Chapter 6: between assignments

I do not deserve peace

Nor happiness

Nor rest

And these I will never have. 

When Kaoru awoke, noontime sunlight was already streaming through the kitchen windows brightly. She squinted groggily and nestled deeper under the soft quilt around her shoulders. Her eyes closed sleepily. She felt warm and safe under the blanket.

Suddenly Kaoru snapped her eyes open and sat up.

The thick white quilt fell away from her shoulders and she discovered herself curled up in Kenshin’s leather armchair.

She could’ve sworn she’d fallen asleep on the floor the night before.

Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs down and let her bare feet touch the thick, shaggy carpet below. She looked around the room slowly for a sign of her redheaded captor. He was nowhere to be seen. She listened for the sound of running water. There was none.

Pushing the blanket off of her lap, she stood and padded towards the bedroom. Kaoru poked her head into the room and looked around. No one. She crept to the bathroom door and put her ear to the door. When she heard nothing, she pushed the door open with the tip of her toe. The bathroom was cold and dark.

Kaoru furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully as she made her way back to the living room. She picked up the quilt absent-mindedly and folded it neatly, placing it on an arm of the sofa. Glancing down, she noticed that Kenshin’s bloodied black coat was still lying on the table. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Feeling a rumbling in her stomach, she turned towards the kitchenette and wondered what she could rustle up. Her brows shot up in surprise when she laid eyes on the small dinette. A bowl of rice and a small plate of fried tofu were neatly arranged on the table. Kaoru sat, looked around once more and then dived into eating breakfast.

Kenshin stepped into a telephone booth and dropped some coins into the slot. He picked up the receiver and dialled a number quickly.

“Takasugi-san. I’m on the corner of Shiji-dori and Hanamikoji-dori now.”

“Good. We’re on the first floor of the Ichiriki Tea House. Ask for me.”

Battousai hung up and stepped back out onto the street. He scanned the traditional buildings quickly and then strode purposefully across the street towards an exquisite wooden structure.

Takasugi flipped his cell phone closed and placed it on the low table in front of him. He looked up at his companion.

“He’s almost here, Katsura-san.”

“Good.”

“Do you intend to tell him everything?” Takasugi asked, sipping his cup of tea thoughtfully.

“No,” Katsura answered with a shake of his head, “It would ruin everything we’ve built up till now. We have to let it ride on.”

Takasugi set his cup down softly, rubbing his thumb around the lip of the teacup.

“Is it worth the risk?” he asked, his voice serious for once.

“I think so,” Katsura affirmed, picking up his cup, “We owe him that much.” His eyes drifted upwards for a moment. “Ah,” he announced quietly, “Himura is here.”

Indeed, Kenshin had just pushed the curtain of the teahouse entrance aside and was addressing a traditionally clad waitress. The waitress bowed politely and extended an arm towards their small table in the back. Kenshin followed the woman’s arm with his eyes and spotted his two colleagues. Kenshin glided across the room and bowed slightly as he arrived at their table. He knelt silently in front of the low table.

“Ah. As fashionable as ever,” Takasugi jeered, pointing out Kenshin’s nondescript black clothes, “Black as always.”

“How are you doing?” Katsura asked Kenshin.

“Well enough I suppose,” Kenshin answered quietly.

A waitress knelt before their table briefly to deposit a steaming cup of green tea before Kenshin. He cupped one hand around it and stared down. The waitress left promptly.

“And your ongoing assignment?” Katsura enquired.

“Sir,” Kenshin requested politely, “Would you please consider moving her to a safe house?”

Katsura rested his elbows on the table and placed his fingertips together. “Why?” he asked, interested.

Kenshin pursed his lips and remained silent, looking down into his cup. “I think she should leave.”

Takasugi grinned and relaxed his position, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands. He raised an eyebrow at Katsura across the table.

“Did something happen to make you feel that way?” Katsura asked.

Kenshin looked up. “I’m your assassin,” he answered curtly, “Not your babysitter.”

Katsura raised his eyebrows. It had been a long, long time since Kenshin had ever assumed a curt tone with him. Whenever they interacted, Kenshin had always been subdued and polite. Katsura noted with interest the vehement spark that suddenly appeared in Kenshin’s eyes.

“You seem quite agitated about the subject,” Katsura noted, “Again, did anything happen that would make you so determined to change my orders for you?”

Kenshin looked away sullenly.

“Aha!” Takasugi chortled, “Something must have happened. Or you must have done something interesting, eh, Himura-kun?”

Kenshin shot him an angry look.

“I am sorry, Himura,” Katsura said, placing his hands on the table, “But Kamiya-san must stay with you.”

“Why?” Kenshin asked sharply.

“I need her with you.”

Kenshin stared at his boss incredulously.

“In fact,” he announced, “I have an assignment for you tonight that involves her.”

“How on earth would she be useful?”

“It should be obvious,” Katsura said, his tone lowering, “Imagine what could be done if memory can be extracted and erased.”

“How did you know?” Kenshin asked in surprise.

“We have been keeping notes on Kamiya-san for sometime now.”

“If you wanted to use her all along,” Kenshin questioned, “Then why did you order me to kill her?”

Katsura smiled, lowering his eyes. “We changed our minds. At the moment, she is a valuable asset to the Choshu organization.”

Kenshin’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his fine-tuned senses noticing the slight trace of hesitation that passed over Katsura’s face.

“In any case,” Katsura said, pushing himself up, “I’m sure you will be able to handle it.” He stood and turned away. “Takasugi will explain your assignment. Good day.”

Kenshin watched Katsura’s stately figure leave the teahouse. Katsura Kogoro was a born leader – tall and handsome, dignified and well spoken. His low voice radiated authority despite its softness. His eyes were stern yet calm.

Katsura Kogoro - a powerful man of in the government and in the underworld.

“Hey,” Takasugi waved his hand in front of Kenshin’s vague eyes, “Hey Himura, stop daydreaming! I don’t have all day to tell you what I want to.”

Kenshin blinked and turned to look at Takasugi. Takasugi slid a black envelope across the table. Kenshin quickly put his hand over the envelope and pulled it off the table, tucking it into his back pocket.

“Tonight,” Takasugi said, “You have a rather strange assignment.”

“How can it get any stranger?”

Takasugi leaned back again, picking his teeth absent-mindedly with a toothpick. “Believe me, Himura,” he drawled lazily, “It’s going to be really weird tonight.”

“I’ve worked for you for twelve years. What could be so special about tonight?”

“For one, I’ll be going with you,” Takasugi snorted, “And second – so will that chick.”

Kenshin’s clay teacup came down on the table with a loud thud. He stared at Takasugi’s lazy face in shock.

“What if she runs away? Or gets killed?” he exclaimed.

Takasugi chuckled at Kenshin’s violent reaction. “What do you care anyway,” he said with a huge smirk.

Kenshin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t,” he spat, “But Katsura-san does.”

“That’s why I’m coming,” Takasugi smirked.

“Then why is she coming?”

“Oh come on, Himura,” Takasugi sniggered, “You should be able to figure that one out. Do you know what happened to Genji after that little episode of hers?”

Kenshin shook his head.

“Well,” Takasugi explained, “That poor fuck couldn’t even remember coming over to your apartment. He couldn’t even remember the face of the whore he screwed in the morning.” He chewed on his toothpick for a moment. “Not like that’s out of the ordinary though.”

“And?” Kenshin prompted.

“And you are a shadow assassin, remember?” Takasugi reminded him, smirking, “And taking along a chick that can erase the memory of any witnesses might come in handy.”

“Don’t we usually just kill any witnesses?”

“Not this time around,” Takasugi answered, “This is a slightly special case. Katsura doesn’t want any unnecessary civilians killed off.”

Kenshin sighed. He knew that he would not enjoy his assignment for the night. Dread began to knot in his stomach as he prepared to ask the next question.

“It’s not a drug dealer or an arms dealer or a gang member tonight, is it?” he sighed, defeated.

“No,” came Takasugi’s simple reply.

Kenshin knew better than to ask why or who or what. He knew that whatever decision had been made – no matter how brutal – would eventually lead to a better Kyoto. He knew that sacrifices were necessary. He also knew that he had chosen to bear the burden of spilling the blood of the sacrifices.  

Takasugi stood, grunting good-naturally as he cracked his joints. “The information is in the envelope. I’ll pass by your place. The time is in the envelope.”

Kenshin looked up as Takasugi dropped a small wad of bills on the table.

“And Himura,” Takasugi added, casting him a cocky grin, “Don’t forget the girl.”

Without another word, Takasugi sauntered out of the teahouse, leaving Kenshin to his tea and his thoughts. Kenshin sipped the tea slowly, waiting a quarter of an hour before rising.

Then he too left the Ichiriki Teahouse.

Aoshi sat silently in the hospital bed, his mouth set in a hard line. His eyes were closed and his short black hair fell over his eyes. His breathing was regular and controlled.

But his insides were in turmoil.

His charge had been stolen from underneath his very nose. Worse, he had been found in a closet – Kaoru nowhere to be found.

“Aoshi.”

Aoshi did not respond, so lost was he in his thoughts.

“Aoshi!” Megumi repeated, snapping her fingers in front of his downcast face.

“Megumi-san,” Aoshi stated quietly, lifting his head to stare at the wall, “Where is she?”

Megumi sighed and sat on the chair beside the bed, turning to stare at the most interesting wall.

“We haven’t located her,” she answered softly.

“When can I leave?”

Megumi snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulders. “You’ve sustained considerable injuries. You won’t be out of that bed for another week.”

“When the mind is willing-”

“The body is weak,” Megumi finished for him, “No, you cannot force yourself. You’d be of no use anyway. She’s been taken by Battousai.”

“I know. But I will get her back.”

“I hope the stupid raccoon is alright.”

“It is likely that she is alive,” Aoshi stated quietly, “Otherwise we would have found her body already.”

“How can you be sure?” Megumi fretted.

“As far as I know, if her body has not turned up by now, they must have discovered a use for her.”

“Then she must be in hell.”

Aoshi’s perpetual frown deepened. “Her ability is one that many would exploit without realizing the effects on her body.”

“That is obvious,” Megumi agreed, her voice tinged with anger, “She is still recovering from the rat experiment.”

Aoshi’s gaze hardened as he stared down the wall.

“But what I cannot understand,” he murmured, “Is why Battousai did not finish me when I am sure it was obvious where I was hidden. And more strangely, why he did not kill Kaoru – when that was precisely what he intended to do in the first place.”

“Perhaps he found her too cute?” Megumi half-joked.

“Doubtfully,” Aoshi responded, “I have only heard rumours of the Battousai but from what I have heard, he is not one to be swayed.”

“Maybe Kaoru erased his memory?”

“Also highly unlikely,” Aoshi reasoned, “If he had been intent on killing her, she would not have had even the chance to lift her hand.”

Megumi let out a long sigh. “The boss doesn’t seem too worried for some reason,” she commented dryly, “But then, when is he ever worried?”

Aoshi turned to look at her suddenly. “That is actually quite unexpected.”

Megumi looked up in surprise.

“Kaoru was his prime concern up until her kidnapping. And she was quite a prized asset in his eyes, I believe.”

Megumi furrowed her eyebrows. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing in particular,” Aoshi said, turning back towards the wall, “Only that his reaction is very unusual.”

Megumi digested Aoshi’s comments, trying to wrap her mind around a possible explanation. Her thoughts were interrupted by his low voice.

“What are his orders for me?”

“None – except,” Megumi deepened her voice in imitation, “ ‘ to get your stupid ninja ass out of bed by the end of the week’ or something like that. Although,” Megumi huffed, “I think that is way too soon. You won’t be out of this room for another few days. And if you even think about going after Battousai before I say you can,” she warned, wagging a finger at him, “You’ll never be able to kick again.”

Aoshi acknowledged her with a curt nod. Then the two lapsed into silence again, watching the white, dreary hospital room wall.

It was nearing eight in the evening when Kenshin decided to lift himself from his armchair again. Kaoru was in the bathroom, hanging her soaking school uniform from the towel racks. And probably dripping water all over the floor too. Kenshin sighed when he recalled the events of their afternoon.

When he had slipped into his apartment, Kaoru had been waiting.

“I want to clean my clothes,” she had demanded.

Even though Kenshin had graced her with his coldest death glare, she had not backed down. Of course he knew, by her delicate hands, that she probably had never done laundry by hand in her life. His suspicion had been confirmed when he heard her sloshing her clothes around uselessly in a full tub of hot water.

Deciding that it was a battle better not fought, he had simply retired to his beloved armchair to stare at his swords and listen to her drawn out attempts to cleanse her clothes of the blood.

He could’ve helped her, he supposed, but she probably would have refused his help anyway. And he didn’t really feel like giving the teenager a lesson in house keeping.

Kenshin really felt odd.

Nevertheless, he rose from his armchair and headed for the bathroom.

“Hey,” he called, pushing open the door with one hand, “Get dressed.”

Kaoru turned from the towel rack where she had just finished hanging her skirt. “What?”

“Get dressed,” Kenshin repeated.

“But I can’t!” she exclaimed, “My clothes are still wet!”

“Then wear other clothes,” Kenshin said bluntly, turning to walk away.

“Hey!” Kaoru shouted after his retreating form, “Hey you! I don’t have any other clothes.”

After throwing a match into the fireplace, Kenshin shot her a condescending look. “Sure you do,” he said, “Takasugi-san gave you his sister’s clothes.”

Kenshin was sure he saw steam begin to rise from Kaoru’s head. She squared her shoulders and stomped off. He sighed and pulled out the black envelope.

Coming at 8:30 p.m. Directions then.
Sohma Yuki. Everyone but the civilian woman.

Kenshin stared at the paper for a moment before tossing it into the flames. On top of everything, he would have to drag that girl along. He restrained a sigh.

“Hey you!” Kaoru shouted, barging up to him, “I can’t wear these!” She pulled out a white tank top. “It’s indecent!”

Kenshin looked back at her with one eyebrow raised uncaringly. “I don’t care. Deal with it.”

Kaoru’s face screwed up into a very irritated grimace. “Why do I have to get dressed anyway?”

“Because you’re coming with me.”

“Why?” Kaoru huffed angrily, “So more of your buddies can assault me?”

“No,” Kenshin replied, glaring daggers at the girl, “Because my boss wants you to come along.”

“Oh that’s right,” Kaoru said, throwing her hands in the air and walking towards the bedroom, “You just do whatever your boss tells you too. Don’t you wish you could think for yourself?”

Kenshin practiced great restraint at that moment. Anger boiled up in his throat and he felt like slapping the girl for her insolence. But he gathered years of self-discipline up into a ball and forced himself to look away from her.

Takasugi would arrive at 8:30 p.m.

That did not leave him much time.

Kaoru slammed the door behind her and threw the pink plastic bag onto the bed. She began to pull various articles of clothing out, tossing them over her shoulder. Mentally, she cursed Takasugi for being the indecent prick he was.

Suddenly she stopped, holding up a tiny piece of chiffon cloth. It was… It was…

“A thong!?” Kaoru exclaimed indignantly, tossing it across the room angrily.

If it were meant as a joke, Kaoru definitely did not find it funny.

Snorting angrily, Kaoru finally chose the most decent outfit she could find. And to her, it wasn’t even decent. Muttering angrily to herself, Kaoru pulled on a tiny jean skirt and the tight white tank top. She rummaged through the mess of clothes on the floor and pulled out her black school loafers, which she had discarded on her first night there.

Kaoru smoothed out the wrinkles in the clothes and looked up briefly in the mirror. The white tank top hugged her chest tightly and the short demin skirt fit closely around her hips and upper thighs. She shivered slightly, wondering if she’d be cold with so little material to cover her. Pursing her lips, she combed her fingers through her hair and tied it up in a high ponytail. Steeling herself, she exited the room.

When Kaoru exited the room, Kenshin was already dressed for action. Both of his swords hung at his waist and his black cloak was draped over his lean body. As she came out, he turned to look at her, his bright red hair swishing from his high ponytail and his glittering amber eyes cold. Kaoru’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the dangerous man. She froze, staring.

Kenshin, on the other hand, turned at the sound of movement to see a very “unteenager-like” girl emerge from his room. The tight, revealing tank top and skirt she was wearing accentuated her curves and her toned body. Kenshin briefly wondered if she was involved in sports. Her hair was up and the black waves cascaded over bare shoulders. There was just too much creamy white skin showing. Kenshin fought back the urge to swallow. Instead he stared at her numbly.

Damn that Takasugi.

Thankfully a loud, sharp knock at the door interrupted their staring.

Kenshin headed for the door a moment later but not before Takasugi let himself in, throwing the door open rambunctiously.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, teasing. Then he looked Kaoru up and down. “Oh my,” he crooned playfully, “The little lady is looking quite hot tonight.”

Kaoru blushed angrily, her face screwing up angrily.

“Hey, hey!” Takasugi said, lifting his hands, “It’s a compliment, chick. A compliment.”

“You…” Kaoru stuttered, desperately looking for some devastating insult to throw at him.

“Good comeback,” Takasugi laughed dryly, taking away her chance. He sauntered around the room, “Ready to go Himura?”

“Yes,” Kenshin responded coolly.

“Good,” Takasugi said, disappearing into the bedroom, “Just let me get something in here.”

Kaoru’s hands suddenly flew to her mouth. Kenshin watched on calmly.

“Whoa!” Takasugi suddenly yelled from inside the room, “Have you guys been busy or what?”

Kenshin strode over to the room curiously while Kaoru stayed frozen in place, her hands still covering her mouth.

“You dog,” Takasugi laughed, holding up the thong that Kaoru had tossed to the floor, “Never knew you had it in you.”

Kaoru blushed more furiously than she ever had before.  

Kenshin stared dumbly at Takasugi.

Takasugi roared with laughter, spinning the little pink thong around his pinky.

Chapter 7: young sacrifice

I am overtaken by sadness

Blood, like rain, floods my mind. 

“Shut up you unbearable man,” Kaoru muttered under her breath, marching down the narrow hallway of the apartment building.

Takasugi ignored her, his boisterous laughter ringing off the walls. Kenshin remained coldly distant, walking quickly beside the taller man. Kaoru followed sulkily after them, her arms folded across her stomach. When the trio reached the elevator, Kenshin pulled his car keys from his pocket and pushed the down button. Takasugi’s glowing eyes caught Kaoru’s surprised stare.

“What?” he guffawed, “You think we let him walk all over Kyoto?”

Kaoru huffed with irritation. The metal door slid open mechanically and the two men strode into the metal box. Kenshin placed his arm over the door to prevent it from sliding closed before Kaoru could get in.

“Oh,” Takasugi exclaimed jokingly, “So now that she’s all dolled up you’re the perfect gentleman.”

Kenshin didn’t even bother to look at Takasugi. Instead, he stared expectantly at Kaoru, his eyes sending a clear, cold message. Kaoru stepped into the elevator, tossing her head arrogantly as she passed him. Kenshin let the door close and they began their descent to the basement parking lot.

“Yes,” Katsura said over the phone to an unknown person, “They will try it tonight. Takasugi knows what to do.”

“Yes, I know it’s risky,” Katsura answered an apparent objection, “But this was our plan in the first place.”

Katsura sighed. “I know this is one of our worst assignments for him. But it absolutely must be done. We can’t succeed with out it.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” he said, tapping his fingers on his desk.

As they approached a sleek, black car in the dank basement, Kenshin lifted his keys and pressed a button on the key chain. The alarm beeped twice and the locks popped open. He pulled the backdoor of the car open and held out his arm to Kaoru, ushering her into the backseat.

“What, not the trunk?” Kaoru jeered humourlessly, bending over slightly to slide into the car.

“That can be arranged for you, if you like,” Kenshin replied calmly, pushing the door shut after her.

Kaoru resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him from behind the tinted glass windows of the backseat. Takasugi, lounging over the hood of the car, laughed as Kenshin got into the driver’s seat and pulled the car door closed. Then he too climbed in.

With a deft push of a button, the locks of all the doors snapped down.

“What was that for?” Kaoru snorted loudly from the back seat.

Kenshin shot her a warning glance through the rear view mirror as he started the engine. Takasugi, on the other hand, twisted around in the leather front seat to look at her.

“Child protection locks, dear,” he said nasally. His eyes drifted down to her legs. “Oh my,” he said, dropping his voice to a deep rumble, “Did your mother never teach you how to sit properly?” He laughed, turning back around.

Kaoru blushed furiously and sat up straight in her seat, clenching her thighs together tightly. She futilely tried to pull her skirt further down her legs. Damn that Takasugi. Damn him.

“Damn pervert,” she whispered through gritted teeth, just loud enough for him to hear.

Kenshin shifted gears deftly and looked over his shoulder as he backed the car up quickly. As the wheels screeched, he let his slitted, amber eyes slide over to meet Kaoru’s. Kaoru bit her lip instinctively. The look in his dangerous eyes had been quite obvious: shut up and sit back. The black sports car raced up the ramp from the parking lot, Kenshin manipulating the steering wheel skilfully, his other hand resting lightly on the gearshift.

To Kaoru’s surprise, their drive through Kyoto’s streets did not resemble a TV car chase. Though Kenshin drove quite fast, he didn’t floor the gas pedal unexpectedly or turn corners on two wheels. She watched the buildings go by with wide eyes.

“Turn left,” Takasugi was instructing Kenshin, “Now go behind the Omiya Station.”

Kenshin manoeuvred the car easily, guiding the car through a veritable maze of narrow, dirty streets. He slowed the car to a rolling stop in a dingy alley. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he stepped out of the car. After shutting the front door, he stood in front of Kaoru’s door with his hand on the handle, waiting for Takasugi to walk around. Takasugi rounded the car in his lazy stride. Kenshin pulled the door open.

“I feel so important,” Kaoru muttered, stepping out and pointedly refusing Takasugi’s proffered hand.

Slamming the door shut, Kenshin adjusted his cloak and started to walk out of the dingy alley. “I’m not going to baby sit for you now, Takasugi-san.”

“Understood,” Takasugi responded, leering down at Kaoru, “That’s why I am here.”

Suddenly, Takasugi’s big hand was around Kaoru’s upper arm. She protested by trying to jerk away.

“Listen doll,” Takasugi joked, though his grip was like iron around her arm, “We have a job to do tonight. So there’ll be no fooling around. Got it?”

Kaoru narrowed her eyes and glared at him stonily. Takasugi smirked and tightened his grip. Without another word, he began to follow Kenshin into the darkness, pulling her along roughly by the arm.

“You don’t have to be so rough,” Kaoru complained as she was dragged forward by Takasugi’s vice-like grip.

From the opening of the alley, Battousai spun around suddenly, his cloak whipping around his knees wildly. The light of the street lamps silhouetted his lean form and his face was cast in shadow, his amber eyes gleaming eerily in the half-light.

“We don’t have time for your childish games,” his voice resonated through the darkness, “Be quiet and do as you’re told.”

Kaoru’s breath caught in her throat and suddenly she felt very, very cold. She shivered involuntarily. Takasugi began to move forward again, catching up to Battousai. The assassin stayed by the entrance to the alley, waiting until Takasugi and Kaoru were standing before him. Although Battousai was considerably shorter than Takasugi, he was just a little taller than Kaoru and despite his height, the spine-chilling aura he gave off was intimidating.

Battousai took one step toward Kaoru so that he was a mere hairsbreadth away from her. Without dropping his chin, his golden eyes looked down at her. Edging back slightly, Kaoru tried to keep eye contact without flinching. Battousai stared down at her coldly, warning her with his glittering stare not to interfere or get in the way again.

Then he turned suddenly, the edges of his black cloak hitting Kaoru’s bare legs, and Battousai left the alley. Without time to exhale, Kaoru was dragged forward by Takasugi into the dimly lit street. And almost bumped into Battousai’s back. Kaoru’s eyes widened.

“Perfect timing,” she heard Takasugi breathe softly.

On the other side of the deserted street, a mother and her strangely pale son were walking quickly between four hulking men.

“Where are you taking us?” Kaoru heard the woman ask fearfully of one of the well-armed men.

“You don’t need to know,” came the curt reply.

The mother, a simply clad woman with bunned hair, gripped her son’s shoulders tightly in response, her anxiety clearly visible.

Her son was a completely different story.

The boy was perhaps between ten or twelve years old. But for his age, he radiated a calm that didn’t even exist in elderly people nearing death. The boy was pale and his hair was lighter than that any Japanese child she had ever seen. The boy held himself straight, but his eyes were lidded with sadness.

Like a plunge into cold water, Battousai’s soft but piercing voice interrupted Kaoru’s observations.

“Sohma, Yuki?” Battousai’s voice was as cold as death.

The boy suddenly halted. His head turned to look at the strange trio. He had violet eyes.

Kaoru inhaled sharply.

“No,” she breathed softly and turned to Takasugi pleadingly, “You can’t do this. It’s just a little boy!”

Takasugi’s jaw was tight but he did not acknowledge Kaoru’s plea. Instead he stared straight ahead.

“For the love of God,” Kaoru choked.

The surprised and angry questions that ensued from the guards, as well as the mother’s whimpering, went unnoticed by both Battousai and the child. Cold amber eyes and wide violet eyes were locked together. The boy observed silently, not even a hint of emotion flickering in his large, purple eyes. And if Battousai was surprised at the identity of his target, he did not show it. Neither did he show regret, sadness or guilt.

“Tonight,” Battousai announced, crouching into an attack stance with his hand on the hilt of his sword, “I will have to take your life.”

He could have sworn that a hint of an amused smile passed over the boy’s pallid features.

“He’s ours!” one of the burly guards shouted, shattering the communion between Battousai and Sohma Yuki.

The boy, Yuki, faded into the background for the instant and Battousai assessed his opponents. Before the first guard even blinked, he was lying in a steadily growing pool of this own blood, his body convulsing as his life blood poured from the open gash in his mangled neck.

Battousai became no more than a black and red blur as he flew through the air at the next thug. The man vainly fired round after round of bullets at the rapidly approaching assassin. Battousai dodged the bullets effortlessly, his speed increasing rather than decreasing. In a fluid swing of his steel, the thug’s chest burst open and his upper body began to fall away from the rest. Even before the pieces hit the ground with a sickening splash, Battousai was gliding towards the third man.

The third man was sweating profusely and trying desperately to cock the huge automatic machine gun he was holding. Battousai readied his bloodied sword as he ran, readying it for a strike. The man finally managed to set the weapon with his pudgy fingers and he fired, sending a round of bullets at the assassin. Without missing a beat, Battousai leapt into the air over the rain of bullets. Heading downwards, he suddenly drew his blade and then blood, not bullets, rained upon the black asphalt.

Kaoru was unable to tear her eyes away from the gruesome scene. She suddenly wrenched herself from Takasugi’s grip and turned back towards the alley. She crouched in a shadowed corner and vomited her disgust, tears streaking down her horrified face.

Takasugi waited until she was done before hauling her back to her feet and dragging her back. Kaoru wriggled uselessly in his arms.

“Please,” she begged, her self-respect lost in face of the blood, “I don’t want to see anymore.”

Takasugi, his face grim, refused to answer. Instead, he held her in front of himself by her arms. Kaoru turned her face away and sagged in his grip, desperately wishing she would not hear anymore of the pain.

Battousai stood in the middle of the carnage, facing the last guard and the shuddering woman and child behind him. His eyes were dead and emotionless.

“Ah,” the fourth and final man commented, “You must be the legendary Battousai.”

“If you know who I am,” Battousai replied softly, “Then you know to give up now and make it easier on yourself.”

A mirthless chuckle erupted from the slight man on the other side of the bloodied street. “On the contrary,” the man said, flipping back the material of his trench coat to reveal the hilt of a Japanese sword, “I have been preparing for such a day as this. You should be the one to give up, Battousai.”

Battousai strode forward slowly, his arms swinging slowly at his sides and his steel blade flashing in the light of the street lamps. “You are wasting your efforts,” he stated coldly.

In response, the last man smirked and pulled his long steel sword from its sheath. “I have studied the ancient arts of the sword for this very moment,” he said, grinning devilishly, “I will be a worthy opponent.”

Battousai’s eyes glinted in the half-light. Without a sound, he rushed forward with his sword in a lunge position.

“You fool!” the other man shouted with a smile, “My technique’s strength is defending against those foolish head-on attacks.”

Battousai’s blade connected with his opponent’s with a loud clash of metal. They both pushed their blades forward, throwing each other back a step. The other man brought his sword down in a vicious overhead swing. Battousai blocked the sword easily, holding up his own blade horizontally with his hands. He swiped his sword across the other man’s blade, the metal grating harshly, and lunged forward while the man tumbled forward from momentum. Swinging around, Battousai aimed to slice the man in half. The man managed to parry at the last minute, but only barely. The two swordsmen circled each other at a run, their blades shining like silver.

Kaoru watched with wide eyes, fascinated and unable to look away. Battousai moved with extraordinary grace, swinging his sword in fluid, smooth arcs of steel. Unlike the other man, Battousai’s moves were all precise and exact, his body acting and reacting without any visible flaw. He flew through the night, his sword dancing in his grasp. Kaoru gasped silently. Battousai’s golden eyes were distant and blank, as if he were not really there at all.

He was both beautiful and terrifying.

The swords clashed again. But this time, Battousai had the man pushed up against the wall. His competitor was trying desperately to push Battousai’s sword away with his own.

“No!” the man shrieked, desperately disengaging himself from Battousai’s sword.

Turning suddenly with his sword ready for a swing, Battousai lunged at the man. He swung his sword upward and the man raised his sword in defence horizontally with a violent cry.

His cry died to a gurgling of blood as Battousai’s blade slashed through his neck and face. The man’s sword fell to the ground in two pieces, sliced in half. The man fell into the growing puddles of blood as Battousai straightened himself, flicking the blood off of his sword with a quick, controlled swing. His frighteningly cold eyes then turned to the mother and child.

“No!” Kaoru roared with angry tears, “No!” She tried to rip herself away from Takasugi’s grip violently but he was stronger. With a grunt, he twisted and pinned her arms behind her back. Twisting and kicking painfully, she continued to shout at Battousai. But her cries went unheeded.

The mother’s face was contorted in fear and she pulled the boy to his knees, covering him with her own body in an attempt to hide her son’s body within her own. Yuki’s round purple eyes still shone brightly through the cage of her arms.

“Leave the boy.”

The woman’s tears flowed freely and she refused to budge, winding her arms more tightly around her child. Standing above the pitiful pair, Battousai remembered his orders.

Everyone but the civilian woman.

His sword still dangling from one hand, he wrenched the woman up by the back of her shirt. The mother shrieked and struggled as Battousai dragged her away from the boy. He deposited her on the other side of the street. When she rose to her feet and tried to run back wildly to her son, Battousai slammed the hilt of his sword into her back. She collapsed to the asphalt in a sobbing heap, unable to rise because of the pain in her back. In the next second, Battousai was again standing over the kneeling child.

Once again, large violet eyes met narrowed amber eyes. The boy stared up at the man for a moment before bowing his head before him.

“Quickly, please,” came Yuki’s calm, high-pitched voice.

Battousai pointed the tip of his sword at the base of the boy’s skull.

The boy’s mother threw her body forward in a desperate but futile panic.

Kaoru fell to her knees, her hands over her mouth and a scream dying in her throat.

His eyes hooded, Battousai plunged the blade into Yuki’s neck, severing the spinal cord and cutting through the jugular in one swift movement. The boy’s head twisted sickeningly to the side, pinned to the ground by Battousai’s bloody sword. He pulled the sword out swiftly and the child’s head lifted slightly with the movement and collapsed again lifelessly. Sohma Yuki lay on his stomach, his limbs spread and his face tilted to the side. His wide, violet eyes were staring emptily into the darkness. Pale hair was matted to his face, streaked with some of his blood. Blood began to pool around his head like a red halo, tainting his hair and skin. The boy’s blood slowly expanded outward, creating a dark, liquid circle around the tiny body.   

Battousai flicked the blood from the sword and sheathed it quickly, emotionlessly staring down at the young sacrifice.

The mother staggered forward helplessly and then collapsed to her knees, sobbing pathetically.

Battousai spun on his heel and turned to stare at Takasugi. Looking down at Kaoru’s stony form, Takasugi voiced his orders.

“Get up,” he ordered, his lips a grim line, “And take that woman’s memory away.”

As if in shock, Kaoru remained frozen in place with her hands over her mouth. Then she lowered her hands and blinked slowly, stopping the flow of tears. Slowly, Kaoru rose to her feet.

Unexpectedly, she made as if to obey and began to walk across the street towards the weeping woman. Both Battousai and Takasugi watched, entranced, as Kaoru glided ghost-like across the street. When she stood a foot in front of the wailing mother, she dropped to her knees, ignoring the blood.

The woman looked up at her through teary eyes.

“Why did you let them take away my son?” she wailed pitifully.

Kaoru bowed her head slightly, her eyes downcast and sorrowful. Without a word, she reached out her bare arm with her index and middle fingers outstretched. The older woman shrunk back fearfully, her face muddied by tears and blood.

Battousai, standing behind the mother, watched as Kaoru extended her arm and touched the woman’s forehead with her fingertips. Then, for no apparent reason, the older woman’s body went limp abruptly and slumped forward. Kaoru caught the woman in her arms as she fell. Suddenly, Kaoru tightened her arms around the woman’s crumpled frame and tears began to course down her cheeks. She shut her eyes tightly but the tears still flowed, dripping onto the unconscious woman’s shoulder.

In his peripheral vision, Battousai saw Takasugi nod to him. He strode towards the two women.

“Let’s go,” he stated.

Kaoru’s tearful eyes opened and she lifted her blue eyes slowly to meet his. Tears continued to flow from her glassy eyes.

“Why,” she sobbed quietly up at the assassin, “Why did you take him away?”

Battousai took a step back. Seeing the mother’s expression mirrored so exactly in another’s eyes caught him off guard.  

“Why?” Kaoru continued as she wept, “Why did you do such a thing?”

Suddenly, Kaoru began to shiver violently. Her eyes shut again and her skin prickled with goose bumps. She clasped the unconscious woman tighter and continued to sob silently.

“He was so young,” Kaoru mumbled through her tears, “He never deserved any of this. It wasn’t any of his fault.”

Battousai stepped forward again and tried to pry the woman’s limp form away from Kaoru. The teenager, suddenly limp with sorrow, allowed Battousai to pull the mother away and lay her body onto the concrete. Kaoru wrapped her arms around herself, ignoring the streaks of blood on her skin and on her white shirt. She continued to shiver, the night cold wrapping its icy arms around her. Her chest was wracked with choking sobs and she hardly noticed when Battousai began to haul her to her feet by her armpits.

Battousai looked down at the sobbing teenager who was quivering from the tears and the cold. Despite the blankness of his eyes, he was truly confused by the girl’s instant change in personality.

“It’s because she took the woman’s memory.”

Battousai looked up at Takasugi, his eyes betraying nothing.

“What should I do with her?”

“Take her back to your place.”

“Why?”

“It’s not over yet, Battousai.” Takasugi shrugged with a dry smirk. “I’m off. Report tomorrow.”

Without another word, Takasugi walked away, hands in his pockets. Battousai looked down again at the trembling girl that he was holding up in front of him. He knew that he and Takasugi needed to clear the area quickly. Decision made, he prepared to lift the girl and drag her to the car.

And then she looked up.

Battousai’s eyes widened suddenly. In all of his life he had never seen such sorrow. Kaoru’s eyes were deep, blue pools of unfathomable sadness. It was uncanny how such deep sorrow could be reflected in such young eyes. Her lip trembled and more silent tears spilled over her high cheekbones. She whimpered quietly and tried to hug herself more tightly, shivering violently.

Battousai realized then that she was not only filled with another’s sorrow; she was also suffering from the sharp, cold air. He let her go and she sunk bonelessly back to the asphalt, shivering and sniffling. Quickly, he pulled his blood-soaked cloak from his back and draped it around the girl’s trembling shoulders. Then he scooped her slight form into his lean arms and carried her away from the gory alley.  

Kenshin pushed his bundled charge into the backseat of his car, secretly thanking whoever had invented tinted windows. Not bothering to strap her in, he shut the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Tires screeching, he backed out of the maze of side streets and onto the major roads. He raced towards his apartment building with controlled speed.

“He was like me!” a sudden cry came from the back seat.

Kenshin looked at the back seat through his rear view mirror. Kaoru was sitting up, still shivering and clutching his black cloak around herself. Her eyes were wide and startled.

“He was like me!” she cried again wildly.

Kenshin swore under his breath. The last thing he needed while driving through the streets of Kyoto was a lunatic teenager in the backseat of his car. Kaoru buried her face in her hands, still unable to stop the flow of tears. Her voice subsided into unintelligible whimpers as collapsed into sobs.

He was almost relieved that it appeared that she was still suffering from whatever crazy mental episode she was having. The last time she had not been able to stop screaming. This time she couldn’t stop crying.

He really didn’t know which was worse.

By the time Kenshin parked the sleek black car in its usual spot in the basement, the girl’s sobs had become slight sniffles and whimpers. And his ears had begun to ache for silence.

He pulled her from the backseat easily, her body still wilting with grief. Glad that she was not screaming her pretty head off like the last time, Kenshin carried her easily to the elevator and pushed the button with a free finger. He scanned the halls with a slightly furtive look, hoping none of his neighbours would witness the sight of him carrying a scantily clad girl wrapped in his cloak.

Finally the assassin was welcomed into the dark sanctuary of his apartment. He unceremoniously dropped the girl onto the leather sofa. Kenshin untied the swords from his waist and placed them reverently on their racks.

“Do you feel sad?”

Kenshin turned and stared at Kaoru. She had raised herself to a sitting position, his black cloak pooling around her bare shoulders. Her eyes were dull, watching him calmly. Tears were drying on her cheeks.

“Why would I?” he asked, turning around to stare at his swords.

“Because you took the life of an innocent little boy.”

“No one is innocent.”

“He was,” Kaoru said, her still eyes boring into the assassin’s back, “He was just a child.”

“And what would you know about it?” Kenshin demanded, turning his head to glare at her with narrowed eyes.

Kaoru smiled unnervingly. “I know why you were ordered to kill him.”

Kenshin arched an unbelieving eyebrow. “What the hell did you do anyway?”

Kaoru’s eyes took on a glassy, far away look. “He was like me, that boy was. He could see into people’s memories. He could erase them.”

Kenshin snorted.

Kaoru’s eyes suddenly intensified. “He was like me,” she shouted suddenly, “And you killed him.”

“I had to,” Kenshin growled angrily.

“I know,” Kaoru smiled that odd smile again, “Because you were told to.” She paused. “Do you even know why you are doing these things?”

“For a safer Kyoto,” Kenshin recited, turning back towards a dying fire, “Sacrifices must be made.”

“Even if the sacrifice is a child?”

“Yes,” Kenshin stated quietly, the dying flames reflecting in his amber eyes.

“I want to speak with your boss,” Kaoru said suddenly.

“That is not for you to decide.”

“I accomplished something for him,” Kaoru insisted quietly, “I wish to speak with him.”

“Why would I bother helping you?”

“Because I will tell you what I am if you do.”

Kenshin turned to face the girl. Her eyes lifted serenely as she sat calmly, his cloak still resting around her lap.  Kenshin strode to the sofa opposite hers and sat facing her, crossing one leg casually. He laid an arm across the back of the sofa and cocked his head to the side, his red ponytail swishing over one shoulder. He nodded.

Kaoru closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling gently. When she lifted her eyes again, they were distant – the sadness still permeating their depths.

“I can take people’s memories from them. When I do, I feel their emotions of that moment and I can see into their memories,” Kaoru began to explain, her voice low and soothing, “Their emotions and their memories are a like a jolt of electricity. It can be,” Here she smiled ruefully, “Quite painful.”

Kenshin watched her intently, carefully hiding any surprise in his amber eyes. Kaoru continued, her quiet voice breaking the silence of the apartment.

“When I take someone’s memory, I feel what they feel and I see what they have seen. Their memories remain with me, although I don’t necessarily have to pick through all of their lives. What affects me most are the emotions that they are feeling at the time I enter their mind,” Kaoru paused for a moment, her lids dropping slightly, “I can also take memory away; erase it. Just like I erased parts of Genji’s memory to make him forget what he wanted to do to me.”

Kaoru grimaced, remembering the night. Kenshin watched as the girl shut her eyes tightly, her face tightening. She breathed in deeply a few times and then opened her eyes again.

“Sometimes,” she explained softly, her blue eyes mournful, “It is difficult to keep other people’s memories away from my consciousness – especially the violent and sad ones.”

“So,” Kenshin interrupted, “Tonight you erased the woman’s memory of the assassination? And of me?”

“I took away much more than that,” Kaoru replied, rolling her eyes up as fresh tears threatened to fall from her eyes, “I took away the memory of her even having a son named Sohma Yuki. She will wake up and not even know who the light hair boy beside her is. She will have no memory of ever having a son.”

“How can you do that?” Kenshin asked, “Just take away someone’s memories without their permission?”

Kaoru met Kenshin’s eyes. “Do you ask permission when you murder someone?”

“That’s different,” Kenshin said, his tone dropping angrily, “I do that for a reason. But it’s not fair for you to take away people’s memories – maybe they wanted to keep those memories. Maybe those memories would have one day given them joy.”

An incredulous smile flashed across Kaoru’s features briefly.

“Did you know that Sohma Yuki gave a bouquet of daisies to a girl who was being abused by her father?” Kaoru asked, her tone musing.

Kenshin shook his head slightly in response.

“Did you know that he got straight As in grade 6?”

Again a slight shake of the head.

“Do you ever think about the lives you take?” Kaoru asked, her quiet tone becoming angry, “And about the people they are special to?”

“No,” Kenshin responded simply, “They are sacrifices for a better Kyoto. Contrary to what you may think, I don’t kill for the fun of it. I’ve never killed just because I felt like it.”

She looked up, tears welling up again in her blue eyes. “Then do you think it would have been better to let her keep the memories of her doomed son? With only the comfort that her loss was for a better Kyoto?”

“But no one will remember him,” Kenshin protested steadily.

“I remember him,” Kaoru announced, refusing to look away from the assassin as tears fell down her cheeks again, “I remember the day he was born. I remember the first time he used his ability – to take the memory of a girl who was crying but wouldn’t tell him why. I remember the first drawing he gave his mother. I remember the way he smiled up with innocent eyes at his mother and told her he loved her.”

Kaoru smiled slightly through her fresh tears, bowing her head and staring at her lap. “I wasn’t going to help you. I wasn’t going to do what you wanted – even if you killed me. But when I saw that woman’s face – I knew I couldn’t let her live with the grief. So I took it from her – all of it.”

Kenshin’s eyes widened as he realized the extent of her ability – and of her actions. “Why would you do that to yourself?” he asked, genuine curiosity entering his cool tone.

Kaoru looked up from her bloodied hands. Her moist blue eyes met his hard amber ones. “Atonement,” she replied with a sorrowful smile, “As atonement for not being able to stop you from taking the one most important to her, I will bear her grief for the rest of my life.”

The silence that followed her calm statement hung like a thick blanket over them both. Neither bothered to fidget. Instead, Kaoru stared at Kenshin and he stared back – she, sitting straight with her legs tucked under her and with his bloody cloak around her, and he, stretched out but taut as a wire across from her.

“And you,” Kaoru ventured to ask softly, “What will your atonement be?”

Kenshin met her calm blue gaze with his own hard, golden stare. His answer was voiced without hesitation – in a tense, tight voice.

“I will continue to live.”

---

End of chapter 7, to be continued!