Books, mostly. Books were scattered all over the floor. Some were spilling off shelves or the large table that stretched down the center of the room. At the far end of the room a window was torn open violently, the shredded paper blowing all around the room. Misao watched a light piece of rice paper float past her eyes in morbid fascination. "What happened in here?" She murmured. Saitoh didn’t move. "Saitoh?" Suddenly coming back to life, he ran to the decimated window and peered around outside.He saw nothing.

"They took her," he groweled. Misao took an invoulantary step back. The feroucity in his voice, though not directed at her, was enough to make her hands tremble."Who?" Aoshi asked quietly as he joined the police officer at the window."Tokio, my wife.""Your your wa- wa- wife?" Misao stammered."You heard what I said, weasel girl," he snarled, a hint of his calm beginning to return. She sank to the floor in response. Wife? Who the hell in their right mind would marry and psyco like Saitoh Hajime?

"What did Himura say?" Aoshi asked, more or less unfazed by the revilation."Kidnappers," Saitoh said. "They take women. Generally between the ages of toddler to forty. The women are mostly intellectuals. There have been some seemingly unrelated cases," he said, turning away from the window with a forced casual shrug. "Maybe that’s the Battousai’s problem.""So what will you do?" Aoshi asked as he headed to the door. He paused and glanced at the still stunned Misao keeled over on the floor, then grabbed the back of her collar and hauled her to her feet. She obediently put her feet under her and walked dazedly into the hall and waited for the two men.

"Go to Tokyo," Saitoh responded in a tone that suggested Aoshi was thick for even having to ask. The younger man bistled but held his tounge. He brushed past Aoshi then froze. He stared at the floor. Misao stirred and glanced at the floor where he was looking."Wha-?" She saw a piece of fabric a few inches long and about two inches wide fluttering on the ground, stirred by the breeze that blew through the window. Saitoh firmly placed his foot on it when it threatened to blow away, then slowly bent down and picked it up. Misao caught a glimpse of a pattern of cherry blossoms over what was probably a brook. Judging from the weight of the fabric it was probably from a nice kimono.

A stricken look crossed Saitoh’s face quickly. ‘It must have been from his wife’s kimono,’ Misao realized. Saitoh swiftly tucked the scrap of silk away in his pocket and headed out the door impereously. As he brushed past Misao, he met her eye and paused. A strange look crossed his face. Misao shrank away from his hard gaze. Aoshi sweapt in to the rescue as he pushed Saitoh aside and strode down the hall.

"Come on Misao," he said in a commanding voice. He stopped at the top of the stairs, then paused and turned back to Saitou with a challenging hint to his eyes. "See you in Tokyo." Then he swept down the stairs, Misao following after him quickly.Alone, Saitoh stood in the hall. He took a drag on his cigarette and pulled the scrap of Tokio’s kimono out of his pocket. "See you in Tokyo. Hmph." He ran it back and forth between his fingers for a moment, then tucked it away again. He crushed his cigarette out on the windowsill at the top of the stairs, then headed downstairs, out the door, and to Tokyo.

Though is was a beautiful day, the residents of the Kamiya Dojo and their guests were far from enjoying the mood. Yahiko and Kaoru practiced religiously as Kenshin and Sano looked on with varrying degrees of nervousness. Megumi was peering with interest at Enishi who was writing something on a piece of paper. As the younger man wrote she quickly scribbled on a small pad. She had a pile of small objects, from pebbles to kitchen knives, sitting next to her. She picked up a stop watch and a stone, then tossed the rock at Enishi underhanded. He swatted it away easily. Megumi checked the stop watch and her mouth made a small ‘O’ of surprise.