Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers are applicable here. I own nothing, and I make no profit on this. You also will make no profit if you attempt to sue me over this piece. I was serious when I said I owned nothing.

Note: This takes place during a later chapter of "To Finish the Revolution." (When I figure out which chapter exactly that one will end up being, I'll amend this.) I was going to include it in the main story, but it grew and grew, and was too light-hearted to fit in well with the rest. I think it probably works better on its own anyway.

"Excuse me, sir?" He waved an arm at the man, hoping to catch his attention, but the man pointedly ignored him.

Seta Soujiro, newly minted rurouni, sat down on a rock near the road and sighed at the few travelers on the road, all of which were looking anywhere but in his direction. This was happening with increasing regularity in his travels, and he had to wonder just what it was about him that turned people away in droves. They couldn't smell the blood, he knew. People never reacted this way to Himura-san, and that man had killed men enough to rival Shishio-sama's body count.

Maybe it's the smile, he thought, his head sinking into his hands. Maybe they can tell it isn't real. No. Himura-san's smile isn't always real, and people don't ignore him. Soujiro chuckled, a real smile flitting across his face. People don't ignore Himura-san because Himura-san wears bright pink. People can't ignore him.

Still, that didn't get him any closer to knowing which town he was about to enter. The recent heavy rains had washed away the road markers for several miles, and Soujiro had yet to successfully hail a passerby for information. If these people are the weak ones I'm supposed to protect, they aren't instilling much goodwill, he grumped.

"Oh well," he sighed, bouncing to his feet. "I guess I'm on my way to wherever, then!" Soujiro shouldered his traveling gear and resumed his walk. Traffic from the town ahead had picked up during the last mile or so, so he figured he was getting close to … somewhere. He sort of hoped he arrived before the sun set, although he didn't have money for a room anywhere.

"I'll just find a bunch of horses and borrow their home for the night," he said to the nearly empty road in front of him. It would be far from the first time he'd slept outside, after all. The twinge from the back of his head told him to drop the subject and move to safer territory, and Soujiro obeyed. It wouldn't do to start screaming on the road, he thought. People really wouldn't like me then.

He stopped in the middle of a group of people, noticing a little path that branched from the road. It looked relatively well worn, which he knew from recent experience meant a dwelling of some kind. Maybe whoever lived there would tell him what city he was entering. He'd had some unpleasant stays in cities when he'd asked townsfolk where he was. Everything suddenly became twice as expensive, and people treated him as though he had only half a brain. If he could find out before he got into the main city, he could probably avoid that.

Further inspection revealed a little dojo, its gate ajar and little trees blowing in the breeze. It looked like a friendly dojo, familiar somehow, which he found a bit odd. All the dojos he knew had been training grounds for Shishio-sama's soldiers, and there hadn't been any trees involved, certainly. He approached the gate, peeking his head through the opening.

"Hello? Is there anybody home this evening?" His voice went unanswered, and Soujiro looked back over his shoulder before slipping through the gate. There was laundry hanging to dry by a little well, a green hakama and pretty yellow kimono, and several white training gis. The homemaker herself was not in sight.

The feeling that he'd been here before just would not leave. Soujiro took a few steps forward, and called again. A young woman stepped out from what he assumed was a kitchen area, holding a wooden rice paddle. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food. Ah, the kimono is hers, then. I wonder whether her husband is home. Maybe I can talk him into letting me stay here tonight.

"Can I help you?" the woman called to him, beckoning him closer. "I'm just now finishing dinner, and there's more than enough to share."

"Hello there!" Soujiro chirped. "I was just wondering, since the signs were all washed away, what town this road leads to."

The woman smiled, and motioned for him to follow her inside. "You're right outside of Tokyo, actually. We're just on the edge of town." She handed him a bowl of rice and chopsticks, then patted the tatami for him to sit. "I'll go get the tofu."

Soujiro nodded, and glanced around. It was little, but well loved. Also very empty. He wondered where the master of the dojo was. Surely he'd be here, even if his students had gone home for the day. Soujiro couldn't understand why he'd be away when his wife was cooking dinner for him.

"So," she said, setting a plate of unevenly cubed tofu down and sitting across from him. "I'm Kamiya Kaoru. What brings you to Tokyo…" she left a pause for him to supply his name.

"Oh, I'm just wandering around, Kamiya-san," he beamed. This usually put people off from asking his name, and he hoped it would work again. "I've been a wanderer for a while now, and have seen all kinds of places."

"A wanderer," Kaoru murmured, her eyes taking on a new light. She motioned for him to eat.

Soujiro dipped his head in thanks and took a big bite of the rice. Oh. He thought he understood now why this woman's husband wasn't home at dinnertime. The rice was somehow, impossibly, both crunchy and soggy. He swallowed quickly, not caring to explore the slightly burned taste it left in his mouth. Another three bites followed in quick succession as he tried to consume the rice without tasting it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You like it?"

Soujiro tried to be honest, but he couldn't help himself. Before he could do anything about it, a huge smile spread across his face and he nodded mutely. Himura-san had said that the strong should help the weak, but he hadn't said anything about the strong lying to the weak. Maybe it was okay to mislead this woman.

"I wish Sano and Yahiko could see this," Kaoru muttered. "Those two never appreciate the effort I go through to cook for them. They're probably staying late at the clinic just to avoid my food."

He ate a piece of the tofu and immediately regretted it. "That's very rude of them, Kamiya-san," he managed to croak. That name, he thought. I've heard it before somewhere. He distractedly took another bite of tofu and was thrust back to his present situation by the bitter saltiness. He ate some rice to wash the taste out before remembering what the rice was like.

"Please, call me Kaoru," she insisted as she ladled more rice into his bowl. "Kamiya-san makes me feel old."

Soujiro almost whimpered at the addition of more rice, but made no comment. I'm strong. Strong enough to eat this. Or hungry enough, anyway. He might not get another meal for days.

"What made you decide to wander?"

He swallowed another chunk of tofu, and followed it with a bite of rice before answering. "I met a man who did something similar. I figure, if it worked for him, it should work for me, right?"

Kaoru smiled. "You simply have to stay and meet Kenshin," she said. "You probably have a lot in common. You know, he was a wandering for a long time himself."

"K-Kenshin?" Soujiro stammered, choking on a piece of tofu. "You mean H-Himura-san? He lives here?" He eats this? It's little wonder he's so small. How did he become so strong living on this food?

"Of course he does. He's lived here for over a year now. Is he the wanderer you met?" she asked eagerly.

Soujiro set his bowl down with a clatter and got to his feet. "I, uh, think I really need to be going, actually," he giggled. "Thank you for the, um," he trailed off. Was that really tofu? "Um, well thanks!" he finished with a grin.

A quick burst of Shukuchi put him back on the road before Kaoru could even stand.

"Tokyo," Soujiro muttered when he'd gotten out of sight of the dojo. "Of course the dojo was familiar. I spied on it for Shishio-sama. And that's where I heard 'Sano' before. He was the guy with hair." He picked up his pace, suddenly worried. "I hope Himura-san doesn't mind that I visited."