A/N
: Well here we are my glorious readers. I have been collaborating on this story with Jesse the Wolf Demon and I think it's a very good one! For all you Aoshi/Misao lovers, be prepared for a lot of action and drama. They don't actually meet for another few chapters though. I anticipate this fic to be pretty long too, just so you know. I hope you all enjoy it!Disclaimer:
I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or the song Safer on the Outside by the most excellent band called American Hi-Fi.Safer On The Outside
Chapter 1: "I'm No Good"
Himura Towers--
A man sat at a desk inside of a dark office. The windows were large, but blinds were drawn against the light. All the brightness in the room was illuminated from a small desk lamp, giving him just enough light to see by as he shifted through his papers. The computer screen beside him flashed screensavers of peaceful landscapes, and the red button on his phone blinked in a continual rhythm.
The man at the desk was dressed in a finely tailor business suit. His head of flaming red hair was elegantly tied back at the nape of his neck, not a strand out of place. Violet eyes skimmed over the papers on his desk, document after document, photograph after photograph, file after file. With a disgusted sigh, he tossed the last file on his desk into the ever-growing pile of rejects. So far, there had not been one person qualified enough.
Frustrated, he hit the speaker button on the phone. "Kaoru, are there any files left?" His voice was troubled, and tinged with disappointment.
A lilting female voice answered him from her desk in front of the office. "There's one more, sir."
There was a sound from outside, and then the large oak doors opened and admitted the woman into the office. She was a tall woman, dressed in a smart business suit and high heels. Her black hair was braided in a simple plait down her back to her waist. A pair of small reading glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, calling attention to her large cerulean eyes. In her manicured hands was a file with a few photographs attached to the folder.
The man at the desk leaned back, his arms raised over his head high enough to crack his back, then lounged back in the seat. He crossed his hands behind his head with a polite smile on his face. "I've been reading all day. My eyes are starting to hurt. Would you mind updating me on this one?"
Kaoru smiled prettily and handed over a photograph. The first one was of a woman in her early twenties. "Misao Makimachi," Kaoru said, reading from the file. "Date of birth unknown, but near the age of twenty-four."
She handed over the next photo. This one was of a building with large windows and a home painted sign hanging in front. It looked like some kind of studio with a second-floor house above it. "Current occupation is an instructor at the Makimachi School of Dance."
Her boss quirked an eyebrow. "A dance teacher?"
The secretary adjusted her spectacles. "Don't judge a thief by her cover, Mr. Himura," she teased. "Thanks to the efforts by our fabulous researcher, we discovered that this woman is actually the infamous 'Phantom Rogue'."
"The Phantom Rogue?" Himura said, sitting up reflexively in his chair. "I always thought he would be a man."
Kaoru smiled knowingly. "Most men would. But if you remember, sir, the last theft made by the Phantom Rogue left evidence suggesting that she was female. And now we have discovered that she is."
"Her last theft was two years ago, correct?"
Kaoru nodded. "That's right, sir. Misao Makimachi was truly the 'Phantom Rogue', the greatest thief of this age, until her sudden disappearance."
Himura's violet eyes twinkled with open enthusiasm and triumph. "Kaoru, I do believe we've found our girl. We'll just have to extend an offer to Miss Makimachi that she can't refuse." They shared a smile with a hidden meaning, a secret joke between them. "Will you go personally?"
"Of course, Mr. Himura." She bowed her head, resting the file on his desk. "Shall I set up a meeting tomorrow, around lunch?"
"That would be perfect. You are the perfect secretary, Kaoru. Who hired you?"
Kaoru smiled. "You did, sir," she said as she left the room. Himura watched her go with a half smile of true appreciation, then he went back to the file on his desk. Sifting through papers, he came upon the photo of Misao Makimachi.
"So this is the face of the Phantom Rogue..."
Makimachi School of Dance--
"Good, Rebecca. Remember, keep your arms relaxed and your weight on your legs."
Misao Makimachi walked among the eight girls who stood at the practice bars in her studio. These were teenagers, the advanced ballet class. Misao was particularly proud of this class, and enjoyed her instruction of them more than the other.
Misao was of an average height, around five feet four inches, with a trim and lithe figure. Her black leotard hugged a figure of little curve, but defined elegance and grace. Her hip-long black hair was held up in a loose bun, a few strands falling around to frame her oval face and contrasting her fair complexion. Ocean blue eyes surveyed the teenagers under her tutelage.
Misao strolled among the girls, hands linked behind her back as she watched them move in sync with the Waltz of the Flowers playing from the stereo in the back of the room.
"Chin up, Lee," she paused to comment on one girl. "Don't look at your feet--"
"Feel them. Yes, Miss Makimachi," the girl smiled.
Misao smiled back and moved to the next girl. The session was ending and Misao made her way over to the stereo, turning the music off and then facing her students. She clapped her hands and smiled at them. "You're all making wonderful progress. Each of you has such grace and potential, I'm sure that with a few more instructional lessons, all of you will be ready to join the New York Ballet Company."
All eight girls laughed, blushing prettily at the praise and then taking their bags into the main room where their rides home were waiting. Misao waved them off, grinning, and exchanged some friendly words with the parents. She avoided physical contact, but the older students and their families knew enough to avoid it.
Once the girls were all gone, Misao went back into the studio. She turned on a radio station, letting the calm music of Evanescence's My Immortal flowed through the air of the room around her. Misao stretched out her legs, performing a few routine moves. Dance, although it was what put food on the table, would always be her second love. Her first would always be martial arts.
Misao was a beautiful dancer that was once offered a scholarship to Julliard in New York, the most prestigious dance school in the United States. She turned it down, however. It interfered with her other commitments, she said. In truth, Misao didn't want to give up her other profession.
It was hard to believe that polite, bookish Misao Makimachi was, in fact, the one whom the media deemed un-catch-able, the thief known as the Phantom Rogue. She just didn't have the air about her that would suggest that she did anything illegal in her life. Fact was, Misao had been a thief as long as she could remember.
She had been orphaned long before she could care for herself, growing up in one abusive foster home after another. She ran away the first chance she got, and ended up on the streets for much of her childhood. When they caught her, they simply took her back. Misao had no rights, and was often deemed as the troublesome type. There was always one foster parent or another who thought they could beat the impulse from her--or be so smothering kind that she would magically stop running from them.
Her life changed at ten, when the social services people finally found a living relative: her mother's great uncle. His name was Okina, a kind but perverted old man who owned a restaurant in a New York. Misao had loved Okina to the best of her ability, which often took some work. Somewhere along the line, the two of them became a family. That was what killed Misao when Okina was murdered.
This time, at sixteen, she was left broken-hearted and alone in the streets. Misao had fought for her life, homeless and alone, for months. Her steps faltered as she thought back to her winter of sixteen years, and Misao stumbled. She gripped one of the bars to keep her balance.
"Careful Misao," a soft voice said from behind her. "You don't want to hurt yourself."
Misao was bolt upright at the sound. Her ocean eyes met a pair of pale green orbs staring back at her, the eyes of a person whom had seen thirty years of life. The eyes were set into a face of an unhealthily pale complexion framed by light brown hair. It was a feminine face, sharp angled and pretty. In fact, one could easily mistake the speaker as being a woman if not for the uncharacteristically flat chest and addition of an extra body part. He was tall, an inch below six feet, but he walked hunched over because of the pain in his chest.
"Kamatari!" Misao exclaimed hurrying over to the man in the doorway. Kamatari was dressed simply in flannel pajamas and leaned against the doorframe of the room. Misao was at his side in a moment, pressing a cool palm to the side of his face. "Are you sure you should be up? You're looking so pale."
Kamatari smiled and took her hand in his own, pressing a gossamer kiss to her palm. "I feel fine Misao, truly."
"I don't like you walking around with no one around," she chided gently. "What happens if you fell?"
"I would have caught him," chirped a voice nearby. Misao looked over Kamatari's shoulder to see a smaller young man walking past them, his arms loaded up with computer equipment and a headset over his ears. "He asked to come downstairs, so I came with him. You worry too much, Sis."
"Oh, go tinker with something Soujiro," Misao laughed with a smile. The other man merely stuck his tongue out and walked past them both.
Soujiro was small, five-foot-six, but there was strength in his small size. His hair was unkempt and ruddy brown--he never did like to take care of his appearance. He watched them with gray eyes that could turn brown depending on his mood. Soujiro moved with as much grace as Misao, perhaps even more so, though he was not a dancer. Soujiro, at the age of twenty-five, was the closest person to Misao's age that she had ever known.
"If you need anything, I'll be in the lab," he called to them and disappeared into the basement of the house.
Kamatari shook his head slowly, a smile spreading across his wan face. "He gets out less than I do," he commented wryly.
Misao took Kamatari by the elbow and led him from the studio toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was located. "Would you like me to make you anything?" she asked him. "Soup, tea, anything you'd like to eat?"
"I'm fine Misao, really," he assured her. Worried ocean eyes turned up to him and Kamatari smiled reassuringly.
"Humor me," she said.
"If I must."
"You do," she smiled. When they entered the kitchen, Misao deposited Kamatari on a seat at the table and then busied herself putting on a kettle of water and taking down two mugs. She fished around the cabinets until she came upon a box of cup o' noodles--chicken flavored. She prepared it and handed Kamatari a steaming mug. "Careful, it's hot," she warned.
"You're treating me like a child again Misao," Kamatari said with a smile.
"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I just don't want you pushing yourself. You're so pale today Kamatari."
The man sitting across from her with the wane face stared into her eyes for a long moment. Without noticing he was even moving, Misao suddenly found his hands on the side of her face, drawing her in. Their faces were only a hair's breath apart, and Misao felt that primitive jolt of fear in her very bones, but she ignored it. This was Kamatari, not some brainless man. He would never hurt her. She would not flinch.
"I'm not going anywhere, Misao," Kamatari whispered. "I swear to you."
"I know," Misao breathed, closing her eyes. She soaked in the feel of Kamatari's presence. She knew she didn't have to be afraid. This man and his brother… they were her life. They were her family, and they had taken her in when no one else wanted her. When no one else cared. They gave her a life, a home, and love. They adopted her as their sister and raised her with their love.
"I have to admit, though, I love you fussing over me," he said with a lazy smile. "You're such an attentive nurse, my little bird." That was Kamatari's nickname for Misao. When he had first found her, she was scared and flighty, ready to take off at any sudden move. Kamatari always thought she looked like a little bird, ready to fly at the first opportunity.
Misao smiled that smile she only gave to Kamatari and Soujiro. They were the only people in the world she still had love for, so all of her affection and all of her heart poured over into them. Kamatari took his hands away, sipping idly at his mug, then he reached up and stroked Misao's cheek with the back of his hand.
"What would you have me do, Kamatari?" She asked, her ocean eyes filling with unshed tears.
Kamatari smiled again, and his face looked healthy for a moment. "I would have you smile again. I would have you laugh and dance around the house, like that beautiful ray of light that you always have been."
"Kamatari--" He silenced her with a thumb across her lips.
"I would have you and Soujiro bicker all day like two old women."
"Soujiro and I do bicker like two old women," she interrupted with a small grin. Kamatari added one of his own.
"There you go, little bird. I just want you to be as happy as you were before I got sick."
"But I am happy," Misao insisted. "I'm just worried."
"I don't want you to worry," Kamatari insisted. "I want you to go out, to have fun like any other woman your age. Find a man!"
"Kamatari," Misao sighed. "You know I don't want a man."
"Then you can at least find me one," he joked with a smile. Misao laughed and pressed her forehead against his.
"You're a shameless flirt."
"Don't I know it."
They were interrupted when the bell in the studio office went off. Misao whirled around, getting to her feet. "One of the girls probably forgot something," she said as she left. "I'll be right back."
"Take your time Misao," Kamatari waved at her.
Misao was surprised when she reached her front desk to find not one of her girls, but a woman in a business suit. In her hands, there was a black leather briefcase, and she wore a pair of glasses over her blue eyes. She hadn't yet noticed Misao's entrance, but was looking around the office like she was assessing something.
"Can I help you?" Misao asked.
The woman, startled out of her evaluation, snapped her bright eyes to meet Misao. A small smile graced her lips. "Misao Makimachi?"
"Yes?" Misao said, suddenly a little suspicious. It was rare for someone to ask for her by name.
"My name is Kaoru Kamiya," she said politely, reached out her hand to shake with Misao. Misao looked at it a moment.
"You'll have to forgive me," she explained. "My hands are filthy, I was making dinner."
"Of course," Kaoru said, taking her hand back without production. "I work at Himura Towers--"
"The publishing conglomerate?" Misao interrupted. Now she was interested, leaning forward slightly across her desk. Kaoru smiled wider.
"I'm glad you've heard of us." She fiddled with the handle of her briefcase. "Himura Towers is one of the largest publishing companies in the world. We manufacture everything from line-paper notebooks to manga to cookbooks and back again."
A corner of Misao's mouth quirked. "It must be great working around so many books."
"It has its moments," Kaoru agreed with a nod. "I, myself, am the personal secretary to the CEO of the company. It is on his behalf that I have come to make you an offer for your services."
Misao looked confused, her brow furrowed. "Your CEO wants me to teach him how to dance?"
Kaoru smirked, then giggled, then all out laughed at the thought. "No, no," she said after she regained control of herself. As it was, the image of her business-y boss in a pink tutu would haunt her for days. It was well worth it. "We want to employ your other services."
"What other services?" Misao asked, but she already felt the call in the pit of her stomach. The call of the Phantom Rogue.
Kaoru smiled. "Misao Makimachi," she leaned closer to whisper the rest, "otherwise known as the infamous Phantom Rogue, I am here to make you an offer."
Misao's eyes widen and she backed up a fraction. She was saved from reply by a voice behind her.
"Misao?" It was Kamatari, who'd come from the kitchen at the sound of the voices. The girl turned to look at her brother with concealed eyes. "Is everything ok?"
"Yes, everything's fine, Kamatari," she assured him. "But you should be sitting down."
"Yes Mother," he grumbled. Then she looked past Misao to Kaoru. "Would you care to join us?"
"Oh, that would be lovely," Kaoru said, coming around the side of the desk and following after Misao and Kamatari into the kitchen. Misao eyed Kaoru from the corner of her eye, praying that the woman wouldn't mention any Phantom Rogue nonsense around her brother. That was when she became rather fearful. Was this some kind of a trap? Would they use her to steal things under pain of revealing her true identity?
After they were seated, Misao fetched a third cup and tea was served. There was silence for a minute, until Kamatari initiated conversation. "I'm sorry for the lack of introduction. I'm Kamatari Seta."
"Kaoru Kamiya," she said with a smile, shaking his offered hand.
"We have another brother around here somewhere," Kamatari commented. "But I doubt Soujiro will come out of his hole for tea."
"It's quite all right," Kaoru said with a smile. "My real business is with your sister." Misao sat rigidly in her chair, full of stress and anxiety. "I'm not here to blackmail you into anything," Kaoru said as if reading Misao's thoughts. "This is a legitimate business arrangement."
"What do you want?" Misao asked.
"I am simply here to arrange a meeting between you and my employer. Once there, he will answer any and all of your questions."
"Just who is your employer?" Kamatari asked. He was not ignorant to what was going on. Misao had, in the past two years, been offered jobs of theft. They always went through to Soujiro since, everyone believed that Phantom Rouge was a man. Now this smartly dressed woman came and offered Misao--the true Rogue--and offer of business. Things were about to get interesting.
"Mister Kenshin Himura." She smiled, totally unfazed when the jaws of both Kamatari and Misao dropped in astonishment.
"The Kenshin Himura?" Kamatari asked.
"The billionaire?" Misao added.
"Yes," Kaoru said calmly, but not without a certain air of mystery. "Mr. Himura really would love to meet with you, Miss Makimachi. I was told to arrange a meeting, tomorrow at noon, at Himura Towers." She opened her briefcase and dug out a business card, handing it over to Misao. "Come to this address at twelve o'clock. Give it to the guard at the front desk and he'll let you in."
"What do you want with me?" Misao asked, narrowing her ocean eyes at Kaoru and then the business card.
"Like I said, Miss Makimachi, this is a business offer. Mr. Himura will brief you on everything tomorrow at noon. If you turn us down, you are free to go. If you'd like to take us up, you'd be well compensated."
"Can I bring my team?" Misao asked. A question that was posed with any business meeting of the Phantom Rogue's.
"Of course," Kaoru said with a smile. She got to her feet, finishing her tea, and then said her goodbyes. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Seta, Miss Makimachi. I hope to see you tomorrow. Remember, at noon."
Misao walked her out, and when she came back, she nervously began cleaning up. Kamatari watched her with pale eyes. "You know, she realized I was a man," he commented.
Misao turned and smirked. "She knew who I was, I doubt it was hard to look up your file, dearest one." They shared a smile that was interrupted when Soujiro walked in. He was covered in grease and there were goggles over his eyes. He was also absent of a shirt as he reached into the fridge, pulled out the carton of milk, and began to drain it right there.
"Soujiro!" they both yelled. He jumped, spilling some of the milk on himself.
"What?!" he yelled back, annoyed.
"That's disgusting," Misao scolded, grabbing the milk from him. There was barely any left so she just shoved the carton at him again. "Go ahead and finish it. I'll have to run out and get more later."
Soujiro shrugged and finished it up, tossing it into the garbage can like a professional basketball player. "Two points," he cheered, then turned to the others. "What did I miss? You both look tense."
"Misao was offered a business arrangement," Kamatari commented.
"A Rogue assignment?" he asked, taking the goggled from his silver-gray eyes.
"Yeah," Misao said sourly. "She knew who I was."
"Is that a good thing?" he asked, sitting in a free chair. "Or a bad thing?"
"I don't know," Misao said while shaking her head. "She wants us to meet with her boss tomorrow for a briefing of the situation and the offer. Get this, it's Kenshin Himura."
Soujiro's eyes widen considerably. "You're shitting me?"
"No, little brother," Kamatari said with a tired sigh. "This is the real deal."
"But he's like…one of the richest guys on the planet! Bill Gates is a crack whore compared to this guy! Can't he just buy whatever he wants? Why hire a thief?"
"I guess whatever he wants is beyond money," Misao commented thoughtfully.
Soujiro looked from Misao to Kamatari and back. "So then we're taking it, right? He's a billionaire for Christ sake! He could pay us…anything we want!"
"Don't get too excited," Kamatari told him. "We still don't know what he wants us to steal. For all we know, this could be a test of some kind. Or a trick."
Misao shook her head while leaning over the sink. "If he pays enough, I'll do whatever he wants," she said in a deadpan voice.
"Misao," Kamatari--ever the older sibling--scolded her. "If it endangers your life beyond reasonable doubt, I won't let you anywhere near it."
Soujiro nodded his agreement. "Yeah Misao, we can't have you getting killed yet! I mean, who would cook me dinner every night?"
Misao narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "You're retarded."
Soujiro smiled. "You know that you love me."
"Not when you're that greasy," she retorted. "Go take a shower, for the love of God." He smiled and did as he was told. Once that was taken care of, Misao went to Kamatari. He looked even paler than before, and much more tired. "Come on Kamatari, I'll take you back to bed. You should rest."
"Thank you, Misao," he said quietly. Misao helped him back to his room upstairs and brought him dinner later. However, her menial tasks no longer held the simple joy that little wonder Misao always felt at living a normal life. Now, her mind was occupied with thoughts of a job.
Once more, Misao Makimachi had become the Phantom Rogue.
On the street, Kaoru pulled out her cell phone and punched a number in from memory. Placing it to her ear, it rang twice before it was answered.
"Kaoru," spoke Kenshin Himura. "How did it go?"
"She'll be there," Kaoru said with certainty.
"How can you be sure?"
"I saw her brother."