Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki Nobuhiro and his various licensees. Saitou's gloves belong to Saitou (duh). Saitou belongs to Tokio. Don't mess with her.

Glove, Glove Mibu by wombat

L: So you want to know what our work is like? We're a team, the two of us. Total cooperation, share and share alike, that's my motto.

R: Well, of course it's *your* motto. You're the one who gets top billing every time. I don't know how you ever talked me into this deal.

L: (laughs nervously) Take it easy, it's only a few minutes until our next smoke break. Now, as I was saying, we do everything together, or at least take equal time for each one of us. Holding cigarettes, punching Sanosuke's lights out, fondling Tokio's bum-

R: Yeah, right. What about that whole high-and-mighty "left-handed stab" deal, huh? You get all the credit for just holding the stupid katana, and I'm stuck setting up your aim in the danger zone out front until you finally decide to get a move on. One of these days you're going to fall asleep on the job, and where am I going to be then? Lying on the ground and greeting Kujiranami's arm as "sempai", that's where.

L: Now, wait just a moment. I have to take that time to work up the proper fighting spirit and make sure our boss has a steady grip. It would be really embarrassing if the gatotsu blew up by slipping out of a sweaty left hand, and it's tough work being absorbent and strong yet buttery-soft.

R: Absorbent?! Who's the one who always gets soba stains from the chopsticks? Me, that's who! And our boss hasn't had sweaty hands since he asked Tokio out for a first date while his voice was still breaking, and you know it.

L: (frostily) May I remind you that while you're supposedly slaving away by lifting one mouthful of soba at a time, I'm supporting the entire bowl? That's much heavier, and you don't have to worry about hot broth spilling over the rim and scalding you.

R: So you don't like playing the support role either. What a surprise. When it's Gatotsu R Us, you're all lah-dee-dah, Mr. Left Hand Stabbing Diva, and what do I get out of it? Nothing.

L: Is that so? You know perfectly well that since our boss is right-handed, you get to hold the cigarette more than half the time.

R: Oh, right, and I should feel so lucky at the extra opportunity for nicotine stains and burn marks. You're just a-

L: Quiet! Here comes Tokio, and she has that look in her eye!

T: Hajime! Have you seen my gardening gloves anywhere? I can't find them anywhere, and I need them for cleanup-the dog threw up on the carpet again, and I really have to scrape off as much of the mess as I can before I put it into the wash! Hajime? ...oh well, this pair of his police gloves looks pretty old. I'm sure he won't mind if I use them and throw them out afterward.

L: Oh, the shame of it.

R: And you thought soba broth was bad.

L: I dunno-remember the time we had soba at the Kamiya dojo...?