"Five years." And what good had he done? Saved someone for a week. A month. Gave them a few more heartbeats before assholes or addicts turned or devoured them. The sleet was harder now, stinging, and he ducked under a tree, hearing the tiny pellets bounce off the branches like fingernails (or small bones).

Baka Deshi. How is that going for you? You can't kill them all. Kenshin flinched at Shishou's words. They cut into him one by one. It wasn't anything he hadn't told himself but when Shishou said them it set his teeth on edge. He knew. of course he knew. He knew everything. He understood everything. Why then did he not seem to get it?

"What do you expect me to do, Shishou? Let people suffer? Let the police handle it? They can barely handle one without being injected and drugged up-- an officer shot his partner in the face.He was so out of is mind that he couldn't even see. And meanwhile the strong and the drug syndicates can do whatever the hell they want. Do you just expect me to leave that, Shishou? To walk away? To not care about those who are suffering and dying right in front of me?"