Chapter 8: In a Name

The solitude of our sufferings

Is the only friend we will ever know  

Kaoru sat alone on the sofa and watched the flames die, Kenshin’s black cloak still loosely covering her. She could hear the harsh sound of running water from the bathroom. Kenshin had been showering for the past forty minutes. She could almost feel the damp steam emanating from the cracks in the bathroom door.

She stared down at the bloody crust on her fingertips. The dried brownish crust burned at her skin. She could feel it everywhere – smeared on her cheek, caked to her knees, crusted under her fingernails. She itched to scratch and rub it all away.

The feeling disgusted her and she felt like it would drive her insane.

Kaoru was still sitting upright, her legs curled underneath her and her hands folded neatly in her lap when Kenshin emerged from the washroom, clad in his, now familiar, navy bathrobe. He looked down at her as he stepped up to his leather armchair, squeezing excess water from his long red tresses.

He eased himself slowly into his chair, regarding her stone-like countenance with sharp golden eyes. Silence hung heavily around them like the warm dampness that was spreading from the steamy bathroom.

“I feel so dirty,” Kaoru whispered, staring down at her hands.

“So wash yourself,” Kenshin instructed, his voice low.

“Will that take the dirt away?”

“Water will help,” Kenshin answered.

“I don’t feel like moving,” Kaoru mused aloud, “My body disgusts me.”

“The bathroom is over there,” Kenshin hinted, not bothering to point since she wasn’t looking up anyway.

“I smell disgusting,” Kaoru commented again, as if she hadn’t heard him speak.

“Then take a shower,” Kenshin spoke as if to an errant child, “It will make you feel better.”

Kaoru looked up slowly. “Is that why you shower every time?”

“Of course,” Kenshin replied, his golden gaze unflinching, “So go take one – quickly.”

“Why don’t you wash your cloak and the sword hilts?” Kaoru questioned.

Kenshin stared at her. “There is no need to wash them.”

“But you wash your body to cleanse it,” she pointed out, “And those things reek too. So why don’t you wash them?”

“You don’t really need to know that,” he remarked coolly, “All you need to do now is clean yourself up.”

“Can’t you just give me a straight answer?” Kaoru snapped, her eyes narrowing, “It can’t hurt for you to tell me now, can it?”

Kenshin pressed his lips together, fighting down the primal urge to snap back. Instead he steeled his vocal cords and answered.

“I clean my body because it can be cleaned,” he said, his voice tight with control, “But my cloak and my swords are instruments of death – no matter what I do, they will always be dirty.”

He glared at Kaoru through golden slits. She stared back, weighing his words. Unlike the tools of his trade, he still felt that he could be cleansed. His nightly hot shower, then, was really a cleansing ritual – to rid himself of the stain of blood.

Perhaps he wasn’t just a mindless tool.

Unexpectedly, Kenshin saw an odd smile tug at the corners of her lips.

“I see,” Kaoru said quietly, rising slowly from her seat and letting his cloak fall away from her bare shoulders.

“See what?” Kenshin retorted, turning his eyes away from her lithe body.

“Your humanity,” she answered softly, the slight smile still lingering on her pale face.

Thankfully for Kenshin, she had turned and headed for the bathroom before she could have seen the widening of his eyes. He inclined his head towards her retreating figure, his amber eyes watching her through thick, wet bangs.

Odd girl. Very, very odd girl.

“The next stage in the plan, Shinsaku,” Katsura announced quietly into his cell phone, as he drove through Kyoto’s streets.

“So soon?” Takasugi asked into his cordless phone as he lounged in his apartment.

“It must be tomorrow,” Katsura replied, “Have them come to the Sakura Tea House.”

“In the Pontoncho district?” Takasugi questioned incredulously, “But that’s our seediest meeting place.”

“I know, Shinsaku.”

“It’s a damn whore house,” Takasugi continued, “She’s a seventeen year old girl. The men will go wild.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Takasugi exclaimed, “You are taking some weird measures, Kogoro. It seems like you’re setting it up so she goes insane or gets raped. I thought she was an asset, for crying out loud!”

“She is a valuable asset,” Katsura clarified calmly, “And these are the measures that must be taken for her to be of use. Trust me.”

“Trust me,” Takasugi muttered, “Trust me, the man says. Kogoro, do you have any idea of what might happen to her if she shows up at the Sakura Tea House?”

“Was I wrong before?”

“No,” Takasugi admitted, “But Battousai is one man. There will be dozens of men at the Sakura.”

“As I said,” Katsura repeated into his cell phone patiently, “Trust me Shinsaku.”

“Fine,” Takasugi gave in grudgingly, “But why should we meet anyway?”

“I need to speak with her.”

“Don’t know if she’ll want to speak to you,” Takasugi commented dryly.

“I think she will.”

“Does this, by any chance, have anything to do with the fucked up assignment you gave Himura tonight?”

“It does indeed,” Katsura affirmed.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“That was one fucked up assignment, Kogoro.”

“It was necessary,” Katsura answered with a sigh.

“Well, I want to know why.”

“Tomorrow.”

“And I know of one red headed employee who’s going to want to know why too. I bet he’s still showering because of your insane instructions.”

Another quiet sigh. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll talk. Make sure one tatami room is ready for our meeting. A quiet room, Shinsaku,” Katsura specified.

“A quiet room in the Sakura?”

“Just arrange it.”

Kenshin’s apartment was damp with steam. Kaoru had taken twice as long a shower as Kenshin and it was a miracle the paint wasn’t peeling because of the clouds of humidity that were drifting from the bathroom. Kaoru emerged into the living room, wrapped in the terry cloth bathrobe Kenshin had given her two days before. She shook out her long, damp hair.

“Feel better?” Kenshin asked, his eyes remaining closed and his head bowed.

Kaoru arched an eyebrow at the killer. He was sitting in the leather armchair, arms out, his thick, red hair falling over his lean shoulders. His lips, as always, were tight and his eyes were lightly closed.

“Yes,” Kaoru answered carefully, “Thank you.”

She watched as his expression stayed exactly the same. Tilting her head thoughtfully, she wondered how he managed to control his facial features so rigidly.

Perhaps, it was the sense of relaxation that usually accompanies a hot shower. Or maybe it was the humidity in the air. It might have been fatigue coupled with the late hour. But right at the moment, Kaoru decided to take a step forward.

“Since we’re speaking so,” she paused thoughtfully, “So civilly – can I ask you a question?”

Her blue eyes scanned his hardened features. Not a muscle twitched. She took this as his consent.

“Well,” she continued conversationally, idly twirling a strand of midnight hair around one finger, “Why don’t sleep on the bed?”

Kenshin’s head snapped up suddenly, surprise jolting him from his emotionless state. His amber eyes regarded her unbelievingly. Was she implying…? The twit. What on earth was the little girl implying?

Kaoru, who was staring up as she played with strands of her hair, didn’t notice his disbelieving look.

“I mean,” she continued lightly, “I’ve slept on your bed for half a week now. But don’t you miss it?”

He continued to gape at the teenager, open mouthed. She looked down at him, expecting to see unresponsive stoniness. Her blue eyes registered surprise as she caught his expression.

“Well, you see,” she babbled suddenly, a flush rising to her cheeks as she guessed the implication her words might have carried, “I just wondered why you always sleep out here. Don’t you want to use your bed again? I mean,” she stuttered, “I was just thinking that you’d like to use your bed again. It’s comfortable and well…Wouldn’t you like to sleep in a bed again?” She paused in her tirade and then added, “Alone of course.” Then she laughed – or pretended to anyway.

Kenshin closed his mouth as he grasped the meaning of her question fully. “Oh is that it?” he asked, icicles reforming around his words.

“Well, yeah.”

“Just go to bed,” he said coldly, bowing his head and closing his eyes again.

“Just one question,” Kaoru stated. Then she continued before he could protest, “Why don’t you sleep in your bed?”

But Kenshin’s face had already gone blank, his eyes closed as if in sleep. Kaoru sighed. She knew that he was awake. She also knew that it was now quite pointless to keep trying to get a response out of him.

“Fine,” she gave in as she turned toward the bedroom. “Good night, Mr. Kidnapper.”

Kenshin opened one eye slightly to watch her go into the dark bedroom. He watched the door close with a loud bang.

Himura Kenshin sighed. She had finally left him alone. The freakish teenager with the weird ability would not let him be. She was constantly intruding on his quiet time. She was constantly shocking him.

She was such an odd girl.

It was irritating. It was annoying. It was infuriating. It was maddening.

It was also intriguing. 

Five daggers hit five different bulls-eyes in a flash of steel.

Aoshi stood at the other end of a training hall, his arm frozen in the fling position. He straightened slowly, appraising each dagger’s mark.

“Sir,” he stated tranquilly, eyes unmoving, “What do you have to tell me?”

From the shadows of the doorway, a hulk of a man emerged with a deep chuckle.

“Sharp as your aim, aren’t you,” he laughed, “Stupid ninja.”

“I’m ready to go after Kamiya Kaoru,” Aoshi said quietly as he collected his daggers one by one.

“Not in the plan.”

Aoshi turned to stare at his boss, his icy eyes slitted. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, idiot boy,” his boss snorted, “That you will not be going after her now.”

“Why not?”

The broader man arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to ask questions like that.”

Aoshi turned away, tucking his daggers into their hiding places. “It’s just odd,” he commented, “It took a lot of work to acquire that girl. Not to mention lives.”

“So?”

“Good people died so that she could be brought to you,” Aoshi replied quietly through clenched teeth, “Not to mention that Megumi and I spent a month working undercover for that scum bag, Kanryu.”

“And what a fine piece of work that was,” the big man chuckled loudly, “Kanryu’s business partners all wanted to tear him apart for the phoney cocaine that Megumi cooked up. And you, Mr. Head Bodyguard, made it so damn easy to snatch the little girl.” 

“So,” Aoshi continued, “Why can’t I go get her?”

“You sound as if you care about the little racoon girl.”

Aoshi shrugged. “Neither Megumi nor I expected her to be as she was.”

“And that means…”

“Kanryu was a brutal bastard to her. We hurt her too, even if unwittingly – and we’re supposed to be the good guys.” Aoshi closed his eyes. “She’s just a teenager. Who knows what’s being done to her now?”

“Again,” his boss repeated, “Why does it sound like you care about the racoon chick?”

Aoshi strode back quickly to other side of the room. In a split second, a dagger embedded itself into the bulls-eye of a target.

“She should be here,” Aoshi stated, calmly preparing to fling another dagger at the target.

Kaoru rolled over under the thick down covers. She peered at a digital clock through bleary eyes.

7:15 AM.

Perfect. She smiled to herself in her half-awakened state. Kaoru rolled out of bed and stretched, cracking her joints.

It was early in the day. The birds were singing. The apartment was quiet and there was a kitchen waiting for her! She couldn’t wait to rummage through the cupboards and fridge. It would be breakfast by Kaoru, today!

Humming softly, she opened the bedroom door quietly and slipped out. She glanced over to the living room.

No red hair.

She grinned. To her, it meant that she’d have the whole place to herself. The kidnapper had already left for some mysterious meeting of some sort.

She sauntered over to the bar and hopped up onto it, flipping her legs over the counter.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kaoru froze. That voice. She looked up slowly, her legs dangling into the kitchen from the counter top. The red haired assassin was already dressed in a tight black t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his shocking red hair up in a ponytail. And he was staring at her – holding up a soup ladle.

“Um,” Kaoru began sheepishly as she slid off the counter and landed on her feet, “Just trying to cook up some breakfast.”

“Well you’re too late for that,” Kenshin replied coldly, turning back to stir the miso soup with the ladle.

“Then,” Kaoru said cheerfully, “I guess I could help set the table instead.”

Kenshin clenched his teeth as he heard the girl go round his kitchen, pulling open drawers and cupboards loudly.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked amiably as she ran around the counter with a set of plates.

She set the plates on the dinette table neatly and rushed back to the kitchen to find glasses. She pulled open an overhead cupboard and peered into its shelves, standing on her tiptoes.

“Where are your glasses?” she called.

She slammed a cupboard door closed, turning slightly towards the stove. Kenshin’s face loomed at her menacingly where the cupboard had been. Kaoru jumped in fright. She stepped back, one hand over her heart.

“Don’t DO that!” she cried, catching her breath, “You could scare the wits out of someone!”

Kenshin, standing only a few feet from her, narrowed his amber eyes. “Why are you being so nice?”

Kaoru shrugged and turned to another cupboard, renewing her search. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Kenshin pursed his lips at the girl’s back. “Because it’s strange.”

“Maybe to you,” Kaoru said, pushing plates around on a high shelf, “But it’s almost normal for me to be kidnapped and imprisoned and beaten and what not. And frankly,” she said bluntly, “These living arrangements aren’t as bad as some of the places I’ve been before. Except now I’m living with a cold blooded killer instead of some short tempered, drug dealing monster.”

“And so you’re being nice because?”

“Because it’s too much effort to be a bitch all the time,” Kaoru completed the sentence for him as she opened another cupboard.

“Such a logical train of thought,” Kenshin snorted, going to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchenette.

He opened the door quietly and pulled out two tall glasses. He walked past the tiptoeing girl and set the glasses on the table. Kaoru turned to look and she half-smiled, slamming the cupboard with a flourish.

“See,” she gloated, “That was SO much easier.”

“Listen girl, don’t be so happy about it.”

“Listen Battousai-”

“Don’t call me that,” Kenshin bit out sharply.

“Well then don’t call me ‘girl’!”

“What the hell do you want me to call you then!”

“My name would be nice!”

“Fine,” Kenshin acquiesced, “Kamiya – don’t call me that.”

“So,” Kaoru asked, her tone suddenly friendly again, “What should I call you?”

“I don’t care,” Kenshin muttered, exasperated.

“But I don’t know your name.”

“Himura.”

“Alright,” Kaoru smiled “Himura-san.”

“Don’t bother with the ‘-san’”. 

After a longer than necessary time filled with careful sidestepping and avoidance, the table was finally set. Neither had felt the need to speak. Kaoru had hummed quietly to herself and Kenshin had simply retained his stony silence. It appeared to be a normal, everyday interaction – although both felt the strangeness of the normalcy.

Eyeing each other almost warily, they both sat at the same time. They both took up their chopsticks at the same time.

“It’s good!” Kaoru piped suddenly, with a wide smile.

Kenshin looked up at her from above the rim of his bowl of soup.

“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked, curious.

He ignored her.

“Ah,” she smiled genuinely, “I guess it’s top secret!”

“Stop your games,” he ordered icily, raising his chopsticks to his mouth.

Kaoru’s smile faded slowly. “Why can’t you be normal for more than two minutes?” she asked, hurt and anger mingling in her voice.

“You’re forgetting where you are,” Kenshin told her in a soft, cold voice, “You’re not my guest or my friend. You’re just some project that my boss has in mind.”

The tips of Kaoru’s lips quivered slightly and she looked down. “Yes,” she agreed, abashed, “You’re right. I’m just a project. An experiment.”

Without another word, Kaoru began to eat quietly. Kenshin did not look up again but he could hear her trying to chew as silently as possible.

But the silence didn’t last.

“Don’t you ever want to be normal?” Kaoru asked hopefully.

“No,” came the curt reply.

“Why not?”

Silence.

“Oh yeah,” Kaoru recited bitterly, “Because sacrifices must be made for a better Kyoto – or so you say.”

Angry silence.

“It must be hard,” Kaoru began to muse out loud.

“What are you talking about?” Kenshin asked, anger creeping steadily into his voice.

“Well,” Kaoru explained good-naturedly, “You have this goal – this idea of a better Kyoto – but you get stuck with all the dirty work.”

Kenshin’s face tightened and his arm froze just as he was bringing it up to take a bite. His knuckles whitened, the chopsticks wavering in his death grip.

Kaoru stood and held up Kenshin’s glass. She began to pour him juice slowly.

“I mean,” she said thoughtfully, watching with fascination as the orange liquid sloshed into the glass, “You must have had such a hard time growing up. I imagine it must have broken your heart at first – to kill all those people. But then you had to harden yourself. I guess so anyway.” She set the pitcher down and held Kenshin’s glass out, still entrenched in thought. “I wish you hadn’t had to live through that. I feel sorry for you – life must have been cruel.”

“Don’t you dare…” Kenshin’s voice was a low hiss.

Kaoru looked down in surprise, still holding the glass. She inhaled sharply. Kenshin’s face had paled and his pupils were almost quivering in his wide, furious eyes. A nasty snarl was twisting his lips.

“Don’t you dare,” Kenshin repeated, his voice suddenly accelerating to a scream, “Don’t you dare pity me!”

He brought his fist down onto the table with incredible force, chopsticks flying from his hand and the plates jumping from the impact.

Startled and frightened, Kaoru dropped the tall glass of orange juice. The glass fell to the floor and shattered with a loud crash. The juice flew in all directions, splashing all over the floor.

Kenshin’s raging amber eyes were still glowering at her intensely. Kaoru struggled for a moment, trying to calm her ragged breathing. Trembling ever so slightly, she moved her hand.

He suddenly blinked rapidly, shocked out of his anger. Kaoru had, with her shaking hand, picked up her own glass of orange juice and placed in front of him.

Then, without a word, she went around the bar, retrieved a clean dishtowel and returned to the stunned assassin. Her eyes soft, she leaned over with the clean cloth in hand. Kaoru gently dabbed at Kenshin’s cheek where beads of pulpy orange juice had landed. She carefully wiped his cheek clean and then, sighing softly, sunk to the floor. She began to carefully pick up the shards of glass, collecting them in the towel.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Kenshin whispered, his hand going to his cheek.

Kaoru quietly continued to collect the broken pieces of the glass, depositing them in the centre of the towel. She looked up suddenly as a shadow fell over her.

Kenshin stood over her, one hand still gingerly touching the cheek that she had just wiped clean. His golden eyes were blatantly wide with confusion. He dropped to his knees.

“Why,” Kenshin’s voice was strangled, “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Himura,” Kaoru said his name soothingly, looking down again, “You’re only human.”

Kenshin’s vice-like, calloused fingers suddenly caught Kaoru’s wrist as she was reaching for a piece of broken glass.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he hissed.

Kaoru let her eyes drift closed for a moment. “I am beyond that kind of fear.”

Kenshin’s grip on her wrist tightened, almost to the point of bruising.

“I shouldn’t be pitied,” Kenshin whispered hoarsely, his face concealed by a thick curtain of red bangs, “I should never be pitied for my burden. Never.”

“Why shouldn’t I pity you for the hard life you’ve endured?” Kaoru asked earnestly, staring at his bowed head.

“Because I chose to be what I am. I chose this path.”

Slowly, Kaoru lifted her free hand and gently pushed away his red bangs, revealing his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brows.

“I can see it in your face, anyway,” Kaoru breathed softly, “I can see that there’s more to you than just a killing sword, Himura.”

“Then you don’t know me,” Kenshin snarled, opening his amber eyes to stare back at the girl with all the menace he could muster.

“Himura,” Kaoru smirked, throwing his words back at him, “Stop your games.”

For a moment, he glared at her. She stared back with her clear, blue eyes – unflinching. Kenshin snorted softly and released her wrist. He reached for a napkin and began mopping up the spilt juice.

“Don’t call me Himura either,” he said pointedly, not looking up, “It’s just Kenshin. That’s what I want to be called.”

Kaoru smiled. “Okay, Kenshin,” she replied, also bending over to search for more shards, “You may call me Kaoru.”

They finished cleaning the mess in silence and then stood slowly, stretching their knee joints. Kaoru turned towards the kitchen.

“I’ve never slept in it.”

“What’s that?” Kaoru asked, turning in surprise.

“To answer your question from last night, Kaoru,” he said, his lips forming her name appreciatively, “I have never slept in that bed before. An assassin cannot rest.”

Kaoru’s smile was sad when she looked at him. “You mean, a humane assassin cannot rest.”

She continued into the kitchen. Kenshin began to clear up the dishes.

“Do you act like this with all your captors?” he called, his tone low but not cold.

“Not all,” Kaoru smiled softly, knowing that Himura Kenshin was reminding her of her status, but at the same time, apologizing.

“Hey, Himura!” Takasugi yelled as he let himself into the apartment, “We have a meeting.”

Kenshin appeared from kitchen, wringing the suds from his hands. He had just finished washing up the supper dishes.

“What?”

“We have a meeting with Katsura in an hour,” Takasugi announced, flinging himself onto the sofa, “So let’s get a move on!”

“Should I be prepared?” Kenshin asked, stepping into the living area.

“Nah,” Takasugi dismissed it, “You won’t need your weapons. It’s just a meeting.”

Kenshin nodded.

“Takasugi-san,” Kenshin began politely, “About my ongoing assignment – she has a request.”

“It can wait. Anyway, what do you care about her requests – you two get it on or something?”

Kenshin’s eyes glinted somewhat angrily. “It’s a simple request-”

“Not now, Himura. Let me tell you what’s going on first,” Takasugi interrupted, raising a hand, “Katsura would like to meet the chick. We’ll all be meeting tonight.”

Kenshin raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Very well.”

“So now,” the man drawled, picking at his teeth with a toothpick, “What’s this request thing about?”

“Never mind.”

Takasugi shrugged and stood, stretching his long body upwards. “So where is the little chick, anyway?”

“I’m right here, you dirty old man!” Kaoru yelled from the hallway.

Takasugi turned. And the toothpick fell out of his open mouth.

Kaoru glared at him, her hands on her hips. “What the HELL are you staring at?”

“Now THAT is sexy. I just love seeing chicks in school uniforms,” Takasugi smirked, “But I think you better change.”

“Into what?” Kaoru demanded furiously, “The slut clothes you gave me?”

“Believe you me, high school girl,” Takasugi warned with a laugh, “Where we’re going – a school uniform will get you a lot more attention than the clothes I gave you. You don’t know how many fantasies are craving to be fulfilled.”

“Whatever,” Kaoru rolled her eyes, “You pervert.”

Kenshin remained silent, coolly observing. He didn’t actually know where their meeting would be yet. However, it was probably true that the tiny, pleated black school skirt and tight, white blouse that Kaoru was wearing would be seen as quite interesting. He also knew, on the other hand, that she would not bother listening to either of them. So, he remained coldly silent.

“Fine,” Takasugi said, strolling over the door, “Don’t listen to me.”

“Thank you,” Kaoru sniffed, “I won’t.”

Kenshin parked the sleek, black sports car in a seedy, little side street. He slid out of the car and held open the door for Kaoru, who stepped out lightly.

“I don’t see what you’re going on about,” Kaoru snorted at Takasugi.

Takasugi grinned and pointed at a building. Kaoru squinted and read the sign about the door as the trio neared it: Sakura Tea House.

“So?” she grunted,  “It’s just a tea house.”

Takasugi chuckled as he opened the door and pushed aside the entry curtain. “Oh it’s much more than a tea house.”

As soon as Kaoru stepped foot into the wooden building, a wave of cigarette smoke and boisterous noises hit her head on. She stopped in her tracks but a firm hand in the small of her back pushed her forward. Kaoru shook her head, coughing slightly at the smoggy, dense atmosphere.

“Welcome to the Sakura Tea House,” Takasugi ushered her in guffawing, “The most reputable tea house in town.”

“Jerk,” Kaoru muttered, still being pushed along by Kenshin.

As soon as her eyes began to adjust to the dim, hazy lighting, she began to make out figures. The crowded club was crawling with hulking men of all sorts. Crawling around these men, and sometimes on top of them, were slim, scantily clad women. Kaoru’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

She walked quickly, trailing at Takasugi’s heels and walking only a step in front of Kenshin, whose hand was hovering at her back.

“Hey Shinsaku!” a loud voice called drunkenly, “Did you bring us a new pet?”

Kaoru tensed suddenly, instantly realizing what Takasugi’s joking warnings had been about.

“Oh look at that!” another voice hooted, “Fresh meat! And tender-looking too!”

Kaoru’s blood ran cold though her hands began to sweat nervously. Suddenly a massive figure was obstructing her path. She shrunk back suddenly.

“Well what do we have here,” a familiar voice crooned menacingly, “If it isn’t my little high school girl – come to satisfy my fantasies.”

Kaoru froze in place, her eyes widening in fear.

Chapter 9: intoxication

Living as a stranger among others,

My mind traps me in a dance of distress

Kaoru practically backed up into Kenshin, her terrified blue eyes wide. The massive man loomed closer to her, reaching out a large hand to grab her arm.

“Let me go!” Kaoru cried, wincing at the bruising grip her assailant had on her upper arm.

“C’mon baby,” the dark-haired man crooned, “Just you and me. We can play school.”

Kenshin felt Kaoru tremble as she stepped back into him. Her pupils were dilating and she began to shake her head, slight tremors taking over her small body.

“Kaoru,” he breathed into her ear, low enough so that only she could hear.

The man stepped forward, his hand still wrapped around her arm. Kaoru’s breathing became harsh and erratic. Kenshin frowned, easily recognizing what ailed her, as he stared into the other man’s lustful face.

“Kaoru,” he repeated in her ear, his voice urgent.

She didn’t seem to her him. Instead she inhaled sharply – a sign that, to Kenshin, signalled the start of a very loud, very hysterical scream. He knew that something had to be done. If the teenager screamed, the whole club would flock around them. Kenshin didn’t particularly like being the centre of attention and he had the common sense to know that Katsura would not be pleased if his little experiment became a subject for gossip. And already, he could sense the eyes of more than a few men on their little scene.

“You seem a little tense, missy,” the big, black haired man smirked, “Maybe I can help you with that?”

He pressed in closer to Kaoru until she was practically sandwiched between him and Kenshin. The shorter, red-haired assassin focused his amber eyes on the other man’s face.

“Genji,” Kenshin commanded quietly, “Don’t touch her.”

Genji instinctively took a step back, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Why not? Is she yours, Battousai?”

Kenshin simply narrowed his eyes, daring the other assassin to continue.

Genji took another step back, releasing Kaoru from his grip and lifting his sweaty palms in a placating gesture. When he was an arm’s breadth away he stopped and dropped his arms. A near-naked woman immediately attached herself to his arm.

“Hey Battousai,” he chortled, plainly drunk, “Why don’t we share her for a bit? It’d be way more exciting.”

“Get out of the way, Genji,” Kenshin growled, his eyes darkening angrily.

The drunk womanizer stepped aside to appease the manslayer. Kenshin planted his hand firmly on Kaoru’s lower back and pushed her forward.

“Move, Kaoru,” he said softly, leaning forward.

Kaoru began to move, trying desperately to command her limbs through a murky haze of violent images. She shook her head as she took trembling steps, slowly clearing her mind of Genji’s horrific memories as they gradually moved through the crowd away from him.

“Battousai!” Genji called, his words slurred, “Have some fun with her, man! A little bit of pleasure wouldn’t kill you!”

Kenshin turned back slightly to shoot a dark glare at his fellow assassin.

“But it’ll get you killed, idiot!” Takasugi hooted from in front of them all, “So shut up!”

Genji only laughed drunkenly in response, the woman at his side winding her arms around him. Kenshin, his pace quicker than Kaoru’s, guided her firmly forward. The girl’s face was ashen and her eyes were staring blankly at the ground below her.

“Is the chickie okay?” Takasugi asked casually as they caught up with him.

Kenshin merely nodded, walking silently at the taller man’s side. Around them, the crowd melted away, allowing them easy passage. Though he was slimmer and shorter than most of the men present, Kenshin’s presence elicited a certain level of respect and even fear from anyone who ever laid eyes on him. He was known only as Battousai – his trademark red hair turning heads every time. Though he was often present at their organization’s meeting places, he was never rambunctious or loud. But it was his steely silence that frightened his ‘coworkers’ the most.

He was the silent manslayer. The unsmiling, unfeeling executioner. A man to be feared and revered. 

Takasugi looked down at the red head as they made their way toward a quiet back room. “By the way,” he drawled, “Since when are you two sweethearts on a first name basis?”

Kenshin’s golden pupils swivelled to the side to regard Takasugi coldly. Takasugi’s eyebrows shot up and he could practically feel the hair on his arms stand up. The man beside him was raging with a frightening battle aura.

“Uh,” he amended, facing forward, “Never mind.”

Kenshin’s eyes turned back to their goal. Knowing intuitively that the secluded room before him was intended for their meeting with Katsura, he slipped his shoes off and stepped onto the wooden platform. He pulled Kaoru up as he slid the shoji open.

“Good evening, Himura.”

Kenshin dipped his head in a polite bow, waiting for Takasugi to enter before shutting the door. Then he firmly guided a semi-dazed Kaoru towards a low table in the centre of the room. With the barest of pressures to her back, he was able to direct her into kneeling at the table. Gracefully, he took his seat adjacent to her.

“How gentlemanly of you,” Katsura remarked good-naturedly.

Kenshin said nothing and only waited, his golden eyes steadily staring into his employer’s face. Takasugi, instead of sitting at the table, leaned back against the wall and sat cross-legged. He smacked his lips thoughtfully. Katsura watched Kaoru calmly as she sat staring down at the wooden tabletop.

“I am Katsura Kogoro,” he introduced himself, “Leader of the Choshu organization.”

He waited for a sign of acknowledgement from the statue of a girl. None came.

“I command the band of men outside,” he continued, “As well as Takasugi Shinsaku and Himura Kenshin. I direct their movements and coordinate their lives. They follow my orders alone.”

Again, Katsura studied the motionless teenager for any reaction. Kneeling comfortably, her hands were tightly clenched in the folds of her black school skirt and her head was bowed, long, raven hair streaming from her high ponytail. She seemed a bit pale.

“Did anything happen to you out there?” he asked, “Are you alright?”

Kaoru’s blue eyes flicked up suddenly, her wariness evident. She openly stared at Katsura’s chiselled, handsome face. A spark of recognition lighted her eyes.

“You,” she stated, “I’ve seen you on public television. And yet you lead a band of murderers.”

Takasugi smacked his lips loudly. Kenshin stiffened. Katsura afforded her a gracious smile.

“Indeed,” he said pleasantly, “So you have recognized me. Besides being the leader of the elusive, illegal Choshu circle, I am also a government official. I serve the people of Kyoto in more ways than one.”

Kaoru tilted her head thoughtfully, arching a delicate eyebrow. “How so?”

“In government, I am able to build playgrounds, pass laws, organize public life,” Katsura explained, sweeping his arms open, “But the streets of Kyoto are dangerous and corrupt. When politics fail, the men of the Choshu group help me clean out the streets.”

“Through murder.”

“And various other methods.”

“So they steal and harass as well?”

“Sometimes,” Katsura smiled courteously, “There is no other way. To fight the evil of the underground, we must employ their methods against them – for the good of the civilians of Kyoto.”

“And for the children?” Kaoru asked, her voice sharp.

“Sacrifices are never easy to make.”

“How could you do such a thing to a child?” Kaoru demanded, eyes flaming.

“The child was an empath, like yourself. He was being used by the remnants of a drug ring to gather information and erase evidence,” Katsura said regretfully, “There was no other way to crush that organization.”

“Although I think murder is wrong,” Kaoru replied angrily, “Wouldn’t it have been morally better to just kill off the leader of the drug ring?”

“We already took him out – Himura did, that it. Kanryu has been dead for almost a week but his followers are still trying desperately to revive the group,” Katsura paused as he saw Kaoru’s lips tighten in recognition of the name.

“Kanryu,” she breathed involuntarily, a slight shudder running through her body.

“So you remember him,” Katsura observed, “I take it your acquaintance with him was not pleasant?”

“What do you know of him?” Kaoru asked through clenched teeth.

Kenshin, from hooded eyes, noted how Kaoru twisted her fingers painfully in the stiff fabric of her skirt as she spoke. A recollection of their breakfast conversation flashed through his mind.

It’s almost normal for me to be kidnapped and imprisoned and beaten.

The image of Kaoru’s stricken blue eyes returned to Kenshin as he watched Kaoru grip the folds of her skirt mercilessly. Kanryu must have been cruel.

“He was a drug dealer, a pimp and a murderer. I’m sure you know that.” Katsura said plainly, “And we could not put an end to his legacy in any other way.”

“So,” Kaoru hissed, narrowing her eyes at Katsura, “You had a little boy killed.”

“He was a sacrifice, yes,” Katsura acknowledged, his eyes regretful, “Unfortunate but necessary.”

Kaoru’s face slowly twisted from anger to sorrow, her blue eyes turning glassy with unshed tears. “Why,” she asked, her voice mournful, “Why did you take him away.”

Kenshin saw her sudden change in demeanour. He glanced over quickly and stared at her eyes for a moment. Their sorrowful depths were as they had been the night before – when she had taken the mother’s memory away. Filing the bit of information away in his mind, Kenshin turned his eyes away from her to glance at Takasugi – only to find that Takasugi was already watching him with thoughtful, amused brown eyes. As their eyes met, Takasugi gave a slight smirk. Kenshin dropped his head again.

“Why,” came Kaoru’s now plaintive voice, “Why did you do such a thing?”

“What we had accomplished in months, Sohma Yuki’s powers undid in a few days. Rivals no longer remembered their grudges, witnesses couldn’t remember evidence, and Kanryu’s group had weeded out our spies and thwarted our plans,” Katsura explained, “We could not allow it.”

“He was so young,” Kaoru grieved, “He never deserved any of this. It wasn’t any of his fault!”

Katsura watched Kaoru’s face intently, as if searching for something. “What do you mean?”

Kaoru covered her face in her hands. “He wasn’t going to help them but the men were threatening him. They were going to kill the one he loved most if he didn’t do as they said. So he had to. He didn’t want to but he had to,” she whispered through her fingers.

“How so?” Katsura prodded.

“They were going to kill me if he didn’t help them!” Kaoru cried out, looking up suddenly.

Three sets of eyebrows went up at the same time.

“You?” Katsura asked, “They were going to kill you?”

Kaoru checked herself quickly, regaining control over her voice. “I mean,” she clarified, “his mother. They were going to kill his mother.”

“And you can remember this from her memories?”

Kaoru drew her eyebrows together, as a thought dawned on her. “It was a test,” she hissed furiously.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You were testing my abilities. You used the boy and his mother to see what I could do.”

Katsura bowed his head slightly and then looked up again, remorse clouding his noble features. “No, Kamiya-san,” he said softly, “The boy had to be taken out of the picture in any case. But exploring your capabilities was a plus.”

“If that were true – wouldn’t you just kill me because I am like Yuki?”

Katsura smiled softly. “We did try.”

“And now?” Kaoru demanded.

“We feel you would be of more use to us alive than dead.”

Kaoru laughed bitterly. “People are only tools for you, aren’t they Katsura-san. I used to admire the work you did for the people. But now,” she said with a snort, “I see what you really are. You use other people to do your dirty work. People like me. Like your precious Battousai.”

Kenshin’s head whipped up to glare at Kaoru’s determined profile. “You assume too much,” he bit out scathingly, “Your naiveté is-”

Katsura raised a hand to stop whatever angry remark Kenshin was about to make. “That’s fine, Himura,” he said politely, “She is partially correct. Isn’t she?”

Kenshin made as if to protest but Katsura gestured for silence. “You were still in martial arts training when Takasugi noticed you,” Katsura recalled, “And I asked you if you would ever be able to kill with your technique. You were barely 15 years old then, I believe.”

“But I believed in you,” Kenshin said adamantly, “And I chose to be your shadow assassin.”

“Still,” Katsura insisted calmly, “You are my tool. You are the man – no, the killer – that I cannot be because of my public profile. I need you to accomplish the tasks that I cannot do myself.”

“In effect,” Takasugi drawled suddenly, “We ruined your life so that Katsura could be the people’s man – the good guy.”

“It is for a better Kyoto. The sacrifices are for a better Kyoto,” Kenshin replied.

“They are indeed,” Katsura affirmed sadly, “And your peace of mind, Himura, is one of those sacrifices.”

“That’s stupid,” Kaoru interjected suddenly, “No one should have to be a sacrifice. No one should have to die. No one should have to be unhappy.”

“Your idealism is refreshing,” Katsura replied, “But it is out of place. Reality isn’t always what we want it to be.”

“But people – even people like Battousai – are entitled to happiness and safety.”

“Do you really believe that?” Katsura asked, a slight smile forming on his lips.

“Of course!” Kaoru insisted resolutely.

Katsura held her unwavering blue eyes with his inquisitive gaze for a moment. Then he inclined his head to Takasugi.

“Shinsaku,” he requested, “Please take them into the club for awhile and then come back. I must make some phone calls. When I’m done,” he said to Kenshin, “I will send Shinsaku to call you back here.”

Kenshin bowed his head briefly and rose, guiding Kaoru up by the elbow. Takasugi dragged himself up as well and the trio stepped out of the room and back into the smoky darkness of the club.

Katsura waited until the shoji slid shut and then he pulled his cell phone from his vest pocket. He flipped it open and dialled quickly.

“It will work,” he said as someone picked up from the other side.

“Are you sure?”

“Seijuro,” Katsura assured him, “I see it in her eyes.”

“Is that right?” the other man snorted, “As if anyone could be partnered with that dumb ass. What makes you think she’ll help?”

“She will,” Katsura responded smoothly, “She won’t be able to refuse, I’m sure of it.”

“The girl is that idealist, isn’t she,” he stated more than questioned.

“Indeed.”

At that moment, the door slid open and Takasugi reappeared, taking his seat by the wall again. Katsura acknowledged him with a nod.

“Seijuro,” he said, “I have to go. Update me with news from your side when we talk again.”

The cell phone was flipped closed and slipped back into Katsura’s vest pocket.

“So,” he addressed Takasugi, folding his hands, “What are they doing?”

“They’re in the club,” Takasugi answered, fiddling with the toothpick in his mouth, “Sitting in the lounge and looking like a pair of statues.”

“Talk to me about your men.”

“The Choshu men?” Takasugi thought aloud, rolling his head back, “Doing their job mostly. Himura’s exceptionally efficient as usual. Genji’s drunk or with a whore but he gets the job done. Our dear hackers are at the computers twenty four seven. Our weapons dealers are hooking us up. The thugs are…well, they’re thugs. So basically,” he said with a bitter smirk, “Your army of shmucks and dirties is up and running.”

“I’ll assume that means that things are going as planned.”

“So,” Takasugi asked absently, “What’s this bullshit about the Kamiya girl all about? What are you planning, Kogoro?”

“The empath will be used in more ways than one. I’m sure you can see the benefits of having someone like her in our organization.”

“Sure I can,” Takasugi replied, “But why is she with Himura? She’d probably be safer somewhere else. I’m afraid he’ll snap and skewer the chick.”

“Doubtful,” Katsura answered reflectively, “She’s our atonement for ruining Himura Kenshin’s life.”

Takasugi chuckled. “I think she’s ruining his life for us.”

“It’s not very pretty now, I’m sure,” Katsura said softly, “But she’ll be the key.”

Kaoru sat on the swivel chair opposite Kenshin, every muscle tight with anxiety. Surrounding her were the lowest, most revolting specimens of civilization. She was afraid to look up for fear of being greeted by a leering, drunken man or some indecent couple’s intimate moment. So she sat, back straight and hands fisted in her lap, staring straight down at the cigarette ashes strewn across the small table in front of her.

Kenshin, on the other hand, sat with one arm draped across the back of the burgundy sofa seat and the other hand loosely holding a beer bottle on the table. His glowing amber eyes watched with faint amusement as Kaoru bit her lip in embarrassment when a passing couple bumped her chair. The amusement left his eyes, however, when his sensitive ears picked up the conversation of some nearby drinkers.

“Is she new here? Haven’t seen a girl that young in here before.”

“What a fucking hot chick!”

“Nice uniform, huh?”   

“Oh, you like it like that don’t you?”

A frown formed on Kenshin’s lips as he spotted other men gradually making their way over to the table. The stupid drunks – they were like vultures attracted to a carcass. Soon, he knew that they would be hovering over them. Kaoru, still tightly strung, sucked in her breath as she felt the warm presence of bodies behind her.

“Hi sweetheart,” a hulking mass of a man leered.

Kaoru froze.

“Want to play with me?” he continued, twirling a lock of her lock hair with his finger.

“Or with the two of us at once?” another man chuckled, tugging at the collar of her white blouse, “I could be the principal and he could be the teacher.”

“And I’ll be the upper class-man!” a compact man shouted, slapping his palm onto the table.

Kaoru jumped slightly in her seat and tried to ignore the indecent, unwanted prodding she was receiving.

“And you, my little rose,” the first man bent down to whisper into her ear, tugging on a tendril of her hair, “Are the naughty little school girl. We’ll teach you a lesson. How’s that?”

The man’s alcoholic breath on her face made Kaoru noxious – she felt humiliated, angry and frightened all at once. Her fingernails bit into her palms painfully. She wanted to jump up and scream but her fear froze her to her seat.

“How ‘bout it baby?” the small man grinned, leaning over her.

A sweaty palm slid up her thigh.

Kaoru flinched, drawing in an anguished breath.

A pair of eyes gleamed gold in the darkness.

“Get your hands off her,” came a voice as hard and cold as steel.

Jerked from their lust, the crowd of men looked up suddenly to see Battousai sitting before them. His face was in the shadows but his narrowed amber eyes glittered eerily.

Fear instantly doused their lust. The men backed up in unison, either muttering unintelligible apologies or lifted hands in surrender. When the air and the area had cleared of their stench, Kenshin dropped his unearthly eyes to Kaoru.

“Come,” he ordered, inclining his head towards the seat beside him.

Awed and frightened by the sheer power of his intense gaze, Kaoru rose without thinking and sat by Kenshin’s side on the sofa seat. Kenshin let his right arm fall around her tense shoulders casually. Then he took a long swig from his beer bottle.

“What are you doing?” Kaoru hissed at him, regaining her sense of propriety and attempting to shrug his arm off.

Kenshin eyed her as he drained his bottle and set it down loudly. Instead of releasing her, he pressed his fingers into her shoulder painfully. Then he pulled her closer to his side.

“Don’t complain,” he said calmly, beckoning the waiter with his free hand, “It’s better this way. They won’t come back now.”

The waiter was hovering over them in a flash. “Baily’s with milk for her and another beer for me,” Kenshin ordered.

The man scurried off quickly.

“Look,” Kaoru said hotly, “I don’t need your help-”

“Just shut up,” Kenshin interrupted brusquely, “I’m not doing this for you. Those men annoy me.”

The waiter, who was working at full speed, deposited a glass of milky white liquid on ice in front of Kaoru and an open beer bottle in front of Kenshin. Kenshin pushed the glass towards Kaoru and then picked up his beer with his free hand.

“Drink that,” he commanded, bringing his own drink to his lips.

Kaoru brought the glass up to her nose and sniffed it delicately. “No way,” she said scrunching her nose up, “I’m not drinking that.”

“Drink it,” Kenshin repeated, setting his bottle onto the table, “It’ll loosen you up a little.”

“Who says I want to loosen up?” Kaoru argued stubbornly.

“I do,” Kenshin replied, an angry edge entering his tone.

Kaoru grimaced at him and tilted the glass up to her lips. She sipped delicately and swirled the thick milky liquid in her mouth before swallowing. It tasted almost like chocolate and it slid down her throat smoothly. Gently she tipped the glass up again and swallowed some more of the interesting drink.

She was about to bring her glass down when Kenshin pushed the bottom of the glass up, forcing her to swallow more. She began to sputter in protest and some of the liquor ran down her chin. In a second, she realized Kenshin would not relent and she tried to chug as much of the liquid as she could before it overflowed some more.

Kenshin watched as she downed the drink, tilting her glass more and more until the last drop had been drained. Then he pulled the glass away and set it on the table with flourish. Kaoru wiped the dripping liquid away with the back of her sleeve, the alcohol burning uncomfortably in her throat.

“Good,” Kenshin commented, going back to his beer.

“Good?” Kaoru squeaked, “What was that for?”

“You’re too tense,” he answered, leaning back, “This’ll loosen up your muscles. Otherwise, you’re almost painful to sit next to.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Kaoru said, her voice coming not out exactly as she expected, “You’re…You’re-”

She let her words drift off as a strange warm feeling overtook her stomach. She took a few deep breaths and leaned a heavy head back against Kenshin’s arm.

“Not a heavy drinker, I take it?” Kenshin commented, amusement tinting his tone unusually.

“What are you talking about?” Kaoru slurred slightly, rolling her head sideways to meet his eyes.

A rare grin surfaced on Kenshin’s hardened features. “What do you think I’m talking about?”

Kaoru stared back at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. “Why I…” she faltered, “I think…” She trailed off again, staring back at him with her mouth slightly agape.

The ends of Kenshin’s mouth twitched higher as he observed her induced confusion. Her body was melting into the sofa, tense muscles loosening. Suddenly she leaned over, her shoulder overlapping his chest and her nose inches from his.

“Your eyes,” she said, her amazed, innocent blue eyes searching his, “Your eyes are beautiful.”

Kenshin was taken aback and he actually showed it by blinking rapidly several times.

Kaoru smiled lazily and let her head sink down between his shoulder and his neck. She dug her forehead into his neck and sighed.  

“But they’re scary,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Kenshin stared down at the girl’s ivory complexion, letting his eyes trace over her now peaceful features. She was breathing steadily, probably somewhere between dreaming and waking.

Kenshin caught sudden movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced up and saw Takasugi waving at him through the crowd. He knew it was time to go back to Katsura.

Of all the times for her to be drunk.

With a sigh, he wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her up with him as he stood. Her head lolled to the side, resting on his chest. Kenshin hooked his arm under her armpits and pulled her close, dragging her hobbling form with him as he walked towards the back of the club.

“Just what’re you planning?” Takasugi chuckled as Kenshin made his way slowly over.

Kenshin glared at the man, wishing he could pummel him into shutting up. Instead, he was saddled with a not-so-light, intoxicated teenager – who was now winding her slim arms around his waist.

“She’s tasty!” a man suddenly piped as Kenshin’s burden was tugged at suddenly from the side.

Kenshin turned to see Genji pulling at Kaoru’s outside arm, his face contorted with desire. “Can I have her for a bit, Battousai?”

A deep growl rumbled in Battousai’s throat as he pulled the girl forcefully back to himself.

“So damn possessive,” Genji scolded him drunkenly, “Share her, dammit.”

The crowd moved back from the pair instinctively. Even Takasugi stepped back, watching with interest.

Genji stepped forward in challenge, alcohol having marred his sense of judgement. “Let me take her off your hands for a bit,” he said, grabbing a fistful of Kaoru’s long hair.

He pulled.

Kaoru screamed.

In a blurred flash, Genji was sprawled on the floor with a few long strands of hair caught between his fingers. Kenshin was facing away, Kaoru tucked behind one of his arms.

“You,” Battousai’s deathly cold voice sounded in the silence that ensued, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Kenshin’s head turned around slowly, so that only his fierce profile could be seen. He looked down at the girl beside him and pulled his arm away gently, turning to face Genji. Kaoru dropped to her knees without his support, her hazy eyes wide with fear.

Battousai, his eyes cold and his lips set in a hard line, took agonizingly slow steps towards Genji, who was just struggling to his feet. Just as he lifted himself from the floor, Battousai slapped him. Genji stood, raising a hand to touch his smarting cheek. Incoherent rage was written all over his face.

“What the-”

Before Genji could even swear, he was back on the floor.

“Get angry,” Battousai hissed, advancing, “Go mad with rage. It will be like hunting a wild pig for me.”

Just as an animal would, Genji lunged and swung wildly at Kenshin’s head. But Battousai had ducked almost prematurely, and was behind the bigger man in an instant. His forearm made contact with the back of Genji’s neck and Genji crumpled to the floor.

“Get up,” Battousai commanded, his voice void of emotion but his golden eyes glowing with rage.

He delivered a swift kick to Genji’s side, the latter not even able to roll away in time.

“Get up!” he shouted, grabbing the other’s hair and pulling him up.

“Himura!” Katsura bellowed from the back of the club. He stood outside of the room, silhouetted by the light.

Kenshin dropped Genji’s head instantly. Completely ignoring the other man’s grunts of pain, Kenshin stepped over him towards Kaoru.

Katsura watched in amazement. As illogical as it may seem, his shadow assassin had not once before been involved in a brawl with his fellow men.

Kaoru, still mildly intoxicated, reached up her arms to Kenshin as a child would. Kenshin bent over and hoisted her up, wrapping an arm possessively around her waist. He turned to face Katsura and waited for instructions.

Katsura surveyed the scene with great surprise. The fight had been over the girl? He let his eyes slide over quickly to meet Takasugi’s gaze. A quick nod of the head confirmed his suspicions. He looked back to Kenshin.

“Just take her home, Himura,” he instructed, his voice baffled, “I’ll call to speak with her tomorrow.”

Kenshin nodded, silently sweeping Kaoru into his arms. He turned and left the Sakura Tea House, the crowd parting before him.

Katsura stared after him, completely taken aback. At a loss for words, he turned and entered the secluded room, beckoning for Takasugi.

Yet another time, Kenshin found himself kicking his apartment door open with this girl resting limply in his arms. He carried her toward the bedroom with the full intention of dropping her on the bed and then getting a good night’s sleep for himself.

But Kaoru decided to wake up. She began to twist violently in his arms. To avoid being kicked, he dropped her. But instead of letting go, Kaoru slid to the floor with her arms wrapped around his knees. The assassin shifted, suddenly tremendously uncomfortable.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking up with bright, innocent blue eyes.

“My place,” Kenshin responded, staring down at her.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Her delicate brow furrowed at him, confused again. She cocked her head to the side and regarded him blissfully. Kenshin stared back. Her gaze was almost childlike but it incited so many dormant sensations in his body. Her eyes. They were beautiful.

“Help me get up?”

Kaoru looked up at Kenshin with a wide, sincere smile. Kenshin reached down and hefted her up from the floor. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned her head over his shoulder.

“I’m tired,” she complained, still smiling.

“Of course you are,” he muttered, trying to pull her away from his body by the waist.

“Are you tired?” she asked stepping away from him but leaving her wrists locked around his neck.

“Yes, I am,” he said absently, pulling her arms from his shoulders by her wrists.

“Then,” Kaoru grinned mischievously with a twinkle in her blue eyes, “Come to bed!”

She suddenly gripped Kenshin’s wrists and pulled him into the bedroom clumsily.

The door swung shut behind them.

To be continued…