Amidst the hum of daily life, travelers and samurai alike wove through the crowd, each carrying their own story, their own purpose.

A lone figure moved with quiet grace through the bustling streets, his red kimono and flowing ponytail swaying with each step. A reverse-blade sword hung at his waist, a symbol of a past he sought to leave behind. Kenshin Himura’s violet eyes carried a softness that belied the years of bloodshed he had once endured, yet there was a keen awareness in his gaze—always watching, always ready.

Nearby, Kaoru Kamiya stood outside her dojo, her arms crossed as she scanned the street with a determined expression. The Kamiya Kasshin Style lived on through her teachings, and despite the struggles, she would not let her father’s legacy fade. When her eyes caught sight of Kenshin, her posture relaxed, a small smile touching her lips.

A sudden burst of laughter erupted from a food stall, where Sanosuke Sagara leaned lazily against a wooden post, his spiky hair as unruly as ever. He tore into a rice ball, gesturing wildly as he recounted a story to the vendor, his kanji-emblazoned jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders. A fighter by nature, a loyal friend by heart—Sano’s presence was hard to ignore.

From the shadows of a narrow alley, Yahiko Myojin’s sharp eyes darted from person to person. The young swordsman-in-training gritted his teeth, watching as an unsuspecting passerby nearly fell victim to a pickpocket. Without hesitation, he darted forward, eager to prove that he was more than just a kid.

Not far away, Megumi Takani adjusted the sleeves of her kimono, her usual air of elegance accompanied by a wry smile. She observed the town’s energy with an amused glint in her eyes, ever the sharp-witted doctor who had seen more than her fair share of hardship.

As the sun cast a golden glow over the town, the stage was set—peaceful days interwoven with the echoes of a turbulent past.