This is different from the previous chapters so far.
How so? Read on to find out… =)
Disclaimer: I would rather choose
short-lived freedom, than being embraced by an illusion forever. (Camui Gackt,
Oasis)
Altered Memory
Chapter 4 – Part I: Delve into the Man’s
Mind
At first, Kenshin thought she was faking
to gain his sympathy. Angrily, he reached down and shook her, but she didn’t
move. Her greenish pallor and her limpness convinced him the faint was real and
a sickening fear punched him below the belt. Swearing, he gathered her up into
his arms.
It was about a quarter of a mile back to
the house but she felt no weight at all, her body as frail as a bird’s, only a
tiny pulse fluttering at her temple to show she was still alive. How did she
manage to look so innocent and childlike? he thought savagely, looking down
at the thick lashes fanning against her bloodless cheeks, her raven-black head
pressed against his chest.
The shock had been like a kick in the gut
when she’d walked into Yoshida’s sitting room yesterday; thinner, although
she’d always been delicately built; different, with her hair cut short instead
of lying down her back, but he’d known her instantly. It was like being caught
in a timeslip, the fingers of that old obsession clutching at him again.
Why had she come here, disturbing his
peace of mind when it had taken years to get her out of his system? Hadn’t she
wrought enough havoc then?
He’d watched her grow from a sweet,
appealing kid to a highly desirable young woman. Even at sixteen or seventeen,
he’d sensed in her the capacity for passion, and the first time he had kissed
her, that passion had burst into flame with an urgency that had shaken and
delighted him. And like a fool, he believed it was a response she felt for him
alone.
That evening of Misao’s birthday party
when Kaoru had enticed him into the summer-house at Merrifields should have
warned him she was her mother’s daughter and not as sweetly innocent as she
appeared. He could have taken her then without protest, and might well have done
had not Shura’s fortunate appearance reminded him he had a more urgent
priority.
His lips tightened as he remembered his
incredulity when he’d heard that Kaoru was up on a charge of manslaughter. At
first, he’d been convinced there was some terrible mistake, until they’d told
him the facts, that at the party she had drunk herself out of her mind, has
taken her brother’s car without permission and had killed a child in mindless
progress. Even then, when his first shock had subsided, he’d felt pity for her and
concern, believing he knew what the knowledge that she had taken a life would
do to a girl as sensitive as Kaoru. But he’d been wrong about that too. Kaoru’s
sensitivity had been only in his own imagination. If she could show so little
concern for the man who had been the only father she’d known, how could she
care about some child who was a stranger to her?
God, but she’d got off lightly! Merely a
conviction for drunken driving because her defense had pleaded that the child
had contributed to its own death by being out at that time of night on a
bicycle without lights. All it had cost Kaoru was her license – Yukio had paid
her heavy fine – and in return, she had laid on him a death sentence. For a few
days before her trial, her stepfather had a massive stroke. But she had never,
not even once, been to see him. Instead, she had taken off for America to
her mother, and life that sickened him. Kenshin only hoped Yukio never heard
any of the stories. He especially hoped and prayed that Enishi Mishima’s drunken
boast that he’d had Kaoru himself more than once hadn’t come to Yukio’s ears.
It had taken Kenshin a long time to get over that piece of information himself.
But he had gotten over it. He’d cut
himself off from the social circle that had once included Kaoru so he didn’t
have to listen to any more stories of her flitting from lover to lover like her
mother, had worked like a slave to drive out the disillusion. He hadn’t lacked
for female company but had made sure his relationships were of the casual variety.
It was only recently he’d felt the need
for something more permanent, the need for a home and a family f his own. He
still hadn’t decided where that home would be but he had chosen the wife who
would share it. Tomoe was ideally suitable. The only child of an industrialist,
she was wealthy enough in her own right not to be merely attracted by his
money. She was sophisticated enough not to expect him to be like some love-sick
boy. His life was mapped out the way he wanted it to go and he was damned if he’d
let Kaoru Kamiya’s sudden, unwelcome reappearance disturb things.
Angrily, he shouldered open the back door
of Vine House and faced the accusing looks of the two women hovering in the
kitchen.
“She’s hurt!” Meg stepped forward to brush
back the sweat-dampened tendrils of hair clinging to Kaoru’s forehead.
“She’s only fainted,” Kenshin replied
tersely.
“But what happened? Where was she?”
Yoshida demanded. When dinnertime was approaching and Kaoru still hadn’t
returned from the winery, she had sent Kenshin in search for her.
A dull flush stained Kenshin’s cheekbones.
“I set her to work in the vineyard this afternoon. She was till there.”
Both women stared at him in horrified
disbelief. “Kenshin, you didn’t! are you mad?” He had never seen his aunt so
angry. “Get her up to her room at once. Meg, call Dr. Taseki and tell him
what’s happened, then come upstairs and help me to undress her.”
Wordlessly, Kenshin carried his burden
across the hall and up the stairs, wanting to be irritated by the women’s panic
but deeply uneasy himself at Kaoru’s continuing unconsciousness. He laid her on
the bed and stood looking down at her, feeling unaccustomedly helpless as he
willed her to come round.
“Whatever possessed you, Kenshin?” His
aunt’s voice behind him startled him, the fact that she had struggled up the
stairs unaided a measure of her anxiety. “Dr. Taseki specifically said she was
not to get overtired.”
“She really is recovering from an accident
then?” He pushed his hands distractedly through his red hair. “I thought that
was just an excuse so she wouldn’t be asked to do much work.”
Yoshida stared at him in bewilderment.
“Why on earth should you think that? I don’t understand you, Kenshin. I’ve
never known you to dislike someone on sight before – and for no reason that I
can see.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell
her all he knew about the woman she was defending staunchly, but instead he
said, “You have to admit she was very evasive when I asked her about this
so-called accident last night.”
“And that was enough to make you assume–”
Yoshida sighed and limped across the room to sink tiredly on the edge of the
bed. “Maybe she was foolish it to play it down like that, but that’s Kaoru. She
didn’t want it known what had actually happened to her, but Dr. Genzai told me
what a very close brush with death she’d had. And he trusted me to look after
her!” She glared at her nephew accusingly. “If he can forgive you for this, I
don’t know if I can. What that bomb blast failed to do, it seems you’re well on
your way to accomplishing.”
Kenshin stared at her, anger and disbelief
fighting a losing battle against her certainty, but before he could say a word,
Meg rushed into the room. “Dr. Taseki will be right over.”
Yoshida levered herself to her feet.
“Perhaps you’ll leave us now, Kenshin. We must get Kaoru into bed.”
Biting back the questions that seethed in
his mind, Kenshin glanced once more at the still, white-faced figure on the bed
before walking out of the room that seemed to have no imprint of the woman who
had occupied it for almost a week. Either Kaoru had taken his aunt in so
completely, or there were things he ought to know. Running downstairs, he
rushed to his study. It was time he did what he ought to have done the moment
Kaoru Mishima Kamiya walked back into his life. Picking up the phone, he dialed
Dr. Genzai’s number.
The little mare broke into a gallop and
Kaoru shouted aloud in joy, her long hair streaming behind her, the wind hot in
her face. So drunk on the triumph of outstripping Kenshin that she never saw
the rabbit hole, and the next moment she was sailing over Marinka’s head and
crashing to the turf. Her head felt light as if it didn’t belong to her and she
hurt everywhere, but Kenshin’s arms were around her and she knew she was safe. She
wanted him to hold her like this forever and ever. She wanted to tell him but
something seemed to have happened to her tongue it worried her, not being able
to speak, because if she didn’t tell Kenshin how much she wanted him to go on
holding her, he might let her go.
And then his arms were suddenly gone and
there was no more safety anywhere. She was alone, roaming the face of the
earth, searching… searching… the cold streets of London, the burning African
bush, the shattered, war-torn Middle East. She could sense again the tension
that never relaxed, the fear that was a familiar taste in her mouth. The street
with its bullet and bomb-scarred buildings was busy but was tense and uneasy
with everyone hurrying. She heard the whine of the shell and grasped her
companion’s arm, felt the terror as they cringed together, looking behind them,
saw the building heave a split second before the blast threw them forward. She
screamed…
Hard hands gripped her shoulders and
forced her back against the pillows. She opened dazed, fearful eyes to see
Kenshin Himura’s grim face staring down at her and for a moment thought she was
still in the grip of the nightmare.
Do you agree with Kenshin's reasoning? I
think maybe now we can at least understand where his annoying attitude comes
from…
Hmmm, so how was it? It's different this
time, right? I just wanted to take a different approach this time! =)