."

By now, Kaoru was actually much calmer than she had been before.

"I'm from the future—the eleventh year of the Meiji era. The Meiji era started in—"

A sudden, piercing headache struck Kaoru mid-sentence, cutting her off completely. At first, she thought it was a coincidence, but after several attempts, each was met with even sharper pain.

"Kaoru-dono, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry… I don't think I can say it. Just now, it felt like my tongue was tied in knots, and my head hurt, badly."

Kaoru pressed a hand to her forehead. It seemed the pain only faded when she gave up trying to speak that specific point in time aloud.

If, before, Kenshin had still suspected that Kaoru might be acting strangely due to some kind of trauma, now he wasn't so sure—especially after seeing those coins. As strange as it all was, when he pieced things together based on the information Kaoru had given him, some of the things that had previously seemed odd now began to make sense.

Kenshin placed the coins back into the pouch and carefully tied it shut.

"Here. Keep this safe. Don't ever show it to anyone again—seriously. It could get you into a lot of trouble. And what you just told me—don't repeat it to anyone else."

"Huh?"

Kaoru looked up in surprise. She'd been fully prepared to be denounced as a liar—but Kenshin, unexpectedly, seemed to believe her.

"And… if I'm understanding you right, you don't have anywhere to go right now, do you?" he asked.

Chapter Text

"If I'm understanding you right," Kenshin said, "you don't have anywhere to go right now, do you?"

Kaoru's eyes lit up. "Kenshin, you believe me! I knew it!!"

Kenshin had never been good at dealing with such earnest eyes. He turned his face away. "I wouldn't go so far as to say I believe you. It's just… there were things that had never made sense to me. But after hearing what you said, I guess it does line up."

Besides, if he hadn't seen those coins with his own eyes, he might not have accepted her story so easily. There was something else he hadn't mentioned—Kaoru wore her heart on her sleeve. Whatever she thought, it showed on her face. He didn't believe someone like that was capable of lying with ill intent.

"Well, that's basically believing," Kaoru said. "You're just overcomplicating it."

She let herself relax a little. Kenshin actually wanted to help her. The situation hadn't been resolved yet, but just having someone trustworthy who took her seriously made things feel so much better.

They were the same age, yet Kenshin always seemed so composed, no matter what. …Speaking of which—

"Kenshin, how old are you?" she asked.

"Me? Probably around fifteen," he said, wearing a thoughtful look but answering offhandedly.

Wait—so he joined the Chōshū Domain before he was even fifteen?! He was already fighting in blood-soaked alleys in the dead of night at that age?! That couldn't be right!

"You're really younger than me?!" Kaoru pointed at herself, then glanced at Kenshin. "I'm only seventeen!"

"Right." Kenshin didn't seem fazed by her exaggerated reaction. "You told me earlier your family's from Edo. Was that true?"

"Of course I wasn't lying. We've always lived on the outskirts of Edo." Though to Kaoru, that place had always been called Tokyo.

"So the ones living there now… are your ancestors?"

"Eh? That—"

Ah, now it made sense. Kenshin clearly had no frame of reference for her saying "the eleventh year of Meiji," so he'd just assumed she was from hundreds of years in the future. But in truth, only about a decade separated them. Right now, her parents were still alive and living in Edo with a much younger version of her. Everything here felt foreign, and yet the people and the city that had once been so familiar weren't all that far away after all.

A new idea struck her. If that was the case… could she go find her family? Sure, everything that had happened to her was bizarre, but that didn't matter—her parents were kind people. They'd definitely take her in. If this could be her chance to see them again—people she'd already lost—then maybe staying stuck in the Bakumatsu wasn't such a terrifying prospect after all.

Why not ask Kenshin to help her get to Edo?

But just as she opened her mouth to speak, the headache struck again—sudden and sharper than before. This time it wasn't just pain; it came with a wave of dizziness, and even Kenshin's face blurred in her vision. The words she'd so carefully strung together scattered into fragments before they could leave her lips.

What… is happening to me…?

Seeing her sway unsteadily, Kenshin quickly reached out and grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. He didn't let go until she could stand on her own again.

"Forget it. Don't push yourself. I think I'm starting to understand. It seems… there are things about you I'm not meant to know. …What's wrong?"

Kaoru was crying.

She kept her head lowered. All Kenshin could see was the growing patch of moisture spreading across her collar.

What was happening? Just moments ago, she'd been so cheerful—how had everything changed in the span of just a few words?

Kenshin stood there, at a complete loss, frozen in place, unable to make sense of it.

Kaoru was simply… hurt.

She could feel it — a force beyond her will, something that not only stopped her from revealing anything about herself, but also kept her from getting close to anyone in this era with ties to her. Was she really meant to be left here like this, all alone, without even the comfort of holding on to a memory?

"I'm fine," Kaoru said, wiping away her tears — though they kept spilling stubbornly from the corners of her eyes.

"I just… remembered two people who meant the world to me…"

They've been gone from my life for so long. I really thought… just maybe, I'd get to see them again. But I guess that was just wishful thinking.

Kenshin regretted asking. He must have touched on something deeply painful, and comforting others had never been his strong suit.

He turned it over in his mind for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.

"…Kaoru-dono, why don't you come back to Kohagi-ya with me for now?"

Kaoru looked up, her face still wet with tears. Kenshin had finally chosen to offer her a hand — it eased the pain in her chest, if only a little, though she still found it hard to believe.

"Are you sure I can…?"

"Well, you've already spent two nights there, haven't you?" Kenshin replied. "We'll figure something out later. But for now, you need somewhere to rest, don't you?"

"…And what about after tonight?" Kaoru clutched at her clothes — a reflex, something she always did when she felt uncertain. "I can't keep imposing on you all like this…"

"If you're truly concerned about imposing, you can help out a bit at the inn. But I'll say it again — that place isn't somewhere you can stay long-term. So… just be careful, all right?"

With that, Kenshin turned and started walking toward the mouth of the alley. "I should get going."

…He's saying I can stay by his side, even if it's only for now?

Kaoru's eyes widened slightly as they followed his retreating back. She stood frozen for a few seconds—then lowered her gaze, and quietly followed after him.

***

It was no wonder Kaoru broke down and cried in front of Kenshin. Even the strongest person might not be able to withstand the emotional whiplash she'd just gone through. This past half-day had truly pushed her to her limit. Now that all her efforts and failures had come to a pause, she felt completely wrung out—left with nothing but exhaustion. At this point, all she wanted was to return to Kenshin's room and rest. Everything else could wait.

The fatigue dulled her senses to the point where she couldn't even tell which road they were on anymore. She followed Kenshin blindly, numb and unthinking. Maybe he could sense how drained she was, because he was being unusually attentive. On a lively street, he asked her to wait for a moment by the roadside. When he returned, he was holding a skewer of grilled tofu (miso dengaku*).

"Here," he said.

Kaoru blinked, surprised. But then she remembered—over the past couple of days, since she'd started staying with Kenshin, he'd often taken charge of meals. Maybe he'd just gotten used to it. She took the skewer and bit into it—then paused.

"Huh? This taste… Kyoto people use white miso for grilled skewers? I thought everyone used red miso, like we do back home."

Wait… had she just said something about herself?

Kaoru was startled. So… it wasn't like she couldn't say anything. But then, what exactly could she say? What were the rules?

"Not to your liking?" Kenshin asked.

"Mm… no, it's fine. The sweetness is actually kind of nice." She pushed aside the questions swirling in her head. She really didn't have the energy to figure it all out right now. Better to just enjoy the food. The tofu was chewy and firm—and with every bite, her mood lifted a little more.

She did feel better now. Not quite so hopeless. At the very least, she had a roof over her head, not the open street. And Kenshin was even helping her out. With that kind of support, how could she justify giving up? She had to face this. Be strong. Push forward.

"…Thank you, Kenshin," Kaoru said, the words slipping out in a sudden, heartfelt sigh.

"It's just a little food. Didn't cost much."

"…I wasn't talking about the skewer."

The flow of foot traffic on the street had thinned. Across the road, Kaoru spotted a dengaku stand. With a fan in one hand and a practiced flick of the other, the proprietress flipped the tofu skewers sizzling on the grill, occasionally looking up to chat with customers. After a short while, two men approached the stand—judging by their uniforms, they were government officers. They handed the woman some coins.

Unlike the smiling proprietress and the easygoing customers around her, the two officers looked decidedly grim—completely out of place. Only when they took the steaming skewers from the woman did the tension in their faces begin to ease. After a few bites, they began to grumble loudly.

"How many times is it this month? Another early morning cleanup call—and we've still got plenty to do when we get back."

"Those Chōshū lunatics have been going all-in with their so-called 'heaven's justice (天诛)' lately. Four dead just a few days ago, and three more last night. When is someone finally going to rein them in…"

They continued complaining, going on to say how the women called in to identify the bodies had cried so hard they had to be dragged away. The proprietress didn't join in. She just kept flipping the tofu in silence.

Three more people… killed last night?

Kaoru perked up at the word Chōshū, and turned to look at Kenshin in confusion. But he didn't respond. What she saw instead took her breath away—his eyes had gone cold and hollow, as if the light in them had been extinguished. His whole being seemed distant now, as though he'd stepped into another world entirely.

That inhuman, deadly stillness vanished in an instant, so quickly she almost doubted she'd seen it at all.

—But she had seen that look before. On her very first night in Bakumatsu Kyoto.

"Now that you've finished eating, let's get moving," Kenshin said abruptly.

"Kenshin… what were they talking about? What's 'heaven's justice' supposed to mean?"

"It's better if you don't know."

"There it is again—that line. You said the exact same thing last night."

But Kenshin said no more. He simply turned and started walking. With no choice, Kaoru tossed her empty skewer and hurried after him, still unable to shake the unease gnawing at her.

She had a vague feeling that whatever those two officers were talking about—Kenshin had something to do with it. After all, he was from Chōshū. It stood to reason he'd know things. Come to think of it, she still had no idea what exactly Kenshin did here in Kyoto. He never let her ask too much.

Once they'd left the street behind, Kaoru hesitantly asked another question.

"Did… someone get killed nearby?"

Kenshin didn't deny it. "People are killed in Kyoto every day. As long as this civil war drags on, that won't change."

"But… we all live in the same country. Why would it ever come to a war like this?"

She expected him to dodge the question again. To her surprise, Kenshin didn't respond with another "You don't need to know" this time.

"It's not an easy thing to explain. But if I had to put it simply—people can't agree on how this country should move forward."

"Oh…" Kaoru recalled the officers describing grieving widows, crying so hard they had to be dragged away. Her heart ached for the dead. "But… do they really have to kill each other over it? Isn't there any other way?"

"No. If no one's willing to let go of what they believe in, then there's no way to settle things without bloodshed," Kenshin said slowly. "In truth, it's not just Shogunate versus anti-Shogunate. Sometimes the worst fighting happens within the same side."

"I see…" Kaoru's voice was quiet and heavy with sadness.

Was that really the way it had to be?

Kaoru's sigh came from a place of sorrow for the lives lost. She didn't dwell on it deeply—but Kenshin did. Even without looking at her, he could picture those clear, open eyes of hers tinged with melancholy. That alone deepened the bitterness twisting inside him.

He'd answered with care, but the tangle of unrest and doubt in his heart was his alone to carry. And as he finished speaking, he realised—those words weren't just for Kaoru's sake. He'd needed to let them out, too. The truth was, he was wavering. Even now, a few stray comments from a pair of strangers, a single glance from Kaoru… it was enough to shake the resolve he thought unshakable.

The truth was—he no longer knew how to feel about what he was doing.

Killing.

Using the swordsmanship of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū to eliminate obstacles in the path of a new era.

He really had gotten soft. Even though he'd always known the burden he carried—still…

The officers had mentioned four more people were killed last night. Kaoru clearly hadn't let it go. Of course, Kenshin couldn't tell her those deaths were his doing. The mission he carried out last night was an assassination—a so-called "heaven's justice."

It wasn't just that the work was classified. There was something more. Kaoru was a pure and kind soul. People like her shouldn't be made to see the ugliest truths of this era.

Kenshin made up his mind: he wouldn't talk about these things with her again.

At that moment, a thought struck him—should he drown his thoughts in sake again? But no… that probably wasn't necessary. The last time he tried, it had only made him more restless. And to top it off, two drunken thugs had barged into the izakaya and started harassing the woman seated behind him. He'd had to intervene—and afterward, staying any longer had been out of the question.

Better to leave it be.

Chapter Text

On the fifth day of Kaoru's stay at Kohagi-ya, it also happened to be the day Iizuka was scheduled to meet with Yaminobu as usual. Kenshin hadn't made many friends in Kyoto—really, the only person he interacted with regularly was Iizuka. He would never have imagined that the one betraying him to the enemy was none other than Iizuka himself.

Iizuka's betrayal began six months prior, right around the time the Bakufu finally took notice of Battōsai's presence. High-ranking officials were being assassinated one after another, each crime scene marked by a letter of condemnation and sword wounds unmistakably inflicted by the same killer. Even with the help of skilled swordsmen brought in to investigate, the most they could conclude was that the assailant used techniques from an unknown school. That left the authorities with no trail to follow.

It was then that Yaminobu, a major ninja organisation under the direct command of the Bakufu and led by Tatsumi, took over the task of dealing with the mysterious assassin. The message from the Shogunate was clear: find this man and eliminate him by any means necessary.

Amid this growing tension, Iizuka sensed an opportunity. His superior, Katsura Kogorō, much like his mentor Yoshida Shōin, was an idealist who believed in the cause of "righteous madness." But Iizuka had never placed any faith in ideology. With his keen reading of the shifting political tides, he had already concluded that from here on out, the only thing worth trusting was money—or as the foreigners called it, "capital." And so, he decided to leverage his intelligence resources and strike a deal with the Bakufu. He knew they were desperate to identify and eliminate Battōsai. All he had to do was sell them the name—for the right price.

It was a dangerous gamble, one that took guts—and a willingness to risk his life. In the end, Iizuka lost the bet—and, well, his life. Once his betrayal was exposed, he fled with the money but was assassinated en route by men sent by Katsura Kogorō. According to the coroner's report, they recovered a coin pouch from his chest containing more than a dozen oban gold coins. How exactly he made contact with the Bakufu, or what else he sold them, remained a mystery.

But back to the present. Thanks to Iizuka's treason, Tatsumi learned the true identity of the mysterious assassin. Not long afterward, Yaminobu devised a plan—to send a female spy to get close to Battōsai and turn her into his weakness. A classic honey trap. Iizuka, naturally, was more than happy to help, and provided even more intel to move the scheme forward.

But just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, a complication arose. And now Iizuka had no choice but to report the matter to Tatsumi.

As soon as he stepped inside, he found Tatsumi watching him with arms crossed.

"Good timing," Tatsumi said. "I was just about to ask—what's the status on the Yukishiro girl stationed in Edo? It's been several days now. Any progress?"

"About that…" Iizuka said, looking sheepish. "That's what I came to talk about."

Tatsumi snorted. "Judging from your face, it can't be anything good."

"There's been a development," Iizuka confessed, steeling himself. "Yukishiro Tomoe won't be getting into Kohagi-ya anytime soon."

"Oh?"

Iizuka dropped himself onto a floor cushion. "Just the day before she was supposed to head to that izakaya, Battōsai suddenly brought a woman back with him. Not only that—he hasn't gone drinking since. We didn't see this coming at all."

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. The room went cold with the sharp chill of killing intent.

"A woman…? What kind of woman?"

"She looks around sixteen or seventeen. Kind of clueless. Goes by the name Kamiya. Probably the daughter of some samurai family. She's been staying at his place ever since, and a few days ago she even started helping out around the inn. Far as I can tell, she's not leaving."

"Well, isn't this a fine mess. First Murakami's ambush fails and gets him killed, then our spy can't even make her move—someone else already beat her to the spot."

Iizuka chimed in, "We can't keep going like this. What do you want to do next? Should we find a way to get rid of that troublesome girl?"

"Don't be stupid," Tatsumi snapped. "Killing her now won't fix anything. If Battōsai really brought her back because he's emotionally attached, all you'll do by killing her is make sure he never brings another woman home again. That means Yukishiro Tomoe still can't proceed with the original plan."

"Damn. This is turning into a headache." Iizuka looked genuinely troubled, shaking his head. If even Tatsumi was saying this, then their original plan had all but collapsed. After everything they'd set in motion, were they really going to have to start over?

"Let me think… wait. What did Katsura Kogorō say about all this?"

"He didn't object to Battōsai keeping a woman, at least not publicly," Iizuka said, "but that same day he came to me in private and asked for a background check on Kamiya Kaoru. Told me to keep an eye on her and report anything suspicious."

"As expected—Katsura's still sharp. That tells me even if we manage to send in Yukishiro Tomoe, they'll be watching her closely. And you? Did you find anything on Kamiya yet?"

"She only just started coming out of Battōsai's room a few days ago. There's no way I could've dug anything up that fast. I'll look into her more when I get back."

Tatsumi tapped his fingers, deep in thought. "In that case, we might as well seize the opportunity she's handed us."

"Opportunity? What do you mean?"

"Nothing for you to worry about yet. I still need to think it through. You go back for now," Tatsumi waved a hand dismissively. "Keep a close eye on Battōsai and that girl. As for Tomoe, tell her there's been a change of plans. She's to stay put and await further instructions."

"All right. I'll take my leave then. I'll be waiting on your word." Iizuka got to his feet, dusted himself off, and made for the door. He couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for Kamiya Kaoru. She was as good as done for. Tatsumi hadn't ordered her death yet, but once that old fox had a use for someone, survival was rarely part of the deal.

Kaoru really was a sweet girl—pretty, kind, innocent. Compared to someone like Yukishiro Tomoe, she looked like an easier pawn to manipulate. Then again, if she ended up dead someday… well, that'd be that. It'd be no one's fault but her own. Of all the men in the world, why'd she have to fall for Battōsai? Getting involved with someone like him—a Hitokiri—was like throwing yourself into a pit of vipers. Did she even realise what kind of people surrounded a man like that?

Yukishiro Tomoe, now—she was something else. She'd sniffed out the truth behind her fiancé's death, even though the Bakufu had buried it, and managed to align herself with a gang of assassins—men who could've ended her in an instant—just to go after the ones who took everything from her. Iizuka had always suspected she didn't trust the Yaminobu at all—and she certainly knew both Tatsumi and Katsura were ruthless men. But revenge had hollowed her out. She didn't care about consequences anymore. The Yaminobu were using her, sure—but she was using them right back. She was bold. Far too bold for an ordinary woman.

Even so, Iizuka didn't think she'd survive this. Knowing your enemies didn't mean you could outplay them. Otherwise, she wouldn't have fallen into Tatsumi's trap in the first place. She probably had no idea he only saw her as bait—and that once she'd served her purpose, a blade in the dark would be waiting to silence her. Oh, and Enishi too. No way Tatsumi would leave loose ends like that. Those two would die together.

And if Tomoe had such little hope of survival, what chance did a naive, harmless girl like Kamiya Kaoru have? Tomoe narrowly escaped death—only for Kaoru to step in as the next sacrificial lamb. Neither of them deserved this. But that didn't matter. The Bakufu wanted to win. The Chōshū wanted to win. Iizuka wanted money. And the table was full of Kaorus and Tomoes—just pawns to be spent.

Kamiya Kaoru, Kamiya Kaoru… sigh. From here on out, you're on your own.

***

Iizuka returned just in time for dinner. The "sacrificial lamb" who had been sold out was serving food to the guests. As soon as she saw him, she cheerfully waved him over.

"Iizuka-san, you're back! Come on, sit down and eat!"

"Oh! Since Kaoru-san is inviting me, I'd be rude to say no!"

Iizuka found an empty table and sat down, ready to enjoy the service. As soon as Kaoru finished dishing out rice for Katagai, she came over and handed Iizuka a fresh bowl of white rice.

"Who hasn't gotten their rice yet?"

Kaoru looked up and asked in a clear, lively voice. No sooner had she spoken than four or five hands shot up around the room.

"Me!"

"Over here!"

"I haven't!"

"Can I get another bowl?"

"All right, no need to rush—one at a time!" Kaoru called out as she took a quick headcount, then bent down and got back to work. The smile never left her face.

She looked happy—really happy. Satisfied, even. Kenshin was there too, holding his own bowl and watching from the side, quietly glad for her.

Kaoru-dono's back to her old self… That's good.

Just as Iizuka had reported, Kaoru was now working part-time at Kohagi-ya. It had actually been Kenshin's idea, though he hadn't expected her to take it seriously. But Kaoru insisted she couldn't just live off someone else's generosity. She had to find a way to contribute.

In Kenshin's eyes, it would've been enough if she just took care of herself—he didn't expect anything more. But since she was determined, he had taken her to speak with the landlady.

That was how Kaoru became a helper at the inn. She wasn't the best cook, but when it came to cleaning and other chores, she was more than capable. The landlady had been more than happy to have her. Over the past couple of days, Kaoru had been running up and down the inn nonstop—delivering meals, clearing dishes, cleaning rooms. She'd also made friends with the guests and maids alike, winning everyone over. Seeing her grow more cheerful day by day made Kenshin feel at ease. Being cooped up in her room before had clearly stifled her. She was meant to be out in the world—lively and sociable, always connecting with people.

The Chōshū men, in particular, had taken a liking to her. Kaoru was warm and friendly, always smiling no matter who she spoke to. She was thoughtful, too—always checking in on others. Her presence had added a welcome warmth to their often tense daily lives.

Still… who knew how long this fragile peace would last? If Kohagi-ya were ever compromised, and Kaoru hadn't yet found a way back home—what then? What would they do with her?

"Kenshin! Hey, Kenshin!"

He snapped out of his thoughts. Kaoru was standing there with the rice ladle in hand, smiling.

"Want a little more?"

"Ah… sure. Thank you."

"Oh, come on—no need to be so formal with me. Here you go. You should focus on eating while we're eating, not zoning out."

"You're right."

What Kenshin probably didn't realize was just how rare his calm, gentle expression appeared to others. Though they all lived together at Kohagi-ya, most of the others barely spoke to the quiet, distant young man. So it came as a bit of a surprise—Himura, it turned out, could have feelings like any ordinary boy. He could develop affection for a girl. More than that, he could respond to someone's care with a quiet tenderness of his own.

That discovery made others start talking to him a little more.

"Himura, your girlfriend's really sweet to you, huh?" someone called out boldly.

Another chimed in right away, "You're always so distant, Himura, but somehow you ended up with a cheerful girl like her. You'd better not take her for granted!"

Kaoru turned bright red and mumbled, "Stop it…"

Kenshin, for his part, didn't show much of a reaction. His eyes widened just slightly—he clearly wasn't used to being the center of attention—but he didn't seem to mind it, either. He hadn't forgotten that, in front of others, they were pretending to be a couple to protect Kaoru's identity. Still, the concern in those teasing voices, and Kaoru's genuine kindness, had felt entirely real.

In the end, Kenshin said nothing.

"Kaoru-san!" Iizuka, watching the exchange with amusement, joined in the conversation. "Where are you from? Your accent's really different from Omori's—she's local Kyoto."

The "Omori" he referred to was another kitchen helper at Kohagi-ya, around Kaoru's age. The two had hit it off right away. Just yesterday, after their shift, Omori had even taken Kaoru out shopping. Thanks to her kindness, Kaoru was becoming more familiar with the nearby streets and shops.

Kenshin had expected someone might ask about Kaoru's origins, so they'd prepared a cover story. Kaoru immediately put on a troubled expression.

"Actually… I don't really remember. I think I might have lost my memory."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Kenshin smoothly picked up the explanation. "The night I brought her back, there was some trouble in town. She got caught up in it. She wasn't hurt, thankfully, but she fainted from the shock. When she came to, she couldn't remember much about herself."

"That's right. Every time I try to recall things, I get a headache. I can't even remember where my home is. I thought I'd end up on the street… I'm really lucky Kenshin took me in."

That part about the headaches was actually true. Kaoru delivered the line without the slightest hesitation, then glanced over at Kenshin. Seeing her look at him so gently, using that affectionate "Kenshin" to address him, everyone assumed she'd fallen for him out of gratitude for saving her.

"Did you take Kaoru-san to see a doctor?" Iizuka asked.

"It was exactly for that reason that I took her out two days ago," Kenshin said seriously. "The doctor advised rest."

"Well, nothing to be done then! Let's hope Kaoru-san makes a full recovery soon."

With no concrete information to go on, Iizuka—who had been trying to dig into Kamiya Kaoru's background—found himself at a dead end. Just then, the landlady came out from the back kitchen.

"Kaoru! When you're done here, come see me—I need you and Omori to run an errand."

Chapter Text

Iizuka, still unwilling to give up, wanted to try another way of prying. But since the man himself had been called away, he had no choice but to let it drop for now. Even Kenshin only assumed he'd been making small talk with the newcomer; Kaoru, all the more unaware, never realised she had narrowly escaped some ill-intentioned probing, and quickly put it out of mind.

The landlady needed someone to run an errand to the bedding supplier. Two quilts had been ruined, and the compensation from the guests had to be delivered before new ones could be borrowed. Since Omori couldn't possibly carry them back alone, Kaoru was told to go along and help.

Omori was the first friend Kaoru had made at Kohagi-ya. She had come a year and a half earlier and was two years older, though her small stature made it impossible to tell. Her shy, retiring nature kept her from standing out, but Kaoru had quickly discovered that she was an easy girl to get along with.

Although Kaoru's feet followed Omori out the door, her thoughts lingered with Kenshin. Once the initial commotion had settled, she realised he was the strangest person she'd ever met—his temperament, his habits, everything about him set him apart. Her curiosity was steadily winning out, but the upbringing she'd received warned her never to pry into other people's affairs. And so Kaoru could only stew in silence, staring off in frustration as she puzzled over him. Her conflicted expression did not escape Omori's notice.

"Kaoru, it looks like you've got something you want to ask."

"Uh—you saw through me."

Kaoru decided she might as well come out with it.

"Kenshin seems so distant from everyone. He hasn't always been that way, has he?"

"Kenshin…?"

To Kaoru's surprise, Omori looked utterly blank, as if she were hearing those two syllables for the first time.

What on earth…? Kaoru blinked in confusion. Omori didn't even know who she meant? Before she could explain, Omori suddenly caught on.

"Oh! You mean your boyfriend, right?"

Boyfriend again?! Kaoru's fist clenched, and she forced out a stiff reply.

"Uh… yeah—right."

Still, she felt uncomfortably out of sorts. She just couldn't get used to everyone automatically treating her and Kenshin as a pair. By now she understood better than anyone why Kenshin himself found it so exasperating. Honestly, how long was this going to keep up?

And besides, sure, Kenshin was a good man—but no way was she going to go for someone so quiet and aloof! Her type was supposed to be someone gentle, thoughtful, the kind of person who made you want to lean on them, like…

"Kaoru, your face is turning red," Omori whispered.

Ugh, no, no! Stop it, no more nonsense.

"Ahahaha, look at me—my imagination's running away again!" Kaoru groaned inwardly, wishing she could punch herself for letting that old bad habit get the better of her.

Omori tactfully ignored Kaoru's overblown reaction meant to cover her embarrassment. "As for Himura… if I had to say, I guess he's closer to Iizuka than anyone. He really doesn't mix much with the others."

"So little that after a whole year you still don't know his full name?"

"Well, he never talks about himself," Omori admitted with a sheepish smile. "So I just followed everyone else and called him 'Himura.' A couple of times they called him something like Himura-something-…sai, but I can't remember. Did he ever tell you?"

"No, he's never said. But that doesn't matter. From the way you put it, though, his swordsmanship must be impressive."

Kaoru sighed. Kenshin had to be highly skilled—after all, back in the Bakumatsu it was common to add a '-sai' title to the names of true masters. The thought stirred her curiosity, and she found herself wanting to see his swordsmanship with her own eyes.

Omori didn't quite follow Kaoru's reasoning, but she went along anyway. "Himura must be important to them, right? He was personally brought here by Katsura-san a year ago. But I can't shake the feeling… whenever the others call him by that '-sai' name, they almost seem afraid of him."

Kaoru frowned. "That can't be right. Aren't they supposed to be comrades?"

Omori scratched her cheek, clearly at a loss—she was only a servant girl, after all. Seeing her troubled, Kaoru switched tack.

"Then, Omori-san, do you ever find Kenshin frightening?"

Omori shook her head quickly.

"One time someone gave me a hard time, and it was Himura who stepped in. Later, when I thanked him, he just said, 'Think nothing of it.' I believe he's a very good person."

Kaoru smiled in relief. "Well, there you go."

Kenshin. What sort of past did he carry, that he lived so solitary a life—even drawing fear from those who should have been his allies? Perhaps no one knew. But being unable to turn away from someone in need—that was the Kenshin she knew. Whatever people might think of him now, one day his gentle nature would be recognized.

"Omori-san, tell me more about Kenshin," Kaoru said earnestly, with a smile. "You just mentioned he came here a year ago, didn't you?"

***

Omori hadn't spelled it out, but the "Katsura-san" who brought Kenshin here must have been none other than Katsura Kogorō—one of the Three Great Nobles of the Meiji Restoration and a central figure of the Chōshū Domain's Ishin Shishi—the very same name Kaoru had overheard in Kenshin's conversations with Iizuka. Which meant that Kenshin was under Katsura's command.

Among the Ishin Shishi, Katsura's name came up often, though it was rare to actually see him at Kohagi-ya. A year ago, by chance, he had appeared—bringing Kenshin with him. Omori recalled that she had been working in the kitchen when the landlady suddenly called her upstairs to tidy a room.

"As I stepped out, I saw Katsura-san with a child standing beside him. On my way up, I even heard him say, 'I'll be leaving Himura in your care from now on.'"

"A child? What was he like?" Kaoru couldn't help asking.

"Well… his hair was much shorter than it is now, but his height hasn't really changed. Even back then, he hardly spoke a word, and I never once saw him smile."

So even at fourteen, Kenshin had been little different—always with that solemn, unsmiling face, shrouded in silence. Kaoru had long since given up expecting to see him smile before she left. Maybe Kenshin was simply someone born without the habit of smiling.

Omori went on: "And he really had this way of staring straight into people's eyes. At first I found it so uncomfortable. When I went to tell him his room was ready, he just looked at me like that. I thought maybe he hadn't heard me, so I was about to repeat myself—then all of a sudden he just said 'thank you' and went upstairs. I kept wondering all day if I had something on my face…"

At once, an all-too-familiar image rose in Kaoru's mind. Kenshin did have that habit—looking at people so directly it made him seem sharper than he really was. But after spending so many days around him, she had come to realise one thing.

"Well, the truth is, Kenshin's a little… um…" Kaoru searched for the word, then said at last, "scatterbrained."

"…Huh?"

"So he was probably just spacing out at you, that's all."

That, at least, was Kaoru's conclusion.

"……"

Omori froze, taking a long moment before letting out a sigh.

"I really think Himura's an unusual child. I can't make sense of him at all, or what he does with his time. A whole year has gone by, and while he's grown a little more mature-looking, the distance around him has only deepened."

Omori went on to recount a handful of anecdotes about Kenshin. In truth, she hadn't had much contact with him—mostly just crossing paths under the same roof. Still, it was clear that while reserved, Kenshin was invariably polite in his dealings with others. Yet in every episode she described, the boy remained solitary. It seemed he had never really made any friends here.

Only Iizuka seemed to approach him with any regularity, sometimes even teasing him openly in front of the others.

But when the subject turned to just what Iizuka teased him about, Omori faltered. Kaoru hardly needed to ask—clearly, it had been jokes about matters between men and women, the sort that left Omori too flustered to repeat. Poor girl—it really wasn't fair to put her in that position.

Well-raised as she was, Kaoru couldn't stand it when people flouted decency.

"Iizuka may be all right otherwise, but to carry on so shamelessly in front of everyone—honestly, it's detestable!"

Omori nodded. "Mm. I think it's a bit much too. Himura never seemed to appreciate it."

From her account, Kenshin clearly despised such behavior. Yet the other men treated it like a favorite pastime, precisely because he would give the rarest of reactions, sometimes even betraying himself with an unmistakable expression—well, anger, what else could it be?

"Did Kenshin ever hit Iizuka over it?"

"No, but when Himura's truly pushed, he'll—"

Omori had meant to explain that Himura was always measured: even when angered, he never actually did anything to Iizuka. And the moment he so much as reached for his sword, no one dared provoke him further. But the words caught in her throat.

"Oh! That's it. 'Battōsai'… they called Himura 'Battōsai.'"

She had only mentioned it in passing, never imagining the shock it would bring. Kaoru faltered mid-step, her heart and breath stalling as memories struck like lightning—until she cried out the fearsome name that had already become legend in the Meiji era:

"Hitokiri Battōsai!"

"Kaoru? What's wrong?" Omori turned back, puzzled.

Oh no! Kaoru jolted back to her senses, hastily clapping a hand over her mouth. Kenshin didn't want his identity exposed—he'd said so himself. She should never have blurted that out in such a crowded place!

Her heart pounded wildly as she prayed that her slip wouldn't cause trouble. But already, she could feel several pairs of eyes settling on her. A quick glance around confirmed it—under the blinding white sunlight, every direction she turned, there were strangers watching with curious looks. Fortunately, they were only ordinary townsfolk, and their interest soon faded.

All but one.

A lone samurai in plain clothing leaned against the wall, likely a rōnin. His head was bowed, the brim of his straw hat concealing the upper half of his face. He hadn't stirred, giving no sign he had noticed anything at all.

Kaoru let out a shaky breath, firmly warning herself to be more cautious from now on. When she turned back, she met Omori's worried eyes and quickly forced a smile.

"Sorry—I reacted too strongly and made you worry. Let's get going."

"You're sweating… are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine! Just suddenly remembered something, that's all. Really, it's nothing."

With that, Kaoru set off at once, making it clear she had no wish to linger. Omori, still bewildered, could only follow without pressing further.

Just before the two girls' figures disappeared from sight, the silent rōnin suddenly lifted his head, fixing his gaze on the direction they had gone. Then he set off after them.

***

The harder Kaoru tried to calm herself, the less she could. The aftershocks of her racing heartbeat hadn't faded, and one question after another kept crowding in, tangling her thoughts into knots.

Kenshin was… the Battōsai?

The Hitokiri Battōsai was real? Only a short while ago, she had dismissed him as an exaggerated legend, something to take half-seriously at best. And yet, in a situation where he should have silenced her to protect himself, Kenshin had spared her life. How could that same man be guilty of butchering innocents on the street?

Kaoru began to wonder if the culprit wasn't an impostor—someone who had simply stolen the Battōsai's name. After all, just saying "Battōsai" was enough to make people tremble. Who would bother to check any deeper?

But… it was the "but" she couldn't let herself think about.

During the turbulence of the Bakumatsu, there had indeed been a man known as the Hitokiri Battōsai: first an assassin for the Ishin Shishi, cutting down more than a hundred men, and later a demon on the battlefield whose blade carved a path to the new Meiji era.

That, in a handful of lines, was the extent of what Kaoru knew. And reading those lines again now sent a chill through her. She had heard the stories countless times, but never once had she truly thought about what the name "Hitokiri Battōsai" signified. Battōsai was strong—so strong he had used an overwhelming, irresistible force to place one group of men on the victor's seat. But then?

He was terrifying. Because with that same blade, he had mercilessly erased another group of men from existence.

The Hitokiri Battōsai was a war machine forged in the Bakumatsu.

And if that was true… then Kenshin—

***

"!!"

The thought that suddenly flashed through Kaoru's mind made her jump. She looked up, startled to realise she'd been drifting off for quite some time—so long she hadn't even noticed that the street around her had completely changed.

The sun still shone brightly, laughter and chatter still rang in her ears, and yet a chill had already stolen quietly into her bones.

So unfamiliar—everything felt so unfamiliar it frightened her.

This wasn't the place where she had spent the past sixteen years.

***

"…Kaoru? Kaoru."

It wasn't until she heard Omori's gentle voice that Kaoru found her bearings again. Omori held her by the shoulder to stop her, then touched her forehead, checking to see if she was ill.

"You've seemed out of it for a while. Let's finish what we came for and head back so you can rest."

Her friend's concern steadied her a little. Not wanting to cause trouble, Kaoru pulled herself together and followed Omori to take care of their errand. The rental shop the landlady had sent them to was just a short walk down the street. But when they arrived, the clerk told them that someone from Shimabara had come by yesterday and taken everything that was left, so they would have to come back in a few days.

Unwilling as they were, Kaoru and Omori had no choice but to turn back empty-handed.

After all that effort, not a single thing had gone right. For Kaoru especially—the good mood she'd carried these past two days had unravelled in less than an hour. Yet she could hardly spare any thought for her own tangled feelings.

When it came to Kenshin, perhaps she did harbor a bit of selfishness. She should accept the truth, and yet…

She couldn't bring herself to. She couldn't bring herself to believe that the gentle, kind boy who had been her support in her most helpless moment—that such a good person could be the Hitokiri Battōsai.