Disclaimer: I own a Kenshin plushie, the manga, a DVD, a couple really old VHS tapes, and some figurines. Nothing more, fortunately. RurouKen is owned by Watsuki-sama, etc., etc. Used without permission, and not for profit.

The Oiran Who Cried Wolf
by misaoshiru


A groan. "What is it this time, Okita?"

"Want to go see an oiran?"


"'No'? Just like that?"

"Okita, women are a splendid waste of time."

"...I never would have taken you as..."

"Damn it, Okita, that's not what I said. How many times have I told you not to put words in my mouth?"

"Sorry, Saitou-san...but, please? She's supposedly the best oiran in all of Kyoto!"

"No, Okita."

"But it's already paid for, and the waiting list is so long that I had to threaten a lot of politicians to make the appointment... For all of that to go to waste..."

"...Were the politicians you threatened at least Ishin Shishi?"


"Fine. I'll give her five minutes. But you owe me for this, Okita."

"Yay! ...wait. How do I owe you for paying for you to see...hey! Wait, Saitou-san! Don't go yet!"

"You're the oiran?"

An almost imperceptible twitch. "Yes, I am. Is that surprising?"

"I never would have expected the 'best oiran in Kyoto' to look like...an anorexic snake. With bad hair."

"P...pardon?" Only her years of training kept Yumi from losing her temper.

"Do you have any fat on your body at all? I mean, aside from those oversized meat-bags on your chest. I appreciate breasts, but... Also, who did your makeup and hair? A blind, bald drunk?"

Okay. Screw decorum. "Excuse me! Do you have any idea who you're talking to? I'm Komagata Yumi! Men pay out the ass to spend a minute with them, and if you're going to waste my time, I ought to..."

A twitch, this time of Saitou's. "How dare you use that tone with me, woman?"

"And what is wrong with me using that tone, Mister Squinty Eyes? Oh, and you shouldn't go around insulting other people's hairdressers without first getting rid of those stupid bangs! It looks like a spider has--"

"Do not insult my hair. And even the Shogun's daughter is still a woman. Know your place."

"Are you expecting me to act subservient to a misogynist pig like you? Have you ever heard of a little thing called tact?"

"Misogynist? Tch. Misanthropist. Get it right. I just hate people."

"A wolf may be a wolf, but a misogynist pig is still a misogynist pig is still a misogynist pig, whatever you call him."

Another twitch. No one, and he meant no one, talked to Saitou Hajime like that. What was this woman's problem? And she said he lacked tact! He'd never met anyone so...so...!

In some bizarre way, it kind of turned him on.

"And another thing...mmf!"

He cut off her tirade with a forceful kiss. "Less talking, more sex."


"As you like. Just remember that you're getting paid for this."

"...I hate you."

"Aww, I hate you, too."


"How'd it go? ...Er..." Okita winced as Saitou gatotsu'd his topknot, fractions of a centimeter away from his head.

"Never play matchmaker for me again. Got it?"


The blade moved even closer. "Got it?"

"Umm, sure, Saitou-san. Savvy, as the nautical types say. Babbling...why am I babbling? Umm, bye..."

"Tch. Unsatisfactory, but it'll do for now."

Well. Near-death experience aside, Okita thought, that didn't turn out too bad. Now he just had to find a way to get Saitou-san and Tokio to meet...hopefully, he thought ruefully as he looked at his damaged topknot, something more subtle this time.


oiran - what Yumi was. The definition, according to hakubaikou's lovely story "Oiran" (which I've never finished reading...bad misaoshiru...) is "the highest class of courtesans"

Ishin Shishi: Sometimes translated as "patriots" or "imperialists." Basically, the side fighting against the Shinsengumi. (Which would, obviously, be the side Kenshin was on...Jeez, a RurouKen fic by me with no Kenshin in it. Amazing.

Author's Notes:
Written for Jupe-san as a birthday present because she wanted SaitouxYumi crack. Blame her, not me. -runs-