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Broken Pieces: Chapter 13 - kindred hands

by linay

Yet here I linger

Touched by kindred hands

“Do you love me?”

A deep, baritone laugh came from the man sprawled out beside her on the dingy double bed. “Love? What a strange word to come out of your mouth!”

Grey-blue eyes stared up at the yellowing ceiling. “Do you love me?”

A pause stretched between their naked bodies.

“I don’t know what love is,” the man breathed bitterly, heaving himself up into a sitting position, “Do you?”

Linda lifted herself into a kneeling position beside him. Gently, she took one of his hands between hers and placed it onto her neck - where the nasty bruises the pimp had given her were still swelling.

“This is love,” she whispered into the night. She moved his palm to her scarred cheek. “This is love.” Finally, Linda placed his open hand onto her rounding belly. “And this,” she said softly, “This is also love.”

A pensive smirk alighted on the man’s drawn lips. “Then I love you,” he replied.

He leaned down and pressed his lips gently to hers, the touch between them burning as hot coals.

Linda stared down at the young girl who was caught in the disgusting embrace of the American arms dealer, Morton. Her face was contorted with suspicion and anxiety. Yet Linda continued.

“Indeed,” she announced, levelling her eyes with Morton’s, “She is not a whore.”

She heard Kaoru’s gasp from below but kept her eyes on Morton. “I just thought you should know, sir,” Linda continued, her voice sharp and condescending, “That this young brat is not worthy to be here. Any of us would love to be given as much attention as you have given to her. But she thinks of herself too highly to be a real whore. She obviously does not deserve to be in your presence.”

Before Morton could muster a flattered nod, Linda reached down and roughly pulled Kaoru up by her arm. Kaoru, her face stricken with a mixture of shock and confusion, could only stumble clumsily to her feet.

“Let me borrow her from you so that I can teach her a lesson,” Linda told Morton, “I’ll teach her to show proper respect to a man such as yourself deserves.”

Without waiting for a response, Linda turned and dragged Kaoru into the sea of women. As if cued, a horde of beautiful women set themselves upon Morton, cooing, giggling and effectively distracting him long enough for Linda to tow Kaoru a safe distance away.

Across the room, Linda pushed Kaoru behind a tacky, faux-marble pillar. Kaoru pushed her back against the glassy surface, her wide eyes exploring the face of the woman before her.

“Don’t ask,” Linda said, her voice dropping into a gentle whisper, “It really doesn’t matter.”

“But Linda,” Kaoru began, befuddled by the unexpected turn of events, “I thought you were going to turn me in.”

A tart smile passed briefly over Linda’s pallid features. “Prostitutes make the best actresses, you know that?”

Kaoru continued to stare openly, searching the other woman’s complexion.

“Make-up does wonders, doesn’t it?” Linda spoke again, her soft, musical voice a balm to Kaoru’s ears.

“Ah,” Kaoru agreed, remembering the vivid bruises and cuts she had seen on her face earlier in the morning. “Hey, Linda,” Kaoru said, just as Linda was about to turn away, “Why do you let them do that to you?”

Linda faced her fully, taking a step closer. “Sometimes,” she said in a voice rich with sorrow, “We cannot choose the paths before us.”

“But why not? Why not fight back?”

“I can’t,” came the frank reply, “There is no other way.”

Kaoru chewed her lip. “If he loved-”

“He does,” Linda interrupted, “But he cannot move from his path. And neither can I. We show our love by continuing this way.”

Kaoru shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

Linda sighed a soft smile and touched Kaoru’s cheek softly. “I hope you never have to understand this kind of loving.”

Kaoru knit her brows together tightly, admiring yet pitying the woman before her. Linda’s cool fingertip brushed her hand lightly.

“Would you return a favour?” Linda asked quietly.

Blinking, Kaoru nodded emphatically. Linda gently lifted Kaoru’s hand, palm up. A slightly nostalgic smile flitted over her face as she pressed Kaoru’s fingers around a small, cold item. “Please give that to someone for me.”

Before Kaoru could look or ask to whom, Linda leaned back and turned on her heel. She cast an encouraging look at Kaoru. “Take care,” she said, “And stay out of Morton’s way. It is almost time.”

Kaoru glanced at her watch quickly, her question dying on her lips. Indeed, the time was upon them. The silvery, small object was tucked into a tiny pocket.

“And by the way,” Linda whispered, only a shadow of her face visible through her thick, black hair, “My real name is Uno.”

And then she disappeared into the crowd, her long hair flowing behind her.

Battousai, his golden eyes gleaming in the half-light, strode purposefully towards the great, oak double doors. Without hesitation, he swung the two doors wide open with both hands. Light and music poured out from the opening doors, filling the lobby. Suddenly but with incredible unity, the women that filled the steamy suite began to flow out, passing Battousai without a glance or touch, and exiting the lobby.

The assassin didn’t even look at any of the prostitutes. His narrowed eyes were trained upon the surprised faces of Allan Morton and his bodyguard. Within a minute, the suite and the lobby were empty - save for the pumping music, the arms dealer, the red-haired bodyguard, the assassin and one trembling girl behind a pillar.

“What the hell!” Morton’s pudgy body bounced as he scrambled to his feet.

“Cut the damn music,” his bodyguard roared, as she pulled out her gun and aimed at Battousai. The music died abruptly.

“Allan Morton,” Battousai’s voice was low, “I have come for your life.”

“Like hell,” Morton bellowed, pointing to the willowy woman beside him, “Get rid of him now!”

Narrowing her green eyes, the bodyguard aimed and fired. Battousai flew from his spot just as a smoking bullet embedded itself into the floor behind him. Unsheathing his sword in a fluid silver arc, he began to speed towards his target in leaps and bounds, the rain of bullets from the bodyguard’s gun not even grazing him.

Kaoru emerged from behind the pillar, trembling. Her blue eyes searched out Kenshin as he leapt closer and closer to the bodyguard. Her teeth gritted in concentration, the red-head was firing rapidly, not hitting but still managing to keep the assassin far enough away from herself. Kaoru glanced over to Morton’s sofa. Her eyes suddenly widened. He was not there.

“Gotcha!” a rough voice ejaculated behind her, “You little skank!”

Kaoru whipped about to see Morton, purple with rage, looming behind her. With surprising speed, Morton sank his fingers into her hair and pulled, causing her to wince. She was about to force her way out of his grip when she felt the cold tip of steel underneath her chin.

“Don’t move,” Morton sputtered, “Or you’ll get it.”

Kaoru froze, her eyes rolling to the side to try and catch a glimpse of Kenshin. By the ricocheting bullets, she guessed he was still busy. Suddenly, she was yanked forward painfully, her scalp stinging. Morton began to drag Kaoru by her hair across the floor. She stumbled forward blindly, clutching fruitlessly at her head. Tightening his grip on the thick strands, Morton flung her to the ground and leaned over her, his knife poised at her throat.

“Stop!” he barked.

The bodyguard froze. Battousai cast a sidelong glance in his direction - then also froze in mid-action.

“Heh,” Morton panted out, “So you have a weakness after all. Stay still there then,” he ordered, “While my bodyguard takes your weapon - or I’ll let this little peach have it.”

The woman began to edge her way toward Battouai to comply with her employer’s command. Immediately, however, the assassin relaxed and turned to Morton.

“And what makes you think I’d care if you killed her?” he asked scornfully, slinging his sword over one shoulder.

“What?” Morton heaved, wrapping his arm around Kaoru’s neck in a chokehold, “Heartless bastard. You don’t care if I slit your woman’s throat?”

“My woman?” Battousai raised an eyebrow, his voice bland, “What made you think she was my woman?”

Kaoru blanched at his words, unwanted tears welling up in her eyes. He was standing there, so relaxed and so carelessly, his eyes void of concern. Suddenly angry for unknown reasons, Kaoru screwed her eyebrows together. In one furious move, she grabbed Morton’s forearm and bit down hard on his fatty flesh. He cried out irately and she pushed free of his arm - oblivious to violent the rush of wind that passed her and to the angry cry that turned into an anguished shriek. Brushing away hot tears, she lurched forward and away from the man.

“Sir!” a violent shout.

Kaoru looked back suddenly. Her eyes widened in horror. Kenshin was crouched over Morton’s prone form. Both of his hands were on the pommel of his sword, pushing it down into Morton’s chest. That violent wind, she realized, had been Battousai’s lunge attack. Kaoru looked away from the grisly sight - only to be met with the smoking barrel of a gun. The red-haired bodyguard pressed the warm tip into Kaoru’s forehead.

“Assassin!” the woman cried, staring at Kaoru, “I will take this woman from you now.”

Battousai stood leisurely, pulling his sword from the dead man’s ribcage easily. He looked over one shoulder. Not a metre away, Kaoru was crouched at the other woman’s feet, her midnight hair spilling over her shoulders and brushing the floor.

“Why bother?” he asked, his voice a cold stab in the tense atmosphere.

“Idiot,” the woman muttered, cocking the gun.

The gunshot went off, echoing off the walls of the room.

Kaoru was still crouched on the floor but her hands were over her ears and her eyes were tightly screwed shut. She gasped lightly, trying to block out the metallic smell of blood. A few scalding, liquid drops fell onto her scalp from above, but she refused to even glance upwards.

Above her, hot blood dripped slowly from the hilt of Battousai’s sword. The assassin was still leaning forward in a lunge, his bloody hands gripping the sword that was thrust through the red-haired bodyguard. Her eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling and her arms were still up in the air from when Battousai had deflected her shot. Lowering his eyes, Battousai drew back, pulling his long sword out from the woman’s lower chest as he did. She crumpled to the floor in front of Kaoru, the gun clattering in the pool of blood on the floor and splashing droplets of red onto Kaoru’s creamy, white skin.

“Get up,” Battousai commanded, looking up toward the doors and letting his sword hang at his side, blood running down the steel.

Kaoru remained immobile, hunched over and closed to him. He didn’t look down at her.

“Get up,” he repeated, his voice becoming rougher.

The girl mumbled something incoherently from beneath the layers of hair that covered more of her body than her clothes did. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Kenshin plucked the girl from the floor by her upper arm.

“What?” he demanded.

“I can’t!” she yelped softly, looking away. She eyes fell and lingered on the bloodstained sword that he still held in his other hand.

“Kaoru,” Kenshin lowered his voice, “Get a hold of yourself.”

Kaoru turned to him. He inhaled sharply. From beneath thick locks of black hair, two startled wide blue eyes stared up at him from a plane of smooth white - stained by flecks of blood. Her lower lip trembled slightly.

“It could not be avoided,” Kenshin found himself explaining, “She would have killed you.”

“And would you have cared?” her voice was too soft, too melodious, too intimate.

Battousai dropped her arm abruptly. “Katsura wants you alive,” he said brusquely, turning away.

“I see,” Kaoru replied quietly, “Then why bother killing her if you didn’t really care?”

Kenshin swung around sharply and, lacing his voice with venom, he spat, “It is your fault! You didn’t do your job. That’s why she had to die.”

His catlike stare narrowed onto her blue eyes, willing her to explode into one of her fits. Instead, she turned away sullenly. Holding her head up, so as to not see the body beneath her, she stepped gingerly toward the door.

Linda, her arms wrapped around her chest protectively, stepped across the dimly lit street and headed towards her brothel. It was only after a few minutes that she realized that a black sedan was trailing her. She quickened her steps. She would not be taken until she had reached that point. With long, graceful steps, Linda proceeded down the street until she reached a small flower shop that doubled as a family-run convenience store. With hardly a break in her stride, she casually flicked her fingers toward the alleyway between the shop and the next building, a silver glint disappearing into the bleakness there.

Then, she gradually slowed her steps. A few moments later, she stopped. Behind her, she heard the car doors open and steps rush out to greet her. With a sigh and a wry smile, the woman turned to her attackers. But before she could speak her witty remark, she was knocked to the uneven asphalt by a rough fist. Even as her head hit the pavement, she was hauled up and dragged to the trunk of the car. No one even wiped the dribble of blood from her chin as they pushed her into the coffin-like trunk. And then they slammed the lid down and Linda was drowned in darkness.

“Are you sure about this?”

“He needs to know if our plan is to succeed.”

“It seems unfair to Kamiya.”

“Life is unfair.”

A sigh. “And we are just adding to it.”

“It is the path we have chosen.”

Kaoru stepped past Kenshin to enter the gloom of his apartment. Her tense silence permeated their interactions painfully. She blatantly avoided eye contact, shrugging his hand off her arm every time he attempted to guide her in a particular direction. Pressing his lips together lightly each time, Kenshin was unable to think of a way to make his job easier.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her as he locked the door again, his voice devoid of intonation.

Holding fast to her silence, Kaoru wrapped her arms around herself and slid into an uncomfortable sitting position on the sofa.

“Well?” This time his voice rose sharply.

“Don’t ask if you don’t care,” came the soft reply.

His face twisting into a scowl, Kenshin stomped past her to arrange his swords above the mantle. He stormed into the kitchenette, tossing his overcoat onto the back of the sofa as he did. Turning to the bar to fill a bar glass with liquor, his eye caught the sight of a bulky file folder that hadn’t been there when he had left.

Pulling it towards him as he poured himself a shot of hard liquor, he read the hand-written note clipped to the front of it.

Info on your current assignment. Read it. - Katsura

Tossing back the liquor in one swallow, Kenshin flipped the folder open and skimmed the headings on the first page.

Medical Report: Kamiya Kaoru

Disinterestedly, Kenshin vaguely acknowledged her vital statistics and general physical description. He turned the pages quickly, his eyes scanning the paragraphs. The writing, apparently all by one Takani Megumi, was crisp and dry with an underlying tone of sarcasm.

The subject’s ability was applied to rats. As expected, subject became extremely agitated. Unfortunately, this experiment yields no new or useful information. Supervisor should consider taking the place of the rat; input would be similar and money would not have been wasted on purchase of lab rats.

Turning the sheet over, Kenshin scanned a summary of a more recent experiment.

Subject exposed to the minds of expert swordsmen and martial artists. Rather than become proficient in said skills, subject succumbed to grief and nightmarish hallucinations. Interviews conducted after sufficient recovery time indicated that subject had acquired knowledge of the skills. However, subject seemed much more impacted by visions of past crimes. Demonstration of actual acquired skills was cancelled because subject was kidnapped.

Kenshin frowned. So this was what the child had been subjected to on the day that he had been sent to assassinate her. Briefly, he recalled his first impression of her as a target.

From peacefully closed eyes…

She had been so willing to die at first, her blue eyes meeting his raging amber eyes with unprecedented calm.

..to violent, almost comical resistance…

Then, all because of her bodyguard’s last-ditch attempt to save her, thus endangering himself, she had sprung into action - hurling a chair at him. Her efforts, though of an unorthodox nature, had been effective for a while.

And finally, angry eyes.

He had not been able to understand how she had transformed from a willing victim into such feisty prey. He had not understood her ability to elude him. Her childishness mingled with womanliness excited and irritated him at the same time. He could not fathom her empathetic nature. And he had not, to his chagrin, been able to understand her calm acceptance of her present situation with him.

He heard her exhale loudly. Glancing up, he saw her rise from the leather sofa and stretch upward - apparently oblivious to the fact that her body was exposed so plainly to him. She began to swing her arms back and forth, closing her eyes and letting a slight smile drift to her lips.

Kenshin looked down and flipped pages.

Summary of Injuries/Disabilities

The heading immediately caught his eye. As he began to read over Megumi’s sharp, angry pen strokes, his amber eyes widened.

Multiple concussions, two fractured ribs, one fractured wrist, numerous bruises on face, upper arms, thighs, back.

It was a description of Kaoru’s state when she had been ‘kidnapped’ from Kanryu’s underground organization. Megumi had not spared her reader from the gory details of Kaoru’s physical state. The anger in the writing was almost tangible.

There is reason to believe that the patient has had many similar injuries in the past that have healed. Patient has numerous 2nd degree burns on her stomach and back - evidence of scorch torture. Hot coals or irons may have been used.

Kenshin could hear Kaoru humming lightly as she continued to stretch her lithe limbs. His eyes were riveted to the page, his mind unable to match the barbarically tortured girl in the description to the cheerily humming teenager in his living room. He continued to read, morbidly absorbed.

The patient’s physical wounds will heal. The best treatments have been ordered. However there is no medication effective against the mental and emotional abuse she has sustained. The inhuman torture and sexual abuse will likely scar her for life.

Kenshin stopped cold. He read the phrase again, his eyes glaring at the page.

…and sexual abuse…

His eyes narrowed and shot up.

Kaoru was almost dancing, systematically stretching out her limbs one at a time. She had shaken off her shock and chosen to ignore the blood caked to her skin and clothes. As she loosed the muscles in her shoulders, arms and legs, she let herself hum softly. Stretching was a familiar practice for her - it helped to clear her mind. Rising to her toes, she pulled her arms upward, releasing her breath and letting the ugly visions flow out of her consciousness. She inhaled and let her eyelids drift open slightly. Her limber muscles immediately tensed and her breath caught in her throat.

The assassin was standing directly in front of her, his golden eyes narrowed upon her face. A crisp sheet of paper hung from his fingertips. Kaoru forced herself to exhale slowly and drop her heels.

“What?” she asked, struggling to keep her tone steady.

“Explain this,” Kenshin ordered, lifting the paper and dangling before her face.

For a moment, Kaoru’s eyes scanned the page. Then she averted her eyes, uncomfortable.

“What about it?”

“Is it true?”

Kaoru snorted. “You think they make up those kinds of things for fun?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Why do you care?” Kaoru huffed.

Suddenly he was in her face, the paper discarded on the coffee table. His calloused hands hovered on either side of her shoulders and his slitted eyes bored relentlessly into hers. “Who raped you?”

Kaoru’s face tightened and she swallowed the hard lump that had formed at the back of her throat. “They strung me up and burned holes into me too,” she spat, “Is that what you want to know?”

“No,” Kenshin stated coldly, his voice dropping into a low growl. Without touching her, he cupped his hands around her cheeks. “I want to know who raped you.”

Unable to turn her face away without touching his hands, Kaoru looked down. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me anyway,” his voice was low and commanding.

Kaoru swallowed again. “They all did,” she breathed, “All of them at once. I didn’t even know who they were. It was…” she shuddered slightly.

Kenshin stared at her downcast eyes, his hands still stiffly on either side of her face. He could see the war being waged over her features. Abruptly, a scowl darkened Kaoru’s face and she jut out her chin at him.

“Is that what you wanted to know?” she accused, “How they degraded me and humiliated me with torture worse than death?”

“Nothing is worse than death.”

She chuckled. A low, dry chuckle he had never heard from her before. “There are plenty of things worse than death,” she bit out bitterly, the anger in her crackling eyes plain, “And all because of an ability they wanted to harness. Cold concrete one night, burning irons the next, and then a pack of slimy, good-for-nothing jackasses who-”

“I understand,” Kenshin interrupted, withdrawing and turning away.

“Oh great,” Kaoru said, dripping sarcasm, “Now I have a cold-hearted, bloody assassin disgusted at me.”

Kenshin ignored her comment and continued into the hall, turning into the bathroom. Shedding his shirt easily, he leaned over and cranked the hot water to fill the bath. Reaching over with a lean arm, he poured a good amount of sweet smelling syrup into the bath, causing dense suds to foam up immediately.

“I can’t believe you were looking through my files!”

He heard her incensed voice as he stepped back into the living room. She stopped her tirade as soon he walked right up to her.

“What?” she demanded angrily.

He did not answer. Instead, Kenshin reached out a bare arm to brush his rough fingers against the nape of her neck. She flinched back but he let his fingers mold themselves around the back of her neck. His half-lidded amber eyes were calm as he drew her forward. Stupefied, Kaoru could only stare blankly as the distance closed between them.

“That night, you said,” he began, close enough so that his breath blew warmth onto her lashes, “You said that you would sympathize with my struggle for just one night. And the next day we could be enemies again. Do you remember?”

Kaoru blinked away the slight moisture left on her lashes from the heat of his breath. His lips were nearly touching her nose and his red bangs were just grazing her face. The pressure from his hand on the nape of her neck had not eased any either. She did the only thing she could think of. She swallowed.

“I know you remember that night,” Kenshin rumbled softy, “When you chose to sleep at my feet and comfort me with your head on my knee.”

He let his hand drop slowly from her neck to her back. He swivelled to one side and pushed gently between her shoulder blades, guiding her toward the bathroom. “Tonight,” he said quietly, “Let me do the same for you. Tomorrow, we can be enemies again.”

Still astounded, Kaoru let herself be led to the steaming bathroom. Closing the door after them, Kenshin remained behind her. Kaoru turned to him, finally finding her voice.

“What are you doing?” her voice wavered between fright and anger.

He turned away from her, facing the door. “Take off your clothes and get into the bath,” he ordered, “I won’t look.”

Kaoru hesitated for a moment but his tone left no room for argument. Quickly, almost hastily, she shed the bloodied clothing that clung to her and stepped into the huge basin. Slowly, she sank to a crouch into the frothy, steaming water. Inhaling, she leaned back into a sitting position, the water reaching past her collarbone. As soon as Kenshin heard her exhale, he turned about again and pulled a stool up beside the tub. He sat for a moment, watching her closed eyes and flushed face.

Kaoru opened her eyes slowly, the startling fact that a half naked man was sitting mere inches away from here dulled because of the heat of the bath.

“What-”

“Be quiet,” Kenshin commanded, though his tone bore no reprimand, “Close your eyes.”

Kaoru could do nothing but obey. Thankful that he had discarded his shirt earlier, Kenshin reached across the steaming bath to dip a soaped rag into the water and shut off the tap. Gently, he began to rub the cloth across Kaoru’s face, removing the crusty rust-coloured stains. Kaoru’s tense reaction was slowly relaxed by the hot water. When Kenshin lifted her bare arm to scrub it with the cloth, Kaoru was already woozy and comfortable. He scrubbed diligently, even rubbing between her fingers. Like a rag doll, Kaoru’s head lolled to one side - even as Kenshin was reaching down into the bath to scrub her thighs and calves. He worked silently, carefully hedging his vision and imagination. From the heaviness of her limbs, he knew the girl was already dozing under his ministrations.

Kaoru’s lids felt heavier than they had in a long time. Kenshin’s cleansing touch coupled with the hot bath water were helping her drift away from the degradation she had carried with her. Unbidden tears slid slowly from sleepy eyes.

The bath. It was a luxury she could not possibly deserve.

Kenshin watched with distant amber eyes as a few tears strayed onto the young woman’s cheek. Letting the cloth go, he reached over to cautiously wipe them away, replacing their salty stench with the fresh smell of soap suds. He leaned over the bath, reaching down to circle Kaoru with both arms. He pulled her from the bath, swinging his blue bathrobe over her body as soon as she emerged from the water. She was leaning against him, heavy with drowsiness. He wound the bathrobe around her and pulled her limp body from the tub. In the same smooth movement, Kaoru was dangling in his arms, her face nestled into his chest. He effortlessly carried her from the bathroom to the bedroom, gently laying her down on the pillowy mattress. He pulled the thick down covers up to her chin and watched blank-faced as she rolled her shoulders comfortably. His fingers drifted across her ivory cheek, brushing strands of hair away. Then he caught himself. He had helped her with her struggle for cleansing.

Tomorrow they would be enemies again.

But that night Kaoru slept dreamlessly, a shadowed man standing over her watchfully.

He sat stood alone in the dark of his apartment, sipping straight vodka from a glass. The dry smirk that always graced his features was missing.

“Takasugi-san,” a whisper from underneath the door, “Linda has disappeared. She never arrived at her brothel.”

“Do you love me?”

Her voice haunted him, piercing through the lids of his closed eyes.

“I don’t know what love is. Do you?”

The sweetness of her skin. The bruises marring her perfection. The light in her blue-grey eyes when she smiled at him. The dark bags under her eyes. The sweet melody of her voice, smoothing out his worries in the same way that she smoothed away the wrinkles from the sleeve of his shirt as she leaned her head upon his shoulder.

“This is love.”

Takasugi gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. Love. Wasn’t love supposed to save us? To fill our worlds with indescribable happiness and bliss? He snorted softly and tossed back the alcohol, letting it burn at his throat and relishing the pain. They had taken his only love. His Linda. No, he corrected himself, his Uno. He knew he was deluding himself. They both had known it would end badly. But even so, they had clung painfully to the few, fleeting moments of intimacy together. In the end, love had destroyed them.

“Then I love you.”

Takasugi leaned forward against the bar, his hand gripping the glass until his knuckles were white. Then suddenly, he hurled the glass into the wall and gave an unholy shriek. The glass shattered and fell to the floor, tinkling as tiny bells, sounding like the breaking and scattering of so many hopeless dreams.