Shattered Mirror
Disclaimer: -sighs- Don't own Rurouni Kenshin.-scowls- But I'd like Kenshin at my birthday party, thanks! -smiles cheerfully- Sano would do as well, or Aoshi.-rambles off- And Sou-chan.
Kenshin: -sweatdrop- I think we should tell the story, that we should.
Padfoot: Aye, commander
Chapter One: Shards of Glass
***
From as far back as she could remember, Kamiya Kaoru hated mirrors.
Despised them was a better use of wording, likely.
It wasn't she could have hated her looks. In fact, all of the maids and servants in her father's household, as well as people who knew her could confirm the girl glowed with radiance and beauty, with her china-doll skin, wide blue eyes, long raven colored hair, and a figure reserved for dancers. No, it couldn't be her reflection.
Or was it?
From as far back as anyone could remember, Kaoru not only hated mirrors. She destroyed them, and occasionally, other objects that were in her path.
It was almost amusing to see such a petite girl, filled with rage, trashing anything showing her a reflection. Then it got frightening. She was no weakling. Quite strong, though in a small package. The child had been training her body into top condition since she was 6.
Her father never knew about Kaoru's hatred for her reflection, so blissfully unaware. He was a powerful man in Japan-owning a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo, and simply rolling in billions of dollars. He spent most of his time traveling around the globe, so that he only saw his only daughter on, sometimes, a yearly basis. Mr. Kamiya slowly started becoming a memory as he shook hands with the president of the United States, and had tea with the Queen of England.
All the while, Kamiya Kaoru was slowly going insane with pent up emotions. Slowly going crazy with a bodyguard always at her side. Slowly bleeding to death as she continued to break mirror after mirror.
Assassins and kidnappers were no concern to her anymore. She prayed for the assassins to come these days, to get her out of the insanity and pure hatred she felt. For the kidnappers to dispose of her as soon as they got ransom from her father. On days when she regained her consciousness into the real world, and felt good inside, these prayers ceased. But otherwise, she begged every moment of every day and night.
Her prayers were answered frequently, but none succeeded in her wishes.
Life as she knew it was driving her to death.
***
Hitokira Battousai frowned.
Frowned.
The voice on the phone, belonging to, as usual, his boss, the coy and heartless Shishio, money hungry and cruel, had told him what his next job was to be. The amber-eyed man was expecting for the usual murder job. Nope, his boss had decided to grant him something much more fun.
Kidnapping. Some brat named Kamiya Kaoru, billionaire's only child. Shishio needed a little extra money. And this girl, a scrawny bitch, was his ticket to enough to give Himura Kenshin a fairly large raise.
Kenshin had argued profusely. What was he, a babysitter? Wrong. Assassin. Hit man. Killer. Manslayer, the most feared man in the shadows of Japan. Battousai, the newspapers screamed, the man who killed with a sword. Katana, he corrected them mentally.
But the point was, he wasn't going to harbor some kid. Not a chance.
Then Shishio calmly pointed out Kenshin needed the money. Which he did. Joy and happy day. He felt like a puppet.
The envelope, delivered to his apartment across Tokyo from the Kamiya area, gave him the information. Kamiya Kaoru, female, 18 years old. Rare-to-never leaves house. Generally stays in her own quarters. Quiet, usually with bodyguard. Unknown personality. Unknown temper.
He had picked out the three black and white photographs; to make sure he got the right girl, carefully, studying them briefly before crumpling them up and lighting them on fire, before tossing them in the trash. One was off a petite, black haired young woman sitting at an easel, painting carefully, a man with dark hair standing over her shoulder, his face eyeing her protectively. Another was the same girl writing at a hardwood desk. The last was off, once again, the girl getting into a car, in front of her mansion. Kenshin licked his lips, the surface suddenly dry. Her father was loaded! Shishio picked a wise target.
The Battousai stood from his perch on a stool, drumming his fingers against the hilt of his sword with one hand, the other tracing the cross shaped scar on his cheek. Tomoe. Outside, a light drizzle and the night would be his cover of darkness. With a swish of his red, high ponytail, he disappeared out his door, trench coat swirling behind him briefly, before the image of the shadow assassin ceased to exist.
***
Kaoru opened her eyes, rubbing her temples as she got off the couch, dressed in her pajamas, a tank top and shorts. One of her faithful bodyguards and closest confidant, Sanosake Sagara, was sitting placidly in an armchair, reading a magazine. "Aha, the Beauty awakens to the Beast-ly world. Sleep well, Kaoru-chan?"
She shrugged, and fell of the couch. Her hands were covered with paint, she observed, splashes of blue, green, and yellow, from an earlier mural she had been constructing. For those not too aware of the girl's life, the teenager was a natural artist. Scrambling to her feet, she walked behind Sano, and hugged his neck. He seemed surprised, "What do you want?"
Kaoru pouted, "Alright, I'll drop the act. Can I go upstairs, and you stay down here, for once? I'm making myself some toast, and retreating to listen to some CDs my pen pal sent me yesterday. Kaoru time. Not Kaoru-being- constantly-watched-time. Please?" Her blue eyes held a hidden malice clearly stating: Let me go off by myself, or I'll knock you out, rooster head.
Brown eyes looked at her skeptically, "Alright then. If you need me, feel free to scream." In turn, he got a squeeze from the girl, "I owe you one, Sano-chan." With that, she ran off into the next room and highly equipped kitchen.
Her bodyguard rolled his eyes, murmuring, "Crazy child.jut hope she stays in such a good mood for another day."
Indeed, Kaoru was in an excellent mood. For once, she had started to enjoy life a little, and hadn't prayed for death in a full week. She hadn't broken any mirrors for a whole two weeks now, and was slowly ceasing in her violent outbursts.
To bad it would change that night.
***
The papers had instructed him to try not to kill more then required, and make sure the girl wouldn't get hurt to extreme. Watch out for the bodyguard-some brute named Sanosake whose fists were deadly.
Kenshin's eyes narrowed as he drove his sleek black car expertly and quickly. Within a good set of time, he parked his ride in a grove of trees outside the tall gates that created a cage of refinery around his assignment. Within a minute, the guard outside was lying a pool of blood, a slash disemboweling his head from his body. He never knew what hit him.
The sword remained unsheathed as the quiet footsteps crept to the doors. Battousai scowled, and climbed instead through a window on the second floor. Easy stuff. And he wasn't fond of doors. With the movements of a cat, he stole to the shadows, peering into a living room the size of his home. Grandly decorated, with an arching doorway to a kitchen. On one of the chairs, reading quietly, was a man, tall, brown haired guy. Kenshin's grip tightened on his sword as he considered approaching, before a new figure appeared on the scene.
A young woman, dressed in black, shorts and a tank top, carrying a plate clasped in long, delicate figures. Her raven hair was tied back loosely, strands freely shifting in and out as they pleased. Big, blue eyes cheerfully bounced to the man in the chair-her bodyguard, he presumed, her milky skin, marred slightly by scars contrasting deeply with her clothing.
"Goodnight, Sano. Come up to tuck me in later, okay, rooster-head?" Her voice was silky and calm, as this 'Sano' character smiled reluctantly, "Go listen to your music, Kaoru-chan. And remember your pills this time...I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, baka shoujo." He received a whack on his mop of hair, and the girl strode up a staircase with long legs, her bare feet moving lightly.
Kenshin sucked in his breath, his brow wrinkled. Upstairs.another window! Lovely. Speaking of lovely.the girl's soft image stared back at him inside his head. He quickly shook it off. Going soft. Not the time, Battousai. With that, a set of fiery-amber eyes fled to a window. A moment later, Sano turned around. Someone was there! He was sure.but no.in the shadowed room, all that moved were the curtains on the half-open window.
***
Kaoru opened the door to her room quietly. Her sanctuary, that's what she called it. Highest room in the house, and one of the smallest. She hated the intensity and spaces of a large room. Hers was perfect.
The walls were painted by Kaoru, in scenes of rivers and tress, flowers and plants. Bokkens and a few traditional samurai swords hung off a rack, all but the bokkens, that were worn from heavy training, crisp and clean. A wooden desk was pushed into one corner, as well as a chest of drawers, and a futon, neatly made, piled with dolls from her lonely childhood where she'd pretend the world was a wonderful place. A CD player was on the floor by the bed, and shelves lined with pictures adorned the walls, the ceiling a mural of starry visions.
Perfect.
Kaoru set the plate on the floor, picking up a CD from her bed, a note attached, in an untidy scrawl of Japanese, "Kaoru-chan- Tunes for the worlds strangest pen pal. I suck at Japanese, but hell, I'm trying! -Jamie- chan" Chuckling, Kaoru set the CD in her player, and winced slightly as the music came blasting out. For a second, she stood, staring at the CD player, before turning it down, looking at the back of the note. According to Jamie- chan, who seemed to want her friend to 'get hip', this was called 'Faint'. It was good, though. Great beat.
With that, Kaoru turned around.
Something was different.
Five, flat square packages wrapped in brown paper, post marked from around the world leaned against various areas of the room. Attached to the largest was an envelope that the girl retrieved with trembling fingers. Inside, was the flowing script of her father, "Dear daughter- This past four months, I've gone to America, China, France, Russia, and England. In each I hoped to find the perfect gift for you. These seemed perfect. You need to stop concentrating on your art, Kaoru, and more on your reflection. A girl as pretty as you should love to have something to relish her beauty with. Love, Father"
Kaoru, her body shaking, reached out and grabbed the paper on the parcel, tearing off a strip. What stared back was a slice of Kaoru.
Her reflection.
He had sent her mirrors, in elaborate frames.
She ripped off the rest of the paper for all of them, spinning around.
Kaoru.
Kaoru.
Kaoru.
All she could see.
Mirrors! Kaoru screamed, her heart pounding violently.
Within a second, she was running to the first one, fist outstretched. The glass shattered with a punch and a kick, leaving fresh blood on her body. The second one. She grabbed it with both hands and smashed it against two shelves pressed against another. The stuff on the shelves fell, as well as tiny bits of Kaoru.
The third and fourth came down with more kicking and punching, more smashing against her things. More blood fell. More glass fell. More objects fell. More anger.
Then the fifth went. With a body slam. Kaoru whimpered as she felt herself bleeding, and fell to her knees, tears running down her face.
The room was trashed. As her good mood.
Her reflection. Damn it. Damn her reflection.
***
Sano had been rubbing his ears for a few seconds now. Ugh.more music from Club Kaoru. Frowning, he pondered whether to make her turn it down, when he heard her scream.
It was like he had been running before she screamed. Fists clenched, he practically flew up the steps. If the Raccoon got killed...he couldn't live with himself. What was it this time, assassins, kidnappers?
He skidded in front of the open doorway, unaware of the shadow that lurked from the door across. Inside, he found the girl on the floor, covered it thin cuts all over, bleeding red stains onto the white carpet, glass shattered everywhere as she sobbed quietly. Before he could say anything, she did, "Sanosake..." She breathed out the sentence, "He...sent me...mirrors."
The next thing he knew, the bodyguard was kneeling next to her, long arms rubbing her back like she was a small child who had woken from a nightmare. Her face was pressed against his shoulder as she cried onto his white jacket. He shut his eyes momentarily, whispering, "I thought you'd started to get better about it, Raccoon. C'mon, your 18 years old. It's time we get over this problem. But tonight, you have permission to use my shoulder, alright Kaoru?"
She didn't move. Sano took it as a yes.
That's when his nose drew in the metallic scent of blood that did not belong to the girl, his ears the footsteps, and a quiet drawl, "I've come for the girl. If you give little struggle, I'll kill you quickly."
***
Kenshin's hands curled into fists, the wooden handle of his katana pressing tightly into his palm. Great.now he was going to go deaf. The phrase 'I won't be ignored' pounding in his ears, he stepped forward, quietly.
He peered into the room, just as a scream erupted. Shit! She had seen him.
But no-she was staring at a flat package, several similar ones around. Ducking into a room, he disposed of a maid folding clothes quietly and quickly with a thrust and slash, turning the light off, and breathing quietly. What he heard next, he became quietly confused by. Breaking glass. Peeking in, he drew back, eyes wide. Mirrors. The packages were mirrors. And she was smashing them, slicing herself up.
Insane. This girl was crazy.
He bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. Then, heavy footsteps. The bodyguard was running down the hall, storming into her room where the girl was sobbing now on the floor.
Battousai leaned back on the wall, listening to soft breathing and whispered words. Psycho child. Shishio was dead. So dead. He was sticking him with a crazy 18 year old who smashed mirrors.
But, it was time to go. He stepped out of the room, and to her open doorway. He girl's eyes were clamped shut as she sniffed and attempted to retain herself into the taller man's chest.
He held lightly to his katana, the tip swaying slightly was his light movements, trembling with his voice, "I've come for the girl. If you give little struggle, I'll kill you quickly."
***
Kaoru didn't want to open her eyes. She felt Sano stiffen at the man's voice, and the stench of blood filled her nostrils, hers and another's.
Then, she was rising, and her blue eyes snapped open at the movements that were forced unto her.
A man, a little on the short side, with the strangest amber eyes, and a red, high ponytail. He was outfitted in sleek black, a trench coat hanging off of him. On his hand was an old-fashioned long sword, red dripping off of it like a stream of water.
A smirk was fastened onto his face, otherwise without any expression.
Sano had placed himself in front of her, grabbing a katana from the wall rack, as he growled to Kaoru, "Please ...I know what you pray for, but your coming such a long way...I'd die if you got killed...so run, Kaoru, the first chance. Please..."
Nodding mutely, she tugged his sleeve, and his face turned towards the young Japanese woman, "Don't get hurt, rooster-head." With that, she took a step back, feeling glass break beneath her feet, the shards from her violent outburst.
The next seconds were a blur. The man advanced with lightening speed, Sano countering like a snake. Though trained to use his hands, he had learnt swordplay. The two men went at it like wolves, the irresistibly evil gleam in the man's eyes, Sano's menacing brown ones as cold as a snowstorm.
Thrilling. Exciting. Horrifying.
The amber-eyed man moved like a cat, eyes locked on her. She felt shivers go up her spine, and edged towards her door. Sano, bless him, was drawing the samurai from the only escape she had. Finally, seeing her hesitating, he turned towards the girl, shouting, "Go, Raccoon! Get out of here!"
And she ran, before hearing a moan. With that, she stopped, and switched directions to a room. She had to help Sano out somehow.
***
Battousai had to hand it to the bodyguard. He was well trained and talented, countering almost every attack he sent, and vice versa.
But he was smart. Without warning, he had drawn the manslayer from the doorway, and shouting for the girl to go. And off she went, like a scared rabbit, her feet leaving bloody prints on the white marble.
Growling, Battousai cried out, "I have no time for you!" and slashed at him while this Sano was still preoccupied with the fleeing girl, taking advantage in that split second.
He fell to his knees weakly, a long cut from his shoulder to hip. If it wasn't for him managing to move back at that second, he'd be split in half. Now it was just his shirt and a good inch of his chest.
With a scowl, the assassin turned, watching as Sano started to rift into an unconscious state, throwing behind his shoulder a casual, "Let that be a warning from the Battousai, bodyguard."
Feeling rather angry with himself for not being able to do this simple job, he took down the hallway, following the blood trail of the girl. That was when he just managed to duck as a metal pole came out at him. Holding the end of what appeared to actually be some sort of tent pole or volleyball pole, or whatever the hell it was, was the girl, Kamiya Kaoru. She took vicious swipes at him, yelling, "What the fuck did you do to Sano?"
Kenshin, rolled his eyes, and swung around the hits she aimed at him. Child's play. Well, he was thinking that before he felt the pole make contact with his head, throwing him off course. Holy shit, that girl hit hard.
With a cry of, "You bitch!" He grabbed the pole as it came crashing down again, and yanked it from her, causing her to slip on the blood splattered marble, all from her, her wrist snapping as it hit the ground. Broken.
She was his now.
Or so he thought.
The girl made a vicious thrust with her feet at his shins, making the assassin stumble. In the moment he was caught off guard, she scrambled to her feet, and started for a hallway, slipping in her blood.
She never even saw Kenshin bringing down his sheath to knock her out. He was that fast.
Bending down, the Battousai swung her into his arms. Her bare skin on his hands, though heavily cut form the glass, was thin, smooth and delicate, like a baby's.
With that, he made his way to the window, and left.
Disclaimer: -sighs- Don't own Rurouni Kenshin.-scowls- But I'd like Kenshin at my birthday party, thanks! -smiles cheerfully- Sano would do as well, or Aoshi.-rambles off- And Sou-chan.
Kenshin: -sweatdrop- I think we should tell the story, that we should.
Padfoot: Aye, commander
Chapter One: Shards of Glass
***
From as far back as she could remember, Kamiya Kaoru hated mirrors.
Despised them was a better use of wording, likely.
It wasn't she could have hated her looks. In fact, all of the maids and servants in her father's household, as well as people who knew her could confirm the girl glowed with radiance and beauty, with her china-doll skin, wide blue eyes, long raven colored hair, and a figure reserved for dancers. No, it couldn't be her reflection.
Or was it?
From as far back as anyone could remember, Kaoru not only hated mirrors. She destroyed them, and occasionally, other objects that were in her path.
It was almost amusing to see such a petite girl, filled with rage, trashing anything showing her a reflection. Then it got frightening. She was no weakling. Quite strong, though in a small package. The child had been training her body into top condition since she was 6.
Her father never knew about Kaoru's hatred for her reflection, so blissfully unaware. He was a powerful man in Japan-owning a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Tokyo, and simply rolling in billions of dollars. He spent most of his time traveling around the globe, so that he only saw his only daughter on, sometimes, a yearly basis. Mr. Kamiya slowly started becoming a memory as he shook hands with the president of the United States, and had tea with the Queen of England.
All the while, Kamiya Kaoru was slowly going insane with pent up emotions. Slowly going crazy with a bodyguard always at her side. Slowly bleeding to death as she continued to break mirror after mirror.
Assassins and kidnappers were no concern to her anymore. She prayed for the assassins to come these days, to get her out of the insanity and pure hatred she felt. For the kidnappers to dispose of her as soon as they got ransom from her father. On days when she regained her consciousness into the real world, and felt good inside, these prayers ceased. But otherwise, she begged every moment of every day and night.
Her prayers were answered frequently, but none succeeded in her wishes.
Life as she knew it was driving her to death.
***
Hitokira Battousai frowned.
Frowned.
The voice on the phone, belonging to, as usual, his boss, the coy and heartless Shishio, money hungry and cruel, had told him what his next job was to be. The amber-eyed man was expecting for the usual murder job. Nope, his boss had decided to grant him something much more fun.
Kidnapping. Some brat named Kamiya Kaoru, billionaire's only child. Shishio needed a little extra money. And this girl, a scrawny bitch, was his ticket to enough to give Himura Kenshin a fairly large raise.
Kenshin had argued profusely. What was he, a babysitter? Wrong. Assassin. Hit man. Killer. Manslayer, the most feared man in the shadows of Japan. Battousai, the newspapers screamed, the man who killed with a sword. Katana, he corrected them mentally.
But the point was, he wasn't going to harbor some kid. Not a chance.
Then Shishio calmly pointed out Kenshin needed the money. Which he did. Joy and happy day. He felt like a puppet.
The envelope, delivered to his apartment across Tokyo from the Kamiya area, gave him the information. Kamiya Kaoru, female, 18 years old. Rare-to-never leaves house. Generally stays in her own quarters. Quiet, usually with bodyguard. Unknown personality. Unknown temper.
He had picked out the three black and white photographs; to make sure he got the right girl, carefully, studying them briefly before crumpling them up and lighting them on fire, before tossing them in the trash. One was off a petite, black haired young woman sitting at an easel, painting carefully, a man with dark hair standing over her shoulder, his face eyeing her protectively. Another was the same girl writing at a hardwood desk. The last was off, once again, the girl getting into a car, in front of her mansion. Kenshin licked his lips, the surface suddenly dry. Her father was loaded! Shishio picked a wise target.
The Battousai stood from his perch on a stool, drumming his fingers against the hilt of his sword with one hand, the other tracing the cross shaped scar on his cheek. Tomoe. Outside, a light drizzle and the night would be his cover of darkness. With a swish of his red, high ponytail, he disappeared out his door, trench coat swirling behind him briefly, before the image of the shadow assassin ceased to exist.
***
Kaoru opened her eyes, rubbing her temples as she got off the couch, dressed in her pajamas, a tank top and shorts. One of her faithful bodyguards and closest confidant, Sanosake Sagara, was sitting placidly in an armchair, reading a magazine. "Aha, the Beauty awakens to the Beast-ly world. Sleep well, Kaoru-chan?"
She shrugged, and fell of the couch. Her hands were covered with paint, she observed, splashes of blue, green, and yellow, from an earlier mural she had been constructing. For those not too aware of the girl's life, the teenager was a natural artist. Scrambling to her feet, she walked behind Sano, and hugged his neck. He seemed surprised, "What do you want?"
Kaoru pouted, "Alright, I'll drop the act. Can I go upstairs, and you stay down here, for once? I'm making myself some toast, and retreating to listen to some CDs my pen pal sent me yesterday. Kaoru time. Not Kaoru-being- constantly-watched-time. Please?" Her blue eyes held a hidden malice clearly stating: Let me go off by myself, or I'll knock you out, rooster head.
Brown eyes looked at her skeptically, "Alright then. If you need me, feel free to scream." In turn, he got a squeeze from the girl, "I owe you one, Sano-chan." With that, she ran off into the next room and highly equipped kitchen.
Her bodyguard rolled his eyes, murmuring, "Crazy child.jut hope she stays in such a good mood for another day."
Indeed, Kaoru was in an excellent mood. For once, she had started to enjoy life a little, and hadn't prayed for death in a full week. She hadn't broken any mirrors for a whole two weeks now, and was slowly ceasing in her violent outbursts.
To bad it would change that night.
***
The papers had instructed him to try not to kill more then required, and make sure the girl wouldn't get hurt to extreme. Watch out for the bodyguard-some brute named Sanosake whose fists were deadly.
Kenshin's eyes narrowed as he drove his sleek black car expertly and quickly. Within a good set of time, he parked his ride in a grove of trees outside the tall gates that created a cage of refinery around his assignment. Within a minute, the guard outside was lying a pool of blood, a slash disemboweling his head from his body. He never knew what hit him.
The sword remained unsheathed as the quiet footsteps crept to the doors. Battousai scowled, and climbed instead through a window on the second floor. Easy stuff. And he wasn't fond of doors. With the movements of a cat, he stole to the shadows, peering into a living room the size of his home. Grandly decorated, with an arching doorway to a kitchen. On one of the chairs, reading quietly, was a man, tall, brown haired guy. Kenshin's grip tightened on his sword as he considered approaching, before a new figure appeared on the scene.
A young woman, dressed in black, shorts and a tank top, carrying a plate clasped in long, delicate figures. Her raven hair was tied back loosely, strands freely shifting in and out as they pleased. Big, blue eyes cheerfully bounced to the man in the chair-her bodyguard, he presumed, her milky skin, marred slightly by scars contrasting deeply with her clothing.
"Goodnight, Sano. Come up to tuck me in later, okay, rooster-head?" Her voice was silky and calm, as this 'Sano' character smiled reluctantly, "Go listen to your music, Kaoru-chan. And remember your pills this time...I didn't get a wink of sleep last night, baka shoujo." He received a whack on his mop of hair, and the girl strode up a staircase with long legs, her bare feet moving lightly.
Kenshin sucked in his breath, his brow wrinkled. Upstairs.another window! Lovely. Speaking of lovely.the girl's soft image stared back at him inside his head. He quickly shook it off. Going soft. Not the time, Battousai. With that, a set of fiery-amber eyes fled to a window. A moment later, Sano turned around. Someone was there! He was sure.but no.in the shadowed room, all that moved were the curtains on the half-open window.
***
Kaoru opened the door to her room quietly. Her sanctuary, that's what she called it. Highest room in the house, and one of the smallest. She hated the intensity and spaces of a large room. Hers was perfect.
The walls were painted by Kaoru, in scenes of rivers and tress, flowers and plants. Bokkens and a few traditional samurai swords hung off a rack, all but the bokkens, that were worn from heavy training, crisp and clean. A wooden desk was pushed into one corner, as well as a chest of drawers, and a futon, neatly made, piled with dolls from her lonely childhood where she'd pretend the world was a wonderful place. A CD player was on the floor by the bed, and shelves lined with pictures adorned the walls, the ceiling a mural of starry visions.
Perfect.
Kaoru set the plate on the floor, picking up a CD from her bed, a note attached, in an untidy scrawl of Japanese, "Kaoru-chan- Tunes for the worlds strangest pen pal. I suck at Japanese, but hell, I'm trying! -Jamie- chan" Chuckling, Kaoru set the CD in her player, and winced slightly as the music came blasting out. For a second, she stood, staring at the CD player, before turning it down, looking at the back of the note. According to Jamie- chan, who seemed to want her friend to 'get hip', this was called 'Faint'. It was good, though. Great beat.
With that, Kaoru turned around.
Something was different.
Five, flat square packages wrapped in brown paper, post marked from around the world leaned against various areas of the room. Attached to the largest was an envelope that the girl retrieved with trembling fingers. Inside, was the flowing script of her father, "Dear daughter- This past four months, I've gone to America, China, France, Russia, and England. In each I hoped to find the perfect gift for you. These seemed perfect. You need to stop concentrating on your art, Kaoru, and more on your reflection. A girl as pretty as you should love to have something to relish her beauty with. Love, Father"
Kaoru, her body shaking, reached out and grabbed the paper on the parcel, tearing off a strip. What stared back was a slice of Kaoru.
Her reflection.
He had sent her mirrors, in elaborate frames.
She ripped off the rest of the paper for all of them, spinning around.
Kaoru.
Kaoru.
Kaoru.
All she could see.
Mirrors! Kaoru screamed, her heart pounding violently.
Within a second, she was running to the first one, fist outstretched. The glass shattered with a punch and a kick, leaving fresh blood on her body. The second one. She grabbed it with both hands and smashed it against two shelves pressed against another. The stuff on the shelves fell, as well as tiny bits of Kaoru.
The third and fourth came down with more kicking and punching, more smashing against her things. More blood fell. More glass fell. More objects fell. More anger.
Then the fifth went. With a body slam. Kaoru whimpered as she felt herself bleeding, and fell to her knees, tears running down her face.
The room was trashed. As her good mood.
Her reflection. Damn it. Damn her reflection.
***
Sano had been rubbing his ears for a few seconds now. Ugh.more music from Club Kaoru. Frowning, he pondered whether to make her turn it down, when he heard her scream.
It was like he had been running before she screamed. Fists clenched, he practically flew up the steps. If the Raccoon got killed...he couldn't live with himself. What was it this time, assassins, kidnappers?
He skidded in front of the open doorway, unaware of the shadow that lurked from the door across. Inside, he found the girl on the floor, covered it thin cuts all over, bleeding red stains onto the white carpet, glass shattered everywhere as she sobbed quietly. Before he could say anything, she did, "Sanosake..." She breathed out the sentence, "He...sent me...mirrors."
The next thing he knew, the bodyguard was kneeling next to her, long arms rubbing her back like she was a small child who had woken from a nightmare. Her face was pressed against his shoulder as she cried onto his white jacket. He shut his eyes momentarily, whispering, "I thought you'd started to get better about it, Raccoon. C'mon, your 18 years old. It's time we get over this problem. But tonight, you have permission to use my shoulder, alright Kaoru?"
She didn't move. Sano took it as a yes.
That's when his nose drew in the metallic scent of blood that did not belong to the girl, his ears the footsteps, and a quiet drawl, "I've come for the girl. If you give little struggle, I'll kill you quickly."
***
Kenshin's hands curled into fists, the wooden handle of his katana pressing tightly into his palm. Great.now he was going to go deaf. The phrase 'I won't be ignored' pounding in his ears, he stepped forward, quietly.
He peered into the room, just as a scream erupted. Shit! She had seen him.
But no-she was staring at a flat package, several similar ones around. Ducking into a room, he disposed of a maid folding clothes quietly and quickly with a thrust and slash, turning the light off, and breathing quietly. What he heard next, he became quietly confused by. Breaking glass. Peeking in, he drew back, eyes wide. Mirrors. The packages were mirrors. And she was smashing them, slicing herself up.
Insane. This girl was crazy.
He bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. Then, heavy footsteps. The bodyguard was running down the hall, storming into her room where the girl was sobbing now on the floor.
Battousai leaned back on the wall, listening to soft breathing and whispered words. Psycho child. Shishio was dead. So dead. He was sticking him with a crazy 18 year old who smashed mirrors.
But, it was time to go. He stepped out of the room, and to her open doorway. He girl's eyes were clamped shut as she sniffed and attempted to retain herself into the taller man's chest.
He held lightly to his katana, the tip swaying slightly was his light movements, trembling with his voice, "I've come for the girl. If you give little struggle, I'll kill you quickly."
***
Kaoru didn't want to open her eyes. She felt Sano stiffen at the man's voice, and the stench of blood filled her nostrils, hers and another's.
Then, she was rising, and her blue eyes snapped open at the movements that were forced unto her.
A man, a little on the short side, with the strangest amber eyes, and a red, high ponytail. He was outfitted in sleek black, a trench coat hanging off of him. On his hand was an old-fashioned long sword, red dripping off of it like a stream of water.
A smirk was fastened onto his face, otherwise without any expression.
Sano had placed himself in front of her, grabbing a katana from the wall rack, as he growled to Kaoru, "Please ...I know what you pray for, but your coming such a long way...I'd die if you got killed...so run, Kaoru, the first chance. Please..."
Nodding mutely, she tugged his sleeve, and his face turned towards the young Japanese woman, "Don't get hurt, rooster-head." With that, she took a step back, feeling glass break beneath her feet, the shards from her violent outburst.
The next seconds were a blur. The man advanced with lightening speed, Sano countering like a snake. Though trained to use his hands, he had learnt swordplay. The two men went at it like wolves, the irresistibly evil gleam in the man's eyes, Sano's menacing brown ones as cold as a snowstorm.
Thrilling. Exciting. Horrifying.
The amber-eyed man moved like a cat, eyes locked on her. She felt shivers go up her spine, and edged towards her door. Sano, bless him, was drawing the samurai from the only escape she had. Finally, seeing her hesitating, he turned towards the girl, shouting, "Go, Raccoon! Get out of here!"
And she ran, before hearing a moan. With that, she stopped, and switched directions to a room. She had to help Sano out somehow.
***
Battousai had to hand it to the bodyguard. He was well trained and talented, countering almost every attack he sent, and vice versa.
But he was smart. Without warning, he had drawn the manslayer from the doorway, and shouting for the girl to go. And off she went, like a scared rabbit, her feet leaving bloody prints on the white marble.
Growling, Battousai cried out, "I have no time for you!" and slashed at him while this Sano was still preoccupied with the fleeing girl, taking advantage in that split second.
He fell to his knees weakly, a long cut from his shoulder to hip. If it wasn't for him managing to move back at that second, he'd be split in half. Now it was just his shirt and a good inch of his chest.
With a scowl, the assassin turned, watching as Sano started to rift into an unconscious state, throwing behind his shoulder a casual, "Let that be a warning from the Battousai, bodyguard."
Feeling rather angry with himself for not being able to do this simple job, he took down the hallway, following the blood trail of the girl. That was when he just managed to duck as a metal pole came out at him. Holding the end of what appeared to actually be some sort of tent pole or volleyball pole, or whatever the hell it was, was the girl, Kamiya Kaoru. She took vicious swipes at him, yelling, "What the fuck did you do to Sano?"
Kenshin, rolled his eyes, and swung around the hits she aimed at him. Child's play. Well, he was thinking that before he felt the pole make contact with his head, throwing him off course. Holy shit, that girl hit hard.
With a cry of, "You bitch!" He grabbed the pole as it came crashing down again, and yanked it from her, causing her to slip on the blood splattered marble, all from her, her wrist snapping as it hit the ground. Broken.
She was his now.
Or so he thought.
The girl made a vicious thrust with her feet at his shins, making the assassin stumble. In the moment he was caught off guard, she scrambled to her feet, and started for a hallway, slipping in her blood.
She never even saw Kenshin bringing down his sheath to knock her out. He was that fast.
Bending down, the Battousai swung her into his arms. Her bare skin on his hands, though heavily cut form the glass, was thin, smooth and delicate, like a baby's.
With that, he made his way to the window, and left.