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Broken Pieces: Chapter 18 - the will to protect

by linay

Daring to reach another,

I fall forward into fear

“You’re going to do that again?”

“Shinsaku,” Katsura admonished, “Don’t you have any clue as to how the human heart works?”

“Geez, Kogoro,” Takasugi chuckled, running his hand over his hair, “That was harsh. I just mean, it seems like you’ve tried that trick already.”

“Indeed, I have,” Katsura said with a nod, “And I’m going to put them in almost exactly the same situation tonight.”

“But why?” Takasugi asked, pulling on his earlobe.

“Because,” Katsura explained slowly as he paced his office with deliberate steps, “Humans are mere animals. When faced with danger, humans react on the basest of instincts. If we capitalize on that principle, Himura and Kamiya will play right into our hands.”

“You make it sound as if you’re not human.”

“Am I human?” Katsura pondered aloud, “I’m inclined to think otherwise.”

“Well,” Takasugi exhaled, throwing his hands in the air, “Whatever. Just tell me what to do already.”

Katsura smiled lightly. “Always a man of action.” Reaching down, he pulled a thick envelope from a desk drawer. “Take this,” he ordered, tossing the package to Takasugi, “And make sure it’s all arranged for tonight and the next day.”

“Whoa,” Takasugi snorted, thumbing through the contents of the envelope, “This is a lot of stuff to take care of. Tapes, gangsters and geisha. You’re so damn complex, Katsura.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.” Katsura said, leaning back in his leather chair.

Takasugi grinned, his canine-like teeth shining. “That’s what you pay me for, anyway.”

“We’re leaving in half an hour. Please tell me you’re not going to wear that.”

Kaoru, sprawled out on the sofa, looked up from her textbook to see Kenshin glowering down at her.

“What’re you so uptight about?” she asked, rolling over to her back.

“Tell me,” he repeated, folding his arms over his chest, “That you’re not wearing that.”

“What? This?” Kaoru smirked, looking down the tank top and shorts she was currently sporting, “Why not?”

Kenshin leaned forward, placing his hands on the back of the sofa and glaring down at the teenager.

“Oh come on!” Kaoru laughed, rolling her eyes and shifting onto her stomach, “Have a little faith!”

“Faith?” Kenshin asked quizzically, “What do you mean by faith?”

“Kenshin,” Kaoru said, her nose in the textbook, “Let’s not make every conversation into a therapy session, okay?”

“Kaoru,” he whispered, leaning over suddenly.

Kaoru nearly jumped off the sofa. The sensation of his warm breath on the back of her neck was completely unexpected. Turning over slightly, she suddenly found herself nose to nose with the assassin.

“Kenshin,” Kaoru scolded, pursing her lips, “You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

“Just tell me-”

“Okay. Let me spell it out for you,” Kaoru interrupted, “I’m going to study for twenty-five more minutes. Then I am going to change into those jazzy new clothes we got today. Is that acceptable?”

“Fine.” The redhead spun away on his heel, marching away. Kaoru heaved a loud, exasperated sigh and turned back onto her stomach to continue studying.

“Here they come,” Takasugi muttered, blowing cigarette smoke into the crisp night air. Lazily flicking the glowing ashes from his cigarette, he eyed the approaching couple.

He watched the man stride through the darkness, his steps clipped and quick. His face was stern and his unwavering stare was fixed ahead. The edges of Takasugi’s lips twitched into an amused smirk as his gaze slid from Battousai to the girl at his side. In direct contrast to the man’s stony countenance, the girl nearly bounced with energy as she walked. Only her milky profile was visibly to Takasugi, as she was noisily accosting Battousai with questions.

“What’s the matter with you?” She was exclaiming in her vibrant voice, “You’re not still moping about the jeans, are you?”

Takasugi’s smirk widened. Obviously, a shopping trip had prefaced this outing. He noted that Kaoru had wisely opted for a pair of jeans. Although she wore her white school blouse, her present outfit was far less risqué than the school uniform she had worn on her last nighttime visit to the Sakura Tea House.

Sucking in one last, long drag from his smoke, Takasugi listened to Kenshin answer Kaoru in low tones.

“Well,” Kaoru huffed, crossing her arms over her breasts, “I don’t think they were expensive at all.”

More indecipherable rumbling answered her from Kenshin’s tight lips.

“It was your idea,” Kaoru replied, turning and jabbing a finger at her stony companion.

Takasugi flicked the end of his cigarette to the wet asphalt and pushed himself away from the doorpost of the teahouse.

“Well, hello!” he interrupted as he stepped into the drizzling rain to greet them, “And welcome back!”

“Whatever,” Kaoru snorted, placing her hands on her hips, “Just get out of the way so we can get out the rain.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because you’re wearing a white shirt,” Takasugi leered.

“What-” Kaoru began, brushing her bangs out of her eyes angrily.

“And it’s raining.”

Kaoru’s eyes expanded angrily. “Why you-”

“Takasugi-san,” Kenshin calmly interjected, “We will go in now.”

Propelling Kaoru with a hand on her back, Kenshin brushed past Takasugi into the teahouse.

“Dirty old man,” Kaoru muttered as she passed him.

The Sakura Tea House was as hazy with smoke and as saturated with the heavy stench of alcohol as it had been the last time. Figures moved like dark shadows under the clouds of smoke and the clinking of bottles, ice and glass constantly sounded above the crowd’s noise.

“Stop.”

Kenshin and Kaoru simultaneously turned back to look at Takasugi, whose voice had suddenly become commanding.

“The girl stays with me. Himura, go see Katsura in the security room at the back.”

“But-” Kaoru began to protest.

“No buts about it, missy,” Takasugi interrupted, “Those are the instructions.”

Kaoru opened her mouth again to argue, planting her hands on her hips obstinately.

“Stay here, Kaoru,” Kenshin’s low voice sounded authoritatively, “He won’t do anything to you.”

Kaoru, surprised, turned to stare at her guardian. His golden eyes met hers for an instant, then flicked upward to Takasugi’s.

“I will return.”

Without another word, Kenshin turned and strode into the dense crowd. Kaoru watched as the mass of bodies parted for the red-haired assassin. He moved liquidly though the room, the crowd reforming slowly around him.

“Well,” she sighed, “What do we do?”

Takasugi gestured toward a small table near the teahouse’s entrance. “We sit and wait.”

“Oh, how exciting,” Kaoru exhaled, heading toward the seats, “At least we’re near the exit.”

Kenshin rapped loudly on the door to the security room at the back of the teahouse. He pushed the thick door open slowly and stepped into the dimly lit room.

“Close the door.”

Kenshin pushed the heavy metal door shut.

“Look at this.”

Kenshin advanced into the room. It was lit only by wall-to-wall, black and white TV screens. He headed toward the tall shadow that he knew to be Katsura, staring at one of the screens. He stopped just behind the suited leader.

“There they are,” Katsura said quietly, pointing to the screen in front of them.

Kenshin looked up at the screen Katsura was pointing at. He saw Kaoru and Takasugi seated at a table near the door, apparently involved in a verbal spat.

“She’s quite an item isn’t she?” Katsura’s voice was prodding as he turned slightly to eye his most efficient tool.

Kenshin’s facial features remained unreadable, his eyes still fixed on the black and white images.

“Shall we zoom in?”

Katsura pointed a remote at the screen and the camera’s view suddenly zoomed in on Kaoru’s face. Kenshin stared at her animated expression, her eyes sparkling lividly.

“What did you want to see me for?” Kenshin asked, his eyes still riveted to the screen.

Katsura regarded Battousai shrewdly. “She has beautiful eyes.”

Kenshin’s only response was a brief tightening of his lips.

“And such nice lips.”

Kenshin watched Kaoru run the tip of her tongue along her lips as she paused in speech.

“Sir,” he said, his eyes leaving the screen to meet Katsura’s mild gaze, “What is it that you want?”

“I want to show you something.”

Turning toward the myriad of screens, Katsura again lifted his remote. With a few clicks, the wall of screens changed suddenly, square images blinking from black and white to vibrant colour. Kenshin’s eyes widened.

Each screen depicted a different view of the interior of his apartment.

“What is this?” Kenshin asked brusquely.

“Your apartment,” Katsura replied, facing his employee, “But this is not exactly what I want you to see.” Walking to a large console, Katsura punched in a few keys. All the screens suddenly flickered on and off, becoming as one big screen showing Kenshin’s living room. Kenshin stared at his larger than life living room as if through a thin wire grid.

“I have eyes everywhere,” Katsura said quietly from behind, “And I see everything.”

Kenshin heard the deft, metallic click of a button. The screens simultaneously went dark and then lit up again, once more depicting his living area from above - except that this time, he could see people.

Three figures. Two men and one girl, all seated on his leather sofas. He watched, captivated, as their mouths moved silently in angry conversation. One figure rose slowly and stalked toward the girl. Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her long black hair and pulled her up. The girl began to cry.

Kenshin watched himself level a sword to the girl’s throat. Staring into the screens, he saw his own amber eyes widen in rage as he flung the short sword into the wall and threw the girl down to the floor by her hair.

The screens suddenly became a mess of indistinct lines and colours as Katsura forwarded the images.

“You were never volatile before, Himura,” Katsura’s voice rose above the whizzing of the picture, “And we never expected that violent reaction. Nor could we anticipate this.”

The picture stilled suddenly. The room was dim and only the orange light from the fireplace provided light. Examining the moving history, Kenshin could pick out two shadowy figures. He recognized his red hair in an instant. And there she was, resting by his feet, her head on his knee. She was crying. He hadn’t seen that then.

“Did you know that she was crying for you?” Katsura’s voice cut through the heavy air of the room.

“Yes.” He felt as if his voice was a mere croak. “No.”

“You mean,” Katsura said, his tone carefully measured, “You knew that she cried, but not that much.”

Kenshin remained silent, still transfixed. The child was weeping, the tears dripping to the floor. He saw his own breaths become regular in sleep.

“An assassin sleeps very lightly,” Katsura narrated, “And it’s common knowledge that no one can touch you in your sleep.”

The light from the fire died down. And then, movement.

Kenshin’s eyes widened as he watched Kaoru lift her head from his knee. The screen casting shadows onto his face, he watched as Kaoru lifted herself from her sitting position and bent over his sleeping body. She placed one hand on his chest. Then, brushing the hair from his forehead, Kaoru placed two fingers in the center of his forehead. Her body convulsed suddenly and she pulled away, falling to floor at his feet, her hands clenched around either side of her head. He saw her fall prostrate to the carpet and lie still by his knee.

“And that’s how you found her in the morning,” Katsura cut in, “You assumed she had fallen in her sleep, never guessing that it was she who had taken away your nightmares for the night.”

Kenshin’s fingers curled into painful fists at his side. Katsura stepped closer, once more blurring the screens by fast forwarding.

“We know that you attacked her last night,” Katsura continued, his voice mild, “She does resemble Setsuko quite a bit, doesn’t she? But what we find strange is that you allowed yourself to be distracted and lose sight of yourself.”

Kenshin’s fingernails cut into the palms of his hands.

“Since she’s been in your custody, you’ve become much more explosive. Even to the point of harming your co-workers.”

“If you are referring to that scumbag-”

“There is more that I want you to see,” Katsura interrupted.

Again the images whizzed by, stopping suddenly. The assassin was sleeping on the sofa and the girl was sitting beside him, her hand in his. Again, she pressed her fingers to his forehead and again her body began to twist in agony. He watched as she clutched painfully at the upholstery, her fingers digging into the leather sofa. Slowly, she slumped forward, apparently coughing and choking. She shook and trembled for a few moments and then slowly stilled, breathing deeply. Silently, Kenshin watched the two-dimensional scene play out on the screen before him. The lightly trembling girl reached for his sleeping head and gently pulled him toward her, slowly guiding him into laying his head in her lap. He watched her tears drip onto his own sleeping face.

“Has a woman ever cried for you before?”

“I don’t know.” Kenshin’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Quite touching, actually,” Katsura commented, “Kamiya’s strength is in her unreserved compassion, her universal will to protect those around her - even the one who just tried to kill her.”

“So?” His tone was forced.

“I have found a new use for her,” Katsura announced, “Besides erasing our enemies memories, that is.”

The room went completely black. Then the monitors flickered back on, showing a different view. Kenshin saw himself push Kaoru into the wall, his hands trailing down her body and his face in the crook of her neck. Her blue eyes were startled. He watched himself pull her head back and stare into her flushed face.

Katsura watched Kenshin’s face twist with rage.

“Why are you showing this to me?”

“You need an outlet.”

“What?” Kenshin turned away from screen, his fierce profile illuminated by the flickering light of the screen.

“You have become unpredictable and violent.”

“You are doubting my efficiency?”

Katsura stepped back, raising one hand. “Not in the least. But you are acting strangely around this woman and you are becoming more and more volatile. I think I’ve found a solution.”

“And what would that be?”

Katsura lips lifted in a cold smile. “I’ll give her to you.”

“What?”

“You can have the girl,” Katsura replied, his voice smooth, “Do whatever you want with her - just make sure she is still able to use her particular abilities for us.”

“What-”

“She is quite an attractive girl. I’m sure you agree,” Katsura cut in, “And I also think she’s the reason you act up. I hear from Takasugi that you threw back the prostitute he sent you. I have decided we must appease you in some different way. I think that if you could,” he paused, smiling, “have this girl, then you would be more satisfied and less unstable.” Katsura watched Kenshin’s features tighten angrily. “Think of it as an employment bonus.”

“In other words,” Kenshin snarled, “You’re giving me permission to screw her.”

“Put crudely, yes.”

“What if I don’t want her?”

Katsura smiled tolerantly, lifting his remote. Kenshin’s gaze whipped back as the screens flickered back to black and white. Katsura pressed another button and sound filled the room.

He heard muted screams and angry yells as a small girl tumbled through the front door of the teahouse. A few burly men followed her. The little girl cried out as one man pulled her up by her short hair. The man dragged the child back toward the door and swung her cruelly out into the rain.

“Stop!”

He would have known who had spoken even if he had not been watching the screen.

Defiant. Obstinate. Foolish girl.

Kaoru jumped from her seat, her eyes brilliant with anger.

“Who the hell are you?” The man sneered, turning toward her voice.

“Let that child go!” Kaoru commanded, ignoring his question.

The man chuckled. From outside, Kaoru could her the little girl’s plaintive cries and whimpers. Her face twisted into an angry scowl.

“See you later,” the burly man threw over his shoulder, turning to leave the teahouse, “Sorry for the noise, folks.”

“No way,” Kaoru grit out, launching herself toward the man.

Skidding to a sudden stop right behind the giant, she dropped suddenly and delivered a powerful kick to the back of his knees. The man tumbled forward, his knees buckling underneath him. Kaoru vaulted over him, straight into the rain outside.

“Here we go,” Takasugi breathed, lazily rising from his seat and sauntering outside to watch. A small crowd also trickled into the street, curious. Leaning against the doorpost once more, Takasugi watched Kaoru knock a man down with a roundhouse kick, then twist the arm of the man who held the small girl captive. He let go with a pained cry and the child fell onto the wet pavement. Kaoru crouched down beside her.

“Are you okay?” she asked the child gently.

“Yes,” the little girl nodded, her short hair bobbing up and down.

“Then, go home,” Kaoru ordered.

A clammy hand clamped down on one of Kaoru’s forearms, hoisting her up. Twisting around, Kaoru flipped her attacker with a loud cry. She turned back to the child.

“Run!”

Nodding furiously, the little girl jumped up and ran, disappearing around a corner. Kaoru smiled, satisfied.

“What’re you smiling at, bitch?”

The group of brawny men sneered at her, loosely forming a circle around her. Kaoru snorted, crouching down into a battle stance. The men rushed forward and Kaoru sprang into action, lashing out fiercely.

Kenshin watched from the back room, his eyes widening and his golden pupils shrinking dangerously in a deadly rage.

He saw it before it happened. Although she was strong, it would not be enough. One by one, her graceful limbs would be immobilized. First, her right wrist, caught mid-swing by the hulking fist of one man. Then, her long ponytail, the thick strands snagging around the burly fingers of another attacker. She was pulled abruptly back, bending backward from the waist. Kenshin watched as she attempted to twist out of the painful position. He started toward the door, only to be held back as Katsura lifted his arm to block him.

He froze in place, casting Katsura a questioning glare.

“Wait,” Katsura commanded quietly, lowering his arm.

Kenshin turned infuriated yellow eyes back toward the scene playing out before him.

She fell, coughing, to the ground. The detestable sounds of laughter reached his ears.

By my hand, and my hand alone.

“You said that she was mine,” Kenshin hissed.

“If you accept that,” Katsura said quietly, “Then you may go.”

“Mine,” Kenshin breathed, racing from the room and nearly tearing the door from its hinges.

Battousai tore through the club, ignoring the bodies in his way. Pausing in mid-flight, he changed direction and vaulted over the bar. The startled bar tender backed away, hands up. Kenshin ignored him completely and crouched instead, his fingers searching for something beneath the bar. He pulled a thick metal pipe from its hiding place, spinning it once in his masterful grip. He leapt over the bar easily, and rushed toward the doorway.

Kaoru was down, wet tendrils of hair matted to her face, hacking and choking from the kick that had just landed in her midsection. She struggled to stand but a vicious backhanded strike threw her sprawling to the pavement. Kaoru rolled, barely avoiding being crushed by a heavy foot.

Kenshin pushed roughly through the gawking crowd until he stumbled into the open arena. The rage in his eyes froze into cold calculation. Five hulking men. One girl, lying soaked on the ground. His eyes lit up with cold flames, his face twisting into a feral snarl. He took off at a run, leaping into the foray.

He landed with a thud, crouched with one foot planted on either side of the girl.

“My woman,” Battousai hissed.

“Shinsaku,” Katsura breathed, approaching the edge of the arena slowly.

“It seems to be going as you planned,” Takasugi reported quietly.

“Kastura-san,” a high-pitched voice sounded from below, “Did I do well?”

Katsura looked down to see the small girl with short, bobbing hair. “Yes, Tsubame, you did very well.”

Tsubame looked toward the battle scene. “Will she be alright?”

“Yes,” Katsura answered gently, “Don’t worry. You may go home now.”

The girl once again disappeared into the crowd.

“Ingenious,” Takasugi commented dryly, “You’ve managed to kill two birds with one stone. Using Tsubame to push Kenshin into whatever plan you had and get him to beat the living daylights out of those goons.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Stay there,” Kenshin commanded Kaoru, rising from his crouch, one foot still on either side of her.

Battousai straightened slowly, twisting the long metal pipe deftly in his grasp. “You will regret touching my woman,” he snarled at the men surrounding him.

Kaoru’s eyebrows shot up. From between his planted feet, she craned her neck to stare at his furious eyes. Her breathing suddenly heavy, she pulled herself into a kneeling position. Battousai’s enraged eyes flicked down and met her questioning blue gaze. She froze. The command in his eyes was clear.

The red-haired demon leapt clear of Kaoru, the pipe spinning in his hands. Their attention now solely on Battousai, all five hulking men rushed at him. For a moment, Battousai’s form was lost to sight as he landed in the center of the group of men. Then, in a burst of action, the men fell outward, clutching painfully at various body parts. Kenshin, his amber eyes gleaming, stood with the long pipe extended horizontally behind him.

“Bastard!”

In response, Battousai’s lips curled into a sardonic smirk. As the assailants ran at him again, Kenshin twisted the pipe above his head and brought it down forcefully on one man’s shoulder. As that man fell heavily to the pavement, Battousai lashed out with sharp kicks. Somersaulting over his enemies, he struck his enemies with bone-crushing force. The metal weapon whizzed through the air, knocking the men down mercilessly.

Kaoru watched through the rain, transfixed by the fluid strength of Battousai’s movements. The last attacker flew at him from behind. Without even turning, Battousai spun the metal pipe and jabbed backward, catching the man in the shoulder. With a quick backhand swipe, he knocked the man to the ground, unconscious. For a moment, all was still. Then the assassin rose slowly, tossing the pipe to the ground. The metal pipe clattered loudly to the ground as loud cheers rose from the onlookers. His head turned slowly to face Kaoru’s startled expression. The raw power in his gleaming eyes shot jolts of electricity through her joints. Startled, she quickly bowed her head.

“I’ve never seen him so intense,” Takasugi breathed, not even aware the words had slipped from his mouth.

Katsura bowed his head, smiling slightly. “That is because the will to protect is infinitely more powerful than the will to destroy.”

The slim redheaded figure strode through the rain toward the kneeling girl. He stopped in front of her trembling form. His head pounding, only one thought ran through his mind.

Mine.

He tilted her chin up so that he could meet her blue eyes with his. A fierce grin tugged at his lips.

Mine.

He stood, encircling her waist with one arm and pulling her soaking form up with him.

Mine.

Her body was firmly pressed to his and his breath was hot on her moist face. With his other hand, he brushed back the wet bangs that clung to her eyes and forehead. She searched his hardened face as his fingers pushed into her hair. Suddenly, he pulled her head back and pressed his lips to the underside of her chin. She sucked in her breath, her heart pounding in her ears. Slowly, Battousai retracted his face from her neck. With her head still tilted backwards, he studied her face. Nostrils flaring angrily, he noticed a slight trickle of blood on the side of her chin.

“Kenshin?” Her voice was small and uncertain.

“Obstinate girl,” He hissed.

Battousai drew his tongue over the line of her jaw, licking the blood from the wound. Kaoru shivered in his arms, partly from the cold and partly from the mild stinging that his action elicited. In one smooth movement, Battousai shrugged off his trench coat and swung it around Kaoru’s shoulders, pulling it tightly closed around her. Then, jerking her forward by the edges of the coat, he leaned forward, his hair brushing her cheek. Kaoru’s sapphire eyes went wide in shock as his hissed words slipped into her ear.

“Just what the hell are you doing?” Kaoru shouted from the door to the bedroom.

Kenshin, who was standing on a chair and banging a hole into the wall with his sheathed sword, turned to glare at her. “Just get back into that room,” he ordered calmly.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Kenshin glared at her, his eyes cold and commanding.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Kaoru stepped back into the bedroom, swinging the door shut loudly. From behind her, she could her Kenshin resuming his incessant pounding. It had been nearing midnight when they had returned, soaking wet no less, from their meeting with Katsura. As soon as they had set foot into the apartment, Kenshin had pushed Kaoru into the bedroom and pulled the door shut. Forbidding her to come out, he had begun pummeling holes into the walls.

That had been over an hour ago.

The noise giving her a dismal migraine, Kaoru flopped down onto the bed, her chin in her hands. She just couldn’t understand what was going on with the assassin today.

Closing her eyes, she could still feel the warm condensation of his breath breezing into her ear, whispering those strange words into her ear as the rain poured down around them.

Kaoru shivered involuntarily. She shook her head violently, clearing her mind of the thoughts. What was that crazy old man up to?

Speaking of crazy old men. Kaoru jumped up from the bed and pulled a damp business card from the back pocket of the wet jeans that hung from the back of a chair. She turned the plain white card over in her palm and read the name on it again, Ikumatsu. The name was written in simple, embossed script in the center of the card. There were no other markings, no logo and no contact information. Just the name: Ikumatsu. Katsura has slid this card over the table, telling her that this was the name of a geisha who would prepare her for their next mission.

Kaoru set the card onto the smooth, glossy surface of the bureau. What good was a business card that had no contact information? Katsura had simply smiled at that question. Apparently, Kenshin knew where to find the woman.

The apartment was suddenly quiet. Kaoru looked up, hopeful. Then suddenly, the crashing resumed, louder than before.

“Dammit!” Kaoru cursed, stepping back and resting on the edge of the bed.

She leaned back, placing the back of her hand on her forehead and staring out the window. The red-haired assassin’s actions had always confused her, but tonight’s drenched adventure had taken the cake. Her eyelids slid closed and she allowed herself to remember the feeling of his velvety lips against her earlobe, whispering those unfathomable words. Furrowing her brow, Kaoru opened her eyes and tried to guess what on earth would have motivated the man to say something so…uncharacteristic.

The infernal pounding shattered her concentration.

Kaoru sighed, and pushed herself higher onto the plush mattress. Tracing the stitch lines of the comforter with a delicate fingertip, she called to mind the details of the plan that Katsura had outlined.

They had reentered the Sakura Teahouse after the fight, soaked through and through. Kaoru, bundled in Kenshin’s overcoat, had fully expected to be hooted at as always. However, a stark silence followed the small group as they proceeded to a small meeting room at the back. Glancing up at Battousai, Kaoru had instantly understood why no one ventured to squeak. His golden pupils roved around the room, the threat in them as plain as day.

“Quite rambunctious of you,” Katsura commented, as he settled into a sitting position.

Kaoru, embarrassed, only stared down at the table.

“Your next assignment, Himura,” Katsura addressed the assassin, “Will require Ikumatsu’s help.” It was then that he had slid the card to Kaoru.

“Ikumatsu?”

“A modern Geisha, if you will.” Katsura’s mild smile again. “Kaoru will need to be trained in polite gestures and conversation.”

“What?” Kaoru ejaculated, suddenly glaring up, “I can be polite.”

Takasugi, seated across the room from her, suddenly broke out into uncontrollable chuckles. “Damn,” he choked through the laughter.

Another mild smile from Katsura. “She will refine your technique, then,” he turned to Kenshin again, “Take her to Ikumatsu’s residence tomorrow.”

Battousai merely nodded.

“In a few days time,” Katsura continued, “Himura, Ikumatsu, Kamiya and myself will travel north to Ieyasu Tokugawa’s country estate.”

“Into the devil’s homeland, so to speak,” Takasugi said lazily.

“Choshu representatives have been invited and it’s simply a chance we cannot refuse,” Katsura’s voice became cold, “While there, Himura will kill Akira Kiyosato, the last politician who strongly supports Bakufu’s regime.”

Another curt nod from Battousai.

“Ikumatsu and Kamiya are accompanying us for two reasons. Firstly, it is a weekend party and we both need female escorts. Secondly, Kiyosato will likely bring his wife. Kamiya, you will erase her memory if she is present at the assassination. Do you understand?”

Kaoru stared back at Katsura blankly. His pupils sliding over to eye the girl, Battousai’s hand suddenly clamped down on her nearest thigh, squeezing painfully. A furious blush crept over her cheeks and she nodded quickly. His hand slid away.

“Good,” Katsura said, standing, “You are dismissed.”

Kaoru fell back onto the bed, her eyes closing. She was certain something had changed in the assassin. What on earth had Katsura said to him before he had rushed out to her rescue? She inhaled slowly, recalling the image of his gleaming eyes, staring at her through the sheets of rain. The way her breath had caught in her throat when he neared her. The intensity of his probing stare was enough to send shivers up her spine, even now. She exhaled, remembering his breath hot upon her moist skin. His calloused hands were gripping her hair and his lips were moving at her ear. And then, those words whispered in the rain.

“You belong to me.”

Kenshin stalked out of his apartment, a fistful of cords in his hand. Marching up to Takasugi’s door, he pounded on it loudly until a disheveled Takasugi swung the door open.

“What the hell, Himura?” he swore.

His eyes burning intensely, Kenshin threw the bundle of cords to the floor of Takasugi’s apartment.

“Those,” he growled, “belong to Katsura.”

Takasugi bent down and picked at the mass of wiring. Attached the end of each ripped cord was a tiny pearl-like ball.

“Well, I’ll be,” Takasugi whispered, “Those are the tiniest cameras I’ve ever seen.”

“Make sure none of them find their way back into my apartment,” Kenshin scowled angrily, spinning away on his heel.

Takasugi smirked, watching Kenshin’s taut back as he stormed away. “I’ll bet there are dozens of holes in your damned apartment now,” he muttered, grinning.

“Not like that, Kamiya-san,” Ikumatsu’s demure voice pointed out gently, “Hold the teapot by the handle with your right hand and place your left hand over the cover.” Ikumatsu paused to watch her student. “No, Kamiya-san. Hold it as if it were a very precious thing.”

Kaoru exhaled in frustration and set the teapot down harshly.

“Gracefully,” Ikumatsu said softly.

“My legs are killing me!” Kaoru exclaimed, shifting her legs our from under her, “How do you keep it up for this long?”

Ikumatsu bowed her head slightly. “It takes quite a bit of practice, Kamiya-san.”

Spreading her legs out in front of her, Kaoru sighed. “Why do you speak so softly?”

“You should also practice speaking gently, Kamiya-san.”

Kaoru turned her head to stare at the woman. She was dressed in an elaborate kimono, her hair up. Her face, though not painted, was gracious and smooth. She sat kneeling, her delicate hands in her lap. Kaoru sighed.

“I just don’t think I’m cut out for this kind of thing.”

Ikumatsu smiled modestly. “Shall we resume practicing, then?”

Kaoru sighed again. It seemed she was doing a lot of that lately. Picking up the teapot, she tried again.

“Do not hunch over at the shoulders,” Ikumatsu instructed quietly, ‘Bend forward slightly from the waist. That’s right.”

“Finally!” Kaoru exclaimed, setting the teapot down gently.

“Speak more softly, Kamiya-san.”

“Finally,” Kaoru repeated, trying to imitate Ikumatsu’s breezy voice.

A smile tugged at the corners of her trainer’s full lips. “Now,” she announced quietly, “On to the pouring of sake.”

“What?” Kaoru shot her an incredulous look. “There’s more pouring?”

“Sake is an important part of every party,” Ikumatsu explained, lifting a tray from the floor and placing it elegantly on the low table in front of them. Atop the tray lay two sake cups and one sake carafe. “The important thing to remember,” Ikumatsu continued, placing each porcelain item in front of Kaoru, “Is that you should never pour your own cup.”

“She won’t be drinking.”

Both women looked up at the sudden interruption. Kenshin, who sat with his back against the far wall, was staring straight at Kaoru for the first time that day.

“Gee,” Kaoru said, rolling her eyes at the man, “Thanks dad.”

His amber eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m not your father.”

“Well obviously,” Kaoru spat at Kenshin, “So don’t act like it.”

“Himura-san, Kamiya-san,” Ikumatsu politely interrupted with a cordial bow, “This talk is highly inappropriate. Especially between a man and his female escort.”

Kaoru blushed red and Kenshin simply looked away.

“Now, Himura-san, if you please,” Ikumatsu directed, “Would you come sit with us so that Kamiya-san can practice her skills?”

Grudgingly rising from his position, Kenshin headed toward the table and sunk to a kneeling position beside the girl, placing his sword at his side. Looking away unconsciously, Kaoru stilled as he settled.

Ikumatsu smiled. “Kamiya-san,” she said softly, “That is the appropriate response.”

Kaoru fought to slow her breathing, unsure of her own reaction. She felt the warmth radiating from the man who was mere inches from her but for some reason, she dared not look into his face.

“Now,” Ikumatsu continued, “Take the carafe in both hands.”

Kaoru obeyed instantly, relieved to be occupied.

“Now, lean toward Himura-san and pour his sake.”

Fighting to keep her hands from trembling, Kaoru leaned forward and slowly let the syrupy liquid fall into Kenshin’s shallow sake cup. She leaned back.

“Watch what he does from under your eyelids, Kamiya-san,” Ikumatsu’s disembodied voice continued, “He is demonstrating what the man you serve will do.”

Her hands, twisted in her lap, Kaoru eyed Kenshin as inconspicuously as possible. With the same powerful grace he exhibited when fighting, Kenshin lifted the cup once in salute and then brought it near his nose, swirling the liquid and inhaling. He then tilted the cup, sipping the sake slowly. The cup empty after a few sips, he set it down again.

“His cup is empty,” Ikumatsu prodded gently.

“So is mine,” Kaoru grit out through nearly clenched teeth.

“And it will stay that way,” Kenshin barked.

“Please,” Ikumatsu chided, “This behavior will not go unnoticed.”

Inhaling, Kaoru again lifted the carafe and poured Kenshin another cupful of liquor.

“Now,” Ikumatsu intoned gently, “A refined woman will never talk about crude or questionable topics. She will always speak softly and deferentially. Most of all, she knows how to use her eyes.”

Kaoru stared at Kenshin’s large hands and began to dread the next subject for practice.

“Kamiya-san, lift your eyes to Himura-san’s face and meet his eyes.”

Steeling herself, Kaoru willed her eyes to look up. Slowly, she lifted her eyes from his hands to the buttons of his jacket to his adam’s apple. With a barely perceptible gulp, she forced her eyes up to his. Kenshin was staring back at her. Though the exact expression in his golden orbs was unreadable, the way he was gazing at her was definitely disconcerting. Quickly, Kaoru bowed her head and stared at the table.

“Nearly perfect, Kamiya-san,” Ikumatsu commented, “But the action should be more fluid. Meet his eyes, hold them for a moment and then look away. But don’t look away as if you were scared - pretend to flirt.”

Kaoru moaned inwardly. She was being forced to flirt with this insufferable man.

“Do I have to?”

“Of course,” Ikumatsu merely smiled, pushing an empty sake cup toward her, “and try it while pouring him some more sake.”

Kenshin watched as Kaoru diligently picked up the carafe with her long, delicate fingers. She graciously leaned forward, letting the sweet smelling liquor flow slowly into his cup. As he raised his cup in her direction, she set the carafe down quietly. He lifted the cup to his lips, once again inhaling its flavor through his nostrils. Just as he started to sip the sake, Kaoru’s lifted her pretty head, meeting his eyes for a brief moment from under thick eyelashes. Kenshin, his cup pausing just before touching his lips, watched her tilt her head softly to the side, her hair falling to one side with the movement. Her full lips were gently pressed together as she retracted her hands smoothly to her lap. Her eyelids closed once, languidly, and she met his steely eyes with hers once more. Then, she turned away, looking down to lift her own sake cup.

Kenshin, instead of sipping, threw back the liquor immediately. Looking past Kaoru to Ikumatsu, he saw her smile knowingly. Then her brown eyes darted back to Kaoru, who was lifting a full cup of liquor to her lips. Angrily, he snatched the cup from her hands, the liquid spilling onto the table.

“I said no sake for you.”

“Jerk,” Kaoru muttered under her breath, standing up to stretch out her limbs, “Gad, that hurts!”

“Congratulations Kaoru, you’ve done well so far,” Ikumatsu complimented her, also standing, “Now we can move onto wearing a kimono and walking in geta.”

“What? There’s more?” Kaoru was definitely exasperated.

“Of course, you don’t think we’ll be wearing western clothes at the country estate, do you?”

“Oh hell.”

The drive north with Kenshin was maddeningly silent. Kaoru was slouched down in the passenger seat, bored out of her mind. On top of it all, she was feeling the urge to stick her feet out the corner of the open window - something she was sure Kenshin would not appreciate. To hell with it.

“Don’t do that,” Kenshin ordered quietly as Kaoru began to lift her feet to rest them out the window.

“Finally!” Kaoru exclaimed, pulling her feet down, “He talks!”

Kenshin ran a hand through his red hair, one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes fixed forward.

“And then he clams up again,” Kaoru said, rolling her eyes and slouching down again.

“And what would you like to talk about?” Kenshin asked scornfully, his hand moving the gearshift as the car suddenly accelerated.

Kaoru turned toward him in her seat, twisting the seatbelt out of her way. “Well, for starters,” she began, “Why are you acting so goddamn strange?”

“What exactly is strange about the way I’m acting?” he demanded, his voice low.

“Hmmm, let me see,” Kaoru counted off on her fingers, her voice scathing, “You’ve been avoiding me. You don’t talk to me anymore. And when you do speak to me, it’s in two syllable phrases like ‘get up’, ‘shut up’ or ‘get out’.” Her voice grew in volume. “You haven’t even looked me straight in the eye for days.”

The car suddenly jolted forward with suddenly increased speed.

“Just what the hell did Katsura tell you anyway?”

Kaoru suddenly found herself staring into Kenshin’s sharp eyes. “What did he tell you?”

Taken aback, Kaoru frowned. “Nothing, why?”

“What did he tell you?” Kenshin demanded again.

“Nothing!” Kaoru shrugged angrily, “What’s wrong with you?”

Kenshin clenched his teeth. Oblivious child.

“Uh, Kenshin,” Kaoru asked suddenly.

“What?” He snapped.

“Can we go a little slower?”

Kenshin glanced sidelong at the girl. “Are you afraid?”

Kaoru snorted. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. He floored the gas pedal, sending the car into a high-speed lurch toward Tokugawa’s country estate.