A/N (warning for one paragraph in the last third of the story that briefly mentions suicidal thoughts).

-x-

Damn it all.

Katsura Kogoro found himself cursing under his breath as Ikumatsu poured him a third cup of tea. Although he had hoped it would bring him focus, he was still reeling in quiet panic.

"Would you like anything else, my love?" Ikumatsu asked, the concern evident in her voice.

If only I could stare at her for the rest of my life, I'd never have a reason to be stressed again…She can read me so well; I can hide so many things from my warrior subordinates, but she sees through all the lies so effortlessly. Women. Why aren't there more of them in our ranks? We try so hard to be perfect, but nothing can defeat a woman's intuition.

He sent her away with a shake of his head, feeling oddly detached.

"Just some time alone to think things through, please."

She bowed and left the room.

As soon as she left, the chaos returned to his head. This wasn't supposed to be happening! Only a few hours ago he was celebrating what promised to be the most important accomplishment of his campaign to date, but now the pride and satisfaction he felt at the alliance with Satsuma was falling away as quickly as it had come.

Why do I ever dare to hope that the tide of the war is turning in my favor? Am I that stupid?

When things went wrong, they went wrong in waves, and this new development threatened to become a roiling tsunami that could bury the fledgling Satcho force if it was not dealt with harshly and immediately. Time was important here to minimize the damage already done. Now was not the time for panic or second-guessing. It was the time for action.

Three quarters of an hour after the Satcho meeting had disbanded, one of his informants had found him at his residence as he was relaxing with Ikumatsu.

The frantic words he told him were distressing—Saeki Matasaburo was dead, found murdered next to a local woman only a few blocks away from the inn where the meeting was taking place. He had been killed in an alleyway on a dark side-street, with no living witnesses left to shed light on the crime.

To anyone else it looked like just another soul snuffed out anonymously on the Kyoto streets; a typical everyday occurrence during these troubled times, except for one very important detail—Saeki had an unusual occupation: he was employed by Katsura as a Choshu spy that had infiltrated the Shinsengumi.

An important pawn had been removed from board.

Katsura had taken several long months (and unsuccessful attempts) before managing to establish a spy within the ranks of the Shinsengumi, and Saeki was the perfect man for the job; loyal, patient, quiet. A great soldier; the type of man Kogoro trusted sincerely not to double-cross him because he was so good at taking orders. For all the work Katsura had gone to, it had been worth it, as he had learned more details about the plans and workings of the Shinsengumi than ever before. His death would be a difficult loss to accept.

But that wasn't the worst of it. No, not by a long shot.

In addition to news of the murder, his informant also brought him a note, left conspicuously with the murdered corpse. A note that cast suspicion on nearly all of Kogoro's associates; a note that would prove responsible for many sleepless nights in the future.

The handwriting on it had been sloppy, as if it had been done quickly under duress; Katsura wondered which one of them had written it. Kondo? Saitou? Okita? Hijikata?

Kogoro—here's your filthy spy! Enjoy your new alliance, while it lasts. New friends can be difficult to play with, especially when you don't know whom to trust. Looks like we resume command of the spy game. Your move.

They were taunting him! He knew the note was created purposefully for his eyes as a brash display of Shinsengumi superiority. It was meant to get under his skin and make him question his abilities as a leader.

It was Katsura's job to make sure the pieces of the Choshu puzzle fit together as flawlessly as they could; he was used to the fact that unexpected setbacks frequently caused chaos. Sometimes the challenge was to find the missing piece, other times it was throwing out a piece that just didn't fit. He could deal with it, he told himself.

Damnit. Damnit Damnit. This changes things in a big way. Now I have to be careful of the inner circle of my own regime; one of them does not fit in my puzzle.

Only the attendees of the meeting knew about the Choshu-Satsuma alliance in advance; Eight men, (plus Kenshin, he supposed—if he was worth counting. Katsura had told Shishio nothing), and apparently one of them was double dipping for the Shinsengumi. He knew whom he trusted. Shinsaku. Ito, to a lesser extent. The men whom he considered friends, as they had been with him the longest.

And Himura. Also Himura. Not an evil bone in that youngster's body. He would be easy to find, too, even in the middle of the night, because he was one of the most predictable men he knew. He would be at the inn where Katsura had arranged for him to stay, probably trying to drown the ghosts of his past with sleep or alcohol.

Himura. That's whom he would contact first; have him assisting in the search at first light. Himura Kenshin.

Who, as it turned out, just happened to pick that night to go missing…

-x-

At least two dozen clamorous voices added to the harsh clink of dishes and glassware to give life to the night at Inoki's place. Midnight was prime; and the bar was filled with pretty ladies and wild men, all dressed to impress. The sort of dive one would have to know about in order to find, Inoki's was a hotspot for gamblers, prostitutes, drug addicts, and just about anyone involved in less acceptable activities in the Kyoto area.

It was a great place to hide.

"See!" The old man was at his stories again, practically shouting to be heard above the din. "Taro-san! Look, I wasn't kidding ya! The tooth, see, I told ya, it's gone!"" A fat, pink thumb stretched the veiny skin of his cheek out, showing off the inside of his unclean mouth and the bloody spot in his gums where the old man's tooth had once been. Disgusting. Just by looking at it, one could guess how rotten it smelled.

"I told ya dat gal was a firecracker! But she was worth it! Yee-haw! Punched me right to the kisser." Slapping his leg, the old man keeled over in guffaws, winking drunkenly at the crowd. Spit visibly flew from his mouth as he laughed. The others at the table howled with him.

The man not named Taro cringed but smirked, trying his best to blend in with the crowd. It did feel good to be laughing again, even if everyone here was three times his age and a third his maturity; soft-shelled, disgusting perverts—undisciplined weaklings, every one of them. He could take them all down with his eyes closed.

It would feel even better if he were allowed to pick a fight, do something to release this pent-up energy. He'd love to kill a man just to smell the iron in his blood. But that wasn't going to happen, not tonight anyway. Katsura had instructed him to be as invisible as he could in order to not stand out, and Shishio Makoto intended to follow his commands down to the letter. He was far too skilled to risk his future by blowing his cover (just yet). Ha.

He had to stick to his plan.

Taro! Really! God, sometimes Katsura just made him seethe! Shishio was proud of the name he had made for himself and its meaning (a marvelous name, a name fit for prophet!), and the fact that Katsura had picked his cover name to be something so plain and boring as damned Taro—just seemed even more like a personal insult. Taro…seriously?

The same old man (Tetsuo? Tetsuya? Shishio couldn't even remember with certainty, but instead identified him by his long off-white moustache and greasy bald head) had settled into yet another tall tale, ignoring the face that nobody in the vicinity was even listening. (A roach! Can ya'lls believe that! A roach in his ear after six months ear-ache, my son-in-law practically went deaf before they found out. Blah blah blah blah…)

I can't believe Katsura is making me associate with these moronic imbeciles.

At the subtle signal of his raised glass, the waitress (a pretty little thing with heavy bangs and thin lips), filled his cup again with sweet warm sake. After quaffing half the glass straight away, he was finally beginning to feel the pleasant glow from the alcohol relaxing away the edge of his anger, when an urgent voice woke him from his reverie.

"Taro-san! Taro-san, K-san sent me with a message for you! Sorry it's so late, it took me a long time to find you, please don't be mad…" The go-betweener recoiled back, as is he was afraid the hitokiri was going to strike him. He already had a bruise on his nose.

Without listening to the rest of his story, Shishio snatched the envelope roughly out of the youth's hands, the anger at Katsura flaring up its ugly head once again. Damned Kogoro, asking more from me already. It had been miserable enough serving guard duty that evening aside Battousai; he had spent most of his time obsessively trying to keep his ki in check as to avoid detection. It was idiotic. If it was so important to keep his identity a secret, why intentionally expose himself to the one person most likely to pick him out?

Within the envelope were several banknotes and silver coins; payment enough to support him through the rest of the month on the meager lifestyle followed by a hitokiri in hiding. The money didn't really matter to Shishio—not at this point in his career, anyways. As long as he could afford to eat and replace his clothing when it got soaked with blood, that was enough; the rest would come later. Now was the time to find fame and notoriety, to make an impression on the higher-ups, to learn everything he could about his superiors and the system. Set deep roots. Bide his time. Make connections. Money and power would come later, after the war was over and the phase of rebuilding had begun.

The second item in the envelope was a smaller envelope, black and blank on the outside. Shishio knew what it was instantly, feeling paranoid and looking over his shoulder to make sure no one with looking. It was an alcohol-fueled mistake to open the package here; someone might see, someone might know. Stupid, stupid; if he kept this up he'd get caught…He needed to get out somewhere more private.

A few minutes later, alone in his small rented room above Inoki's, Shishio Makoto carefully untied the string holding the envelope closed, wondering whose fate would be sealed in ink. It would be a black card within the black envelope, a single name written on it in white.

Except that it wasn't.

The card was black all right, but instead of a single name, an entire message was written in Katsura's delicate script.

"T— Emergency matters. To the point: you're on call because I have misplaced Himura; There is a Shinsengumi spy within my inner circle. Few that I can trust but especially not the Satsuma or Tosa leaders. Extremely important the spy is found and dealt with. If you find Himura tell him to see me immediately. I'm worried he may be in danger. The spy must die; he may be difficult to oust. Hassle the Shinsengumi. Take out a captain; it does not matter which one. Shinsaku and I will be working the problem from different angles, but your anonymity could be valuable in this situation. Listen. Don't be stupid. Check back with me tomorrow night in person. Under no circumstances are you to expose your cover to anyone –K.

Shishio's lips slowly curled up into a smile. Tomorrow his blade would quench its thirst.

-x-

The soldier formerly known as the great Battousai the Manslayer sat perched on the edge of the bridge, his bare feet dangling loosely above the meandering creek. Seven days ago the water had been frozen, though now it was bubbling vigorously, full of life as it ran down its meandering path to the sea. The taste of spring was palpable on his tongue; it wouldn't be long now and the cherry blossoms would be blooming, filling the park with beauty.

It would be his first spring since that fateful winter night…

The peaceful ambience could not clash more severely with the despair in Kenshin's heart.

Midnight had brought a fit of restlessness down upon him, and he followed the black spot in his conscience back out to the murder site, only to find the streets cleared. Only the ghosts remained, begging for blood.

Yasuko. Her name had been Yasuko. Peasant-born, a meek young lady without a last name to call her own. Not Yukishiro Tomoe, nothing like Tomoe , except that she was pretty, young, and dead. Speaking with the neighbors that lived near the scene of the murder, he found she was married to a mediocre merchant that made his money selling fish at the market. She had two young sons, and always seemed like a courteous and devoted wife to the neighbors. Nothing particularly interesting about her backstory, just a typical civilian, the type that he could never see himself targeting. Women and children should be left out of the bloodshed.

Still, not everyone was as careful as Himura was with human life; plenty of innocents have died anonymously in the conflict. There were too many young people with their whole lives ahead of them destined to be forgotten by the paths of history, too many unmarked graves. As a hitokiri, he was usually only given a few names at a time; to an extent, he could be selective about who he murdered. He would never kill an innocent woman—he told himself— (except for that one time, that one time that keeps haunting him).

Of course, the man had been the true target, and the young lady only an unfortunate piece of bad luck, a local who had stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. No one seemed to know the male victim's name or affiliation, though he did not wear a uniform, and Kenshin thought he was likely Satcho. Based on that, Kenshin could hazard a guess that the killer was Shinsengumi, but he wasn't at all sure, and had no proof.

Even worse was the thought of the woman's young children, now fated to live their entire lives without their mother's support. How had the weight of it all not crushed him before? Every proud warrior Battousai had killed in the conflict likely left behind someone, a wife, a son, a mother. The thought of a thousand grieving Tomoes tugged him down deeper and deeper in an inescapable spiral.

He tried to remember the ferocious courage he had felt when he had left his master; how confident he had been that the world could change, that his sword could help forge a new era. Instead, he felt as if each swing made the era darker and darker.

It was painful enough that he had killed so many—two hundred, maybe close to three hundred when all was said and done—but, from there the effects of his monstrous murders spread out like a poisonous spiderweb across the entire countryside, affecting thousands who lost spouses, family, friends, children. How could it ever be conceivable to atone for that much blood?

It wasn't, the voice of reason within him whispered. The best way you could avenge their murdered souls would be to bring their murderer to justice. If they called out for blood, give it to them. His sword felt very cold at his side. For the first time, he found himself wondering what the process of seppuku would feel like. If it would end quickly. The aftereffects of the alcohol he had drunk the night before (and into the day, he thought glumly) were still hammering away in his head. An empty bottle lay at his feet.

A woman's inhuman scream pulled Kenshin out of these dark thoughts with the shock of a drowning man being rescued from a freezing lake. Of course, his first thought was back to Tomoe, back to the night he killed her, but then he shook that ghost away and stood up at full attention.

A violent spectacle was playing out in the center of the field before him; a crowd had already gathered to watch as a ruffian tossed a woman into the dirt by her hair and began shouting obscenities at her.

"You dirty whore! I loved you!" The man's voice was disfigured by alcohol and tears. "Why," he wailed, "why did you sleep with him? Why? Tell me, damn it. Whore! You were supposed to be my wife! I loved you!" The circle of onlookers remained motionless, but Battousai was running, trying to close the difference. He already had enough female blood on his hands to watch another girl die today.

The disgruntled lover continued to shriek and started kicking the young woman so hard Kenshin could hear the meaty snap of breaking bones. Sobbing, the female tried to stand up and run, but she tripped before she had even managed to take a proper step, and the husband was on her again.

Rather, he would have been, if not for the flash of red as a sword was thrust through his shoulder and twisted, bringing the man down in a heap of quivering flesh and bone. Kenshin stopped on a dime as he saw the iconic white mountain-top triangle pattern on the sleeves of the blue uniform, and realized exactly whom he was dealing with.

Shinsengumi. And not just one.

A group of four uniformed members broke up the gathered crowd with threats and angry gestures. Three of them were men he recognized: the one that had actually done the deed was Okita Souji, now sheathing his katana and speaking energetically with his comrades. Two other magnificent swordsmen added to the quartet: Nagakura Shinpachi, commander of Shinsengumi's 2nd Squad, and Saito Hajime, commander of the 3rd Squad. Both men stood proud and tall, with daisho worn conspicuously at their sides; very much ready to kill. The fourth was a man Kenshin did not recognize; short and slight of build with short hair cut at level with his ears.

He shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. Keeping the Kyoto peace was one of the tasks of the Wolves of Mibu, and Kenshin was relieved one of them had rescued the ailing woman. It was better than seeing her blood spilled on the ground.

But none of that changed that fact that Battousai would rather avoid a simultaneous fight with four Shinsengumi swordsmen; especially when his emotions were raging out of control and his head was still feeling the poisonous effects of the sake from the earlier morning.

Like he was walking on eggshells, he slowly turned around, trying to calm his heart, trying to slow the deep flow of his ki. Internally, he was cursing his red hair, oh how it made him stand out in this godforsaken city of black! With all his willpower, he found himself urging the four men not to look, to keep their attention on the recovering girl on the ground. Evening was settling in on the city, and the copse of trees that hid the bridge he was sitting on earlier seemed a safe enough sanctuary, if he could just make it that far. His tiptoeing did not seem nearly fast enough, but after what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the safety of cover.

Kenshin could stay here until the danger passed. He could spend all night listening to the babble of the little stream if he had to; the night air was chilly, but not unbearable.

Minutes passed, and day turned to darkness.

-x-

"You sensed him too, Saitou?"

Okita Souji was staring off into the darkness, into the direction that the red-haired man had walked off. The moon cast enough light that the young Shinsengumi member could just barely see the copse of trees on the edge of the clearing.

Saito nodded, staring in the same direction with equal intensity. "Battousai… Choshu filth. We kill him and we kill their morale; how is that to send a message back to Katsura Kogoro! Maybe we can mail him his precious manslayer's head as a victory gift! This is a chance we cannot pass up."

Nagakura chimed in, his spiky hair bobbing excitedly as he spoke. "You really think the Choshu would let their precious Battousai be out sleeping alone in some park on this side of the city? I mean, for us to find him seems like incredible luck, but doesn't this smell a bit like a set-up to you?"

Saito smiled at the older warrior. "I don't think so, not this time. Something doesn't feel right about him, that's certainly true, but I think it's more of a personal weakness than an intentional set-up. He's soft. Always has been. Cares too much about saving the world and not enough about his own personal well-being. Maybe he finally broke and wants us to put him out of his pathetic misery."

"You don't think, do you, that he's on the case trying to find the spy? Do you? I mean, this would be the right neighborhood where I killed Matasaburo last night. You know, if he's on to something, we can't let him live. This will go down as the night Battousai dies. There's no way he could survive a four-on-one."

Tani Sanjuro, 7th Squad leader, always had annoyed Saito Hajime, and the fact that he had insinuated that none of them could beat Battousai man-to-man filled Saito with so much anger, he was half-inclined to kill him right then and there. He would rather prove his superiority one-on-one with the strongest of the Ishin Shishi, but sometimes the cause had to take precedence. Aku Sok Zan. Kill evil immediately. Battousai's fate was as good as sealed, for the good of the Shogunate and the good of the Shinsengumi. Choshu's best sword had to die.

-x-

A soft heavenly glow illuminated a quaint cabin in the woods, and Kenshin's dead bride stood in front of the doorway, her eyes soft and filled with tender emotion.

"Kenshin. Himura Kenshin. My love. My one and only." Tomoe's face was surrounded by clouds as she reached out a perfect porcelain hand to touch the scarred side of his face. He knew he was dreaming, but he wanted to believe it was real; he'd do anything to avoid waking up.

"Please don't forget me, Kenshin. Please don't forget that I died to protect you; I valued your life, Kenshin. Please, you need to cherish it as well." Her words turned into wails, and she slid out of view, crying. He could hear her soft footsteps as she floated to a place he could not follow.

FOOTSTEPS! Kenshin jumped awake in an instant, and not a moment too soon, as a silver slash shrieked past his head and into the bush next to him.

Okita cursed and turned, trying to find flesh, but by then Battousai had unsheathed his sword and blocked the attack with a metallic clang. Another blade came from the darkness, which he dodged, but did not see the third until it had grazed the flesh of his left upperarm, drawing blood. It was Saitou's blade, and it was all Himura could do to jump away from the attack before the katana tasted his neck. All four of them! How could he have let himself get corned with such stupidity!

Surprised and outnumbered, it took Kenshin a few moments longer than it should have to remember his training. He dismissed the urge to run full into battle with Ryu Tsui Sen, and instead turned tail and ran. I'm faster than them, he thought, with the possible exception of Okita Souji. Still, at least this way, if they catch me I'll be able to fight them one on one, instead of all at once.

Often the man who wins isn't the strongest, it is the one who is most intelligent.

In the dark, he didn't know which way he was running, and the lowest branches of the trees ripped at his face with vengeful ferocity. They'll be able to follow me by the sound I'm making; I sound like a heard of elephants crashing through the brush. He could hear them close behind, making just as much noise.

It seemed like a miracle when the canopy finally opened up above him, and he was once again out in the open, buildings in sight. Civilians scattered in front of him, screaming. He had nearly made it to the the buildings, and was planning to jump up on the low roof when Okita caught up with him. Kenshin turned to evade his opponent's thrust, and in response spun around to try and plant a Ryu Kan Sen. Somehow Okita managed to sidestep, but by now Saito had caught up—in his effort to change the direction of his momentum and land a gatotsu thrust on Himura, somehow he wound up bumping Okita off balance, which gave Battousai a chance to start running again.

A quick leap brought him up to the roof and he took off, trying to elongate his stride and max out his speed, knowing Okita likely was faster. The wound on his upper arm was bleeding, but it did not hurt, and he was not overly concerned that it was a serious injury. A quick glance behind showed him three men following—he saw no signs of the fourth, the short one that he didn't know.

He pressed on, leaping from the first building to another, feeling the pressure of Okita on his tail. Okita swung at him again just as he neared the far edge; Himura leapt to avoid it, and landed on the ground. He was just about to leap up again when he heard a loud shout from across the street.

"Battouuusaaaai! Battouuusaaaai! This way! Katsura sent me!"

A iron grate along the side of the road was swung up, revealing a rectangular hole in the ground, and two heads were visible peering up from the whole—one a dark-haired soldier dressed in Choshu red, the other a young boy of about 12. The older one was waving dramatically in encouragement and shouting.

The moment of distraction was enough, and this time Okita did manage to hit him hard across his left shoulder; a last-second twist had somehow saved Kenshin's neck from getting the worst of the damage. Blood flew as Kenshin yelped out in pain, simultaneously turning to perform a counterattack—this time his Ryu Kan Sen hit, and Souji was knocked against the building they had just jumped from. Now was his chance!

Saitou and Nagakura had, by now, caught up, and were only a few steps away as Kenshin sprinted towards the pit ahead. He dove in headfirst, rolling as his head connected with the muddy floor, not believing the two would be able to get the grate shut in time to avoid a nasty close-quarters fight with three Shinsengumi members. Oh well. At least it would be a three-on-three fight this time…

"Damn it, Yuuki! Lock the damned door! Do you f**ing WANT to die! I can only hold it closed for so long, kid!" The older one was trying to hold the gate shut as the heavyset boy was messing with the lock; meanwhile, Saitou was trying to pull the gate up with his fingers, and Nagakura was slashing down at the soldier's fingers and face with his katana. Kenshin sprang up to help.

"I got it, I GOT IT!" the kid shouted, tears streaking down his face and a look of pure unbridled terror in his eyes. He crashed down to the floor weeping.

The other two lept back in relief, following the underground passage further into the darkness. Kenshin's knuckles were bleeding, and he could see that the other man had also taken several gashes to his hands while trying to hold the gate shut. He's older than me, but not by much. Young for a Choshu. Then it hit Kenshin—the tight, fluffy ponytail high on his head, violet eyes…he recognized him!

"You're the guard from yesterday! Katsura sent you to find me in the middle of the night? Why? Who are you?" Kenshin felt confused. Had he missed out on something important?

"Taro Sho, Katsura's new personal security advisor. Now shut up, I'll tell you more later. We've got to get out of here; it won't take the Shinsengumi long to find another way down into the tunnels. Unless of course you'd rather stand your ground and fight! Ha!"

"And who's he?" Kenshin asked, pointing to the child.

"I'm, uh, Mochizuki Yuuki, uh, sir. And Taro kidnapped me! I'm the prison-master's son; he made me steal all the keys to the prison gates. We're underneath the jail now, sir. There's an entire network of tunnels under the city. Please get me out of here! I didn't want to be involved in any of this!"

A fierce glance (did his eyes just flash red?) from Taro quieted the frightened boy, but something unspoken had set Kenshin on edge. He kept up his guard, even though the air was quiet and the threat of Shinsengumi seemed all but forgotten. The tunnel continued on and on in front of them.

-x-

A/N

Thanks so much for reading my silly story.

Wow this was a difficult chapter for me to write!

I really struggled trying to write a believeable Shishio-I didn't want him to seem too soft, but he still turned out a bit different from RK Shishio; I don't see how going through such a horrific near death experience like he did wouldn't change him at least a little bit. At this point, I think the biggest difference between him and Kenshin is that everything Shishio does is for himself and his own ambitions (he values his own life above all others and doesn't give a shit about anyone else, except when it'll serve his goals), and that everything Kenshin does is for others (at this point, he really doesn't value his own life at all, but he wants to make life better for others, especially innocents).

Most of the seemingly random Choshu/Shinsengumi characters that show up in this story are historical figures (Tani Sanjuro, Nagakura Shinpachi, Saeki Matasaburo...)

Expect to see more Shinsengumi in the next chapter. They got unfairly rushed in this chapter and I know it. Also, Yuuki (fun girly name) is based on my friend's male pet bird who shares that name:) He's gonna show up more!

Also, I really should get a Beta; my grammar is not very good :( I'm trying though... I'm trying very hard!