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Orphan's Paradise
By: Mystic Song
Chapter 1 – Cry Murder
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Summary: There is no room for mistakes if you're a big celebrity like Kenshin Himura. But when there's an assassination attempt gone wrong and Kenshin's image plummets. An orphan named Kaoru may be the only one able to fix Kenshin's image, or ruin it, or will an unknown murderer get to that first?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Rurouni Kenshin characters. Though I did create the plot, it was influenced by the musical Annie.
A/N: Hello everybody! I haven't posted anything for so long, but I got this idea one night and just started writing. I hope you all like it! This is just a type of prologue where the plot really starts rolling. Enjoy!
8:42 pm
Kenshin bit back a surge of frustration, hands clenched tightly at his sides. According to the grandfather clock in Kenshin's study, his escort was now 12 minutes late.
Kenshin sighed and fell back into a black leather armchair, propping his head up with his palm. Just a half an hour before the party, the security system to Kenshin's estate crashed. Kenshin had to single-handedly reboot the system, pondering all the while how such a high-strung security system managed to be infiltrated.
Tired and worn out, Kenshin had come to his study to meet his escort, only to find her not there. He did not want to be late to his own party.
But now…
Kenshin gave another sigh.
But now his escort was missing and his party had started without him.
Kenshin determinedly pushed himself up and out of his armchair and strolled purposefully through the door, all the while straightening his blazer. He was going to have to go to the party, with or without his escort.
Kenshin walked down a narrow, dimly lit hallway that discouraged other visitors from entering, allowing Kenshin an untouched sanctuary to contemplate in. The hallway eventually opened up into a wide lobby just outside the ballroom-like reception hall where his guests were currently enjoying themselves—without him.
A pair of great oak doors were all that separated Kenshin from the party, but he lingered in the lobby nonetheless for just a second longer. He glanced over at a nearby mirror, checking his high tail of fiery red hair, brushing a few bangs out of his eyes that accented his dangerously sharp cheek bones. His eyes were a deep amethyst that held a golden spark, like an emitting flame, which was the only thing that accounted for his perturbed mood.
Kenshin then threw open the doors, placing a haphazard smirk on his face, and became absorbed with the lively chatter and the tinkling china.
A cheer arose in the small crowd at Kenshin's entrance.
"Here's to Kenshin!" They shouted with a toast of their champagne glasses.
Kenshin smiled and modestly thanked his guests.
A large table sat in the middle of the room, and sitting at it were the most important executives of his late parents' company over in Japan. It was a grand occasion: the company was just named number one in Japan. Kenshin had invited the board to come and celebrate on his estate.
Also seated at the table was Hiko Seijuro, Kenshin's uncle who had eagerly taken him in after his parents had died, teaching Kenshin everything about the Hiten-Mitsurugi; a dangerous and deadly art form that involved swords, hence the name of his company.
Kenshin sat down between Hiko and a man by the name of Shishio Makato. Shishio was a cruel man with charcoal hair and dark skin. His eyes were cold and piercing. He was a calculable man as well who was not to be underestimated. But Kenshin hated him just the same.
Shishio was Kenshin Himura's PR. He used to be on Mr. and Mrs. Himura's board of trustees, and after their death, volunteered to watch over Kenshin's public image and steer him up the social ladder.
Despite sitting next to his adversary, Kenshin found the party to be pleasant and polite. Kenshin generally liked more rowdy, upbeat parties; but ever since he announced his retirement from the movie business one month ago, the press had decided to latch onto Kenshin, observing his every move and trying to find out the "real reason" why he left.
So Kenshin sat congenially at the table, chuckling at jokes, recalling humorous stories in his movie career, and discussing upcoming events that Himura's company would be sponsoring.
Two hours had passed and the conversation started to dwindle when the oak doors opened. In stepped a young woman with a plum-colored dress whose back was cut just as low as the front. Her black hair was tightly pulled back into a clip, the ends flaring out exotically.
"Well, if it isn't Tomoe Yukishiro." Shishio drawled, "How kind of you to join us."
Tomoe smiled pleasantly and gracefully approached Kenshin, finally bowing in apology. "My apologies, Kenhin-sama." Tomoe was a model for a new clothes line Kenshin had started a year earlier. Needless to say that long hours of working one on one with his favorite model led to a more prominent relationship.
Kenshin stood up from his chair and pulled up an extra one for Tomoe, all the while waving her apology aside. "No problem. I'm just glad that you could make it." He shot her a charming smirk. It was hard to keep a grudge with a woman as beautiful as Tomoe. Her soft-handedness and quiet demeanor were pleasing and relaxing; a comforting contrast to his busy life.
As Tomoe took her seat, she leant over to Kenshin's neck and pressed her lips to his ear. "Could I see you for a minute…alone?" She asked, her voice smooth.
Kenshin became very aware of the light sheen on her skin and vaguely wondered if it was a new gel she put on, though it looked very much like sweat. "Of course." He replied. Normally, they would go to a secluded room and make love, but tonight Tomoe lacked that seductive twinkle in her eye. Instead it was replaced with something stronger, something darker, something Kenshin couldn't put his finger on.
The party, being fueled on alcohol and good humor, paid them little heed as they left the room: only Shishio looked up from his plate and shot them a sardonic smirk. Kenshin rolled his eyes and opened the door to let Tomoe through.
The door closed, and with it shut out all the noise from within the hall. All that could be heard now was Tomoe's high heeled shoes clicking as she paced across the marble floor.
Kenshin looked at her quizzically, but Tomoe chose to ignore him; her complexion fading; her fists clenched white.
"Shall we go for a walk across the garden?" Kenshin asked civilly, offering Tomoe his arm. She looked like she could use a bit of fresh air, 'and,' Kenshin admitted haughtily to himself, 'if she still wants to have some fun, it'll be a change of scenery.'
Tomoe's voice failed her, so instead she nodded her head.
Kenshin lead her across the entry way through the large stained-glass front doors and out onto a cobblestone pathway that circled around a water fountain and lead straight into his exquisite garden, which was shielded from immediate view by towering shrubbery sprinkled with roses and tulips. A perfect sanctuary.
Tomoe hesitated before entering the garden. Kenshin observed her as she mentally recuperated herself and determinedly took a few steps forward.
It wasn't until Kenshin and Tomoe reached the heart of the garden when he felt that they weren't alone. It was a lingering presence in the back of his mind, and one that grew ever stronger as they roamed deeper into the garden. And with every step they took, Tomoe became more and more rigid: first her heels clicking clumsily across the cobblestone, then her arms clenching tightly to her sides, and finally her back firming as rigid as a pole. Hoping to relieve Tomoe's uneasiness, he put his arm around her waist. However, she instantly froze.
"Take your arm off her." A cold voice growled behind them, and Kenshin noted a trace of jealousy in his tone.
"And who are you to tell me what to do?" Kenshin asked smoothly, not at all surprised at the sudden intruder, and slowly turning around to face the aggressor.
A man concealed in black stood behind Kenshin, a sword clenched in his hands, a shock of brown hair sticking out from his cap. His dark eyes narrowed at the sight of Kenshin's arm around Tomoe's waist.
"My name is Akira, and you fear it as you will. Tonight will be your last night." The man said, taking an offensive stance beside a towering wall of flowers, sword drawn at his side.
Kenshin pushed the still Tomoe back behind him, almost protectively, as he drew into a defensive stance. He wasn't as worried about facing an opponent without a sword as he knew that someone wanted to take his life. Hiko had taught him well; this wouldn't be the first time he fought without a weapon against an armed aggressor.
Akira leapt forward with his sword raised and aimed for Kenshin's head. Kenshin, who was abnormally fast (thanks to his training), ducked and rolled off to the side, causing Akira to slam his sword down into the ground. Akira growled and swung around, fire burning in his eyes.
Kenshin was confused. "Why are you trying to kill me?" He asked, dodging another violent blow. He planned to not take aggressive action until he knew what was going on. Perhaps Akira's answer would solve the mysterious crashing of his security system.
"How dare you touch my fiancé!" Akira cried, swiveling from a missed attack to charge at Kenshin.
Kenshin was shocked. He narrowly stepped out of the way of Akira's charge in order to stare at Tomoe. "You're his….fiancé?" He managed to say, trying to catch Tomoe's hidden gaze.
Tomoe's hands hid her face from view, her back bent over, and her body shaking. A great moan ripped from her body that confirmed Kenshin's question.
A great fury swept through Kenshin's body as his muscles tensed and his eyes glowed gold. This woman whom he had been seeing for six months, whom he had slept with, and whom he had trusted, was engaged to this lunatic that was now trying to kill him.
Out of sheer rage, he turned his back on his attacker and approached Tomoe threateningly. She lifted her head and gasped, backing away from Kenshin but only pressing herself harder against the towering shrubbery behind her. Out of desperation, Tomoe reached down to her leg and, tucked beneath the folds of her dress, retrieved a dagger. She hastily slashed the dagger in Kenshin's general direction, catching the side of his face with the tip and drawing it down his cheek. After she did it, she froze and looked with horror at Kenshin's new gash, and at Akira approaching Kenshin silently from behind with his sword raised.
Tomoe let loose a cry of terror and desperation, flinging herself between the two men of her life; her lover and her intended.
It was too late to stop the sword from falling. It was too late to push Tomoe out of the way.
Tomoe's strangled voice lingered unpleasantly in the garden, the dark blood staining the cobblestones and seeping into the grass. Akira looked down on Tomoe with horror, and a deeper sadness crossed his face, deeper than any emotion Kenshin had ever known or ever felt. Akira lovingly stroked Tomoe's fading pale cheek and picked up the dagger that she had dropped. Turning on Kenshin, who was still paralyzed by shock and surprise, Akira drew another slash across Kenshin's face, completing a large, bloody, 'x'-shaped scar. Then, turning his back on Kenshin and picking up his sword, he muttered mournfully, "Mission failed. Oh, why did I ever get into this.…" and plunged his sword into his stomach.
Two bodies sprawled across the cobblestone floor. And that's where Kenshin left them and retreated inside.
Within forty-five minutes, the police and press swamped Kenshin's gardens. Kenshin sat in his armchair in the study, bandages plastered to his cheek, Hiko by his side, an investigator standing in the corner, and Shishio Makato standing outside the study door.
Please review and tell me what you think! Criticism is welcome, though no flames please. Thanks!