SA: Due to difficulties of the technological sort, I'm updating this from school. *glances around* I'm probably not allowed. Oh well. I'm skipping the better part of lunch for this, so I hope you're all happy.
Disclaimer: Consult previous statements if you really want to know that bad.
~ Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry/
You don't know how lovely you are ~
~ Coldplay "The Scientist"
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Makimachi-san."
"Hm?"
"Stop that."
"Huh? Oh, hai, Aoshi-sama. I will."
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Makimachi-san."
"Hm?"
"Stop that."
"Oh… heh, heh. Was I doing that again?"
"Yes, you were."
Misao sighed. Now she remembered why she hated hospitals. They were so boring. And so white and so clean. Even the chairs she and Aoshi-sama were sitting in were covered in this white plasticy stuff. Aoshi-sama didn't seem to mind. In fact, nothing seemed really to bother him. Except tapping.
Misao, however, did not have endless patience. She was restless, hence the tapping. She'd been sitting in the waiting room with Aoshi-sama for four hours! That really was a long time for someone such as herself, who, as she regularly insisted, was a young child in a woman's body. No one disputed the matter.
She checked the clock. She'd been half-hoping some time would have elapsed. It hadn't. The waiting was just like high school math class. Except in high school math class, her stomach wasn't trying to turn over on itself.
Her mother was still in critical condition. She hadn't changed at all since Misao arrived. But the doctors said if she remained stable for a little while longer, she would have a good chance of surviving.
No, what had Misao more rattled than anything else were the circumstances that led to her mother's hospitalization. Suicide, the doctors whispered. The nurses shook their heads as they examined the bandaged wrists and mangled throat. A good thing the maid had been walking by and heard funny noises…
Misao's senses prickled. She felt like… someone was… watching her. Slowly, to avoid attention, she raised her head and looked around, only to find herself staring into the icy blue-green eyes of… Aoshi-sama…
"Ano… gomen nasai," she muttered and stilled the movement of her fingers.
For a second, so fast she might have imagined it, his eyes softened. For a second, she was allowed a brief insight into the person that he might have been, if all the scientists could have kept their technology to themselves. And, for a second, she wondered how thorough their job had been…
Then abruptly it was gone, that fleeting glimpse of understanding. Misao once again found herself looking into his cold and impassible eyes, partially obscured by his long bangs.
But in that instant, she had seen something. And she made a promise to herself: he's got a smile in there somewhere. And I'm gonna find it.
* ~ *
Saitou Hajime was not a heavy sleeper. Not a floorboard creaked, not a mouse moved in his territory without his knowing. His fighting instincts simply would not allow it. So, naturally, he was well aware of Okita's light, well-trained steps as the kid padded near-silently off the couch and out into the hall. The front door shut with a faint 'click,' signaling the young officer's retreat.
Tokio stirred under his arms, as if attempting to rise. She half-sat up, the hazy light from the streetlamps slipping through the blinds and illuminating her slim form.
Saitou watched her lazily through half-closed eyes.
After a while she sunk back down into his embrace. "And it's still raining, too," she sighed into his chest.
"Is the mother hen finally going to let her chick out of the nest?"
Tokio could practically see the smirk in his voice. "I am not a hen…" she mumbled.
He snorted gently, his special way of laughing.
"Oh shut up…"
* ~ *
"K-Kenshin?" the young woman, whose name happened to be Kamiya Kaoru, managed to squeak out, her gun still trained on his chest. "What are you doing here?" Words could not express her shock at seeing Himura Kenshin, her tenant (and crush) deep in the bowels of the Shinsengumi building.
"Ah, Kaoru-dono, perhaps you should put that away?"
"Huh? Ah, yes, of course, Kenshin! How silly of me!" She felt like she was about to die. Here she was, late at night with Kenshin, in the training grounds of the Shinsengumi, holding a gun like it was a child's toy. What would Captain Kondou-sama say now?
As if on cue, an imposing presence made itself known at Kaoru's back.
"Himura-san. I was not aware that you were acquainted with Kamiya-san."
Kaoru felt like a sheet of ice had been poured down her back. K-Kondou-sama? Here? Now? What god hated her?
"Ah, yes, Kondou-san. She is my landlady."
Oh, Kenshin, I love you! Kaoru thought feverishly. She didn't think she could speak at the moment. Note to self: Get more sleep.
"Oh?" Kondou turned an inquisitive eyebrow on Kaoru.
"M-my father's business," she managed to squeak out. "When he died, I took over."
"I see."
Kenshin was relieved to see Kaoru-dono had managed to gather her wits nicely.
"Well, that will be all. Good evening, Kaoru-san." Kondo bowed formally to the young woman and turned to Kenshin.
Kaoru knew a dismissal when she saw one, especially from Kondou-sama. It was said that only Vice-Captain Hijikata was tougher.
Still, she hesitated, turning her big blue eyes on Kenshin in a questioning glance. He gave her a small smile and nod in return.
That was enough for Kaoru. She bowed quickly to each Kondou-sama and Kenshin before heading off for the elevator.
As she turned the corner, she heard only one sentence.
"Himura-san, I am pleased to know that you have agreed to lend your sword to our cause…"
* ~ * (A Little While Later) * ~ *
"Damn!" Kaoru cursed under her breath, watching the headlights of the last bus retreat down the street. Rain hung heavy in her hair, weighing down her ponytail and giving her the appearance of a drowned water rat.
Her training clothes were safe and dry in her duffel bag hanging off one shoulder. She was dressed casually in a tee shirt and jeans, and the goosebumps on her arms were a constant reminder of her decision not to throw a spare jacket in her locker.
Kamiya Kaoru checked her watch and cursed. Her apartment was on the other side of town and the last bus had just left her in the proverbial dust. Looks like she was going to have to walk after all.
A stray thought caused her to turn back to the entrance of the Shinsengumi base. Where was Kenshin? It had been at least a half an hour since she left him with Kondou-sama. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Kaoru didn't know, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Kondou-sama's last sentence had an ominous ring to it she didn't trust. Kenshin's sword…
Himura Kenshin was well aware that Kamiya Kaoru would want an explanation of the night's events. It had been an unfortunate turn of events that brought them to the same part of the Shinsengumi building at the same time on the same night. If he didn't know better, it would have sounded suspiciously like fate.
Lost in thought, he pushed open the heavy double doors of the front entrance. During the time he spent in the building, it had begun to rain, quite hard.
"Kenshin?"
"Kaoru-dono? I thought you went home, that I did."
She laughed sheepishly. "Well, the thing is, I meant to, but the last bus just pulled away."
He smiled and shrugged out of his jacket. She looked like she was freezing. He draped it around her shoulders. "I have my car. I'll drive you, if you like."
Kaoru suddenly began to believe in angels.
In the car, the silence was heavy. Kenshin patiently braced himself for the in inevitable. Kaoru gathered the courage for her next question:
"Kenshin, what were you doing in the Shinsengumi building?"
* ~ *
Okita shut the door to Saitou's apartment with a tiny 'click.' He knew the cranky cop had heard him, and probably Tokio, also. He waited breathlessly for the answering footsteps.
Finally satisfied he was not going to be followed, the young captain crept out onto the rainy city streets. He was drenched almost instantly. Blinking the rainwater from his eyelashes, he felt his feet treading a familiar path.
He'd crept out often at night lately, ever since he felt himself begin to fade. And always he ended up at the same place.
* ~ * (At the Hospital) * ~ *
"Mmmmm……. Aoshi-sama?" A bleary-eyed and weary Misao yawned. She was stretched along at least two of the waiting room chairs, her neck and knees supported by the armrests, her spine arched uncomfortably as she twisted to look up at him.
"Hai, Makimachi-san?" Aoshi intoned, shifting slightly so he faced the girl sprawled over the chair next to him.
"Misao," she grumbled.
His eyebrow quirked slightly. "Aa, Makimachi-san."
She was beginning to suspect he did it to annoy her. But that would be stupid. "I'm bored," she muttered to no one in particular. An old lady with electric blue hair and eyeshadow behind the desk gave her a funny look. Misao stuck her tongue out.
"Makimachi-san, I was under the impression you were older than four."
She stuck her tongue out at him, too. So what if she was 19? Big deal. "I wanna take a walk. They said Mom should be fine. And I'm bored."
He shrugged imperceptibly. "I'll follow."
"Alright!"
Her mood swings were truly amazing.
Misao skipped lightly over the grounds of the hospital, enjoying the feel of the springy wet grass beneath her feet. Rain dripped off the ends of her hair, and her light jacket was soaked clean through, but the girl could care less.
Aoshi-sama was trailing behind, swift and silent and deadly as a wraith. She could barely make out his tall form, wrapped in his favorite trench coat, through the rainy fog, but she suspected he could see her just fine. Some things just weren't fair.
Her steps slowed as they carried her between small, erect stones, some tilting, some straight. Most had sprigs of delicate flowers lain at their bases.
A graveyard…? Misao wondered as she knelt, heedless of the chilly dampness spreading through her knees, to examine the engraved script on one.
It was pretty, she decided, in an eerie and elegant sort of way. The name, Seta Kana, was unfamiliar to her, but the place had a sweet and sad, nostalgic air to it that squeezed her heart.
A long shadow in her peripheral vision caused the girl to jump suddenly, breath caught in her throat.
"I'm sorry to have startled you, Makimachi-san."
Misao relaxed. "It's no problem, Okita-san." She stood up and dusted herself off, though the motion only served to further smear the grass stains into her jeans.
He laid a tiny flower on top of the others. It was sweet and graceful in appearance, and lent an elusive and tantalizing scent to the air.
"Someone you knew?" she asked cautiously.
"Aa," he replied, not looking up. "My mother."
"I'm sorry," she offered reflexively, not really knowing what else to say.
"I didn't know her well," he admitted, still staring at the curving letters.
Misao, unable to think of an appropriate reply, remained uncharacteristically silent.
"What do you suppose it feels like, to be dead?" he asked suddenly. "What is it like to be nothing more than a name on a stone? Do you know yourself…? Forget your life? Stop caring? Or perhaps," his voice dropped to barely more than a whisper, "there is nothing more than oblivion?"
"A-a better place," she said uncertainly.
He waved it away. "That's what they tell us. But what if it's not true? How can we know?" His normally cheerful voice took on a note of desperation that even Misao couldn't miss.
Misao shivered.
"What do you suppose it's like for someone to know that they are going to die, that every breath they draw brings them inexorably closer to that death? That there is no escape from this destiny? Fate deals a cruel hand."
"I-I think it's enough to drive any person mad," she said.
He laughed bitterly. "Too true..." he muttered. Abruptly, his demeanor changed. "I'm sorry, Makimachi-san! I shouldn't be talking like this with you," he smiled cheerfully. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately…"
She nodded slightly, too shaken to speak.
"Makimachi-san."
She whirled. "Oh, Aoshi-sama…" His tall form loomed up in the fog behind her, mist swirling around his feet, the light breeze ruffling his long bangs. She was momentarily breathless.
"We should go back to the hospital," he said, staring into the space behind her. "Good evening, Okita-san," he nodded in the direction of the younger man.
"Good evening," he chirped.
Misao trotted after Aoshi, glancing every once in a while over her shoulder at the shape of the young captain until the he faded into the haze.
* ~ *
At the same time, not far from the graveyard where Okita and Misao were discussing death, a decrepit old building with peeling white paint, looking like it could have survived since before the Third World War, bore witness to an equally strange conversation.
"Takeda-san, Shishio-san has been very lenient with you," said a boy with an easygoing smile, resting his hands behind his head in a careless gesture. "I would not have done so."
The older man, kneeling on the chalky floor, shook visibly. Sweat dripped down his forehead and rolled off his ugly, pointy nose. Everything about the man was thin and pointy, a sharp contrast to the slender, handsome youth before him.
"Sixteen months ago, you said you could have Okita-san dead within the year."
"I-I… His body proved… unusually resistant… to the pathogen…"
"I didn't ask for excuses, Takeda-san," the boy reprimanded lightly. "And now, you couldn't even properly kill a defenseless woman, much less retrieve the papers we needed," he continued, ticking off the instances on his fingers.
"I – It will be remedied, sir," Takeda Kanryuu squeaked out.
"Good, I'm busy tonight. I would hate to clean up more of your messes," Seta Soujirou smiled, and turned to go. "Oh, and Takeda-san?"
"Yes?"
"You know what to do if you screw up." The heavy door creaked shut behind him.
* ~ *
Makimachi Mayura died in her sleep. Makimachi Misao, the last living member of an old and prominent family, was shocked. She gripped Aoshi's sleeve until her hands turned white. Her blue-green eyes appeared even larger than normal in her pale face.
"They said she would be fine…" Misao whispered.
Aoshi stood awkwardly, unable to respond to a basic instinct to comfort the girl, and unable to pull his arm away.
"Shinomori," Saitou growled from behind them, "what happened here?"
Tokio appeared by his side, her elegant features solemn and troubled.
"It appears to be a suicide," Aoshi replied indifferently. "Apparently she managed to pull the power on her life unit."
"Bullshit," the cop said calmly, lighting a cigarette. Tokio's eyes narrowed slightly. It was then Misao noticed that the glasses she had worn at the Shinsengumi building were missing.
Aoshi was unruffled. "It is officially a suicide. However, there is no motive. The woman was neither depressed nor suicidal."
"This stinks of Shishio Makoto," Saitou muttered through the cigarette. Several nurses hurried over to berate him. One glance at his predatory amber eyes stopped them in their tracks. Saitou flicked ash off the end, the same eyes flashing as he caught sight of a slant-eyed doctor with a long pointed nose and thin, sharply angled eyebrows.
"Our good friend Takeda Kanryuu," he muttered to Tokio. "Excuse me," drawled to Misao and Aoshi.
Tokio's smooth, dark hazel eyes followed him with a sort of satisfaction that puzzled Misao.
"One of Shishio Makoto's lesser agents, I'm afraid," she smiled to the duo.
* ~ *
"I'm gonna call Jiya," Misao grinned faintly as she jogged down the dim hallways of the deserted Shinsengumi building. "I'll tell him we're gonna camp out here tonight, since Saitou says it's safer, 'kay?"
Aoshi nodded, striding behind her evenly.
Misao sighed as she trotted down the steadily darker corridors. She failed to notice the dark, slippery substance under her feet.
Her body connected to the tile with a dull thud. "Owww," she moaned softly, bringing her hand up to touch her smarting face. What she saw there stopped her short. Her hands were covered in sticky, warm, foreign blood.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
SA: If the conversation with Okita offended anyone, I'm terribly sorry. Just keep in mind that this is fiction. I hope Misao doesn't seem too immature or uncaring. I don't want her to come off like that, but that's just kinda how it turned out… but she will change as the story progresses.
Review Responses:
LeeS DeMoN: Here it is… Sorry for the loooooong delay. V_V I guess they don't have set names… guess that means I can be creative.
len: Yep, yep – lots of secrets. Let's see how long I can keep this up.
RVD: Thank you! I'm happy to see this setting is working. Heh. She sure is. But it'll get worse before it gets better…
tesuka-chan: I think so to. When I first had the idea for this story, I was like, ooooh! Aoshi-sama would be perfect! Hopefully the scene-shifting problem is remedied in this one. *sweatdrop* I'm working on the AxM thing – they are so complicated and hard to write! Of course, part of the problem lies in RK itself – it's so good, I'm having a difficult time preserving the themes and stuff.
Digital Siren: *sweatdrop* Scene-shifting hopefully is better in this one. That comes from not checking the HTML version to make sure everything was preserved. Excuses? Who, me? Naw! ^^ Thank you so much!