Author's Note: For Ruroken Week 2016, I wrote seven different AUs. I'll be releasing each one over the next few weeks. Depending on the responses/reviews, I'll decide which ones to continue and prioritize. (This does not mean I'll abandon the rest, just that they'll be tackled later.) Thanks in advance for reading!

It was a quiet Saturday morning, when someone burst through the door of his laundromat. He picked himself off the counter, nearly slipping on the clean tile floor. He was about to call out a greeting when a pair of intense blue eyes locked onto him.

The owner of that gaze was a young woman, in a white gi and blue hakama. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and with a determined stride, she approached the counter. "You. Are you the one who's been putting up these posters?"

"Oro?"

Her hand slammed down before him, flattening a piece of paper under her palm. "Advertising that our dojo's understaffed and doesn't have enough money? That the land is no good? We might be scraping by, but let me tell you something." She stared him down, emphasizing each word. "I will never hand the dojo over to anyone."

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Miss?"

"What?"

"This one only moved here last week."

"Last week…" She repeated, but the edge in her voice was gone.

"And this one did not put up these posters. This one isn't interested in your dojo at all."

She blinked, unsettled. "You're not?"

"This one is perfectly happy with the laundry business. This one has no intention of obtaining another store." He assured her.

"Oh." She deflated almost instantly, before scowling. "Then who's the one doing this?!"

"This one has no idea."

"I'll have to keep looking." And with that, she left as quickly as she arrived.

However, it wasn't the last he saw of her. That afternoon, she nervously entered the laundromat, a basket overflowing with dirty clothes in her arms.

"Is that…?"

"Yeah." She nodded and set her basket on the counter. "I'm sorry about earlier, so I thought I might as well give you some business. My students' uniforms need to be washed gently, and I don't have time to do it myself. So, if it's alright with you, can you take care of them?"

"This one would be happy to clean the uniforms." He sifted through the gi and hakama, covered in dirt and dust. "And yours?" Too late, he realized his mistake.

She flushed crimson. "If I did, what would I wear?"

"Ah, good point." He tried to ignore the sudden heat he felt and determinedly turned his focus on the uniforms. "These should be ready in two hours. This one will also fold them, free of charge. Because you're a new customer, there's a twenty-five percent discount, so the total is…" He listed the sum, which she agreed to.

As she paid for the laundry, she introduced herself. "I'm Kamiya Kaoru, by the way. I run the Kamiya dojo down the street, but I guess you know that." The last was said with some mortification, but he chuckled.

"This one is Himura Kenshin. It's nice to meet you, Kaoru-dono."

"Kaoru-dono?" Her mouth pulled downwards. "No need for formality, just call me Kaoru. I can call you Kenshin, can I?"

"That's fine." It was refreshing actually, although he still stuck to using the honorific for her.

She didn't accept that immediately, and from her perch on the counter, she called out. "Aren't we around the same age?"

At the end of the hall, he was swirling the clothes in a basin of water, and he looked up. "You can't be thirty."

Her eyes widened. "Thirty?! I thought you were twenty!"

"This one is used to hearing that." He shrugged and began to scrub detergent into an off-white gi. It was better to remove as much dirt first, before putting the washers to good use. "Then, are you twenty, Kaoru-dono?"

"…nineteen. I guess I should call you Himura-san." Her lips pursed.

"No." For some reason, he disliked it, and he hastily added. "This one is still fine with just 'Kenshin'."

"Alright." She then took over the conversation, explaining that she was a kendo instructor and was enrolled in a teaching program at the local college. After he loaded the uniforms in the washer, she told him about her students and the cause of the discolored clothing.

"Since the weather's been so nice, the boys wanted to spar outside. I said 'that doesn't mean you can roll around on the ground', but they ended up doing it anyway. Then, I found out they watched an action movie, and they wanted to copy the stunts. Honestly." She shook her head in dismay.

"Well, they're energetic." He said.

"Definitely. At least they're putting the energy into kendo. Did you practice martial arts?" She meant it as a friendly question, but he was momentarily taken aback.

"Oro…" Luckily, he was saved by her vibrating cell phone.

"Sorry, Kenshin. Let me take this." She sighed before heading outside. Her call was long and it must have annoyed her, because she impatiently tapped a foot. It made him smile.

By the time she returned, the uniforms were already tossing in the dryer. "That was a family friend who likes to talk. Anyway, where did we leave off?"

"This one can't remember."

"Hmm." She looked over the walls. "You said you just moved here last week. Does that mean I'm your first customer ever?"

"Yes, you are. It's an honor for this one." He inclined his head, in a subservient gesture.

"Hey, stop that." But she laughed. "So what made you go into laundry?"

"This one thinks it's relaxing."

She scrunched up her nose. "That's…interesting, but that means you'll have less stress in your life. You'll live longer."

That was almost the exact opposite of what he had been told years ago. "Also, this one's family owned a dry cleaning business."

"Did you help out?"

"No, this one was too young. This one does remember when it closed, because there had been an ambulance outside. This one was told that it was bird flu, and this one's parents had been sent to the hospital. This one had been told they would return, but they never did."

"That must have been hard on you." She said softly. Abruptly, the dryer's alarm went off.

"It was a long time ago."

After he folded the uniforms back into her basket, she carried it off and waved goodbye. "See you around, Kenshin."

"This one will be here." Needless to say, the rest of the day was dull.

Kaoru didn't show up the next afternoon, but a man with unruly hair did. He was about Kaoru's age, but taller and rougher. He carelessly dropped off a foul-smelling jacket and dug in his pockets for change. "So when should I pick this up?" He asked around the toothpick in his mouth. As soon as Kenshin answered, he pivoted to leave and lifted a hand. "Later."

Kenshin grimaced, looking at the embossed character on the back. 'Evil' indeed. He wouldn't have been surprised if the jacket was soaked in sweat.

Well, business was business, even if it smelled horrible.

A few college students drifted in, and while they were polite, none of them lingered after dropping off their baskets. He silently fell into the routine of scrubbing away stains, separating lights from darks, and folding the dry clothes. As the hours passed, the clean laundry dwindled, until only the first jacket was left. The owner returned at sunset, swiping up the folded fabric and calling out 'thanks!', and left before the minute was up. At least he could close for the day. He was about to lock up, when Kaoru staggered in front of the laundromat.

Her arm was covered in blood.

He threw open the door, unconsciously reaching for her. "Kaoru-dono!"

"I'm fine, I just came back from the doctor's." She gave a weak smile. "I found those bastards who want to buy my dojo, and they pushed it too far this time. I can't even press charges; I got this gash from falling. Well, it was their fault I fell, but no one's going to believe that. I really am fine, Kenshin." She insisted.

"Then, Kaoru-dono, you should be home resting. I'll help you walk." He was ready to carry her out, but her nails bit into his wrist.

"I can't have my uniform bloody, not in front of my students. Can you clean it for me? Please?"

"Once this one sees that you're alright." He led her to sit in the back room, keeping the door open so the lobby's tinted glass windows were visible.

Bandages tightly wrapped around her upper arm, but she still looked strained. He offered her painkillers, which she gladly accepted, and as she choked down the pills, he talked to distract her.

After the outbreak of bird flu ended, he lived with his neighbors. Akane worked at a textile factory, while Kasumi and Sakura attended a rundown girls' school. Circumstances had led to them boarding together, but they insisted on giving him a futon and a place at their table. They had been kind to him, but it hadn't lasted for long.

On a deceptively peaceful evening, a gang of bloodthirsty men stormed the apartment.

Akane had fought them off, Kasumi had tried to run for the police, and Sakura had barricaded him in the only bedroom. When the police arrived, they were greeted with broken glass, thrown furniture, three corpses, and one sobbing boy.

After that, he was adopted by the eccentric potter Hiko Seijuro and his life became defined by Hiten Mitsurugi.

"What's Hiten Mitsurugi?" The painkillers seemed to be working, and she drowsily closed her eyes.

"It's a form very close to kenjutsu, almost dead."

"You did practice martial arts." She smiled to herself. "If I had known…"

"It was this one's fault. This one didn't choose to say so."

"It's alright if you didn't tell me. We all have things we want to hide."

He couldn't reply to that, but as soon as she fell asleep, he noticed shadows passing by the front. They were heading down the street, and he quietly searched the back closet. There was a broom that had snapped a while back, but the handle was still good. Satisfied, he took it with him and slipped his feet into his shoes.

He locked the door behind him.

The Kamiya dojo was closed, but there was a group of thugs approaching the windows. He adjusted the wooden broom handle in his grip. It had been years since he fought real opponents, but he could make an exception tonight.

When he returned, he washed her uniform and his shirt with bleach.

In the following week, he didn't see her at all. Part of him wanted to visit her, but he had felt some presences lingering around and thought it was best to avoid her for now.

Kenshin rubbed his sore knuckles together. He was unscathed otherwise and made himself scarce as soon as they ran off. After that, he had driven her home before returning to his own apartment. The laundromat kept him busy enough, but even as he tried to slip back into the routine of cleaning, he still glanced at the door from time to time.

In the corner of his eye, he caught blue and white, and he snapped to attention. However, it was only a young boy, lugging a basket of familiar uniforms. The boy poured a fistful of coins and bills onto the counter. "That should be enough."

He took his time sorting through the money. "Are you from the Kamiya dojo?"

"Yeah, and you're the guy who cleaned our uniforms." Still, the boy eyed him suspiciously.

"How is Kaoru-dono?"

"The hag's recovering." The boy turned away and gruffly said. "Don't worry, we're keeping an eye on her. We walk her back to her house, and she just supervises our practices."

Relief flooded him, and it lasted even as he treated the uniforms' prolific green stains. Later, he noticed a large sign, embedded in the grass across from the dojo. The writing was cramped near the end, to fit the entire message, but it clearly read: 'Get Well Soon, Sensei'.

He had never been a heavy sleeper, and in his apartment, he startled awake to sudden heat. The air was far too hot. He stumbled out, pulling the fire alarm before knocking on his neighbors' doors.

That was when he heard footsteps on the stairs, almost too soft to be heard. He glanced up to see that the smoke detector had been disabled. So, those were the arsonists. When the last neighbor opened up, he quickly explained the situation and borrowed an umbrella.

He followed them out, and in the light of the flames, he recognized their faces. He wasn't the only one who remembered, for they ran faster. Not that it helped them. One slightly bent umbrella later, he dragged two back for the recently arrived police.

Fortunately, or unfortunately if one wanted to see it that way, he had…an acquaintance in the police force. Within half an hour, all of the thugs had been arrested, including the pair of brothers who were the ringleaders. They were also the ones who had wanted to seize the Kamiya dojo, so now, every loose end was tied up.

Everyone else had evacuated, he heard. His apartment had sustained the most damage, and while he had to move out, he was only glad the fire hadn't spread further.

"Don't get into any more trouble." His acquaintance's parting words were accompanied with cigarette smoke.

"This one will try not to." He tried for saint-like innocence, but Officer Saito only narrowed his eyes before driving off.

"Kenshin!" Slowly, he turned to see Kaoru running towards him, the edge of her dark blue bathrobe flapping. Her hair was in a loose braid, and her face was stricken with concern. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Thank goodness." She sighed and leaned forward enough to clasp his shoulder with her uninjured arm. Her hand was warm. "I was worried."

He opted for an oblivious smile. "There was nothing to worry about."

"Hmph, acting all brave." A scoff escaped from her, but her expression softened. "Do you want to come over? For tea?"

Perhaps, it was the late hour or the excitement, but something in him gave.

Her house was empty, and the small altar did not escape him. Kaoru noticed, tensing as she set two cups onto a tray. "My father was killed in the line of fire, six months ago."

"This one is sorry to hear that." He carried the kettle off the stove and poured the tea for her first.

"I won't pretend that I don't miss him. It's lonely, living by myself." She settled in her chair, stirring the steaming liquid with a spoon. "But I'll be okay. I have to be. Anyway, what about you, Kenshin? What are you going to do?"

"This one hasn't thought that far." He admitted as he seated himself across from her.

"Then, do you want to stay here? Just until your apartment is fixed." She added, a blush tinting her cheeks. "And only if you want to, but there's plenty of space here and our schedules are different enough so we won't disturb each other. We could negotiate on rent, although it makes me feel bad to charge you. Um…"

"If this one can propose something." He gently interjected, holding up a hand. "This one can pay with cooking. It is the least this one can do, especially with your injury."

"You can cook too?" A short laugh escaped her and she pouted, conceding. "Fine, but only if your meals are better than mine."

"In that case, it's settled." He smiled. Besides, he always did like a challenge.