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Broken Pieces: Chapter 17 - ashes

by linay

Kindred in thought, heart and duty

Kindred in death

The medicated haze that covered Kaoru’s mind like a blanket was slowly slipping away. Sweat broke out in beads on her forehead as she mentally tried to tug the medication’s effects back around her mind like a shield. Though she was physically covered in Kenshin’s warm, down comforter, she shivered involuntarily.

It was coming.

Kenshin sped through the city in his black sports car, his hand resting lightly on the gearshift. A simple, nondescript urn sat beside him in the passenger’s seat. It had only taken a small bribe to convince the staff at the crematorium to get the job done quickly and quietly. Uno’s ashes.

Katsura sat alone in the dark of his plush office, his leather chair turned toward the window behind his desk. The lights of the sky and the city shimmered at him but Katsura Kogoro’s eyes were closed. His plans were going to come to fruition soon, but the satisfaction did not encourage him. He felt heavy. Burdened. Cursed. He had been the one to light the fires of revolution in Kyoto. He had orchestrated an elaborate plan to bring peace and justice to a violent and dangerous city. But the cost, even to his own men, was overwhelming.

“Do you despise me?” He asked the figure that stood behind him in the darkness.

“Not I.” The answer was given in a deep baritone.

“Even though you once thought me mad for doing all of this?”

“Sometimes I still think you are crazy.”

“Takasugi has lost his woman,” Katsura murmured, “Himura has lost his sanity. It does not seem fair.”

“You knew it would never be fair from the beginning, Kogoro,” the other man replied, stepping into the moonlight.

“But it seemed so much easier back then,” Katsura thought aloud, “When this was all an ideal, a plan. I never thought it would be so difficult to watch their pain.”

“Whose pain?”

“Takasugi’s. Himura’s. All of the men that serve our ideal,” Katsura sighed, “Perhaps you were right, Seijuro. Perhaps you should never have let him go.”

Hiko snorted. “As if I could stop that idiot from following you.”

Katsura smiled ruefully, remembering the first time he had laid eyes on Himura Kenshin. Takasugi had discovered him first, as a mere child. A child with incredible fighting skills. To this child, Katsura had appointed the most difficult task. The eagerness that had shone in his young, idealistic eyes had dulled into inhuman determination in unfeeling eyes. He was a man who killed to save lives. It was the cruellest duty to inflict upon a good heart.

“Besides,” Hiko continued, interrupting Katsura’s thoughts, “You will have enough of your own pain to deal with soon enough.”

“What do you know about my pain?” The question was soft, nothing more than a gentle whisper.

“It has a name,” Hiko answered, “Setsuko Amemiya.”

“Indeed,” Katsura affirmed quietly, bowing his head.

“Are you regretting your choices, Kogoro?” Hiko asked.

“There is no room for regret,” Katsura answered, looking out onto the city, “Not when we are so close to ushering in a new era of peace.”

“Peace?” Hiko snorted derisively, “Can an era of peace be built with blood?”

“It has to be,” Katsura said, his face hard, “Otherwise all our sacrifices will be in vain.”

“You don’t think the sacrifices are too great?” Hiko demanded, his voice low, “What are we working for anyway?”

“We are working for the greater good,” Katsura replied, his voice growing stronger, “Our individual lives mean nothing.”

“Setsuko means nothing to you, in other words,” Hiko translated.

“Nothing,” Katsura repeated, “When I look at the global picture, she is only a speck of dirt that needs to be eliminated.”

“How can you speak so heartlessly?”

“I must be heartless,” Katsura said, “The end will justify my means.” He paused and then turned to look at Seijuro Hiko. “But I will also make atonement - even if it is only small. Your student will be spared.”

“That was our deal,” Hiko agreed.

Katsura turned back to stare out the window. “We are opposites, aren’t we, old friend?” He commented quietly, “I would turn against all that is precious to me in order to bring peace to the whole of society. You would turn against your principles in order to save just one person who is precious to you.”

“That seems to be the difference between us.” Hiko confirmed blandly, “But tell me honestly. Don’t you feel terrible about your own sacrifice? About Setsuko?”

“My feelings and my actions have nothing to do with each other,” Katsura replied, closing his eyes. He pulled a small black envelope from his breast pocket and set it on his knee. Placing his palm over the envelope, Katsura Kogoro sighed.

Kaoru tossed feverishly under the blankets. She moaned aloud, grimacing as though in pain.

It was coming.

Even in sleep, Kaoru tried to fight it off. The shock of Megumi’s involvement in Choshu’s plans had confused her to the very core, sending her thoughts into a downward spiral. Uno’s death and Takasugi’s violent reaction had only added to the strain on her fragile psyche.

It was coming.

It took a lot to make Kaoru fall ill. But when the strain became too much, she would become feverish. It was not, however, a simple fever. The fever laced her dreams, making them a living hell. Sometimes, she even dreamed of things to come.

It had arrived. She was shrouded in darkness. Only the flames of a dying fire lit the area. She turned to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring back at her. Kaoru shut her eyes, shaking her head and willing herself to wake up. But when she opened her eyes, the amber orbs were still there.

“Please,” she begged, “Go away.”

“I am here for your life.” The voice was cold, deadpan and frighteningly familiar.

It flew out of the dark toward her. Kaoru threw herself out of the way, landing on her hands and knees. She looked up and saw, to her horror, Kenshin’s cold, expressionless face staring back at her.

“Don’t resist,” he told her emotionlessly, “It’s useless.”

Kenshin stepped up to the door to Takasugi’ apartment, the urn filled with Uno’s ashes in hand. He rapped on the door loudly. The door creaked open and Takasugi stepped into the florescent light of the hallway. Kenshin held out the urn. Reverently, Takasugi took the urn from Kenshin with both hands. For a moment, he stared down at the small, white porcelain jar. Then he looked up at Kenshin.

“This isn’t the normal procedure for these things,” he said questioningly.

Kenshin shrugged. “She was a wonderful woman.”

Takasugi grinned half-heartedly. “It’s still not the way we usually deal with it. You’ll probably hear about this from the big man.”

Kenshin stared back blankly. Takasugi smirked and shrugged. The assassin bowed slightly and turned to walk toward his own dwelling.

“Thank you, Himura-san,” Takasugi said to the other man’s back.

“Just give up,” he said venomously.

Kaoru, panting and dishevelled, faced the monster in the darkness of her dreams. He swiped at her again. As she ducked and rolled, Kaoru heard the crashing of pottery and furniture from somewhere in the pitch black.

“Kenshin!” She shouted at the monster, “Please stop it!”

A disembodied had suddenly shot toward her, grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the floor. An arm, a shoulder and then a face materialized before her stunned eyes. Crimson hair and steely amber eyes filled her sight.

“Kenshin,” Kaoru sputtered, “Don’t you know me? Why are you doing this?”

“What difference does it make if I know you or not?” Kenshin spat, “This is my duty.”

“No!” Kaoru whispered as she watched him level his sword at her captured throat. “No, Kenshin!”

The blade shot downward with a splash of blood.

As Kenshin stepped into his apartment, he heard the thump of a body falling to the floor. Reacting instantly, he darted into his bedroom, his eyes searching for Kaoru. Looking down, he saw Kaoru prostrate on the floor beside the bed. He bent over to hoist her back onto the bed by the armpits.

“No,” she whimpered unexpectedly, “Please, Kenshin.”

Kenshin’s amber eyes widened in shock as Kaoru lifted her glazed unseeing eyes toward him. He reached out to grab her shoulders but she immediately knocked his hands away, recoiling in fear. From the unseeing quality in her eyes, Kenshin was convinced that she was only dreaming.

“Kaoru,” Kenshin beckoned softly, “I’m back.”

“No!” she shouted back at him, shielding her face with both hands.

Confused, Kenshin grabbed her wrists and forced them away from her face. Kaoru twisted violently in his grasp, desperately trying to escape. Observing her, Kenshin was shocked to see recognition in her blue eyes. Recognition and fear.

“Kaoru.” The name slipped from his lips in shock as her fingernails dug into his forearms.

It was the first time he had ever seen fear in her eyes.

Burning. The world was burning down. Kaoru knew she was dead. Her mouth hung open, blood dribbling down the side of her face. Silently, her mind screamed. But unable to move, she stared up at Kenshin, his sword still plunged into her throat. His crimson hair began to lift, becoming tongues of fire. The flames filled the air and raced around them. Red shadows danced around them, taunting her.

The world burned down.

Suddenly, Kaoru went limp and crumpled to the floor. Completely shocked, Kenshin lifted her from the floor and placed her back on the bed. She hung lifelessly in his arms, her eyes still wide open and staring up sightlessly. He placed a hand to her forehead and then instantly drew back. Her fever was soaring and his palm was wet from her perspiration. Swearing under his breath, he fished out the pills Megumi had given him. Pulling one white capsule out, he tried to press it between Kaoru’s lips. Immediately, Kaoru began thrashing violently, biting at Kenshin’s hand. He swung himself onto the bed and straddled the feverish girl, placing the pill on the tip of his tongue again. As Kaoru whipped her head around, opening and closing her mouth in silent screams, Kenshin bent over and tried to push the pill into her mouth with another kiss.

This time, however, Kaoru lunged forward, knocking her forehead against his painfully. Undaunted, Kenshin held her uncooperative head between his cupped hands and again tried to lower his face to hers. But Kaoru bit at his face, refusing to let him come close. Kenshin sat back, pulling the pill from his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Kaoru,” he muttered, positioning the pill between his thumb and forefinger.

Leaning over again, he pressed her forehead down with one hand and forcibly pried her jaw open with the other. As soon as her lips and teeth parted, he flicked the pill into her mouth. As Kaoru began to spit the pill back out, Kenshin grit his teeth and delivered a quick, sharp chop to the underside of Kaoru’s chin with the side of his hand, forcing her to swallow the medicine. He watched as Kaoru’s movements gradually slowed, becoming lethargic. Soon, she was still. Placing a hand to her forehead, he noted that she was still feverish but not dangerously so. The fever was breaking.

Kaoru lay in a pile of black ash. The flames had died and nothing but ash remained. Alone, she stared up into the starless sky. On the horizon, she saw the sun begin to rise. But she was sinking into the sea of ashes. Still immobilized, she sank, the ashes filling her nostrils. She drowned.

And then slowly, the blackness took over. Her eyes closed. Her body numbed. And then Kaoru fell into peaceful oblivion.

“Sir, I know they are planning something!”

Ieyasu Tokugawa turned to his right-hand man, Kazuma Ishikawa. “How can you be sure? Choshu has always been one of Bakufu’s strongest allies. Why would they turn against us?”

“But their leader, Kogoro Katsura, has always disagreed with your policies. It’s rumoured that he’s dissatisfied with the way things are going in Kyoto.”

Ieyasu, a large, moustached man, drummed his fingers on his desk thoughtfully. “Supposing there was to be a mutiny. Who would they absolutely need to eliminate?”

Ishikawa pondered the thought for a moment. “Already, many of your strongest supporters have been assassinated. There are only a few politicians left that are committed to you,” He paused, “Kiyosato-san and Amemiya-san are your strongest allies.”

“Setsuko Amemiya?”

“She is quite a powerful minister right now. Anyone who wanted to overthrow Bakufu’s power would have to eliminate her.”

“Then Choshu cannot be involved in this conspiracy,” Tokugawa deduced.

“But sir-”

“It’s impossible,” Tokugawa dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand, “Katsura would never have his former lover killed. I cannot picture him consenting to Setsuko’s death, no matter how much he wants power. It just isn’t possible.”

“I still think they are involved somehow,” Ishikawa grumbled.

“Fine,” Tokugawa assented, rubbing his eyes, “As I ordered you before, find out who does their dirty work. Then find a spy.”

Kaoru opened her heavy eyelids, blinking at the dull ache behind her eyes. She exhaled slowly, dragging her arm from the covers to wipe her brow with the back of her hand. Her skin unexpectedly met with something damp and cold. Frowning, she tried to sit up.

“Not yet,” A low voice commanded, pushing her shoulder gently into the mattress.

“Huh?” Kaoru grunted incoherently, pressing her fingertips to the wet, icy mass on her forehead.

Calloused fingers brushed hers away and then removed the compress from her head. Kaoru turned her heavy head to the side. The room was dark, save for the reddish light coming from a corner lamp. Beside her, a man with fiery red hair sat, his hands in a large basin on the bed table. Recalling her dream, Kaoru’s eyes snapped wide-open. Just as she was about to sit up, the man turned back again, a wet towel in his hands.

“No,” he ordered quietly, gently mopping her face with the wet cloth.

“Kenshin?” Her voice was cracked and whispered.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

Kenshin remained silent, turning away for a moment to dip the cloth into ice water again.

“Was it a dream?” Kaoru asked hoarsely, “The fire?” She hesitated. “The sword?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kenshin replied quietly, turning back to dab at Kaoru’s flushed cheeks.

She let her eyes drift closed tiredly. “I feel terrible.”

“You look terrible.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner at Kaoru’s lips. Eyes closed, she let her fingers wander toward the man beside her, pulling lightly on the cuff of his nearest sleeve. “Thank you,” she breathed, “For staying with me.”

“It is my duty,” Kenshin muttered gruffly.

“Duty?” Kaoru peeled her eyes open and let her hand rest on his. “Kenshin,” she asked softly, “Would you kill me?”

Kenshin arched an eyebrow at her. “Why are you asking?”

“Would you?” Her voice grew persistent.

Kenshin frowned. “I don’t think you should ask me that question.”

“So,” she inferred, “You would kill me.”

“I don’t think Katsura would want that,” Kenshin replied, his frown deepening.

Kaoru sighed softly and turned to look at her captor. She reached up slowly with two fingers and gently traced the line of his jaw. “That’s not what I asked,” she asked again, her fingers resting on his chin, “Would you kill me? Could you kill me?”

Kenshin grasped her hand gently and pulled it away from his face. “If that was my duty,” he answered seriously, “Then you would die by my sword.”

Kaoru let her hand drop and turned her face to the ceiling. “I see.”

Kenshin sighed almost inaudibly and turned away from her. He stared at the bedroom door, his brow set. “But,” he added quietly, his voice cold and hard, “I will not permit anyone else to harm you.” He turned his head to the side, one golden pupil swivelling to eye her surprised expression. “If you die,” he continued, “It will be by my hand, and my hand alone.”

Kaoru’s eyebrows lifted involuntarily in reaction to his intense reply. Slowly, her expression sank into a half-smile. “I suppose that’s the best I can get out of you.” Her hand crept back to his and she tenderly entwined her fingers with his. Turning back to gaze at the ceiling, Kaoru continued tentatively. “Kenshin, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What?” He asked, pulling his hand away from hers as inconspicuously as he could.

“Uno’s wounds. Don’t they look a lot like mine?”

“Not the ones I’ve seen.”

Kaoru pulled herself up into a sitting position, the covers falling away from her. Before Kenshin’s widening eyes, she pulled her tank top over her head. But it was not the sight of Kaoru in her bra that made Kenshin’s eyes go wide in anger.

Light brown scars, almost like water stains, ran across her ribs and belly. The stretched skin around the edges of regenerated flesh told of extreme burns.

“Burn torture,” Kaoru said matter-of-factly to Kenshin, whose eyes were riveted to the morbid pattern on her body, “Sometimes they use irons, sometimes open flames, sometimes sponges soaked in boiling water.”

“Who did this to you?” Kenshin’s voice was a mere hiss of rage.

“You’re missing the point-”

“Who?” Kenshin’s golden stare caught Kaoru’s blue eyes.

“Kanryu’s men,” Kaoru answered, “But-”

“I should have killed him more slowly,” Kenshin seethed, his pupils shrinking dangerously.

“Kenshin,” Kaoru sighed, pulling her tank top back on, “That’s not the point. The point is - don’t you think that the scars on Uno’s body are just like mine?”

Kenshin closed his eyes, willing the rage boiling up in him to settle down. He thought back to the night before. “Yes,” he answered, opening his eyes, “She also had burn torture scars. Although hers were still raw.”

“So,” Kaoru pondered, lying back down, “Do you think the same people are responsible?”

“It’s a possibility,” he affirmed, “Although Kanryu is dead.”

“But who was Kanryu working for?” Kaoru asked, her eyes drifting closed.

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” Kaoru thought aloud, “Since Aoshi-san and Megumi-san seem to be working for the same people you are,” her voice grew slightly bitter, “Then maybe the people Aoshi-san ‘saved’ me from are the same people who had Uno killed and tortured. Who would do that?”

“Bakufu.”

Aoshi Shinomori was angry. Seijuro Hiko could see it in the violent way that he was throwing his knives at the target. Hiko smirked. The stupid ninja was probably imagining that the target was Battousai’s head.

“Hey idiot,” Hiko called from the sidelines.

Aoshi instantly tensed, lowering his arms slowly. “Why did you tell me not to kill that bastard?”

“He’s not your real enemy,” came Hiko’s brusque reply.

“You mean,” Aoshi said through clenched teeth, “He’s not your enemy.”

“That’s true too,” Hiko smirked.

“What is stopping me from finding and destroying him?”

“The fact that you, me and everyone else is this damned building follows orders,” Hiko laughed mirthlessly, “Don’t do anything stupid to mess up our plans, ninja-nincompoop.”

“What are our plans?” Aoshi hissed, turning his ice-cold blue eyes to study his boss.

“You’ll find out,” Hiko said, turning away with a wave of his hand, “But don’t worry. You will get another chance at him. Just keep training.”

Staring as the door to the training hall swung shut, Aoshi snarled. He would not fail a second time.

Kenshin strode as casually as he could toward the bench closed to the donut vendor’s stall. The sun was just becoming bright in the sky and already hordes of people were marching in and out of the Omiya subway station. Kenshin sat on the bench, leaning his elbows on his knees and bowing his head.

“Himura-san.”

Kenshin heard Katsura’s voice but knew better than to turn around.

“Sir,” he acknowledged in a low, quiet voice.

“I have an important assignment for you tonight.”

Kenshin felt a slight pressure near his left elbow. He discreetly grabbed the black envelope that was behind his left elbow with his right hand. Quickly, he tucked the envelope into his trench coat pocket.

“It will be unusual. Be prepared.”

“Unusual?” Kenshin’s responses were nothing more than low grunts.

“It will be a woman.”

“Sir?”

“That is all I have to say about the assignment, Himura.”

Katsura stood behind the bench, his back to Kenshin. He held his cell phone to his ear, pretending to talk into it.

“I also heard that you did something without orders last night.”

Kenshin remained silent.

“You know that it was dangerous for you to have that woman’s body cremated. You should have notified the usual people instead of doing it yourself - even for Takasugi’s sake. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is all.”

Without another word to Kenshin, Katsura clicked his cell phone closed and slipped it into his breast pocket. Then, Choshu’s leader disappeared into the crowd.

Garbed in his black Japanese overcoat, Kenshin scaled the mansion’s outer wall undetected. Night had come and the assassin was completing his duty. The information in the black envelope Katsura had given him was clear and simple.

Setsuko Amemiya
Amemiya Mansion, 9 p.m. Enter through the second floor window.

It was certain that many guards would be protecting the female politician. Since his instructions hadn’t mentioned sparing any lives, Battousai assumed that the body count could be as high as required. Although the assassin tried to be oblivious to political intrigue, he knew that Setsuko Amemiya was one of Bakufu’s main supporters. Therefore, it shouldn’t have surprised him that she was next to be executed for Choshu’s sake. It was, however, strange to be assassinating a woman. He had never killed a female before.

Battousai vaulted over a second wall and pulled himself into a tree. A large window in the second floor was now within jumping distance.

Allowing himself one more thought, Kenshin wondered if the rumours about a love relationship between Katsura and Amemiya had any truth to them. But it didn’t matter anyway. What had to be done to bring an era of peace would be done, no matter what the cost. Emptying his mind of all feeling, Battousai leapt from the tree and crashed through the window. As he rolled to a standing position, he heard the guards begin to yell in alarm. Shaking off the shards of broken glass, Kenshin rushed forward with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Without slowing, he flicked his sword out and slashed through the midsection of the first man blocking the way.

Setsuko Amemiya stood by the fireplace in her large study, watching the flickering flames. She heard the shouts and the screams and knew that an assassin was coming. She smiled bitterly to herself.

Setsuko was a tall, elegant woman dressed in a silk kimono. With one long finger, she pulled at a gold chain at her neck. A locket dangled from the chain, sparkling in the light of the fire.

The noise died down and all was silent.

“So,” she mused aloud, “It has come to this, has it love?” She cracked the locket open with a fingernail, revealing the picture of a handsome, stately man. “Will you burn the world down, Kogoro?”

The double doors to her study burst open. Setsuko clicked the locket shut and held it in one hand. She refused to turn to face her assassin, red shadows dancing on her face from the fire.

“Answer me one thing,” she said clearly into the silence, “Who sent you?”

Battousai ignored her question. “Setsuko Amemiya, I have come to take your life.”

“Is that so?” The woman turned toward him slowly.

Dripping with blood, Battousai’s eyes widened in shock. The woman standing before him was dressed in a lavender kimono with her long, black hair up in a high ponytail. Her sparkling blue eyes met his. Standing there, with her hand clasped around a pendant, she looked just like…

“Kaoru,” the assassin mouthed inaudibly.

“Katsura sent you, did he not?” the woman stated quietly, reaching behind her, “I am not afraid to die for what I believe in.” She pulled an ornate sword from the mantle. “But I will not die easily.” Holding the sword out in front of her horizontally, Setsuko slowly pulled the scabbard from the blade, the metal shining in the firelight. She threw the gold-encrusted sheath to the floor.

“Setsuko Amemiya,” Battousai repeated, his throat suddenly dry, “I have come to take your life.”

He lunged forward, his already bloody sword aimed for her heart. Setsuko knocked the blade away, twisting agilely. Hesitating only for a moment, Kenshin whirled around, swinging his blade wildly. Setsuko leapt from its path, knocking over a porcelain vase. The expensive relic crashed to the ground.

“You can’t be the legendary Battousai, can you?” Setsuko asked, calmly picking herself up, “You seem distracted.”

Kenshin grit his teeth and collected himself for another attack.

“You are hesitating,” she commented, “Could it be that you have never fought a woman before?”

Would you kill me?

“Prepare to die,” Battousai hissed, racing forward again.

Their swords clashed again. Setsuko tried her best to deflect his violent blows, but her grip on her sword began to weaken. As for Battousai, his face began to contort and his movements became wild with frenzied abandon.

Could you kill me?

Striking viciously at Setsuko’s sword hand, Battousai knocked her blade away. In an uncharacteristic move, he lunged forward and grabbed the woman by the throat, pinning her to the floor.

“Setsuko Amemiya,” he panted, raising his sword above her exposed jugular. “Kaoru Kamiya…”

“I will pray for-” she began quietly.

Before the words could slip from her lips, Battousai plunged the tip of his sword into her neck, blood splashing upwards.

“You will die!” he screamed suddenly.

His chest heaving, Kenshin stood in the darkness of the room. The fire flicked off the dark walls. Glancing down, he saw the blue ribbon, the black hair, the azure eyes. He cleaned his sword and sheathed it, hardening his heart to the sight. Striding over to the fireplace, Battousai picked a flaming log from the fire with tongs. He tossed it toward the sofa and then took another and flung it onto a table. As the flames began to lick at the walls, Battousai stalked out.

It is my duty.

“It’s done.”

“Thank you for informing me, Shinsaku,” Katsura replied, speaking quietly into the cell phone.

Calmly and quietly, Katsura closed the phone and set it onto his bedside table. Clothed in a silk sleeping robe, he sat on the edge of the bed, stiffly staring at the wall. Closing his eyes, he silently recited his painful creed. Sacrifices are necessary for a better Kyoto. Over and over again he repeated it to himself, knowing that it would do him no good.

How had they come so far? They had gone from arguing good-naturedly about politics in college to dealing in death. Though love had bound their hearts together, differences in ideals and principles had led them to separate camps: her to Bakufu and he to Choshu.

Setsuko.

And for Choshu’s goals to be realized, she had to die. Katsura was indeed burning the old world down so that the new era could rise from the ashes like a phoenix.

But, he thought bitterly, all he was left with were the ashes.

Kaoru was sitting on the sofa, watching the fireplace when she heard the key turn in the lock. When Kenshin had left, she had stoked the fire so that the apartment would be warm. Hearing the door creak open, she jumped to her feet and turned.

Kenshin slipped silently into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Looking up, he saw her standing by the fireplace. Kaoru’s welcoming smile faded as Kenshin’s face twisted in terrified shock.

Silhouetted by the dancing flames, she stood facing him with her long black hair pony-tailed and her blue eyes shining. She was still alive. While his mind screamed incoherently, his body sank into instinct. Crouching into a battle stance, the assassin’s eyes narrowed in rage. Shouting an unintelligible battle cry, he launched forward, his sword flashing out of its sheath. Kaoru had no time to be surprised. Reacting instantly, she ducked and rolled out of his path, her shoulder crashing painfully into the glass corner of the coffee table. Wincing in pain, she stood and stared at the heavily panting assassin.

“What happened, Kenshin?” she cried, throwing herself out of his way as he swiped at her wildly again.

The man turned glazed eyes onto hers. Kaoru barely stifled a gasp. From his frenzied movements and unfocused eyes, she could tell he was not himself. Though he was attacking fast and strong, his actions lacked the preciseness and finesse that they usually exuded. Snarling and grunting, Kenshin knocked her into the brick wall beside the fireplace. Kaoru cried out in pain, holding her bruised shoulder. His rough fingers closed around her throat. Opening her eyes, she saw the cold glint of steel at her neck.

“Kenshin,” she nearly pleaded, “What are you doing?”

“My duty.” The words were barely understandable.

The blade shivered. Kaoru glanced at his arm. It was shaking.

“Kenshin,” she tried again, meeting his eyes, “It’s Kaoru. Let me go.”

His fingers pressed harshly against her windpipe, forcing tears from her eyes. The hot liquid fell from her cheeks onto his dirty hands. Shaking his head in confusion, Kenshin backed up suddenly and grabbed at his head, the sword clattering to the floor. He sank to his knees.

“Kenshin!” Kaoru cried, kneeling down, “What happened?”

“Did I kill you?” His question was muffled.

“What?” Kaoru asked, surprised, “No. I am right here.” She lifted his chin and tried to meet his focusing eyes.

Kenshin stared at her doubtfully and then stood, drawing back. “I need…” he muttered, turning away. Without completing his sentence, he turned and headed for the bathroom. Kaoru heard the shower start and she sat on the sofa, frowning.

When Kenshin emerged from the shower, he was immediately met with Kaoru’s questioning blue eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said flatly, taking his seat in the leather armchair adjacent to her and bowing his head, strands of wet, red hair tumbling forward.

“You owe me.”

Kenshin’s head shot up. “What?” he demanded.

“You owe me,” Kaoru stated simply, “For that incident just now.” She stood from her seat on the sofa and approached his chair slowly. Standing over him, she bent over and stared him straight in the eye. “Now tell me,” she ordered, “What just happened?”

Kenshin stared back at her, his eyes cold. “I mistook you for someone else.”

“Who?”

“The woman I killed tonight.”

Kaoru frowned and leaned in closer, touching his cheek with a delicate finger. “Are you going crazy?”

Kenshin raised one sceptical eyebrow. “Of course not.”

“You seem distracted,” Kaoru observed, tilting her head to one side.

“I am never distracted,” Kenshin replied through tight lips.

It was Kaoru’s turn to raise a brow. “That so?”

Kenshin leaned back into the leather seat, bowed his head and closed his eyes. Kaoru drew back slowly, watching his stony expression. Slowly, she sank down to her knees. She huddled next to him on the floor and placed her head on his knee.

“What are you doing?” Kenshin’s tone was distant and cold.

“Sleeping.” Kaoru’s answer was flippant.

“If you continue to sleep like that,” Kenshin’s low voice sounded from above, “You will hurt yourself.”

“I won’t leave you alone.”

Kenshin sighed loudly. “Just go to bed.”

“I want to comfort you,” she said quietly, “Just like last time. Share your struggle.”

“What do you care?” Kenshin retorted.

Kaoru ignored him, choosing instead to wind one arm around his calf.

Kenshin heaved a sigh. “It would comfort me just as much if you would sleep on the bed,” he lied, “Or at least the sofa.”

Kaoru looked up at him from her position on the floor. “Sit on the sofa then.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not moving.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“No.”

“Stubborn bitch.”

“Yup.”

“Fine.”

Kenshin suddenly stood, Kaoru’s head slipping from his knee. He stalked to the couch and sat on one end, arms crossed irritably. Kaoru smiled triumphantly. Raising herself from her spot on the floor, she tiptoed to the sofa and stretched out like a cat. Yawning, she curled up on the other end and rested her head on the back of the sofa. Closing her eyes, she reached over to place one hand on Kenshin’s knee. He inwardly sighed and uncrossed his arms. He tried to brush her hand from his leg, but she latched onto his fingers. Giving up, he let her hold his hand and leaned back to sleep.

The room was filled with morning sunlight when Takasugi stepped into Kenshin’s apartment. His eyes scanned the room, looking for his colleague’s red head above the armchair’s backing. What he saw instead was Kaoru’s ebony hair. She was holding a finger to her lips and motioning for him to keep silent. Takasugi cocked his head to one side, curious. He sauntered over to the living area and peered over the sofa.

A faint, surprised smirk rose to his lips.

Kaoru was kneeling on one end of the leather couch, the assassin’s head resting in her lap. She was gently stroking his crimson hair with one hand while he slept soundlessly, stretched out across the sofa.

“Did he fall asleep like that?” Takasugi inquired in a whisper.

Kaoru shook her head. “I moved him while he was sleeping.”

“Honestly?” Surprise was written all over his face.

“Is that so weird?” Kaoru asked, a smile brightening her face.

“Well, yeah,” Takasugi answered, scratching his head, “Himura never sleeps in anyone’s presence. And besides, no one would be able to move an assassin in his sleep.”

Kaoru shrugged.

“Did you drug him?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Takasugi-san,” Kenshin’s voice startled them both, “Do you have to be so loud in the morning?”

Kenshin lifted himself from Kaoru’s lap and sat up. Hooking one arm over the sofa, he turned to stare at the other man.

“Well,” Takasugi teased with a smirk, “If I had known you were busy, I would have called first.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Kenshin snapped, “What are you here for?”

“Ah, always to the point,” Takasugi chuckled, “Meeting with Katsura tonight at the Sakura Tea House.”

“Fine,” Kenshin said, standing.

“Both of you.”

“What?” Kaoru exclaimed, “I don’t want to go there again!”

“Too bad, missy.”

“Well, I see you’re back to normal,” Kaoru grumbled.

“You mean,” Takasugi grinned, “Back to business.”