Chapter 12: spaces of sin

I fall without ceasing

Into the spaces of sin

Even in daylight a smoky haze filled the air of the Sakura Teahouse. It being only mid afternoon, only a few drunks lounged at scattered tables. Kaoru coughed her way through the main room of the teahouse, following Takasugi to the back.

Ahead of her by a few paces, Takasugi pushed back a second curtain and called out, “Sorry I’m late my darlings!”

Kaoru stumbled in after him, her eyes squinting at the sudden bright lights of the back room.

“Dammit,” she heard a female voice curse, “I could have made a good hundred in the time we were waiting for your sorry ass.”

Takasugi chuckled. “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll pay you good money for tonight.”

Kaoru blinked uncertainly, clearing her eyes and looking around. She rubbed at her eyes and gasped slightly at the unexpected sight before her.

The back room turned out to be even bigger than the main room. Even though the ceiling was as low, it was a wide, brightly lit open space with polished hardwood floors and solid wood walls. Folding tables and chairs were stacked high at one end of the room.

However, more shocking than the clean air, was the sight of more than thirty women scattered throughout the space – mostly scantily clad. A few greasy looking men dotted the room as well, weaving their way around the women like bees.

Kaoru’s gaze shot at Takasugi, who was looking down amusedly at a small, heavily made up woman wearing nothing but a bra and skirt.

“You better pay us good,” she was saying in a cigarette hoarse voice, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Cause we’re here wasting time. And you damn well know that for us, time is money.”

Takasugi smirked and beckoned to Kaoru. The woman caught his gesture and turned two blue lined eyes to Kaoru.

“Is that her?” she asked, her voice riddled with scorn, “That’s the under-cover bitch you made us wait for? Damn,” she said, leaning back and jutting out a hip, “I could probably scratch that’s kid’s eyes out in three seconds. Why the hell is she so damned special that we’re all wasting time here?”

Takasugi patted the woman’s black, frizzed hair as if she was a cute dog. “You’ll get your money,” he said, “Just shut up.”

Kaoru stared wide-eyed at the woman, forgetting for the moment her own indecent clothing. The woman glared back at the girl with a derisive smirk.

“Bitch doesn’t even have a decent pair of boobs,” she half-snarled.

A furious blush heated Kaoru’s cheeks and she forced herself to hold her gaze level.

“Oh come on now,” Takasugi laughed, coming over to Kaoru’s side and taking her elbow between two fingers, “Just because your tits are starting to sag, doesn’t mean you have to criticize this young, perky bosom.”

Kaoru turned glaring eyes to Takasugi, opening her mouth to unleash angry protests. Takasugi glanced down and began to guide her by the elbow.

“No now, dearest,” he cooed falsely, “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?” He pointed to the bitter-faced prostitute before them. “Since you’re already familiar with this one, let’s start here. This is the woman known as Mimi. She’s a hooker,” he explained in an overly fatherly voice, “Don’t do anything to her.”

“Like she could,” the woman huffed.

Takasugi ignored the comment and pulled Kaoru, who had just remembered her aversion for high heels, along to the next group of scantily clad women.

“This is Annie, Jessica and Mary,” he said, pointing to three girls one at a time, “As you can guess, they cater mostly to American business men, hence their names.”

Annie, a tall, skinny woman in a tube dress, laughed raucously, “The geezers like to be able to pronounce the names they moan during a screwing.”

Kaoru’s eyes widened again and her rosy blush began to creep onto her cheeks again. The prostitute named Jessica, a sultry full-figured woman, smiled with pouting lips and sidled up to her.

“Oh my,” Jessica crooned, “You’re quite the innocent little beauty.” She traced a manicured fingernail down her cheek. Looking up at Takasugi, she remarked suggestively, “This one would bring in quite a market. Maybe after this is done you could let her work with us for awhile?”

Kaoru flinched backwards suddenly, fearful protesting in her blue eyes. Takasugi laughed heartily.

“Unfortunately we have other plans for her,” he smiled.

Jessica shrugged and took a step back. Kaoru shuddered.

“My dear,” Takasugi said to Kaoru, “Get a good look at everyone’s faces here. They’re the women you leave alone.”

Attempting to focus, Kaoru scrutinized each face. “But,” she began hesitantly, “What if…you know…their make up?”

“Don’t worry honey,” Jessica said in her luscious tone, “We’ll all look the same. We’ll keep the same make-up masks, that is.”

Kaoru nodded, still staring. Takasugi tugged her along, naming each girl and letting Kaoru memorize each face. In a state between curiosity and shock, Kaoru tried to focus on their physical features instead of imagining their emotions. She tuned out their crude comments and refused to meet their blatant eyes directly.

“Hey,” Takasugi’s voice and a light elbow to her side roused her from her solitude, “You listening?”

They were making their way across the room the last remaining small group of women. All the others had departed to attend to their businesses after having been introduced and received instructions.

“Why?”

“You need to know this.”

“Why should I need to know their names,” she hissed, “I only need to know their faces.”

Takasugi replied softly, “You never know when you might need someone’s help.”

“Their help?” she whispered incredulously.

“You never know,” Takasugi said cryptically, turning to flash a smirk at the ladies they were approaching.

“Kaoru,” he said, “This is Amanda and Linda.”

Kaoru studied Amanda’s porcelain skin, tall nose and cropped brown hair. Already tired and slightly annoyed by the intense glares she had been receiving from everyone, Kaoru noted disdainfully that Amanda’s beedy eyes were pale, translucent brown.

Takasugi was still making useless small talk and Amanda was responding in childlike giggles, showing off her yellowing teeth. Kaoru turned to the next girl and started from the feet, expecting more of the same.

The first thing that Kaoru noticed about this girl, Linda, was that the bright red nail polish on her toenails was chipped in several places. Kaoru caught herself in a scornful thought about the personal hygiene of prostitutes. Slim, almost skinny, calves and thighs followed. A tiny, cheaply-made drawstring skirt hung from pubescent hips and Kaoru found herself playing the cynic and wondering why the woman couldn’t afford better clothes since she was sleeping with rich men for money. Her eyes trailing slowly upward, Kaoru noted with distaste the protrusion of a slightly rounded belly.

She could at least to try to look attractive, Kaoru thought vindictively.

Long wisps of black hair floated from behind the girl’s slim back and shoulders, barely concealed by a white halter-top. The white, smooth neck showed the faintest spots of blue hue, as if fingers had been crushed into her windpipe not too long ago.

Serves her right, Kaoru thought.

And then Kaoru stopped herself. What had she been thinking? She berated herself for condemning the woman in front of her. The girl was a stranger. An unknown. Kaoru’s mind flooded with a sense of shame for thinking ill of the girl without even trying to understand her circumstances.

It’s too easy to cast blame.

After all, Kaoru admitted to herself, she was trying to help an illegal organization and an assassin. In a twisted way, they were alike. Linda was selling her body and Kaoru felt as if she were selling her soul. Perhaps the woman was better off than she.        

She glanced up to regard Linda’s face and instantly knew that she had been mistaken.

For one, instead of blatantly staring eyes, Kaoru was met with downcast eyelids. That fact alone startled her. Then the rest of Linda’s face began to materialize into Kaoru’s range of vision.

One might have said that Linda was pretty. She possessed an oval face framed by long, thick locks of black hair that fell in rivulets over her bare shoulders and near-naked chest. Her thin eyebrows arched above her delicately, downcast doe eyes and her full, lipstick red lips pouted beneath a small button nose.

She might have been considered somewhat pretty had it not been for the purple-dotted blue bruise swelling over one eye, the jagged cut on her lower lip and the dotted red line of a nasty scab that ran from her temple to her cheek.

Before she could help herself, Kaoru inhaled sharply.

“Nasty sight, isn’t she?” Amanda’s rough voice cut in.

Linda’s eyes flicked up quickly to glance at Amanda. Just as quickly, she looked down again. In that singular moment, Kaoru knew Linda’s eyes were an uncommon blue-grey.

“That’s right bitch,” Amanda snarled, the giggle gone.

Kaoru turned to glare at Amanda, a sharp rebuke forming on her lips. “Why are you talking to her like that?” she demanded, instantly taking Linda’s side.

Amanda smirked, and said in a voice devoid of emotion, “Why? What the hell do you care, Miss Prissy?”

“You shouldn’t, that’s why.”

Amanda laughed. It was a dry, grating sound that told of years of unhappiness. “Where’d you get this kid?” she asked Takasugi, who had strangely fallen silent. “Mind your damned business,” she said to Kaoru.

Kaoru anger shot up. “It’s my business if you’re mistreating her.”

“Mistreating?” Amanda chuckled mirthlessly, “We’ve all been mistreated our whole fucking lives. Too bad you weren’t around to save us all then.”

Amanda grabbed Linda’s arm with her thin fingers and Kaoru could see Linda wince with discomfort. Takasugi’s gaze fell to the floor and only Amanda’s fierce brown eyes and Kaoru’s blue eyes remained level.

“Why don’t you tell her,” Amanda jibed at Linda, who still refused to look up, “Tell her why you’re so screwed up. She thinks you didn’t deserve it.”

Linda pulled her arm away desperately, turning her face away. Her hand instantly went to her rounded belly. Amanda smirked cruelly.

“Even now,” Amanda hissed, raising a hand to slap the girl.

The smack resounded through the hall with agonizing clarity. Linda let her face remain turned away, a faint red handprint glowing on her cheek. Amanda was staring at her furiously, as if she were an enraged, abusive parent.

“Why won’t you just spit it out,” Amanda seethed, “Just say his name and they’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

Linda bowed her head again, her hand still cradling her stomach.

“Takasugi-san,” Linda’s soft whisper was both a plea and a reproach, reminding all of them of their present situation.

“Yes well,” Takasugi responded, his head snapping up and his smirk bright, “We should be off. Thank you ladies.”

Spinning on his heel and taking Kaoru by the elbow again, he began to march off. Kaoru looked over her shoulder as she was forcibly led from the back room, managing to catch a glimpse of Linda before the curtain flapped closed.

She was standing as an old woman, her hand over her belly and her forlorn blue-grey eyes lifted to watch them leave.

“Okay now,” Takasugi was saying, “I’m going to show you a map of the penthouse suite where the party’ll be so you can figure out where to hide the unconscious body guards.”

Distracted and playing with a lock of her pony-tailed hair, Kaoru asked, “Who was she?”

“Who was who?”

“Linda.”

“A prostitute.”

“Well, obviously,” Kaoru sighed, exasperated, “But why was she beaten up?”

“Why do you want to know?” Takasugi asked, lightly teasing.

“Just humour me.”

Takasugi’s joking tone dropped into something more serious, more unreadable. “She’s a hooker who works for a pimp who calls himself Dante. She had a boyfriend and got herself pregnant. A pregnant prostitute doesn’t sell so well so they’ve been trying to get the name of her boyfriend from her.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, “So why doesn’t she just tell so they’ll stop beating her?”

“Maybe she loves him.”

“So?”

“So if they find out who the boyfriend is, they’ll extort him for money to pay for the time she won’t be making any money for them. Or they’ll kill him if he can’t pay. Or they’ll expose him to the media just to get even.”

“Seems to me that if the boyfriend loved her back, he should come forward.”

Takasugi shrugged. “Maybe he can’t. It’s hard to cast blame.”

Kaoru looked down and hugged her chest. “I feel sorry for them both,” she said softly.

Takasugi looked down at the top of her head and scratched his ear.

“Anyway,” he said, resuming his obnoxious tone, “All this bonding is making me noxious. Let’s hit the road, my perky breasted friend.”

Kaoru coloured and grit her teeth. “You perverted old man!”

“Now we’re back on track.”

The dim lights and pounding music were giving Kaoru a headache. She wandered half-heartedly through the gaudy penthouse suite, trying to scan the faces of the dancing women inconspicuously. Gyrating, bare flesh was everywhere. Sitting in the very centre of the room on a white leather couch was the only man in the suite. Allan Morton had a woman on his lap, several women plastering themselves to his sides and more than a few groupies trying to get his attention from the back.

Kaoru felt nothing but revulsion for the man. When Katsura had mentioned that Allan Morton would be surrounded by women at all times, she had naively assumed that he was therefore a young and dashing business type. On the contrary, Allan Morton had turned out to be a grey-haired, pig-nosed man with fat rolling in bulges from every visible part of him.

Kaoru resisted the urge to rub her temples and tried to remember what Takasugi had told her about working undercover as a hooker.

“Never look pissed off or grumpy,” he had instructed, “Always pretend to be stupid and sleazy. Sway your hips when you walk.”

Here he had tried to grab her hips to show her and she had batted him away. “Never push a man away,” Takasugi laughed, “A hooker being paid would never do that. Always make the customer happy. If anyone gives you trouble, just smile at them seductively. Let them feel you up or something.”

At Kaoru’s mortified look, Takasugi smirked and continued, “You’re a hooker aren’t you? Listen, you’ll be in a room full of women. The only man will be Allan and from what I hear, stay the hell away from him. But if you can’t, just play along and don’t let anyone suspect you’re not what you’re pretending to be. Otherwise you’re dead and we can’t help you till 2 AM.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“If you can’t think of anything, just give a catty smile.”

The catty smile had been an instant facial expression as Kaoru had entered the suite. As the whores filed in, a tall woman had felt each woman’s clothes and crevices, checking for weapons. Obviously, that tall woman had been the first identified bodyguard. And Kaoru had barely been able to conceal a squeak of discomfort. However, she had managed to produce a somewhat catty smile and sashay away.

However, getting in had been the first obstacle and now ten more obstacles lay ahead. Gradually, as Kaoru feigned dancing, she catalogued every face that she recognized. Twirling slowly on the polished dance floor, she scanned the women’s faces.

At the edge of the room, standing at either side of the door, were two unknown women. Both were tall, lean women dressed in tight, black biker shorts and halter-tops. Kaoru’s gaze darted away from them so as not to be caught staring. While smiling cattily at no one in particular, Kaoru scolded herself for not realizing sooner that some bodyguards would obviously be standing by the exits.

Sure enough, as Kaoru peered between bodies to glance at the three bay windows, she spotted one unknown woman positioned at each.

That made five. Five more to locate.

A thought dawned on Kaoru. She glanced at one of the bay windows. The bodyguard there, a blond bombshell, was wearing tight blue biker shorts and a halter-top. Kaoru’s eyes shot to the other window. That bodyguard, a tiny brunette, was also wearing some version of the same. The third bay window sported a muscular woman in biker shorts and a halter-top.

Allan Morton’s bodyguards had a uniform.

Kaoru smothered a bounce of joy. Trying to suppress her unladylike habit of pushing through crowds, Kaoru attempted to sway her hips over to a more central location on the dance floor, earning her a few knowing glares from prostitutes she recognized from the Sakura Teahouse. Since her heels were so high, she had no need of rising to her tiptoes to see above most of the women’s heads. From her new vantage point, she easily picked out four other women in biker shorts and halter-tops. These were also women she had definitely not seen at the Sakura several hours before. Shaking her head in realization, Kaoru noticed that the four bodyguards, though dispersed through the crowd, formed a loose circle around Allan Morton’s current position.

Of course! The five first guards formed an outer perimeter and the four guards she had just identified formed an inner perimeter. Now the only one remaining to be found was the head bodyguard. Kaoru hazarded a guess that she would be right where Morton was.

Kaoru wiped the beading sweat from her forehead and turned to glance at Morton. Her face fell instantly.

Standing directly behind the disgusting man stood a tall, willowy woman dressed in a flashy red pair of biker shorts and red halter-top. Around the woman’s hips, a snug holster hosted a handgun and a large hunting knife. Morton’s head bodyguard was an exquisite woman with billowing red hair and sharp green eyes that roved the room incessantly.

Kaoru checked her frown and turned away, remembering that she need not worry over the chief bodyguard for the moment. Kaoru turned her blue eyes back towards one of the bay windows, studying the blond bodyguard. Glancing quickly at her watch, Kaoru knew she only had a little over an hour to complete her task. She inhaled deeply and enumerated to herself the various hiding places Takasugi had identified as places to possibly fight and stash the unconscious bodyguards. As soon as Kaoru started to weave her way through the dancing bodies, her heart’s pounding began to echo through her body and the loud music and twisting bodies seemed to fade away.

The clock had started and she had very little time.

Battousai, draped in black, strode purposefully through the neon-lit streets – although in reality he had no purpose at all. In fact, he had been wandering the city with a determined stride since nightfall, waiting impatiently for the appointed hour to come. His measured steps helped to easy the tension that stung his muscles together. But his mind was wandering unacceptably.

His orders were to be at the door to Morton’s penthouse suite at exactly 2 AM. His brain told him to wait. His body spoke otherwise. For the first time since the beginning, Battousai felt the urge to rush to the scene of the crime.

Unfortunately, he had the intelligence to recognize the reasons for his feelings of urgency.

The damn girl.

Her incompetence was screaming for him. Battousai strode through the gritty streets, ignoring all around him. The damn girl was bound to get herself into some kind of trouble. She would jeopardize the mission, he knew it.

But was it only about the mission?

Kenshin stopped dead in his tracks, causing a raucous young man to crash into his back.

“Hey,” the halfway drunk man stuttered angrily, “What the-”

The sudden yellow glare that Battousai sent him over a black-clothed shoulder sent the man staggering away. Kenshin, still standing still on one of the busiest street in Kyoto, berated himself. It was only this morning that he had decided to avoid her at all costs and dismiss her from his thoughts. As an assassin there was no place in his mind, let alone his heart, for frivolous emotions. His eyes narrowing in concentration and staring blindly at the pavement, Battousai weighed his options. If he rushed over the Moriya hotel before the appointed time, she might think that he was doing it for her. But then he might be able to stop her from ruining the well-planned out assignment. Even with his little lesson on self-defence, he seriously doubted that she would be able to take on so many trained bodyguards. On the other hand, if he did NOT go right away to the Moriya hotel, he risked letting her destroy his chances at getting to Morton. If she were to be discovered, Morton’s bodyguards would whisk him away. Battousai frowned.  

Of course his worry was only about the mission.

With a determined nod, Battousai broke into a smooth, controlled run towards the Moriya hotel, Allan Morton and …

Kamiya Kaoru.

Kaoru was consciously slouching amid the dancing hookers, trying to regain her breath inconspicuously. There was a nasty bruise swelling on her thigh and a few scratches scattered over her bare skin. Her chest was heaving from the latest scuffle. But more than anything, her mind ached with all the captured memories. Almost an hour had passed and she had only managed to get rid of the outer perimeter of bodyguards.

The first bodyguard had actually been the hardest to lure out. Following Takasugi’s advice, Kaoru had purposefully passed a bodyguard by the window and pretended to be hiding something in her shirt. After ducking into a hidden alcove, it had been a matter of baiting and waiting. When finally the bodyguard had poked into the alcove to investigate, Kaoru had snatched away her memories with a touch to her forehead. The first bodyguard had fallen and Kaoru had dragged her unconscious form to one end of the secret room.

One by one, the other guards had trickled in to find out where their compatriot had disappeared – only to have their memories and consciousness taken from them. Though the first had been easy to beat, Kaoru grew increasingly tired. By the fifth, her mind and muscles were exhausted.    

Though each had extraordinary fighting skills, all Kaoru needed to do was touch their forehead and concentrate. So, she had let each catch her in order to get close. Then, making use of Kenshin’s lessons, Kaoru had bit back at them and lunged in towards her goal. 

Blinking back stinging tears from her latest acquisition, Kaoru had limped out from the alcove and hidden herself among the dancing women, trying to get a glimpse of the next four guards she would tackle.

Black spots danced in front of her eyes from the sheer weight of five new minds inside her own. Feeling a wave of dizziness pass over her, Kaoru fought to stay standing.

A cool hand on her upper arm steadied her. Kaoru looked back, startled.

Sultry eyes stared back from under heavy eyelashes.

“Come on now,” Jessica breathed, “Don’t let it get you.”

Kaoru blinked back at the prostitute, her eyes going round. “You-”

“Think you should get some life into you.” Without another word, Jessica slipped in behind the long-legged teen and wrapped an arm around her waist, swaying gently to the music.

“What are you-”

“Shush,” Jessica murmured, trailing fingers up Kaoru’s neck, “Just swallow.”

Suddenly, Jessica’s fingers darted between Kaoru’s lips. Kaoru felt a chalky tablet touch her tongue. As she coughed it into the palm her hand, Jessica slipped away silently and swiftly. Staring down at the small white tablet, Kaoru read wonderingly aloud.

“Tylenol.”

She looked over her shoulder for Jessica. But the woman had melted into the crowd. She glanced around, confused.

“It’s some help,” someone blew in her ear.

Kaoru almost jumped. Then scanned for anyone who might be talking to her.

“From Takasugi,” a quiet whisper from her left.

Kaoru whipped around but no one was looking at her.

“Said you might have a headache,” another murmur from behind.

She whirled to catch the speaker but they too were invisible. Kaoru looked back down at the Tylenol. She did have a splitting headache. Finally, she threw back her head and tossed the pill in, swallowing with a gulp.

Shaking the kinks loose from he neck, Kaoru pushed slowly through the crowd – towards the bodyguards in the centre.

Battousai was sprinting up the stairwell, his hand on the hilt of his sword. In a few moments, he would be outside the door of the penthouse suite. His face was set, his eyes cold and his movements smooth. His thoughts, on the other hand, were a jumbled assortment of contradictions. He still doubted that he should even be in the hotel yet.

He stopped instantly at the top of the stairwell, silencing his inner conversation. Like a shadow, Battousai slipped through the door and into the plush, velvet red lobby.

Kaoru inched her way closer to one of the bodyguards, her back towards Allan Morton. No need to catch his attention or the attention of his red-haired bodyguard. She was practically rubbing up against the blond bombshell of a bodyguard when she stopped to wonder what to do. How on earth could she get this woman out of sight?

In the end, her choice was made for her.

“You’re a bit close, missy,” the woman’s deep voice interrupted Kaoru’s scheming, “Whores should rub up against the boss, not me.”

Kaoru looked up, her eyes plainly showing her annoyance. Before she could stop herself, a retort shot from her lips, “What’s it to you, Madam Amy Smith?”

The blond bodyguard’s eyes widened angrily. “How did you know my name, bitch?”

Kaoru, fumbling for a catty smile, attempted to giggle. “Um, I can’t believe I got it on the first try!”

“I don’t buy it,” the bodyguard, Amy Smith, snarled, grabbing onto Kaoru’s arm in a crushing grip. Amy raised her arm to beckon to the chief bodyguard at Morton’s side. Kaoru spun away quickly, giving the redhead a view of the back of her head but nothing else.

“Come on, bitch,” Amy’s deep voice sounded menacingly, “We’re taking a walk.”

Kaoru was yanked forward as Amy pulled her through the crowd of dancing women and towards the double oak doors. Taking care not to let the chief bodyguard see her face as they passed the centre of the room, Kaoru glanced around at the other three bodyguards who were watching her exit calmly. As she and the hulking blond began to pass another bodyguard, Kaoru suddenly threw her weight against the woman.

“You skank!” the blond cried, retaining a bruising grip on her arm.

With a curt nod, the other female bodyguard grabbed onto Kaoru’s arm. Aware that she was creating a scene, Kaoru kicked at both of captors. Twisting painfully in their grasp, she was able to land a couple of good kicks. It earned her a punch in the stomach and two more bodyguards heading her way.

Obviously, Mr. Morton did not like to see scuffles. With quick efficiency, the four bodyguards were around Kaoru in an instant, pushing and pulling her towards the doors.

“Figures Leila and Lily would take a break right when we need them to throw some trash out,” Amy snorted as she hauled the doors open.

Kaoru held back a self-satisfied smile. Then she was unceremoniously tossed to the red carpet onto her hands and knees outside the suite. Amy and another bodyguard stood in front of her and two others were behind. Kaoru mentally catalogued them: there was Amy, the blond, to start with. The one standing with her was a short brunette. Behind her, Kaoru saw a pale woman with bleached white hair cropped short and another bronzed woman with shoulder length brown hair.

“You girls want to get back to the party?” Amy asked the two behind Kaoru.

“Can’t we have some fun?” the white-haired woman answered with a devilish smirk, “This bitch won’t take long to dispose of.”

The grand oak doors swung shut, dulling the pounding rhythms and the bright lights.

“Want to talk?” Amy smiled coldly while flipping out a dagger, “Or scream?”

Kaoru looked up from the floor, her eyes defiant. “You won’t be able to make me scream,” she declared staunchly.

“Is that so?” Amy bent over and grabbed a fistful of Kaoru’s ponytail. “You seem a bit overconfident,” she hissed, pulling Kaoru’s face up painfully to her own.

Kaoru grimaced in pain and raised a twitching finger. Amy smirked, flipping back strands of golden hair.

“Begging, are we?” she smacked her lips at the pathetic way the girl was lifting her fingers to touch her forehead.

The other three began to laugh, enjoying the sight of it. However their laughs died abruptly as their comrade suddenly slumped down to the floor in a heap. Shocked into a panic, they stared at the little black-haired girl, who was struggling to stand and panting heavily.

“What the hell?” the brunette cried angrily.

Kaoru managed to raise herself to her feet, hunched and shaking. The brunette rushed at her, her fists poised to strike. But as the woman threw her weight forward, Kaoru swerved to one side and brought her clasped hands down onto the bodyguards back. The woman fell but before Kaoru could reach down to her forehead, another bodyguard sprang upon her. Kaoru’s front leg swept that one off her feet.

“There are three of us you know,” the bronzed woman commented cruelly as her comrades stood in a circle around Kaoru, “And you won’t be able to take us all.”

Kaoru stood in the middle of their deadly circle and straightened to her full height, staring each down with determined blue eyes. Her stance was admirable, considering that she was weakened and outnumbered.

“Slightly unfair odds.”

All of the women spun instantly towards the deep, male voice. From the shadows of a hidden corner, a lean figure emerged.

“Don’t you think?” Battousai asked, standing casually with one hand loosely wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“Who are you?” demanded the brunette.

“The weight that tips the scale,” Battousai said quietly, pulling his sheathed sword from the belt at his waist.

“What the hell does that mean?” the woman sputtered, “And what can you do anyway with a sheathed sword?”

Battousai closed his eyes for an instant, only for an instant. In the next he was on the other side of the room and the brunette lay on the floor behind him, unconscious.

“Kenshin!” Kaoru protested.

“Do your job!” Battousai hissed at her, as the bronzed bodyguard launched herself at him.

Kaoru tried to nod her understanding but found that her neck was suddenly being choked from behind. She grabbed at the chain that the other bodyguard was wrapping around her neck. With a loud cry, Kaoru jammed her elbow into the other’s stomach. The woman only pulled tighter. Struggling to inhale, Kaoru wrapped her fingers around the chain and suddenly dropped to the floor, flipping the bodyguard over her head. The bodyguard twisted in midair, trying to land on her feet. But Kaoru held fast to the chain and pulled forward as hard as she could so that the woman could not gain footing. Rather, she stumbled forward and fell face first with a crash. Dropping the chain, Kaoru bent over to roll the pale woman over.

As she reached out with her fingers, a fist closed around her wrist. The pale bodyguard’s disturbingly grey eyes opened suddenly.

“What the hell are you anyway?” she hissed, her voice low and her grey eyes sharp.

Kaoru pulled back instinctively, dislodging her wrist from the bodyguard’s grip. The woman lunged forward and aimed to catch Kaoru’s neck in the crook of her arm and force her to the ground. But just as her arm connected, Kaoru thrust her hip behind the woman and, using the contact her already had, pushed the woman backwards. The white-haired woman fell backwards and Kaoru leapt atop her, straddling her. Without another moment of hesitation, Kaoru leaned in and firmly pressed her fingertips to the woman’s pale forehead.

Instantly a jarring shock shot up from her fingertips and she felt as if she were being sucked into an unending tunnel of colours and sounds. Kaoru gritted her teeth as she was caught up in a stream of intense emotions and scenes. Pulled by her fingertips through a black hole of image and sound, she sought the strength to survive the overload of sensations. She broke as if she were the crest of a wave, crashing down amidst the sharp rocks of life. The pains received and dealt out, the bitter truths learned and lived by and the harsh discipline of a bodyguard assaulted Kaoru’s consciousness and threw her mind into convulsions. It shook her to the core and then spit her out, like the whale spat Jonah onto the sand. She lay, naked and burning, on the sands of an unknown continent. And then, the void of silence.

A lifetime in a minute.

Kaoru willed her eyes to open. Hazily and slowly, she lifted heavy lids and focused tired eyes. Two yellow headlights? Furrowing her brows, she peered upwards. A cat looking at her? She blinked, focusing her bleary eyes.

“Kaoru?”

Battousai was leaning over and staring down at her. Kaoru looked past his iridescent amber eyes to see the dim ceiling lights above. She pushed herself onto her elbows and sat up. Looking around, she saw the three bodyguards propped up against a wall – unconscious but tied up.

“How long have I been out?” Kaoru asked, rubbing her forehead.

“Long enough,” Battousai replied curtly, standing abruptly.

Kaoru shot a dark glance at his back and pushed herself to her feet slowly. “What do I do now?”

Battousai glared at the framed poster on the wall. “What you are supposed to be doing,” his tone was measured and steely.

Kaoru snorted, then pressed her lips together and stared at his back. Battousai remained silent, his body rigidly planted in front of a tacky poster and his eyes trained at the mish-mash of colours. The awkward silence stretched between them like an ocean. 

“Oh fine,” Kaoru huffed, turning toward the doors.

Kenshin almost sighed. “Wait,” he commanded quietly.

Kaoru paused just as her fingers were brushing the handle. “What?”

Battousai swung around swiftly and strode towards her, his eyes staring at something behind her head. Kaoru found herself taking a deep breath involuntarily as Battousai’s intense presence drew near.   

“Did the chief bodyguard see you?” Battousai asked curtly.

“Not my face,” Kaoru replied defensively.

“So she saw you being taken out of the room?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“She’ll recognize you.”

“How would you know?”

“Anyone with half a brain would put two and two together, little girl.”

Kaoru drew her shoulders up angrily. “I am NOT a little girl, you-”

“Let down your hair.”

Kaoru took a step back. “What? Why?”

Battousai’s golden eyes moved from the point beyond her head and fixed themselves onto Kaoru’s. “Let down your hair so she won’t recognize you from the back.”

“That’s stupid.”

“It will cover your back and your shirt. Do it.”

“Oh fine,” Kaoru sighed and lifted her arms to undo her ponytail.

Immediately, Battousai spun around and marched to the other side of the room to stare at the ugly painting again. Kaoru undid the tie in her ponytail and shook her hair loose, letting the midnight locks cascade over her shoulders and down her back. She massaged her scalp lightly and sighed.

Battousai, staring at the reflection in the glass of the poster, watched as Kaoru lifted her slender arms to flip her long hair over her shoulders. He watched as she bent forward to pull the edges of her jean skirt down and then straightened to pull the tiny black tube top higher. Kaoru brushed her delicate fingers over the smooth skin of her chest and stomach, as if there were flecks of lint on her clothing. He observed silently as she twisted her elegant white neck to glance at her tight bottom. Stretching and wringing out her lean, slim legs, the ‘little’ girl turned to stare at his back. Battousai, though pretending not to, stared back at her reflection.  

“Okay,” Kaoru announced, widening her arms, “How do I look?”

“I don’t care how you look,” Battousai said in a deadpan tone.

He watched as her childlike brows furrowed at him in response. She shrugged and turned. A sudden blast of light and music burst from the oak doors as Kaoru quietly pulled one open a crack and slipped in. Then the great door swung shut quietly and Battousai was left to stare at a vanished reflection in dark silence.

We cannot do this, he whispered, pronouncing the sentence on himself.

Kaoru forced herself to concentrate on pretending to be something she wasn’t and on keeping her eyes averted from the chief bodyguard. The pounding music and flashy lights constituted an unwelcome atmosphere after the cool darkness of the lobby. She wove her way slowly through the crowd, slowly nearing the centre of the suite where she would wait for the appointed time. Above the music, Kaoru could hear the boisterous laugh of an old man. She repressed a shiver.

“That one!” the crackling voice was yelling, “Bring me that one over there!”

“Who?” a female voice sounded from nearby, “This one?”

“No! Left! Left!”

Kaoru turned slightly to see one of the prostitutes moving and pointing amid the dancing women. She moved to stand beside another woman and pointed.

“This one?”

“No!” cried Allan Morton, “Left! LEFT!”

“But sir,” the prostitute suggested coyly, trailing her hands down the woman’s waist, “This one is so beautiful and refined. Why would you need another?”

Morton face scrunched up in an angry grimace. “NO!” he yelled like a spoiled child, “The left one! LEFT!”

The prostitute, resigned, stood beside Kaoru and pointed. “This one?”

“Yes!” the man called in broken Japanese, “Bring her. I want her now.”

Kaoru eyes widened as she felt herself pushed in the direction of the disgusting man. She heard a muttered apology from the prostitute pushing her forward. Kaoru fought her urge to make a grimace of disgust. Instead a half-hearted catty smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She suddenly felt very naked.

“Ah!” Morton exclaimed, his beady eyes bulging, “This young, tender one!”

With a fat hand, Morton latched onto Kaoru’s skirt and pulled. To avoid losing her skirt, Kaoru sat – and found her bottom resting on Morton’s knees. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Beautiful,” Morton snivelled, sniffing out her neck with his pig nose.

Kaoru tried not to move or stare at the black mole that peeped out from beneath his thinning grey hair. She fought hard to keep still as she felt his pudgy, sweaty palms move up her legs. The old man giggled.

“Wonder what’s up here?” he asked, sliding a finger up her skirt.

Kaoru could not stop herself. She gave off a convulsive shiver, knocked his hand away from her leg and stood, glaring down. Gradually, however, her indignant glare became self-conscious glancing around. Morton was staring up at her quizzically as if he was child who had lost his toy. The red haired bodyguard was arching an eyebrow at her. Kaoru’s skin began to crawl. She glanced quickly at the chief bodyguard, waiting for her to start noticing that the other guards were missing somehow. Morton, his sweaty grip surprisingly strong, pulled Kaoru down by the wrist. He peered into her face and she averted her eyes.

“You’re not a whore at all!” Morton suddenly exclaimed.

Kaoru’s body went cold.

“Indeed she is not,” a soft feminine voice came from above.

Kaoru’s heart froze. She looked up to catch her betrayer in her gaze. But, with surprise, she found her eyes met calmly by blue-grey – the previously forlorn eyes of Linda.

Chapter 13: kindred hands

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.

To be continued