Chapter 18: the will to protect

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.   

New Characters:

Ikumatsu: A “modern geisha” who trains Kaoru in etiquette and who will accompany Katsura to the country estate as his escort.
Tsubame: A young girl used by Katsura to incite Kenshin to fight

Chapter 19: the will to destroy

Daring to reach another,

I fall forward into fear

The room was silent except for the rustle of silk. A slim young woman, her head bowed demurely, stood alone in the center of the polished room, clothed only in a long, white robe and ankle socks. Subdued by the lush attention already lavished on her, she stood elegantly and motionless. A short, stout woman approached Kaoru, thick layers of rich fabric folded over her arm.

“Pretty,” she whispered, raising a wrinkled finger to lightly touch the pearls dangling from one of the lacquered hairpins that held Kaoru’s hair up in elaborate twists.

Careful not to jangle the hanging baubles too much, Kaoru dipped her head lightly with a shy smile. The woman bustled around her, laying out the various kimono components reverently.

Kaoru closed her eyes.

How far had she fallen? She inhaled, the sharp cedar scent of the hardwood floors washing over her. Had it really been an eternity since she had stood in their family training hall, sparring with her father? Her father had always praised her determination but had she carried it too far? Was helping the assassin too high a price to pay?

But her father had believed that there was good in all men, even his murderers. She clung to that hope, remembering all the tender moments she had shared with Battousai. He had been cold lately, ignoring and avoiding her. She had made no effort to approach him either, puzzled by the knot that tightened her stomach every time he was near. But she could conquer her own misgivings; she had always conquered herself before. She was the one who always smiled in spite of anguish; the one who always hoped, in spite of despair.

Kaoru opened her eyes slowly. She extended her right arm gracefully, letting the cool silk slide over her arm. As the short woman bustled around her, she lifted her other arm. The other silk sleeve of the kimono was drawn onto her shoulder. With her arms raised behind her as if she were a bird preparing to fly, Kaoru let the woman wrap the rich red fabric around her body and adjust the white collar of plain robe underneath. The woman hiked the slippery cloth up so that the edges brushed against Kaoru’s ankles. She wound a stiff belt around Kaoru’s slim waist, tying it tightly. The attendant stepped back, checking that the material hung evenly. Her old face crinkled into an approving smile.

Kenshin stood alone in the serene garden, staring. He had long since clothed himself in traditional garb and his lips were a tight line of impatience. One hand rested lightly on the worn hilt of his sword that was tucked in the belt looped about his waist. Fortunately, at this party, the carrying of swords would most likely be seen as a ceremonial formality.

He turned toward the porch, his sandals scraping the gravel. Gazing at the shoji door, he could faintly see the shadows within. Kaoru was beyond that door, dressing. His impatience grew by the second. She had been in there for more than half an hour. For the assassin, donning the white gi and black hakama had been a matter of routine, as he had often worn these while in sword training. A formal black haori was draped over his shoulders and his flaming red hair was tightly tied in a high ponytail. He took a slow step toward the porch. This, certainly, was a situation he never thought possible.

In a few moments, he would greet the girl – no, the woman – who was his prisoner, his ward, his escort, his … lover? He shook his head. No, not yet that. There was no doubt in his hardened mind that she belonged to him, that she was his to play with. And yet, he held back – to the point of pain. He knew his sudden distance confused her. He could see it in the flashes in her blue eyes when he caught her staring at him and in the way her body flinched away from his whenever he was near. He knew his silence was the source of her consternation but he also knew no other way to force himself to resist.

Kenshin knew his flame might break her.

He looked down at his open palm, studying the rough calluses. Had he grown so soft? Why should he care if he destroyed her? He should be ready to kill her anyway. And yet…

Kenshin curled his fingers into a tight fist.

And yet, he could not bring himself to force her. Somehow, somewhere, sometime her smile, her unconditional smile, had worked its way into his mind and he would not see it falter into tears. He did not want to see her tears. For this, he cursed his employer. Giving him the girl was like giving him the power to crush her beautiful wings. And he would rather kill her swiftly than slowly.

How far had he fallen? Kenshin glanced down briefly at his outfit, his tightly fisted hand dropping to his side. Had it really been an eternity since he had practiced the art of the sword with a clear conscience? His master had always praised his skill, though brusquely. And, wanting to be of use, Kenshin had joined Katsura’s forces. His master had disowned him but he had clung to the hope that one day Kyoto would be a better place because of his small role.

Now, however, he could not see past the blood. But the girl and her naïve idealism shone like moonlight in his dark forest. Her shining smile was like a beacon of peace and he was afraid to touch her, to taint her with the blood on his hands. Through her, he had felt that ancient desire that he had thought had died within him eons ago: the desire to protect.

But he was the destroyer. Crushing the gravel under his wooden sandals, Kenshin stepped toward the porch. The door slid open as he approached, an old woman stepping out.

Kaoru gingerly spread her fingers over the rich, red silk. White and gold blossoms were embroidered along the hem, spreading diagonally over the ankle-length sleeves of the elaborate kimono.

“This will match,” the elderly woman thought aloud, lifting an intricately embroidered sash.

With surprising dexterity, the woman wrapped the long sash around Kaoru’s waist. As Kaoru held her breath, the woman hooked and knotted the fine silk sash into a perfect butterfly knot. Finally, she looped a braided cord around the sash, knotting it carefully. She stepped away, admiring her work.

“Do I look okay?” Kaoru asked timidly.

The woman’s face crinkled into an aged smile. “Beautiful,” she answered, touching Kaoru’s porcelain cheek, “You look beautiful.”

A rosy blush heated Kaoru’s cheeks and she smiled shyly. She spun around on one toe, surprised by the supple feel of the fabric. “Really?”

“Yes. Now, be ready.” The woman’s voice was distant.

Kaoru arched her neck to turn to watch the woman leave the room. The door slid open and shut. She whirled toward the wall, her heart suddenly racing.

“Is she ready yet?” The low voice was instantly recognized.

Kaoru closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. Exhaling, she listened as the attendant’s crinkled voice answered his. She drew in another controlled breath as the sound of the wooden door sliding open came to her ears. Lifting herself with feigned confidence, Kaoru let her eyelids rise slowly.

Her back was to him. His eyes traced the black knots in her piled hair, the white of her neck and the blood red silk hugging her slim form. Hesitantly, she turned her head, the milky quality of her skin sharply contrasting with the crimson kimono. She stepped around in a circle, facing him. Her eyes were searching his face shyly. Abruptly, Kenshin lowered his lids, blinking his eyes into a hooded stare. She must not see what had lingered in his amber eyes.

“Kenshin?” Her voice was soft and reluctant.

“Let’s go.” His voice was hard and emotionless.

Kaoru bowed her head slowly, her eyes clouding over. When she lifted her head again, his veiled eyes saw what he hated seeing in her – doubt. She stepped forward gracefully, stopping by his side to slip her small feet into wooden sandals. Her breath catching in her throat, she looked up at him. He spun away from her.

She must not see.

Dinner was an ordeal to say the least.

Tokugawa proved to be a lavish and generous host and the sake and feminine chatter flowed freely in the banquet hall. Politicians, military strategists and high-ranking civilians who would never have been together in any other circumstances were now drinking and laughing together. The false display of congeniality disgusted Kenshin. As did the nasal voice of the woman singing along to the koto.

Kaoru watched Kenshin’s tense back from where she knelt behind him. In contrast with Katsura’s lively countenance, Kenshin was a stone statue. Not that it came as a surprise to her. Kaoru shifted uncomfortably. Her legs were starting to cramp up. Gritting her teeth, she let her eyes wander the room. Other female escorts had begun to emerge from their positions, pouring sake and chatting with the men. The noise level of the room escalated as women tittered and men guffawed. Snorting softly from her nose, Kaoru decided that she had just about enough of the waiting thing.

Kenshin looked up sharply as a shallow sake cup was placed on the low table in front of him. Kaoru, her elaborate red kimono rustling around her, was kneeling before him and bending forward to reach for the carafe of sake.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

Kaoru let her eyes flutter upward for a moment before dropping her gaze. “Pouring you sake, sir,” she answered breezily, her tone neither sarcastic nor serious.

Bowing, she filled his cup with a grace never before demonstrated. “I hope it is to your liking, sir,” she said in a lilting, almost teasing tone.

“You-”

“My!” exclaimed the man beside him, “What a perfect escort you have there, Himura!”

Kaoru turned to flash a warm smile at the man, the carafe still balanced in her two dainty hands. Kenshin just glared.

“Your cup is empty,” Kaoru noted softly, dipping her chin.

“So it seems,” the man laughed, an intoxicated blush already obvious on his cheeks, “Will you pour me some drink, fair lady?”

Kaoru laughed softly, bowing as she filled the man’s cup. Very uncharacteristically, she fluttered her eyelashes at him as he sipped the liquor. Kenshin pressed his lips together and threw back his own sake, nearly slamming his cup down on the table.

“Mine is empty,” he announced roughly.

“So it is,” Kaoru smiled, turning back to Kenshin and reaching forward to pour his drink.

As she bowed over the table, Kenshin leaned forward quickly so that his lips were inches from her ear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed angrily.

“Just what Ikumatsu-san taught me,” Kaoru murmured, her smile unfaltering.

She sat back on her ankles, leaving Kenshin to glare at her. She tilted her head to one side, blinking at him slowly.

“Are you not enjoying the party, sir?” she asked, her voice light.

“Don’t play games with me,” Kenshin whispered crossly through his teeth.

“Ah,” Kaoru blew softly, leaning forward to brush an imaginary crumb from the table, “But it’s all a game. You said so yourself.” Dragging a finger lightly over the table as she sat back, she said loudly, “Besides, you started it.”

Kenshin fought his facial muscles as they struggled to twist into a snarl. She was toying with him where she knew he could not erupt.

“Started what?” interrupted the other man, as he drained his cup.

“Why,” Kaoru answered with a smile, “This conversation of course.”

“Of course!” the man instantly agreed, pushing his cup forward for yet another refill.

Kaoru obliged, smiling. The man smiled back widely.

“You know,” he gurgled, “You’re quite a beautiful woman.”

“Is that so, sir?” Kaoru murmured.

“Why yes!” he responded heartily, “Any man who could not see that is a fool!”

“Such harsh words,” Kaoru replied softly, turning her eyes to Kenshin’s.

“In fact,” the man continued, oblivious to Kenshin’s death stare, “If you were my escort, we wouldn’t even be in this dining room at all!”

“Oh my!” Kaoru exclaimed, “I don’t dare ask where we might be instead!”

The man grinned, slapping his hand on the table. “Let me tell you-”

“My cup,” Kenshin shot out suddenly, “Is empty.”

Kaoru turned a beaming smile to him, lifting the carafe to pour his sake. “So it is, sir,” she affirmed quietly.

“Young lady,” the boisterous man once again interjected, “Do you know why there are two cups on your tray?”

“Sir,” Kaoru laughed, turning away from Kenshin, “Surely you are mocking me.”

“Well, it seems a valid question!” the man chuckled drunkenly, “As you have one empty cup still on your tray.”

“Indeed!” Kaoru looked down, feigning shock.

“Well then,” the man instructed, “Pass me that sake and I’ll fill your cup!”

“How generous,” Kaoru began.

“She won’t be drinking.” Kenshin’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Pardon?” the man beside him asked.

“She won’t be drinking.” His voice had become quiet and dangerous.

“I think,” the man laughed, taking the carafe from Kaoru, whose face had paled slightly, “That she can decide for herself, sir! Young woman,” the man asked, “Wouldn’t you like a drink?”

“I-”

“I said,” Kenshin commanded a little more loudly, “That my woman will not drink tonight.”

The noisy conversation around them stilled for a moment before rising again. Katsura shot a warning glance in Kenshin’s direction then resumed his lively conversation elsewhere. Kaoru realized that she had been holding her breath.

“I think,” she smiled apologetically at the man, “That I would prefer not to drink anyway. It affects my stomach.” She glanced quickly at Kenshin, whose dangerous eyes were now trained on her.

“Very well then,” the man shrugged, turning away to bask for a while in his own escort’s smiles.

“And you, sir? Would you care for more?” Kaoru invited Kenshin with a wide smile.

Stony silence met her. Fighting the urge to freeze, Kaoru hastily filled his cup and watched as he slowly sipped from it.

“Well,” the relentless man barged in, “I have a proposal, Himura.”

“What would that be?” Kenshin asked quietly from between sips.

“I propose,” he paused for effect, “That we trade company for tonight.”

Kenshin nearly choked on the sake.

“What?”

“Your woman, as you put it, seems much too lively for a man of your silence,” the man explained, oblivious to the gleam in Kenshin’s eyes, “And my quiet escort might be just what you want instead.”

“I think not,” Kenshin grit out.

“And what does the pretty lady think?” the man turned to grin at Kaoru.

Kaoru held her breath, sneaking a quick glance at Kenshin’s irate expression. It was now or never. “Well,” she drawled, “Himura-san does seem rather irritated with me today. Perhaps a trade would be beneficial. What do you say, Himura-san?”

“No.” Flat, furious.

“Oh, come on now!” the man clamored.

“I would advise you to be quiet.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now gentlemen,” Kaoru interrupted smiling, “There’s no need for hostility. Let’s just give it a try?”

Kaoru glanced over at Kenshin. The bone-chilling glare he sent her was enough to make her shiver.

“See? Even your so-called woman agrees with me.”

Kenshin stood suddenly, his fingers clenched around the scabbard of his very real sword. “I will speak to you outside, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“Outside.” Kenshin stalked out of the room.

“Well, seems I need to go out for a moment. Please excuse me, my lady.” The man also stood, tramping out after Kenshin’s stiff form.

Kaoru watched them exit, her heart hammering in her ears. Had she pushed him too far? For a moment, she forgot who she was pretending to be and she scrambled wildly to her feet. Taking a deep breath, she followed in the direction they had taken.

“What is the big deal?” The man exclaimed.

“Just drop it,” Kenshin growled.

Standing on the porch, the two men were stark silhouettes against the moonlit sky.

“I still don’t see why you’re so damned worked up. She’s just a woman.”

“My woman. She is my woman.”

“Oh I see. Is that how it is? So how much do you want for her?”

Swiftly and silently, Kenshin had the man against the post with the edge of his blade against his throat.

“My god,” the man huffed, “Are you mad?”

“Yes,” Kenshin snarled.

“I just want-”

“Believe me,” Kenshin hissed, pressing his blade closer, “She’s not worth it. Understand? That girl is not worth it.”

He released him suddenly.

“Fine,” the man sputtered, “Fine, you bastard.”

Her back flattened against a wall, Kaoru listened without being able to see. Her heart sunk within her.

She’s not worth it.

Stifling a sob, she inched away and disappeared from the hall.

Kenshin rounded the same corner moments later, sheathing his sword silently. He entered the noisy banquet hall once again and made his way back to his place. As he knelt down, he noticed that Kaoru wasn’t there. Damn girl. She was probably flirting with some other men just to make him angry. His amber eyes scanned the room quickly. She wasn’t there at all.

“Katsura-san,” Kenshin interrupted whatever inane conversation he was having, “Where is Kaoru?”

Katsura turned mild eyes to Kenshin. “I don’t know. She followed you out.”

“What?”

“My dear guests!” Tokugawa’s booming voice interrupted suddenly, “Let us make our way into the gardens for a fire works show. I know you’ll enjoy it.”

Excited whispering filled the room as the many guests began to file out of the room. Katsura’s face darkened.

“Find her, Himura,” he commanded, “The best time for your mission is during the fire works. So find her now.”

Kenshin nodded, jumping up and slipping through the crowd into the darkness.

Kaoru was breathing deeply as she walked to nowhere in particular.

She’s not worth it.

How cold, how dismissing. She fought the moistness in her eyes as she followed the fireflies into a grove of trees. Stopping amid the tall grass and falling petals, she lifted her head to the sky just as the first loud explosion of fire works rocked the sky.

He found her in the grove of cherry blossom trees. She was facing away, her head tilted slightly upward as she watched the wind blow the cherry blossoms from the trees. She looked like the perfect model for a postcard; a slim woman dressed in a red kimono, standing in the light shower of pink petals.  Kenshin padded silently toward her still figure.

“So,” she spoke quietly, “You’ve found me.”

Kenshin stopped abruptly, surprised that she had even noticed his presence.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, adding an impatient tone to his voice.

“Watching the cherry blossoms fall,” she said, her voice distant, “They’re beautiful.”

“We should go back.”

“Do you know why I love cherry blossoms?” Kaoru continued, “They remind me of spring. I love spring the most.”

“Kaoru-”

“Spring is when everything is renewed. When everything gets a fresh start.” She paused for a moment, bowing her head. “I thought we had started being friends.”

Kenshin sighed soundlessly. He padded forward again, his sandals swishing through the tall grass. He stopped when he was mere inches from her back.

“What happened Kenshin?” Kaoru asked, her face downcast, “Why are you treating me so differently?”

Kenshin, so close that he was staring down at her shoulder, placed a hesitant hand on her elbow. “We really should-”

Kaoru brushed his hand from her arm. “If you are going to suggest that we go back together,” she said tersely, “Don’t bother.”

Suddenly, Kenshin cupped his calloused fingers around Kaoru’s jugular, pulling her backward. Kaoru let herself bow backward instead falling back into an embrace.

“What are you-”

“Do you know,” Kenshin whispered into her ear, “What Katsura told me that night?”

Kaoru clutched at his fingers, which had tightened firmly around her neck. His other arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her forcefully into his chest.

“You belong to me,” he hissed, letting his lips brush her ear as he spoke.

Those words. Those same words that he had spoken to her in the drizzling rain that night. Those powerful words sent a shiver up her spine.

Still holding her firmly from behind, Kenshin let his fingers splay across her throat, pulling her head backward until the nape of her neck rested on his shoulder.

“Yes,” he answered her questioning blue eyes, “Katsura told me that I could have you.”

“What-”

“Are you wondering what that means, my pet?”

Kaoru quivered, her fingers curling around his. His sudden change in demeanor was enough to throw her completely off kilter.

“It means,” he continued, his voice a mere whisper, “That I can do anything I want with you.” 

“I belong to no one,” Kaoru protested defiantly, twisting out of his arms. She turned to glare at him, now disheveled.

“But you do,” Kenshin said quietly as he took a step closer to her panting form, “You belong to me.”

“I-”

“You belonged to me long before Katsura ever said so. Now, I just have his permission to do as I like with you,” Kenshin continued, his voice low, “You became mine when you touched me, when you took my nightmares from me.”

“How did you-” Kaoru started, her voice fearful as she stepped back.

“I saw,” he broke in, “I saw you. They recorded it for me to see.”

“Dammit,” she cursed, looking down, “Damn them-”

“It’s not them you should be worried about right now,” Kenshin whispered, backing her into a tree.

Kaoru shrunk back against the trunk, her eyes darting nervously up to his. She began to tremble.

“What do you want?” she cried out, shaking.

“What I want from you right now is quite simple.” His face was close. Too close.

Kaoru ducked, covering her face with her long fingers. “What are you going to do to me?” she whispered brokenly.

Kenshin pried her fingers from her face. She dipped away from him. He took her face between his hands, lifting it up.

“Look at me.” It was a command.

Hesitantly, Kaoru blinked her eyes open, meeting his instantly. Her eyebrows shot upward as she saw what he had been hiding in his eyes.

They were not spiteful. Not angry. Not menacing.

His fingers slipped away from her cheeks but she kept searching his amber orbs. She saw gentleness there. And something else she just couldn’t name…

“Why did you cry for me those times?” Kenshin asked huskily, “Why did you take away my nightmares?”

She looked away suddenly. “I-”

“Look at me when you speak.”

Inhaling, she turned her eyes back to his face. “I wanted to help you.”

“Why?”

“You deserve peace too.”

“I do not.”

“Stop it!” Kaoru exclaimed suddenly, shaking her head wildly, “You’re not a monster! I know you’re human. I know you care. I know you deserve peace. Everyone does! Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you just…” Her voice trailed off into silence.

“Are you done?”

Kaoru sighed. Kenshin moved forward, placing one hand on either side of her head. Kaoru’s breath became ragged, her fingers shaking as she pressed them against his chest.

“Are you afraid of me?” Kenshin asked, lowering his face to hers.

“I-” Kaoru started, breaking off brokenly, “What do you want?”

“You.”

She glanced up, fear and tears glazing her eyes. “What about me?” Her voice was trembling.

“Everything.”

“What?”

“Everything, Kaoru,” Kenshin whispered, as he straightened without lifting his hands from the tree, “I want all of you.”

“You wouldn’t…” she began, her voice quivering.

“I won’t force you,” he finished for her, “I would never. Even though I know that you feel it too.”

“But, you said-”

“Don’t be mistaken. You belong to me,” he repeated, “But I want all of you, not just your body.”

Kaoru closed her eyes, relief washing over her. She inhaled. “Now then,” she began, her voice stronger and clearer.

“Now then what?”

She opened her eyes. He was still dangerously close. Her fingers curled nervously around the fabric of his gi.

“I want…” she whispered slowly.

“What do you want, Kaoru?” Kenshin asked softly, leaning forward so that his nose brushed against hers.

“I,” she faltered, “I don’t…” Kaoru found herself resting her cool fingertips against Kenshin’s cheek. She took a deep breath and fought the instinct to push him away.

Kenshin’s arms dropped to his sides. “I won’t force you,” he breathed.

Kaoru felt as if her body was suddenly very, very light. One hand still tightly fisted in his gi and the other gently pressed to his cheek, Kaoru nosed forward hesitantly. Tilting her head only slightly, Kaoru leaned in timidly and pressed her lips against his with the faintest of pressures. She broke the contact almost immediately but did not draw back.

Kenshin watched her from under his eyelids. Her eyes flickered up to his uncertainly. He gazed back at her, showing approval but not violent lust. Kaoru’s heart raced. She did not know what to do. Though she had been the object of much forced kissing and attention, she had never been the one to initiate or bestow a kiss. It was simply a skill she had never possessed.

Seeing her unease, Kenshin urged her on gently by tilting his head in the other direction and parting his lips slightly. Kaoru, taking this as encouragement, touched her lips to his again. She brushed his lips with hers softly and then brought them back to rest against his innocently.

Kenshin curled his fingers into tight fists, fighting the desire to push her back into the tree and force her mouth open with his tongue. Instead, he breathed gently and patiently into her moistly parted lips. Cautiously, Kaoru wound her arms around his neck, her breathing shallow and nervous. Stepping into him, she began to move her sweet lips against his. Agonizingly slowly, she pressed her plump mouth against his, then, capturing his lips between her own, she drew back, suckling softly.

Then, she broke away, looking up at his tightly closed eyes. “Kenshin?” she inquired shyly, “Is it wrong?”

“Kaoru,” he nearly groaned, opening amber eyes, “May I, please…”

She cocked her head to one side, running her tongue over parted lips.

“May I please,” he panted, clenching his fists until his fingernails dug into his palms, “Kiss you.”

Surprised, Kaoru blinked at him. He was asking? It was a request?

“Yes-”

The words were barely out of her mouth when his lips descended onto hers. And yet, he did not crush her lips or violently capture her mouth. Instead his lips were painfully gentle against hers. Tilting his head fully to one side, he mimicked her motion: pressing gently against her mouth, then pulling his lips back over hers. As he repeated this suckling motion, she began to reciprocate and their heads began to move back and forth slowly to the rhythm of their kissing.

Kaoru released his lips suddenly, looking up and panting for breath. By instinct, Kenshin dipped his head down and began to trail wet kisses along the side of her neck. She inhaled sharply, wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck. Unable to resist, Kenshin lightly placed his palms on her hips, pulling her forward as he continued to press feathery kisses down to her collarbone.

“Kenshin,” Kaoru whispered breathlessly.

He brought his head up and met her eyes. And then their lips met again, this time feverishly. Slowly, Kenshin eased Kaoru into leaning against the tree trunk. Several of his callused fingers cupped the underside of her chin as he deepened their kiss. He swept his tongue inside of her mouth, seeking her out. She met him and their tongues swiveled around each other hungrily, tasting and testing. Leaning heavily against the tree with one forearm, Kenshin let his other hand wander toward the open flap of her kimono. Eyes closed and body thrumming with desire, he pushed his hand into the folds until his hand met the cool silk of her leg. Reaching around, he pressed his palm to the creamy underside of her thigh and pulled her leg up, hooking her knee around his hip.

Suddenly, he stilled.

Kaoru’s lips were no longer moving with his. Opening his eyes mid-kiss, he saw that hers were already open and staring. He pulled back reluctantly, letting her leg fall back down gently. Kenshin stepped back, breaking their physical contact.

“I’m sorry,” Kaoru stuttered suddenly, blushing.

“There is no need,” Kenshin responded quietly.

“But-”

She broke off as Kenshin reached for her hand, pulling it up. With fluid grace, he pressed his moist lips to her wrist. His amber eyes flicked up.

“Later,” he said gently, “I understand.”

He let go of her wrist and she let her arm fall back to her side, doll-like.

“I never thought that you would…” she started, “That you would…”

Kenshin spun away, facing the fireworks. “Understand?” There was a tinge of bitterness to his tone.

“No, not that,” Kaoru corrected him mildly, “I never thought you would…want me…that way.”

Kenshin’s eyes opened wide as he felt Kaoru step towards him and press her hands into his back. Gently, she rested her forehead against the nape of his neck, her soft breath making his hair stand on end.

“Why?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“That I want to protect you.” Kenshin’s voice was quiet and thoughtful in a way she had never heard before. “That I don’t want anyone else to touch you. That I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“Will you?” Her question was equally quiet. “Hurt me?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I want to protect you but my only purpose is to destroy. And if Katsura wants you-”

“Will you always obey him?”

“Yes.” He looked down. “That is the path I have chosen. If I back away now, all those lives…” He paused. “All the lives I have taken would have been in vain.”

“I see.” 

He closed his eyes as she fell into silence, her forehead still pressed into the back of his neck.

“Himura-san!” a boyish voice suddenly shattered the quiet, “Himura-san, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Though Kaoru remained immobile, Kenshin’s head snapped up as someone hurtled toward them through the trees.

“Why?” His demand was like whiplash.

“Katsura-san wants to see you,” the young man huffed, slowing to a jog as he neared.

“Katsura?” An eyebrow rose, “And who might you be?”

“Me?” the man answered, stopping, “Kiyosato. I’m Akira Kiyosato.”

“Kiyosato,” the assassin growled, his hand going to the hilt of his sword as he sunk into a battle stance, “Your life is mine.”

“What?” the man exclaimed, bewildered.

Kenshin thumbed out his sword and readied himself to spring onto the shocked man. A faint tug on the back of his shirt stopped him. He looked over his shoulder at the girl.

“Kaoru,” he mouthed silently.

“Please,” she begged, “Please don’t.”

“Get back.” Battousai’s voice was cold and commanding.

Her grip only tightened on the back of his shirt as she collapsed onto him. “No, Kenshin,” she whispered.

His hand leaving his sword for only a moment, Battousai grabbed her by the collar. “I said,” he snarled, “Get back.” He flung her backward into the tree, where she sunk to her knees, eyes wide.

“Not even you can come between me and my duty,” he growled menacingly, “I am the destroyer.” He turned, his hand on his sword in his trademark battle stance. “Akira Kiyosato, prepare to die.”

“Kenshin!” she half-sobbed as he turned his back on her.

But her cry was lost in the brilliant blasts of fireworks above them.

To be continued…