#kenkao

Emi wasn’t informed that she could reach out by Kenshin in the last scene.

…Yeah. You might want to sit down for this update. Also on FF.netandAO3, if you prefer.

Chapter 20: Darkness

It was no surprise that they’d all slept in. By the time everyone was awake, it was noon. Koshijiro grilled the fish for their meal, and fortunately, none of the pieces burned.

Kaoru took the platter, offering a smile. “Thank you, Otou-san. And wow, it all looks good.”

He followed her to the dojo, where the larger space was more suitable for eating together. “How are the others?”

“Yahiko’s finishing up his last round of drills, so Tsubame’s waiting for him. Megumi and I just woke up Sano. And Kenshin should be washing his face.”

“Did he seem alright?”

Her expression was somber. “Quiet. He didn’t want to eat at first, he said he hasn’t been hungry since last night. But Megumi told him to have a little and I agreed. I’ll check on him soon.”

However, Himura was on time, settling into their circle. He was definitely subdued, his hands disappearing into his sleeves. His portions were smaller than usual, but it wasn’t mentioned.

Yahiko was the last to arrive, sweat pouring down his face, and he ate with a manic energy. He demanded seconds, thirds, even a fourth helping. It seemed that as soon as his bowl was refilled, it was empty again. “More, more!”

Koshijiro was concerned he would choke, but Kaoru stopped him. “Would you slow down? I’m not giving you any more unless you chew every bite ten times.”

Even Tsubame was staring with a mix of awe and alarm. Her chopsticks were suspended in midair, as she noted. “He’s really eating a lot.”

Takani dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin. “The source of health is one’s diet, and since he’s been exercising, it’s expected that his appetite’s increased.”

The only person who could match him was Sagara, and he was also affected by the current atmosphere. He was primarily focused on his own lunch, though he had to use a spoon with his left hand. When Takani reminded him about his examination, he merely shrugged. “Sure.” He seemed serious, probably thinking about the time they had left and the certain battle ahead.

Koshijiro glanced at his daughter, who was retrieving another serving for Yahiko. She sighed. “Geez, at this rate, we won’t have leftovers.”

“Kaoru-dono.” Himura held up his bowl, with a slight smile. He looked more like himself. “Some more for this one too, please.”

Kaoru beamed. “Of course!”

Koshijiro was sitting between them, but he didn’t have time to set down his chopsticks before they both reached in front of him. He swallowed, and the bowl was already passed to Kaoru. Well…he’d let it slide. There were more important things to worry about.

Afterwards, the dishes were scraped clean and stacked neatly. Sagara pounded his chest, belching. “Phew, that was good. The situation’s depressing, but I feel better now.”

Yahiko had overeaten and laid on the tatami in a spread-eagled fashion, his stomach bulging slightly. Koshijiro watched him closely, to ensure that he wasn’t going to be sick. “We can talk about Jinchuu, and what we need to accomplish.”

Tsubame murmured. “I hope nothing bad happens. Is fighting the only option? We can’t talk it out?”

Takani answered her. “I understand how you feel, but it’s not possible. Yukishiro Enishi made it clear that he won’t negotiate, and the only person who he could listen to is Tomoe-san. Her words might stop him, but the dead don’t speak.”

“Tomoe-san’s words…” Kaoru reiterated, and then, her eyes lit in sudden inspiration. “Kenshin! Where is Tomoe-san’s diary?!”

“The diary was left at the temple where her grave is, in Kyoto.”

“Kyoto. But-” She stopped, and Koshijiro gently encouraged her.

“What were you thinking of?”

“Her diary is the only proof, right? If Yukishiro Enishi reads it and gets that she didn’t hold a grudge against Kenshin, then maybe…it could stop him. But none of us can leave now.” She was thinking aloud. “So, what if I can write a letter to Misao and ask her to find it?”

“It’s a sound idea.” Koshijiro nodded. “Send her a telegram, it would be faster.”

“And tell her to bring Aoshi too. He’d be a strong ally.” Sagara added.

“This would work, if they arrive in ten days.” Himura was cautious as ever. “This one will help you write the telegram, to provide directions to the temple.”

“Oh, thank you.” Kaoru’s smile was warm, and she stood, brushing herself off. “Let’s go, there’s no time to waste!”

Koshijiro went along too, and together, the three of them kept a brisk pace through the city. It was sunny and temperate, but Koshijiro couldn’t find any pleasure in it. Already, they’d lost half of today. They had the advantage of home terrain, but they were severely lacking in information. He asked. “What does Yukishiro Enishi look like? Could you describe him, Himura-san?”

“Taller than this one, but that isn’t unusual. He’s about twenty-four years old, though he looks older, and he wears spectacles at the end of his nose. However, his hair is pure white. That is the most distinctive feature he has, and most likely, he’ll stay out of sight.”

“Yes, but anything is helpful. Perhaps, the assistant chief inspector could ask for specific reports from Shanghai as well. It would be good to know about his past deeds. He already did his research in targeting our friends. The fights were draws, but unless we gain meaningful information about any of these individuals, we are still on the defensive in this war.”

“And in this war, you’re definitely our tactician.” Kaoru wryly remarked. “But you’re right, Otou-san. We have to do all we can in these ten days, to protect our king. That’s you, Kenshin. Should we clear the dojo for you?”

“No. This one does not need the dojo to train.” From his phrasing, it seemed like he already an idea of how to prepare for the battle. “And the dojo is for teaching. How many repetitions must Yahiko perform, before you will teach Hadome?”

“Seven thousand more! I increased the limit. He might hate me for it, but he has to compress years of work in these few days. If something goes wrong…he can rely on practice. His body will remember how to act if he’s ever in danger.” By now, they had reached the telegram office.

“That is certainly true. Please continue to look after him, Kaoru-dono.” He quietly said and opened the door for her.

“Of course. He’s the only student I’ve got.” Her gaze softened. “And Kenshin, you’re…um, never mind!” She hurried into the building, suddenly embarrassed. Himura stared after her, before jolting and motioning for Koshijiro to go ahead.

Walking past, Koshijiro stole a quick glance at his expression. If he had to name it, Himura actually seemed…disappointed? Interesting.

The telegram was longer than expected, given the amount of detail. When it was finished, it was very likely that Makimachi and Shinomori would receive the message tomorrow. But they worked fast, Kaoru insisted. “The Oniwabanshuu tread lightly, so I believe they’ll be here soon. Misao will probably leap over the gate one morning.”

And so, the telegram was sent to Kyoto. Hopefully, their side wouldn’t run into any issues.

***

On his next workday, Koshijiro brought Himura with him to the station. “It would only be fair to inform Saito, considering that Yukishiro is the culprit we’ve been searching for. You don’t have to tell him everything, and if he presses, I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.” Genuine relief was in his eyes.

Fortunately, Saito didn’t ask the reason for Yukishiro’s vendetta, and he probably didn’t care. He didn’t speak throughout Himura’s brief summary, his expression impassive. At the end, he only stated. “I’ll relay Yukishiro’s name to the law enforcement in Shanghai. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already has a record. Now, you have to train. Kamiya and I will take care of everything else.”

Himura was surprised. “That is very kind of you.”

“This isn’t kindness.” Saito’s lip curled. “It’s pragmatism. What is this, day three of ten? The deadline isn’t a concession by Yukishiro; his group is plotting something. Otherwise, they would have attacked you sooner. No, they’re buying time for themselves as well. The investigation is still ongoing, and that’s our work. Don’t concern yourself with police business, so get out.” He brusquely dismissed Himura, who inclined his head.

“This one expects to hear an update. Kamiya-dono, see you at home.”

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

“Before sunset. This one promises.”

Koshijiro nodded, and after Himura left, he turned once more to Saito. “I understand you wanted him to prepare for the fight, but that isn’t an excuse for rudeness.”

“And you’ve forgotten that I have my own score to settle with Battousai. Regardless of the common enemy we share, we are not friends.” He changed the subject, grabbing a stack of papers. “Speaking of which, there is some news. We’ve analyzed the costume. It was made from human skin, and while the assumption is that the sources were already dead, there is no guarantee.”

It was a good thing that Sagara didn’t climb into it. “At least, that kind of work is rare. Should we look into grave diggers?”

“The costume’s parts were cured like leather, and mostly repurposed. None of it was recent.”

“But this was left behind in the first place, and Gein didn’t particularly care if it was caught in the explosion. Another must exist.” Multiples, perhaps, but that was an ugly thought.

“If you want to search every cemetery, be my guest. Sawagejo’s traveling back from Yokohama today, and I’ll hear his report before moving out.”

He could have mentioned that earlier, but Koshijiro suppressed his irritation. “Do you know when he’ll be here?”

And at that moment, there was a knock on the door, before Sawagejo barged in anyway. His timing couldn’t have been better. After exchanging perfunctory greetings, he collapsed into a chair. “Well, I have good news and bad news. I followed the trail in Yokohama to a mansion that was just rented out. The bad news is that it’s heavily guarded, I couldn’t find a way in without alerting the people inside. But the good news is that I did find a link to a Shanghai crime syndicate. I interrogated a weakling who was delivering a message, and he said that the boss goes by Baihu, or Byakko in Japanese. ‘The White Tiger’ was originally from Japan, but he eventually worked his way up the ranks, selling weapons on the black market. Apparently, he’s over here for ‘personal business’. So, he’s probably behind everything.”

“What was the message?” Saito inquired.

“It’s the route of a supply ship. On the train, I was trying to figure out if there’s anything hidden, but I give up.” He reached into his shirt and tossed over an envelope.

Saito laid gloved fingers upon it, pulling it towards him. “And the weakling?”

“Turned over to the Yokohama police. So, what now?”

“Continue your surveillance on the balloons.”

“More legwork, huh?” He grumbled.

“Not for much longer. We’re going to raid the warehouse. My original plan was three nights from now, but I’ll push it another two, given the new information. Less time for the other side to recover.” His foreboding smile was all teeth. The wolf, baring his fangs. “Kamiya, you’ll join us. If your rookies are willing, let them join; it’ll be a learning experience for them. And of course, anyone from the dojo who’s available to fight. Once the details are finalized, you’ll be informed.”

Koshijiro nodded. “Thank you. If I hear about grave diggers, I’ll let you know.”

“Stubborn as ever.” But Saito said this without malice, as he opened the envelope. The message relayed the stops for a supply ship, a week’s round trip in total from the listed times. Nothing more was gleaned from it, and Sawagejo scratched his head.

“See? Not much to it. Maybe it’s how they got into Japan? Or their escape route?”

“It’s also possible that the locations are points for smuggling weapons. However, it doesn’t seem urgent enough to send a messenger.” Koshijiro was doubtful.

Saito folded the paper, filing it away. “In any case, I have no issue with blocking the route. The raid is our priority, so prepare.”

As Koshijiro left, the clock chimed the hour. Time was relentlessly marching on.

On the fifth day, Kaoru declared that Yahiko was ready. Koshijiro had just returned from work, and he was relieved. Despite the current circumstances, he wanted to see this moment.

Yahiko was ecstatic. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for this! Come on, I can catch your shinai.”

Kaoru shook her head. “Not yet. You watched Otou-san and me but it’s different when you’re actually on the receiving end. I’ll show you first. Perform an offensive strike against me.”

His nostrils flared as he stomped towards her. He was clearly itching to put his hours of practice to use. But his gaze was focused when he delivered the blow. Quick, enough power behind it, and his form was excellent.

Still, Kaoru caught his shinai between the backs of her hands. “Hadome!” Her voice was strong; she was confident and that pleased Koshijiro. “And Hawatari!” She disarmed Yahiko, and he was knocked to the floor.

Instinctively, he rolled, recovering to a crouch. He blinked, looking somewhat stunned. “That was…faster than I thought.”

“That’s why it’s the succession technique.” Kaoru explained. “You can’t hesitate at all. Using Hadome in the first place means you’re putting your life on the line. If you make a mistake, you’ll be struck down if your opponent is using a real blade. But if you’re perfect…”

“Then, you’ll win.” Yahiko finished the sentence, and he rose to his feet, shoulders set in determination.

“Yes, so you can try now.” She tossed his shinai to him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright! Now!”

Kaoru dashed, opting for a one-handed strike. And Yahiko succeeded in crossing his wrists. However, he was a second too late, unable to protect his stomach. He had the wind knocked out of him by Kaoru’s shinai, and he crumpled.

“Not bad.” She helped him to a sitting position, reassuringly patting his back. “You couldn’t stop me but your hands were in the right place!”

“For a first attempt, you did well.” Koshijiro added. “Your stance was correct, and although you took the hit, timing will be refined with practice.”

Yahiko wiped his mouth with his sleeve and groaned. “Got it.”

“And you shouldn’t use Hadome in a fight, not until you master it in the dojo.” Kaoru firmly said. “Until you know you can do it perfectly.”

Their lesson continued into the evening. Eventually, Yahiko couldn’t make any further meaningful progress, and Kaoru had to drag him out of the dojo. At this point, Himura also returned, locking the gate behind him. Koshijiro was unaware of where he went.

When he asked, Himura replied. “This one went to a quiet area. It’s a bamboo grove where this one can freely use ki.”

“Ah. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you do that before.”

“No, it has been a long time since this one has. Not since this one was with Shishou.” He paused. “This one considered contacting him, but he is harder to reach than the others in Kyoto.”

“That’s true, but I think he would want to help, if he knew. Or at least, be here for you.”

“Shishou would deny that reasoning, of course.” Himura wryly said. “Still, he means well, and although he is not here, this one remembers his lessons. Perhaps, this one sought out the bamboo because we used to train in places like that.”

Koshijiro wondered how he was feeling about the upcoming fight, but it was already late. “You worked hard today. Don’t worry about dinner, Sekihara-san has taken over.”

She had returned in the afternoon, windswept from her journey. She’d spoken to her parents and her sister, and while it would take time, she was determined to rebuild the Akabeko. Embracing Tsubame and Kaoru, she fiercely declared. “I haven’t given up before, and I certainly won’t now. The Akabeko will open again!” Their new lodgings in town were being finalized, but soon, she and Tsubame would move out.

During dinner, Sagara jumped at the opportunity to tease Yahiko over this revelation. “Bet you’re gonna miss having Tsubame around, huh?”

However, Yahiko didn’t rise to the bait. He finished chewing and glanced at Tsubame. “Is it safe?”

“O-oh, um, Tae-san knows more about the neighborhood, but I think so?”

“That’s good.” He was serious, and Tsubame nodded in flustered agreement.

“But you’re welcome to visit whenever you want.” Kaoru smiled. She poured Himura a second cup of tea, and he quietly thanked her. To Koshijiro’s knowledge, they hadn’t talked much since sending the telegram, but he was well aware of Himura’s gaze following her throughout the rest of their meal.

The following morning, Koshijiro stopped by the Maekawa dojo. His friend had been discharged from the hospital yesterday, and he intended to check on him. When he knocked on the door, Sachi answered. She looked worn out, and he immediately felt like he was intruding.

“Kamiya-sensei.” Even her voice was thready, as if she was drawing from the last reserves of her energy. “I’m very sorry, but my husband should be resting.”

“I understand. I only wanted to see how he was faring, but I won’t disturb him.”

“Is that you, Kamiya-sensei?” That could only have been Maekawa himself, weakly calling from inside the house. “Sachi, let him in.”

She pressed her lips together but beckoned Koshijiro to remove his shoes. She led the way to her husband and went straight to his side. “Really, dear, you should be sleeping.”

Maekawa was propped up in his futon, and his bandages appeared freshly changed. But the garish bruises on his neck were visible, as were the dark circles under his eyes. For as long as Koshijiro had known him, Maekawa had always acted young at heart, but he currently looked his age, older even. He lifted a hand to stop Sachi’s fretting. “A few minutes, that’s all I ask for. I should tell him about what’s going to happen.”

That sounded ominous, and once Sachi left, Koshijiro stared at Maekawa. “What do you mean?”

A silent moment passed. “First, I’ve noticed the decrease in student attendance, but I always chalked it up to other factors. Then, there was Isurugi and the challenge to the dojo. And now, this. I was denying it, but I can’t keep up anymore. Ifeel old, and this is the second time this year, that I’ve been hurt. I don’t think I ever fully recovered from the dojo breaking either. But I won’t let Sachi worry again. I’m going to retire.”

“Maekawa-sensei…”

“It’s for the best.” Maekawa’s smile was bittersweet. “I’ve had many good years teaching, and most of my current students are interested in moving to Hino, where my son is. Sachi wants to go too, because our daughter-in-law is expecting. So, I’ll be a grandfather next spring, and I’d like to see the baby, teach it kenjutsu when it’s older. Years from now, of course; I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.”

“A quiet life isn’t bad at all. You may find that it suits you, and there are new things to enjoy. Retirement isn’t the end.”

“Speak for yourself. You haven’t slowed down, you’re semi-retired at best.” Maekawa tried to laugh but winced. “Aren’t you preparing for a wedding yet?”

Thankfully, Sachi heard his overexertion and when she hurried into the room, Koshijiro took the opportunity to excuse himself. He didn’t address Maekawa’s parting question. Not that he could mention Yukishiro’s challenge, but that possibility was the furthest thing from his mind. Every day seemed slow and fast at once, and they only had five more.

Out of courtesy, he paid a quick visit to the chief, who was at his follow-up appointment with Dr. Gensai. Chief Uramura was in better shape, and he was able to walk around the clinic with a cane for support. He waved when Koshijiro approached. “Officer Kamiya! I heard that you took charge during the attack in town. I can’t express how grateful I am. In my absence and the assistant chief’s, you were the leader that the men looked to for guidance. It could have been much worse.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Himura-san and Sagara-san should be commended as well.”

“Yes, I intend to give them a reward once I’m in the office, although it will pale in comparison to their deeds. The assistant chief said that you’re working on identifying the perpetrators?”

“…Mm.” Well, they already knew, but it was a matter of uncovering evidence. If he told the chief now, a manhunt would be ordered, yet that would only force Yukishiro into hiding or possibly hurt more officers if they came across the enemy. It wasn’t that they were obstructing justice, but they had to proceed with discretion. Koshijiro changed the subject, inquiring about the other injured officers. Apparently, most would need time off, and they’d be short-staffed over the next weeks. But the station would pull through, the chief insisted. Koshijiro certainly hoped so.

***

Exactly a week after the challenge had been issued, Koshijiro lingered at the end of his shift. He called the rookies to stay behind as well, to their obvious apprehension.

“Don’t worry. None of you are in trouble.” He reassured them, and after ensuring the room was secure, he explained. “I have an assignment for anyone who’s interested. Tomorrow night, the assistant chief inspector is leading a raid on a location of interest. It’s risky, and beyond the scope of your current responsibilities, especially since we’re stretched thin. I only wanted to extend the opportunity if you were interested; if not, I understand. Those who would like to hear the details can stay for the debriefing, but I’ll give a few minutes for you to think it over and leave if that’s what you wish.”

Then, he waited. Smiles broke out amongst the rookies, before Shinichi spoke up. “Officer Kamiya, we’re all in.”

“Good.” He couldn’t smile yet, but his shoulders felt lighter as he launched into the debriefing. The rookies asked plenty of questions, which was welcome. However, he was home late, and everyone looked so tired, he decided to breach the subject in the morning.

He caught Kaoru when she was shuffling out of her room and spoke to her first. She was already nodding. “Of course, I’ll come. Anything, to protect Kenshin. Does he know?”

“Not that the raid is tonight.”

For a moment, her confidence faltered. “I don’t want to keep secrets from him, but I know he’ll worry.”

“Then, we can talk to him together.”

“He already left. His door’s open and he already made his bed.”

That was a setback, but it couldn’t be helped. Given his assigned morning shift, Koshijiro had to leave. At least, he knew that Himura would return by sunset. He forced himself to take a nap in the afternoon, and that made time pass quicker. It was quiet in the house, too quiet, with the additional absences of Sagara and Yahiko. The latter was helping Tsubame settle into her new place with Tae, while the former was in town for “supplies”. What he was up to, Koshijiro had no idea.

When he woke, it was close to dinnertime. He wasn’t fully alert until everyone was at the table, including Takani who joined them with a strained smile. She was clearly worried too. They ate in silence, unable to manage small talk. Koshijiro forced down every bite, if only for the nourishment, and his portion was gone quickly. He intended to wait, but the minutes became excruciating.

“Um, Otou-san.” Kaoru tentatively broached the topic. “I think it’s okay to tell them now.”

“The dishes haven’t been cleared yet.”

“It’s more awkward that we’re just sitting like this, and you look tense. At this rate, you’ll get a muscle cramp at a bad moment.”

Yahiko eyed them suspiciously, and he talked with his mouth full. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Himura set down his chopsticks. “This one was also wondering. Is it the warehouse?”

Koshijiro honestly replied. “Yes, it is. Now that we know Yukishiro Enishi is the culprit we’ve been searching for, we have an opportunity to gain some advantage. The plan was to conduct a raid tonight. I volunteered to join, along with my squad.”

“Kaoru-dono, so did you.” He looked at her, his expression giving nothing away.

“Kenshin, I want to help you.” She replied, leaning towards him. “If this can deal a blow, that’s good. And I’m not comfortable, waiting two more days to be attacked.”

“What if he’s there?”

“I doubt he is.” Koshijiro said. “We’ve been maintaining surveillance and have not seen anyone matching the description you gave. But perhaps, we can eliminate some of his subordinates.”

“Then, this one will go with you.”

“I’m not sure what Saito-san will say, but I have one request. Please do not draw your sword. Save your strength for your own battle.” It would not do at all, if Himura was injured before the fated duel.

He bowed his head. “This one agrees.”

So, they prepared to depart. Everyone was brought to speed on the current state of affairs, and even Yahiko refused to stay behind. They dressed for a fight, and Koshijiro double checked the shinai, opting to carry an extra. He didn’t think they needed it, but just in case.

Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Oh! Maybe we should give you a disguise, Kenshin. Wait right here, don’t leave without me.” She hurried off and momentarily returned with a patch bandage and the Western hat from their birthday outing. “It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing.”

Himura gathered the weight of his hair, pulling as much as he could under the hat. Kaoru lent her assistance, tucking stray locks and ensuring the brim was smooth all the way around. The bandage, he carefully placed over his left cheek. “Thank you, Kaoru-dono.”

“You’re welcome. I’m here for you.” She quickly squeezed his hand. Koshijiro made note of it but didn’t speak. Himura was in need of all the assistance he could possibly receive, and helping him was the exception to the rule. That included emotionally, and Kaoru was the best person to do so.

“And what are you gonna do?” Yahiko asked Sagara. “Your hand’s still healing, isn’t it?”

He grinned. “Earlier today, I stopped by Katsu’s for some…let’s call them ‘bonuses’. I meant to use them when Enishi shows up, but I can spare a few.”

“You should.” Takani said, her lips drawn into a taut line. “If you can protect your hand for as long as you can, before Yukishiro Enishi comes here, it’s worth it.”

“Yeah.” He slowly nodded. “I don’t have a lot, but if push comes to shove, it won’t hurt to ask Katsu if he’s made more. We’ve got a little time, and it has to count.”

The sky was a blue-black expanse and the wind rustling through the trees seemed abnormally loud, but they arrived at the station without issue. Koshijiro sighed in relief when they did, and Kaoru touched his elbow in reassurance. When they entered the meeting room, the rookies were already sitting in neat rows and gave proper greetings. Saito’s squad was present as well, a small number of experienced men.

And Saito himself was at the front, arms crossed and the familiar katana at his side. His gaze squarely landed on Sagara and Himura. “I told Kamiya to bring anyone available to fight. You two are in no condition to join.”

“Nice to see that you’re not dead.” Sagara shot back. This was the first time they’d met since Kyoto. Koshijiro hoped they would be able to cooperate.

“This one is only observing.” Himura said. “And Sanosuke will refrain from injuring himself any further. Kamiya-dono kindly invited us, so we will not overstep.”

“If you do, I’ll hold Kamiya accountable.”

Koshijiro gave Saito a flat look. “I trust them, and it was only fair to inform them. We have a raid to discuss. Where is Sawagejo-san?”

“Keeping an eye on the warehouse. We’ll meet him there.” Then, he called for attention, and the room fell silent before he provided the instructions.

The building had one point of entry, wide enough for three people at a time. The shift change was two hours before midnight, and they would take advantage, ambushing the incoming workers and entering in their stead. Saito’s team would handle the former task, while Koshijiro was going to lead the charge with his half. Once the warehouse was secured and the workers taken into custody, the balloons would be destroyed. Simple in theory, but they couldn’t afford arrogance. A distinct tension filled the air, as they reviewed their roles.

Koshijiro eyed Kaoru and Yahiko. “How are you two doing?”

“It’s a lot to take in. More formal than I expected.” She confessed. “Is this normal procedure?”

“Everything, except dismantling the balloons. It’s regretful that we can’t keep them intact for evidence, but we’re past that point. They’ve been stolen once, and now, the risk is too great.”

“Were they planning an aerial attack?” Yahiko stared up at him. “Like, shooting at us from above?”

“Most likely. It’s a possibility I don’t want to happen.”

“Me neither.”

Then, it was time. They headed out of the station, spread out to be less conspicuous. The streetlights glowed, but most of the alleyways were pitch black. Koshijiro maintained a head count, making sure nobody strayed. They were in the right district when someone walked out of a side street. Sawagejo held up his hands as they all turned toward him.

He gave a low whistle. “Whoa, ease up.”

“What are you doing away from your post?” Saito demanded.

“Looking for you? I got bad news. Maybe Baihu or Byakko or whatever suspects something’s up, because two upper-level folks are in the warehouse. A rough-looking fellow and a skinny one.” He squinted at Koshijiro and the others. “Oh, it’s you guys. Joining in on the action?”

“It’s good to see you again.” Himura politely said.

Sagara was less enthused. “Is that all you saw?”

“I didn’t want to be caught, so I hightailed it out of there.”

“Figures.”

The shift change was imminent, and voices drifted in their direction. Saito’s team took over, the workers swiftly muffled and bound. Petty knives were eagerly confiscated by Sawagejo, along with the keys which Saito tossed to Koshijiro. The looming shadow of the warehouse emerged from the city’s outline, and Koshijiro gave the signal to the rookies. Maeda inserted the main key, before Yoshihara and Eguchi pulled the large doors apart.

Someone called out, an irritated drawl. “Hey! You’re late. The bosses aren’t too happy…!” The lackey was cut off, as a rookie tackled him.

The interior was lit by oil lanterns, and while the rookies subdued the warehouse employees, Koshijiro glanced around. Crates upon crates, though the middle of the dirty floor was empty. And looking down from a metal staircase, two faces were chagrined. One was certainly familiar.

Inui snarled, his attention on Sagara. “You!”

“Yeah, it’s me. Guess I’m lucky, because I’ve been waiting to kick your ass!”

The other person was a slim, androgynous figure who was sliding behind Inui. Himura quietly identified the stranger. “That is Otowa, who attacked the chief’s house. If these two escape…”

“They’ll run straight to Yukishiro.” Koshijiro finished. “But it’s too early for a rematch.”

“I’m ready.” Sagara argued, just as Inui leapt over the railing and landed in the cleared area. “Don’t worry, old man. I have a strategy just for this guy.” He fished in his pocket and he palmed something round. An explosive? But there was no fuse.

“Inui, you’re being rash.” Otowa admonished in a nasal tone.

“Shut up! I’m gonna put this bastard in the ground.” His gauntlets had been fixed, and he tapped them together in anticipation.

Sagara clicked his tongue. “That’s my line. Kenshin, this is my fight. Don’t let anyone else butt in.”

“Be careful, Sano.”

The two fighters circled each other, but neither had a high capacity for patience. They collided, Inui dealing heavy blows. Sagara took each hit without complaint, attempting to steer them towards a tower of boxes. He was still holding the mysterious thing in his right fist. Then, a gauntlet glanced off his head, with its twin driving into Sagara’s solar plexus. He was sent flying into piled crates, the contents of travel supplies spilling.

“Oh, no.” Kaoru gasped.

Inui cackled over his sprawled form, pulling him up by the collar. His gauntlets creaked, the metallic segments spreading out. The words that left his mouth were crass, threatening to kill Sagara. Koshijiro must have moved, because Himura’s hand floated to stop him.

“Wait. Sano’s going to act.”

Indeed, Sagara was baring his teeth in a vicious smile. He threw down the object, aiming low. A small sack opened under them. Fine white powder billowed in the air.

Caught off guard, Inui coughed. “The hell?”

“Gotcha.” Sagara smirked. “It’s just rice flour. Or is that too much to handle?” He tore away from the loosened grip and dodged Inui’s retaliation, staying just beyond reach of a second and third blow.

In the middle of the next strike, Inui abruptly stopped. He howled in pain, erratically flailing his hands. Sparks flew between the segments of his gauntlets. A flame ignited near his left wrist, and he wrenched off the smoking device, only for the right one to catch fire.

“So that’s what the rice flour was for!” Yahiko exclaimed. “Every time the gauntlets are used, the metal parts rub against each other and heat up. It’s friction, right, Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, and the flour is very flammable.”

“Surprisingly smart.” Takani was genuinely impressed. “And I think it’s changed the tide of this battle.”

Sagara knew it too, stalking towards Inui. The man desperately tried to remove his other hot gauntlet, and he relied on brute force, metal shards scattering across the floor. By the glints in his skin, it was even more painful. The second gauntlet cracked into a multitude of pieces.

And Sagara delivered his first punch, breaking through the hasty defense of Inui’s burned forearms. With his right hand. He made contact with the lower jaw, and Inui’s head snapped back as he fell unconscious. Not a draw this time. Sagara staggered, but his expression was utterly triumphant.

“Well done.” Himura smiled.

Yahiko let out a cheer. “Sano! That was awesome!”

“I can’t believe you won! How’d you know to bring rice flour?” Kaoru asked.

“I didn’t. The flour was supposed to be fuel for a little bomb, but I removed it when Chou told us. I figured the rough guy was Inui, and I’ve been thinking about those gauntlets. I had to bring Inui to my level. Kenshin would make it an even fight, and your dad uses one hand just fine, so I knew it was possible. In a smarter way, like how they do. I pulled it off.”

Koshijiro was touched. “Yes, you did. However, at the last second…”

“Yeah, I know, but I only trust my right hand with the double punch and he had to stay down.” He turned to Takani, lifting his bleeding knuckles. “Sorry, my recovery has to start over.”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly! I thought you’d become wiser, but I truly have no medicine to cure stupidity. Come here.” She opened her medicine bag, already unwinding a new roll of bandages. In the background, Inui was bound and dragged towards the other workers.

But they weren’t finished yet. Otowa had descended, staring at Himura in obvious recognition. Then, Kaoru stepped in between them.

“You’re not fighting Kenshin. I’m your opponent.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m the second and current master of Kamiya Kasshin, the sword that protects life.” Her declaration rang through the warehouse. Koshijiro couldn’t be prouder of his daughter.

“Hm. What melodramatic words. Well then, let’s play.”

“Kaoru-dono.” Himura’s words were barely audible, only meant for her. “Otowa relies on deception and tricks. If you’re too close, he’ll surprise you. Poison is in his arsenal.”

“Thanks, Kenshin.” Then, she walked forward, readying her shinai.

Otowa possessed more restraint than his colleague, or perhaps, it was cowardice. He unsheathed his sword, almost bored by the situation. Kaoru was cautious and she didn’t react when Otowa called out. “If you’re the one fighting me, I don’t see how you’ll win. I have plenty of years as an assassin, and you’re only a woman.”

Kaoru bristled but she evenly replied. “I’m a woman but I’m a swordsman too. For as long as I can remember, I learned from the best. And since you’re already underestimating me, you’ve lost without realizing it. Someone like you could never win a fair duel.”

That must have touched a sore spot, because Otowa lunged. Kaoru maintained the distance, sticking to defensive maneuvers. Right away, Koshijiro noticed that Otowa was a poor swordsman. His footwork was clumsy, and there was no strength behind his attacks. He was certainly no match for Kaoru, but he was trying to get closer and she wouldn’t allow it. However, it would be a long fight, if she was trying to tire him out.

“You can beat him, Kaoru!” Yahiko hollered. He had drifted into the battle space. “You’re stronger!”

Kaoru didn’t react, but Otowa did. He whirled around, his free hand flicking, and in the next instant, black dust enveloped Yahiko. Yahiko spluttered and Koshijiro hurried to him with apprehension. Yahiko’s clothes were discolored and as he brushed himself off, his hands were covered in dark grit.

“It doesn’t look like poison.” Himura also approached, frowning at the substance. Then, he slightly turned and his eyes widened. “Watch out!” He shoved both of them aside, Yahiko spinning away from Koshijiro, just as Otowa’s sword bore down. It should have drove into the floor, but strangely, the blade jerked in midair and changed direction. Aiming for Yahiko.

Kaoru had taught him well, and he immediately parried, yelping in surprise. “What the heck?”

Otowa only sneered. “Haven’t you seen magic before? That’s my Bishamon sword.”

The sword and shinai moved towards Yahiko. He was faltering.

“Stop!” Kaoru stormed towards them, raising her shinai. “I’m the one you’re fighting, and it isn’t magic at all. You threw iron powder at him, and your sword’s magnetic.”

“Oh, you’re quite clever. Not clever enough to find a solution though.” He moved to strike again…and stopped short. His sword was pulled off course, attached to its own sheath.

Yahiko gripped the other end, and he shouted. “If your sword’s magnetic, your sheath is too! You underestimated me!” For the first time, Koshijiro was grateful for the boy’s pickpocketing history. And Kaoru was close enough now to attack.

Then, Otowa abandoned his weapon. He dashed, evading Kaoru’s strike, and lifted one arm, pointing at Yahiko who had just dropped the Bishamon sheath. A clicking sound, followed by a whir.

Six points of crimson bloomed on Yahiko’s sleeves and hakama. He crumpled.

“Yahiko!” Kaoru cried out, as Himura scooped him up. He carried Yahiko back to the group, and in the lantern light, dagger hilts gleamed. Koshijiro called for the rookies; Hoshi and Kato in particular had first aid experience and could help Takani.

“He isn’t poisoned but he’s very hurt.” Himura grimaced. “Megumi-dono?”

“No tendons or major organs have been hit. The wounds aren’t too deep but removing the daggers will hurt without anesthetic.”

“Do it all at once!” Yahiko gritted his teeth. “I can take it…”

Koshijiro silently clasped his hand, and Sagara did the same. Yahiko squeezed desperately, blinking back tears.

“You did very well. You’re brave, and you’ll recover quickly.” Himura reassured before removing a dagger. Takani took another, while Hoshi and Kato ensured the others were out. As Yahiko was being bandaged, Koshijiro turned his attention back to Kaoru. Her gaze was burning with fury at Otowa.

“How could you?!”

“There are no rules for an assassin. Shadow weapons are my specialty.” This was a challenge. Otowa had long-range and short-range capabilities, and he was merciless. He lifted his other arm, a manic smile curling up his face.

Kaoru ran. She disappeared into the crate pile, but unfamiliar territory wasn’t good cover. Otowa gave chase, and with both of them out of sight, Koshijiro strained to track them. Footsteps resounded against wood. Boxes tumbled and crashed. Then, through a small gap, he glimpsed his daughter’s expression.

She wasn’t panicked. She was searching for something.

A stacked tower shivered and toppled over, causing a horrendous din. Otowa stepped out, looking aggravated and disheveled as he failed to avoid the debris. “Are you giving up? Very well. I have my pick of targets out here. Who’s next?”

Koshijiro reached for his shinai, prepared to buy time for Kaoru. “You’re outnumbered. You should surrender while you can.”

“A one-armed fighter?” Otowa scrutinized him, moving further into the shadows. “Hm, you’re more of a match for Kujiranami.”

Was that the man from the Akabeko? “And why isn’t he with you?”

“Who knows? He would have loved to encounter Battousai. But that’s enough talk.” He was retreating, slipping within the darkest portion of the warehouse. Was he going to attack or flee?

Light flashed upon Otowa’s eyes. He was taken aback, shrieking and shaking his head. And Kaoru leapt from a crate, her shinai in one hand. In the other, a compass gleamed. It must have been among the scattered travel supplies. She turned it again to reflect the lanterns’ glow, sending another illuminating beam to blind Otowa. She landed solidly, avoiding his flailing, and she didn’t hesitate. A single true thrust, at the base of his throat. A choked sound escaped him, before Kaoru knocked him out.

She lowered her shinai and weakly smiled over her shoulder. “I’ve always hated shadow weapons.”

Everyone was silent in awe. She’d come up with such an ingenious, literally brilliant solution. Koshijiro had to correct himself. This was definitely the proudest he’d been of her.

The rookies took Otowa’s unconscious form away, and with the warehouse secured, a shout went up. The energy seemed to leave Kaoru’s body, and her knees buckled. Unfortunately, so did the nearest column of crates.

“Kaoru-dono!” Himura sprinted, diving for her. His hands lifted her off the ground, as his feet continued on to safety. The place where she’d been was buried under wooden splinters and straw. He stared down at her face. “Are you alright?”

“U-um, yeah.” She stammered. “Kenshin, thank you.”

He awkwardly cleared his throat but he wasn’t letting her down. “This one was worried when you were among the boxes. But this one is glad you won, and with a perfect answer. Light, against shadow.”

“I meant to distract him, so I could get closer.” Speaking of getting closer, her arms had looped around his neck. “It does seem a little cliched.”

“No, it was wonderful.” Himura insisted. His gaze had fallen to her lips…

“Officer Kamiya! Come quick, there’s trouble outside!”

Despite the news, Koshijiro was privately grateful for Shinichi’s summons. Himura gently released Kaoru, and their side exited the warehouse. Saito’s team had never joined them, and they finally saw why.

A distorted man was on the brutally torn ground, his arms and legs abnormally elongated. He was severely bloodied, his left shoulder a gory mess. Saito stood over him, raising his katana with a sense of conclusion.

“Saito-dono. Don’t kill him.”

At Himura’s voice, Saito did stop, but he glared. “He’s already accepted death. Do you recognize him?”

“It’s been over ten years but this one has not forgotten.” He nodded to the man. “Yatsume Mumyoi. An assassin, from a northern clan that modifies their own bodies for the sake of unearthing gold. This one met him during the Bakumatsu. His clan’s secret was revealed to an outsider, and so, he swore to kill this one.”

“A foolish reason. Ending a life of revenge isn’t worth my time but I have no issue with obliging him.”

“This one does. If he wants to have a fair fight, this one will later. But he should live, return to his clan, and find a way to survive outside of the gold mines. Please spare him, Saito-dono.” His hand lightly dropped to the hilt of the sakabato. Koshijiro was unsure how serious he was, but it was still a message. If Saito didn’t stand down, Himura would defend Yatsume.

After a tense moment, Saito rapidly sheathed his katana. “I expect him to be a model prisoner. Otherwise, I’ll fulfill his death wish.”

Yatsume’s appearance was extreme, but he was docile now. The desire for revenge must have fled, and he addressed Himura one last time, speaking through sharpened teeth. “Three of us were defeated, but not the other three and they’re the strongest ones. You may not want to be as kind when you meet them. And…thank you. It’s been more than fifteen years since I was in the north. I…would like to see it again.”

Himura didn’t answer, only inclining his head.

The men were escorted to jail under Sawagejo’s supervision. Sagara, Yahiko, and others with minor wounds were sent to the clinic, along with Takani. Those who stayed worked on the last task of destruction. The machinery was removed, the baskets stacked and set aside. The fabric was shredded by the rookies’ effort, rendering flight impossible. Yukishiro would never receive his hot air balloons.

And so, the eighth night ended. A victory, but Koshijiro felt dissatisfied. Half of Yukishiro’s gang still remained, and while they had the name of the last person, they learned nothing about Jinchuu.

***

When he heard that conversation, Koshijiro was supposed to be under cover.

He had told the rookies to keep an ear out for grave diggers, and while there weren’t any, Nakamura had been talking to an elderly individual, who reported a suspicious person by the rowhouses. The sighting was over a week ago, but that was all the information that could be obtained. “Poor fellow, he was half demented. I didn’t want to press him.”

So, Koshijiro went to investigate. He borrowed old baggy clothes from Maekawa and donned a conical hat to hide his face. He’d stand out with his missing arm but he devised a partial solution. One of the pillows in the shed had split seams, the cotton falling out. He took it all, padding the sleeve and tying the end closed. The overall appearance was lumpy but it was passable at a distance.

He made his way to the rowhouses, speaking to the residents. Apparently, they hadn’t noticed anyone out of the ordinary. However, when he mentioned the elderly individual, there were further details.

“Yeah, he’s a newcomer. Never sticks around in one spot, but he’s harmless.” The teenager he was interviewing suddenly pointed. “Oh, that’s him!”

Koshijiro turned to see a squat figure, meandering out of the neighborhood. A thick gray beard concealed most of his face, and an ancient pair of glasses was perched at the end of his nose.

It was easy to catch up to him. “Excuse me, sir. Sir?”

The man was humming to himself, and he didn’t register Koshijiro’s presence at first. At the end of the street, he finally looked at Koshijiro, languidly blinked, and gave a vacant smile. “It’s all good. It’s all good.”

Half demented. Koshijiro gently asked. “Have you eaten today?”

“Not yet, not yet. Too busy.”            

“The work can wait. You should have something at least.” It was noon anyway, and he felt sorry for the stranger. He purchased two shares of grilled onigiri, keeping an eye on the other man. He had sat down, idly rolling his fingers. When Koshijiro returned, a gleam caught his attention. The stranger was playing with a coin.

“It isn’t enough, oh, it’s still too much…” A mutter escaped him. He wouldn’t even look at his lunch, chewing from the side of his mouth. He was completely engrossed with the coin.

“What’s too much?”

“For my daughter. A gift.”

“And you don’t have enough money.” Koshijiro paused. “I also have a daughter. I think yours will be happy with whatever you give her.”

“No! This is the only thing. The only thing…”

“Then, if you show me what it is, I’ll help pay the difference.” He offered, thinking that it was a small keepsake.

To his surprise, the item of choice was a hairpin. It wasn’t cheap, but to his added shock, the man had scraped together loose change to almost cover the full price. Koshijiro had paid more for their riceballs than the hairpin’s leftover amount. But the stranger was ecstatic, grabbing Koshijiro’s hand and dancing in the street for a minute that lasted far too long.

Embarrassed, Koshijiro pulled his conical hat down. “Really, that was nothing.”

“Thank you!” Wrinkles appeared at the edges of his eyes. He happily twirled the hairpin, lifting it to the sunshine. When he glanced back at Koshijiro, his expression was subtly different. Keener, perhaps. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But I did intend to talk to you. I heard you saw someone suspicious.”

“Yes, suspicious.” He nodded vigorously. “Thin, like he could disappear. Like a skeleton.”

That sounded like Gein. “What was he doing?”

“Looking, digging, putting things in his bucket. He finished and went away from the slums.”

“Did you follow him?”

“No. He was frightening. Stayed far away.”

It was utterly cryptic, but Koshijiro didn’t know what else to ask. “I see. I appreciate what you observed.” He was about to leave when the stranger called out.

“Is your daughter well?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Good. Very good.” The stranger’s smile wobbled, and then, he resumed admiring the hairpin. He skipped off into the distance. An odd fellow, but not malicious at all.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the slums. He probably looked like a weary laborer and it wasn’t an issue to adopt the persona. But it seemed that the stranger was the only one who had noticed Gein, or he was the sole person willing to divulge that information. Despite his best efforts, the inhabitants were surlier and avoided any line of questioning. In this part of the city, the destitute were struggling; they had other priorities than minding a suspicious figure. The dead were lying in the open air, and Koshijiro’s stomach rebelled at the sights and smells. But Gein’s first costume had been made of human skin…if he was here, it had to be for obtaining more. His sources should have been buried though, since it was over a week ago.

So, where did he take his bucket? And what new costume is he making? Most likely, there will be clues in the Yokohama mansion. I have to tell Saito and Sawagejo.

Unable to make more progress, he headed out. He remained in the laborer’s guise, still deep in thought. The scenery gave way to clean grass and fresh air, the burbling river and its sparkling surface. A light wind swept through the reeds, promising cooler weather in the evening. A balm for his dulled senses.

“Hey! You shouldn’t eat out after training!”

He smiled. He certainly recognized that voice, even more of a balm. Up ahead, he spotted his daughter’s profile on the opposite bank. Beside her, Himura’s red hair shone in the light of the setting sun. They were speaking to a trio of young students from another dojo, who were leisurely sitting and eating soba noodles. The students asked whether Kaoru would stop by to guest teach, and taken note of Himura, who they’d seen around town. The two of them were definitely popular.

Koshijiro maintained his current pace and lowered his hat, praying that he wouldn’t be noticed. He’d have a hard time explaining his appearance, cotton-filled sleeve included. He sidestepped a passing cart, and when he turned his attention to the road again, Kaoru and Himura were further in the distance. They were still talking, but Himura slowed to a stop. Koshijiro carefully approached, trying to discern their conversation.

He heard Himura first. “Yahiko’s recovering but his ambition has only been stoked. Sano will always search for new fights, and Megumi-dono is already looking towards Aizu. It would be nice if the days continued like this, but this one knows that eventually, our paths will lead us elsewhere.”

It was inevitable, Koshijiro thought. Everyone had their own desires and purposes, their personal dreams to fulfill. If they had to leave the Kamiya dojo, it would be sad, but if they could grow, it was for the best. However, Koshijiro noticed that Himura had not mentioned himself.

And so did Kaoru. Her clear voice soared across the river. “But…I want to stay at your side forever.”

Koshijiro snapped his head up, but neither his daughter nor Himura seemed to have noticed, for they were in a moment that only belonged to them. Himura was wordlessly staring at Kaoru with singular intensity. Understandable, because it had sounded like a proposal.

She broke first, clearly flustered and attempting to walk past him. “W-well, it’s getting late.”

Himura reached out, clasping her shoulder. He leaned in, pressing against her back, and Koshijiro had to strain to listen.

“Do you remember what this one said, when we returned from Kyoto? This one said he was home, for the first time in over ten years.” His hand remained, as his arm protectively covered her back.

“Really?” Her gaze was soft and shining.

“Yes.”

They smiled at each other, still in that intimate closeness as they walked on. And Koshijiro watched them go.

***

The morning of the tenth day was startlingly sunny, and that somehow worsened the pervasive dread. It was as if everyone was tethered to the house, unable to tread past the gate. A crow squawked, and Koshijiro flinched at the harsh sound.

“Kamiya-san? Are you okay?” Yahiko tugged at his sleeve. His six wounds were better, though his movement was constrained.

“Not really. It’s the heightened awareness before battle, and it’s not a pleasant feeling.”

“Yeah. Do you think they’re watching us?”

“I don’t sense any gazes, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” They had to be angry too.

Yahiko shuddered. “Ugh. Sano said they’re probably gonna wait until nighttime. Tsubame should go back before it gets dark.”

The girl was visiting, clearly worried about everyone. Her mouth was stuck in a frown, and she was eager to help with anything.

At noon, they went over the plan. Most likely, Kujiranami would charge in, with the Armstrong cannon. Gein was still an unknown variable, but he didn’t seem like a frontline fighter. If he supported the other two, he would have to be stopped. As for Yukishiro, he would lie in wait, saving the duel with Himura for the end.

Sagara was still the best lookout they had, and he wouldn’t relinquish his position as vanguard. “I’m Kenshin’s right hand, after all.”

“You should worry about your own first.” Takani warned. “If you’re reckless again, I may not be able to save it.”

“Well, I’ve got the bonuses and something else to help me out. You’ll see tonight.”

Himura intended to stay in the front yard. “Enishi will not reach the house, this one will make sure of it.”

Koshijiro opted to take point at the front steps and Kaoru offered to guard the dojo with Yahiko. Takani would be on standby, for medical assistance.

And there was one more person to account for. “Saito-san’s also coming.” Koshijiro informed them. At their shocked outcry, he added. “He only said that he wants to know what Jinchuu is, but he didn’t say he’ll fight. He won’t be here until later, because he’s waiting for Sawagejo-san’s report. We’re still searching for Gein’s location of…his work.” With the three in custody, the Yokohama mansion’s security had to be decreased. Sawagejo was planning a raid with Saito’s team, for an in-depth investigation.

Kaoru stared at the gate. “Misao isn’t here yet…I hope she and Shinomori-san are alright.”

“Have you heard from her again?” Himura asked.

“Not since the telegram she’d sent last week, and that was right after mine.”

“They are both capable, worthy of the Oniwabanshuu titles they possess. Sano will see them, when they arrive.” He reassured her, and she tentatively smiled.

And then, too quickly, the sun slipped down. Teacups and small onigiri were passed around, though no one had much of an appetite. They whipped around when there was a knock on the gate, but it was Tae, who was picking up Tsubame.

Tae wasn’t aware of the entire story, but she knew that there was impending danger. “It’s the people who’ve been attacking…they’re coming here, aren’t they? What about the police?”

“The assistant chief inspector will join us soon.” Koshijiro explained. “We’re already short-staffed and the inexperienced officers will only be put at risk. It’s better that they guard the culprits in custody.”

“I suppose so.” Tae trailed off, meeting everyone’s eyes. “I believe in all of you. Now, Tsubame, we should let them prepare.”

Tsubame was on the verge of tears. “I can’t stay? I know I’m not strong, but I can still help…”

“You already escaped the destruction of the Akabeko.” Himura was kind but firm. “They will not target the new place. You will be safer in town.”

She scrubbed at her eyes, her voice choked. “Everyone, please be safe.”

Yahiko patted her between the shoulders. “It’s okay. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He said it with utmost certainty. “So, don’t worry. Everyone will be back together in the morning.”

For the first time today, the frown reversed a little. “Okay.”

It was much quieter after they left. The burning sky cooled to indigo, pierced by stars, before deepening to relentless black. The air was chillier with each passing hour. Four hours left of today, then three.

Sagara waited by the gate, his zanbato in his grasp. This was the item he alluded to. The horse-killing sword had been repaired, and although he complained about the exorbitant cost, he grinned at it like an old friend. Suddenly, he exclaimed. “Saito’s here! He’s alone.”

“Keep your voice down.” Saito brusquely strode in, cigarette between his teeth. He ignored Sagara’s irritated face. “Or you’re asking to be cannon fodder. Kamiya, I finally heard from Shanghai.”

“What did they find on Yukishiro?”

“His organization is relatively new, established only a handful of years ago. But they garnered attention, because of the modifications they apply to weapons. Their work is in high demand. If we capture Yukishiro, the Shanghai police want to extradite him. I’ll obstruct them of course; we have the right to try him here for the ruin he’s caused. Sawagejo is late, I have no idea what he’s doing in Yokohama.” He took another pull of his cigarette. Koshijiro hoped that Sawagejo was fine.

Then, Sagara hurried towards them, hissing. “I feel vibrations in the ground. Something’s-!”

The sound came first, a resounding boom. In the next instant, the gate split, blowing apart and giving way to thick smoke. Pieces of the stone walls sailed through the air, landing heavily in the front yard. The Armstrong cannon had fired.

The enemy was here.

As the dust settled, an outline gradually took shape. Judging by the bulk, it had to be the other one-armed veteran, Kujiranami. But his right arm looked more solid.

Three small spheres rolled toward him, before exploding in bursts of light. But Kujiranami was unfazed by Tsunan’s miniature bombs. He kept moving and the smoke dissipated. In the Akabeko, he was rather polite, almost docile. However, the man who destroyed the gate seemed like an entirely different person. His lips curled, baring his teeth, and his eyes were black with rage. This was the expression of a wild animal. “Battousai!”

Behind him, two more figures stood in the street. One was Gein, albeit without a grotesque costume, and he set down a large medicine chest. The other was unfamiliar. So, Yukishiro Enishi finally revealed himself. His short hair was completely white, and he had to be taller than Himura. A cloak hid his body from the neck down. The round lenses of his glasses were pristine. And he was smiling.

Then, Kujiranami rolled his right shoulder. A large metal cylinder had taken the place of his lost limb and he raised it, pointing the open end towards the house. The cannon!

Himura sprinted, into a leap. He soared and struck. A blow to the head, down the cannon, to the groin, and up the left arm, before the final attack hit the breastbone. It happened so quickly, as if Kujiranami was targeted by nine swords at once. He reeled, joining the debris on the ground.

Landing solidly on his feet, Himura cried out. A kiai. The surrounding grass blades snapped under the wave of Himura’s crackling energy. His training seemed to have paid off.

“Kenshin’s alright.” Kaoru murmured, and Koshijiro turned to see that she had approached. Yahiko was also sidling their way.

“I don’t think it’s safe. You should go inside the dojo.”

“It’s better to see what’s coming.” She argued.

Yahiko interrupted, pointing at Kujiranami. “Ah, he’s getting up again!”

The man was uneasily standing, but the rage remained. He set his feet apart, and then, his form disappeared behind a bright flash that consumed Koshijiro’s sight.

Out of instinct, he pushed Kaoru out of the way.

A familiar silhouette with spiky hair moved. Sagara swung, and the screech of colliding metal was at a disturbing pitch. Something flew towards the house, embedding in the dirt. The zanbato had broken in half again, but its purpose was fulfilled. The cannonball headed back towards Kujiranami, who raised the cannon in time to deflect it to the side. The blast sent rippling tremors through the earth.

Koshijiro experienced this with a sense of detachment. It was the battlefield all over again, and he grasped for control. He couldn’t succumb now, not at this crucial moment. His left shoulder tensed, more intense with each second.

“Otou-san.” Kaoru was standing over him. When had he fallen? She help