So the years hadn't lost him after all. He wondered at times whether or not he would've preferred them to have done so. It mattered little in the end, Kenshin supposed. No matter what the winds whispered of Hitokiri Battousai, it would never change what he had been and what he would always be.
"I am a blade," Kenshin corrected her simply, speaking in Japanese chiefly now, for some particular reason wishing their conversation to be a private one. To his knowledge, only one of Ren's slaves knew the language, and a vampire's head was not one that could be read through typical means. "My purpose is the same as it was those years ago. I have merely changed hands. Tell me. Who was it that purchased you?"