From: Ashfae As I bounce from one series to the next, to the next, to the next...I promise I am still working on Beauty and the Battousai; the next chapter of it should be next. (that, or Koiji 4) Ashfae ******************************************************** [Tokyo] The streets were crowded with vendors and buyers, and assorted people traveling rapidly from here to there. The air was thick with the sound of shouts, laughter, conversations, and bargaining. Through all of these a low, sweet sound drifted. Sagara Sanosuke whistled to himself as he ambled through the streets, hands stuck into his pockets- which, astonishingly, were weighed down with coins. He smiled inwardly at the thought. **About bloody time my luck took a change!** he thought smugly. **Genji and Shuu never knew what hit 'em!** All at once something caught the corner of his eye: a vision of green silk and dark hair. Turning his head slightly, he met the eyes of a woman who was standing at the side of the road. Inwardly, Sano was impressed. Her kimono was dark green with gold cranes embroidered on it, and a yellow under-kimono and obi; even from a distance, he could tell that the material was of a high quality, and *very* expensive. Her hair was bound on top of her head with ornate jewelry, and her features were beautiful- strong rather than delicate, but nonetheless impressive. All at once she seemed to realize that she was staring, and blushed. Sanosuke winked good-naturedly and kept on walking. Before he had taken more than a few steps, he heard someone call from behind him. "WAIT!" Curious, he turned to look- and found the dark-haired woman chasing him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side. "Wait," she repeated, breathless. Up close, he could see that she was older than he had originally thought...perhaps thirty. Sanosuke raised an eyebrow, curious. "Did you want something?" A hand reached up and grasped one of the ends of the red bandanna that he always wore. Something inside of him went cold; if she recognized what it meant, then..."Your bandanna," she said, still a bit out of breath. "Were you one of the Sekihoutai?" **I *knew* it!** Sano raged inwardly. Every once in a while someone would remember that the Sekihoutai always wore red bandannas...and then inevitably followed insults, jeers, outright fear from people who had never learned the truth about the group that Sagara Sanosuke was still proud to have belonged to. So proud that he never removed the bandanna, even if it would have made life easier. His eyes narrowed. "Who the hell's death do *you* think we're responsible for?" he said in an icy voice. "A brother's? A father's? Forget it; I'm not interested." He turned to walk away, but the woman's arm still clung to his tightly. "Wait!" she repeated, almost desperately. "Please, you don't understand!" He twisted his arm out of her grip almost violently and turned to gaze at her with cold eyes, still not trusting. "Don't understand what?" The woman bit her lip. "Please...I must talk with you, but not here." He just looked at her. "My name is Koshima Misaki. My husband's name was Koshima Shirou, but he changed it when he left to join the revolution. He formed the Sekihoutai; the name he took was Sagara Souzou. Please, did you know him?" Sanosuke stared at her in complete astonishment. **Sagara-daishou's...wife??** **************************** Not much later, the two were seated in a quiet corner of the Akabeko. Tae watched curiously from the other side of the restruant; for the first time she could remember, Sanosuke had actually been able to *pay* for his meal...which he was eating with the most elegant woman the restruanteer could ever remember having seen. It was very curious. Unconcerned, Sanosuke leaned on his hands and stared at the woman who sat demurely opposite him. "You said you wanted to talk to me," he asked quietly. "About Sagara-daishou?" Misaki smiled slightly. "This is a bit of a story," she said. "I've got time. Please." The woman stared at her hands where they lay folded on the table. "My marriage to Shirou-san was arranged by our parents," she said quietly. "His family had wealth and influence, mine an honorable name. He had spent years traveling around, teaching his ideas on politics. His parents hoped that by distracting him with a wife and children, he would forget his revolutionary ideas. It didn't work; he would tell me, often, about the changes he wanted to see made to the government and social structures of Japan. He decided that the Meiji would bring those changes about; I was not suprised when he left my son and I, after only a few short years. Neither did I blame him. "For a time, he wrote to me regularly about his dreams of bringing about a new era. Then all at once, the letters stopped. I heard that he was dead. I was told that the Sekihoutai were traitors who had lied to the people and been executed by the new government." Her hands clenched each other so tightly that the blood drained from them. "I never believed it. My husband was an honorable man; he would never have done such a thing. I knew the government must be at fault somehow, that they must have betrayed him. But I could learn *nothing*. "I spent years searching for information. My son is grown now, and pays little attention to me. Free, I tried even harder to gather information. My greatest source was the underground anti-government newspapers that were published; I hired someone to collect them for me." Misaki reached into an inner pocket of her kimono and pulled out a faded piece of paper, and handed it to Sanosuke. His eyes scanned the article, which told the true story of what had happened to the Sekihoutai. A brief smile touched his lips as he recognized the author's name: Katsuhiro. Misaki continued. "When I read this, I knew that at least one member of the Sekihoutai must have survived. I resolved to come and find him, and any others that I might not have been able to locate. Did you write this?" Sano pursed his lips, still staring at the article. "You believed in Sagara-daishou?" he asked after a moment. Misaki's eyes filled with tears. "I was very young when I met him," she said, almost in a whisper. "Our marriage was one of convienence, but I loved my husband, and he was fond of me. Yes, I believed in him. I still do." Sanosuke stood up, reached into his pocket, and threw a few coins on the table. "Come," he said quietly. "There's someone you should meet." She followed as he walked quickly out of the Akabeko, and along a path that would take them to the outskirts of town. "Who?" "The man who wrote that article." ******************************************************** [Kyoto] "Shinomori Aoshi." Aoshi looked up from his meditation to find Saitoh Hajime standing before him, smirking. The wolf of Mibu looked the same as always; pristine, confident, and with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. "I have a job for you and your ninja." Aoshi's voice was cool and unpreterbed. "Then you should be speaking with our okashira." Saitoh raised an eyebrow. "I'm not? Don't tell me that the weasel-girl is still in charge..." **Weasel? What on earth...** "If by that term you refer to Misao, yes." The policeman took a drag from his cigarette. "Is that so. Well then, lead me to her. I would prefer if you stayed for the interview." Aoshi shrugged, curious despite his better instincts. "If she has no objection." "She will not, I think." Implied was, **She had better not.** Aoshi had not liked the wolf of Mibu on the few occassions when they'd met before; this meeting was not improving his opinion. Nonetheless, he rose from his cross-legged position on the floor, and led the way towards the training hall; he was fairly certain Misao would be there. Sure enough, she was sparring with Okina. She had decided that her style was too limited, and was trying to expand it; she had been practising kenpo with a ferocity that would have exhausted most, and was currently facing off her adopted grandfather with two tanto blades. Critically, Aoshi examined her movements; they were still flawed, but she was adjusting well to fighting with two blades. He'd been meaning to train her himself; the time was coming near when it would be necessary. Saitoh cleared his throat; the small sound broke Aoshi from his reverie. "Misao, Okina. We have a visitor." The two halted immediately, bowing their heads slightly towards each other before turning to the doorway. Misao's expression darkened slightly on seeing who was waiting behing Aoshi, but her voice was clear when she spoke. "Saitoh. To what do we owe this pleasure?" Her tone of voice made it clear that his visit was anything but a pleasure; his only reaction was a slight smile. "There have been a string of murders lately that we cannot comprehend. Possibly you have heard of them. Each time, the pattern is the same; a young boy walks into a public place, and begins to slaughter everyone in sight. It has happened on no less than four seperate occassions. Each time, the perpetrator managed to kill himself as soon as he caught sight of the police. The death toll is...disconcerting." Saitoh took a deep drag on his cigarette, watching closely as the young okashira digested this news, and continued. "We have not been able to discover any link between the murderers, aside from the fact that they were all fairly young- between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Only one of them was female. All of them remain unidentified. The weapons of choice have differed. There seems to be no motivation, and no set victims. We have almost nothing to go on." Misao's face was drained of blood, and very sober. But her voice did not shake at all as she answered. "You want us to try and find out who's behind it?" "Exactly so. There must be someone orchestrating these events. I have spared as many men as I can towards protecting the city; we need others, with more specialized talents, to gather information." A smile touched his lips. "Your little group seemed eminently suitable. We have permitted you to stay banded, against government policy, for just this reason; you will help us now, or I can arrest you all." "Don't be an ass, Saitoh," Misao snapped. Okina breathed in slowly, apparently concerned by her lack of respect before a very dangerous man, but the girl paid no attention to him. "Of course we'll do anything we can. There's no need for threats." The policeman raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you will. You will, of course, keep me informed." "Of course." It was Aoshi who responded that time, apparently not at all angered by Saitoh's patronizing tone of voice. "If you do not interfere with our methods." "I wouldn't dream of it." Saitoh touched a finger to his cap, a gesture of farewell, and left. To her credit, Misao didn't burst out into a torrent of insults as soon as he was gone. She looked up at Okina, her expression very sober. "Those rumors are true, then. About people walking into restruants or stores, and..." She swallowed. "So it would seem," Aoshi responded, leaning against the doorway. "I didn't want to believe them." Misao said in a small voice. "What should we do?" Automatically, Aoshi's mind had been reviewing possible tactics. Partly it was habit, and partly a desire to take part of the burden off of her shoulders. It took a few seconds for him to remember that she was the okashira now, not him. "It's your decision, Misao," he said finally. "Do you have any ideas?" He would do her no favors by doing her job for her. But he could help. She bit her lip, brow furrowing in concentration. "I guess we start by interviewing people who were there when it happened. Anyone who was a witness, or who owned a building where one of them came. Okon and Kuro can do that. Omasu and Shiro should probably stay at the Aoiya, in case something happens here." Her voice gained more confidence as she continued. Okina frowned. "The questioning process would go more quickly if we sent all four out." Misao shook her head, slowly. "No. It'd look strange if at least one of them wasn't around; people are used to seeing them here. We don't want people to know that there's more to the Aoiya than food. And Omasu doesn't really want to do ninja things anymore; she'd rather be in charge of the restruant. She'd be a good person to keep here. It's possible that someone could come here and try to cause trouble; they're choosing public places, and the Aoiya is possible. So we should make sure that a few Oniwabanshuu are working, as guards. In addition to our ordinary waitresses. That way, maybe we can capture one of them before anything happens." "True." Okina smiled. "That's good thinking. And you, Aoshi?" Aoshi mused. "I have a few contacts I could speak with," he said finally. "Perhaps one of them will have noticed something." Misao nodded firmly. "Good. That leaves Jiya to do the paperwork." "What??? Why me?" "You're the only one left," she grinned. "What about you?" "I have to be in charge of things, of course," she grinned. "I'm just kidding you, Jiya. I was thinking of doing some research to see if anything like this has ever happened before. That is, um, if Aoshi-sama will let me use his library...?" She looked up at the former okashira hopefully. Aoshi nodded. "Let me know first. I'll help you." "Thank you." She heaved a sigh of relief, then straightened up. "I'll tell the others later; there's not much we can get done tonight anyway. Now that that's settled- we weren't finished with practice, Jiya!" As the two resumed their sparring, Aoshi smiled inwardly. **She's learning how to take command. She'll do fine.** He made a mental note to help her correct her footwork, and left. ******************************************************** [Tokyo] "Good night, Yahiko-niichan!" "'Night! Night!" Myojin Yahiko waved to Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan, who waved enthusiastically back for as long as they possibly could, until their grandfather took them inside. Yahiko grinned at Genzai-sensei, then started the walk back home, whistling to himself. **Cute kids,** he thought. **Can't help but like them, even if they are loud and pesky and...well, girls.** **'Course, Tsubame-chan's a girl too, and she's nice...and I guess Misao is okay...** Yahiko walked the short distance between Genzai-sensei's house and the dojo, as he did nearly every day after making certain Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan had gotten home okay. He kept on whistling, hands folded behind his head, musing about how weird it was that some girls were okay, whereas others- like Ugly- were annoying people who couldn't cook. He smirked, knowing that if Kaoru knew he was thinking such things about her, she'd start chasing him around with a shinai. His mind thus occupied, he was completely unprepared for the piece of cloth that was thrown over his mouth, muffling his shouts. He was even less prepared for the bag that he was thrown into, or for being slung onto someone's back like a sack of rice. He struggled and kicked as much as he could, until something hit him sharply on the shoulder, then on the head. After that, there was only dark... ******************************************************** NOTES: I have no idea what Sagara-daishou's wife's name was in truth. I do know that he had one, and that Koshima was his real name; Sagara Souzou is an alias he picked for himself. I assumed his wife's last name would be Koshima as well. "Koshima" is written to mean "small island." (Thank you, Kamo-san, for letting me know!) "Misaki" is written with the kanji for "seed" and "future/sequel/remainder"...and yes, it's a valid first name for a woman. I checked. =) "-daishou" means Boss, Captain, Commander. "-niichan" means Older brother. It's not only used for family; it can also be used for a male who is a few years older than you are. Obviously, I'm taking some liberties with the history of the Sekihoutai's founder. I'm trying to be as historically accurate as I can...but hey, this *is* fiction. So I'm not terribly worried about getting some things wrong, though I do like to be accurate when possible. =) On to the next... =) Ashley B. AKA Ashfae ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/8264/anime.html "I have no life! And I can prove it mathematically!" --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- For BUFFY or BABYLON 5, SPAWN or SOUTH PARK, NextPlanetOver.com sells the cool stuff you want. Shop now and get your FIRST ORDER FREE!! 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