Chapter 4

Clumsy Sort

For the joys and secrets I have stored

Here I lie awaiting our reward

Attention for the blessed, final count

The ties that hold your mind and lock me out

-Wye Oak, Holy Holy

Kagome was ignored for the rest of the day. It was the best thing she could have asked for. She was currently busy working herself into knots over every little thing she'd said and did in the presence of an immensely rich and eccentric billionaire. The accountant, curators, and anyone who wasn't Kagome was immersed in paperwork and more or less out of everyone else's way. Even Aaron was needed. As the rising star of the accounting department, he knew the necessary inroads to accepting a check in an amount not disclosed to the underlings. Or so he said to Kagome. They'd run into one another as Kagome hovered outside Dr. Wesley's door, waiting to see if she was needed. He jerked his head imperceptibly, motioning for her to get the hell out of dodge.

She did just that.

Wandering around the gallery for her own amusement was a rare occurrence and it was something she desperately needed because about every three to five seconds she thought about the weird as fuck day she was having. Most of the time, she resented the place too much to get any real enjoyment out of the art and pieces. She hadn't stopped to admire any of the artifacts in far too long and this was the perfect opportunity.

This was the perfect time to think about nothing at all.

…But why was he so concerned that she'd still be at the gallery? Comic relief? Doing community outreach for the less fortunate?

Distraction clearly wasn't working.

"Thanks for nothing, Monet."

The painting had nothing to say in its defense so Kagome walked into the next room.

It would be a small wonder if she could get home before 6 or 7. Experience said that the exchange of money and signatures would take far longer than necessary. She could hardly believe that Taisho was going to receive his sword that very day. That was unheard of. Although all the zeros on the paper he had handed Dr. Whate- Wesley probably sped up the process considerably. How rich was Taisho, actually? Mysterious, weird, Taisho. So good looking he made nervous- nope. No, no, no. Get it together, Higarashi.

She instinctively made her way toward the exhibit that was temporarily housing the sword. Inside the archway, she saw a crew of men working, carefully assembling the crate that would keep it safe as it was transported.

Kagome watched as they made calculations of the size and heft of the sword, careful not to touch or disturb the weapon in any way. Her eyes were drawn toward the weapon, gleaming benignly. There really was something about it that drew the eye. As she gazed at it, she thought, for just a moment, it winked at her; it's dark metal shining as if it knew her appreciative thoughts.

What a ridiculous day. She turned and walked away, a moment too late to note the sudden transparency in the blade's edges, the strange mist like substance almost visible to the naked eye, hanging in the air around it.

Somehow Kagome lasted through the rest of the day. Her hands were sweating when she and the rest of gallery staff packed themselves just inside the entrance doors, waiting expectantly. There was so much pomp and circumstance that Kagome thought they looked like the reception party for a king. She was giggling about that when Aaron sidled up next to her.

"Quite the production," he said watching Dr. Wesley actually straighten another man's tie.

"I'm still waiting for the parade to start," she whispered back.

Outside, Taisho's car arrived. He stepped out and three well-dressed men immediately surrounded him. Were they lawyers? Bodyguards?

There was a little part of her that hoped he wasn't really as strange and beautifully alien looking as she remembered. Maybe the nerves had worn off and she could act like a rational human.

But then he looked up at the gallery doors as he stopped to button his suit jacket and any defenses she had hastily built up were knocked down by a moony teenager inside her that she thought she had rid herself of a long time ago.

One of the lawyer-bodyguards opened the gallery door for Tashio, and he stepped inside, a grimace set on his handsome face. His cool eyes swept over the apprehensive intellectuals with disdain.

He really does have a thing against this gallery staff.

That didn't stop anyone from openly staring at him. Kagome even heard a woman in front of her let out a surprised gasp. She started to laugh again but just then his eyes landed on her, tucked away behind all of the more important people. His gaze flickered to Aaron who was bent slightly saying something in her ear- what, she didn't know, be quiet, Aaron, the handsome one approaches. All the sound in the room was suddenly sucked out. Tashio's eyes stayed trained on her for a beat too long and she felt Aaron ease back a step and whistle under his breath.

"That guy has knives for eyes," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth as Taisho made it to the end of the line of people.

Around her, the other staff members were shaking themselves free of their own dazes.

The odd, ethereal silence finally dissipated when Dr. Wesley rushed forward to shake Taisho's hand. He spoke quickly, asking him to come to his office to finalize paperwork.

Tashio looked down at the man, his back was now toward Kagome but she craned her head around Aaron to try and get a better view.

"I am short on time."

His voice sounded neutral but, Kagome, always perceptive, could hear the veiled disdain, the general dislike held for the curator. It made her feel a small sense of smug satisfaction.

"We'll have you on your way as soon as possible, sir!" Dr. Wesley's voice had risen 4 octaves. Kagome shook with silent laughter.

Taisho shrugged off his jacket holding it out, waiting for someone to take it from him. Immediately a half a dozen people rushed forward to take the coat.

"Is it absolutely necessary that all of these people be present for a transaction that has little, if anything, to do with them?" Taisho asked.

Kagome heard Aaron mask his own laugh with a cough.

Dr. Wesley turned fearful eyes toward his employees. Without a word they scattered, even Aaron, and headed toward their respective offices, throwing furtive glances over their shoulders. Kagome hesitated but moved along with the mildly panicked crowd. Taisho turned and spotted her through the cascade of people.

"Wait for me in the exhibit."

Before that moment Kagame didn't know that anger and elation could exist so cohesively in one person. That seemed like the mentos and coke of emotions. Yes, hurray, she was being included, acknowledged by this strange man before her, and also, boo! because she did not like the self-assured way he spoke. It was like he was giving her permission to exist in his presence. Earlier in the day he had been polite but reserved. Even then, she had sensed an air of superiority and confidence. But now, he was practically commanding.

Kagome was doing a bang up job hiding her emotions, clearly. The complacent smile that appeared just at the edge of one corner of Taisho's mouth told her that she should consider a career as a professional poker player.

But before she could open her mouth to give a smart retort, which was hovering just there, out of her reach, Taisho walked away, leaving her standing alone in the hallway.

"Well, I never!" she snapped, only after she was sure he couldn't hear her.

Down the hall, out of her sight, the man smiled.

Kagome was becoming accustomed to stalking down the hallways, the sound of her heels when her footfalls were angry, the way her hands clenched when she wished she had something to throw. She was currently resisting the urge to grab a 16th-century vase (one of Wesley's favorites, and all the more reason to smash it to bits), hurl it at the wall, and scream 'HA, take that you chauvinist pigs!'. Breathing deeply, she arrived at the exhibit and leaned against the wall, willing herself to calm down as the minutes ticked by.

"I am so tired of these pompous men telling me what to do," she huffed, blowing her long dark hair out of her eyes.

"Stop doing what they say, then." Kagome jumped and nearly did knock over a priceless piece of something. Hand on her heart, she attempted once again, to lower her blood pressure by sheer force of will. Aaron stood just behind her in the archway, briefcase in hand, jacket rumpled, ready to end his day. He cast her a lopsided grin when he saw her fright. "Peaceful protest. Start a picket line," he said.

"Don't do that!" her voice caught in her anger. "I don't like to be snuck up on! You're lucky I didn't haul off and hit you."

He held up his hands, admonished, "Sorry. I didn't mean to sneak. I actually didn't think it was possible to sneak on these floors. Everything echoes."

She rubbed her temples in exasperation. Turning toward him she pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, busying herself with something. Her temper hadn't really cooled down that much. "I was just lost in thought."

The man leaned casually on the rounded doorway. "Lost in vases and swords," he nodded to the strange weapon in the middle of the room. "Or are you mooning over ?" He did a poor job of hiding his laugh as she sputtered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sorry. It's too easy to get a rise out of you."

"Don't tease me tonight, Aaron. I really don't think my ego can take anymore. This day has been the longest and most humiliating in recent memory."

"It looked like it." She looked a question at him and he pushed himself up from the wall and walked toward her. "Tiring that is. I can't speak to the humiliating part." Readjusting his glasses he gazed down his long nose at the young woman. "I saw that look that the infamous and dashingly handsome Taisho gave you. Are you sure you aren't trying to snag yourself a billionaire?"

Rolling her eyes she pushed away the disheveled and frizzy hair that kept creeping onto her face. "I would be the last person to attempt that." To his amusement, she blushed a deep shade of red. "I don't know why he's… er- I don't know if he's even doing anything… do I?" she mumbled. "I don't know much about the billionaire, globetrotting, sword collecting sort."

"And they probably don't know much about the spitfire, curating, clumsy sort. "

Quite suddenly, Kagome was hit with the absurdity of her day. She laughed. "I am clumsy, aren't I?"

"Only a little. And perhaps the globetrotting, curating, sword collecting sort find the clumsy sort endearing."

Kagome blushed again and stammered something like "gah" or "shit". It was hard to tell.

"Well, in any case, I'm starving. Maybe after you're finished being at Mr. Billionaire's beck and call-"

"I'm at no one's beck and call, Aaron Michaels," she jabbed her finger into his chest, punctuating every word, appearing more like an obstinate child than a grown woman. She was mostly kidding but there was a very real part of her that was about to go apeshit on the next man that told her what to do.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you, I was actually trying to ask you if you'd like to go-" And just then the thundering echo of many feet interrupted them. Mr. Taisho, his lawyer, two bodyguards, and the men who would box and carry the sword all appeared from the opposite hallway."…To dinner with me…" Aaron said under his breath, but Kagome didn't hear.

Taisho leveled a piercing look at them and, although he was far across the room and it was nearly impossible, Aaron was certain the other man had heard him.

"Mr. Michaels, Ms. Higurashi, would please wrap up this soap opera? You don't need to be in here and we wouldn't want to waste Mr. Taisho's time."

Aaron moved to leave. Kagome haltingly pushed away from the wall.

"Stay, Ms. Higurashi." Taisho's voice was soft but full of authority. Kagome glanced at Aaron who frowned but only paused for a moment before melting into the dim hallway, giving her a little wave as he went.

Everyone in the room hovered awkwardly.

"Don't you have a sword to give me?" Taisho asked, slicing the moment in two. At this, the men jumped into action. He nodded to his bodyguards and they excused themselves to the hallway. Dr. Wesley lingered over the sword, watching as it was handled, whispering frantic admonishments and encouragements.

Kagome watched the men work, stealing glances at Taisho every few seconds. When he finally looked back at her again she nearly turned and ran. There was something about him, the way he carried himself that was almost regal. And his authority and command of a room bordered on frightening. Earlier in the day she could sense it. Now though, his presence nearly took her breath away. He took a step toward her and then faced the sword's display, watching the handling of his newest acquisition. Kagome surveyed him as he stood, hands clasped behind his back, feet spread to balance his weight evenly. He held himself like that a warrior. Her imaginative mind saw him dressed for battle, kingly, the sword at his hip. She blinked rapidly, she was suddenly feeling a bit light headed. If Taisho noticed, he didn't let on; his gaze merely flickered to her and back to the commotion in front of them.

"Do you know anything about the sword?"

Kagome rubbed her forehead, struggling to bring the present into focus. "No," she said distractedly, still pushing away her overactive imagination. "I'm sorry," she murmured, as her thoughts cleared. She looked up at his profile, "I don't. I'd love to learn about it. I've been remiss in the research department lately. You know, too busy building my empire of copies and coffee."

"An empire? Then you will find this particular sword's history interesting."

Kagome rubbed her hand across her forehead again, the strange fuzzy feeling didn't want to leave. She felt blurred around her edges. "Would I?"

"It was commissioned in Japan about 500 years ago. Little is known about the person who commissioned it. Legend says it was a great and powerful warlord of the west. The story says he requested it from a little-known sword master of the east. It is unique for both its design and its durability. If what the scholars say is true, it has held up remarkably well given its years."

"I'll say," she heard her voice whisper.

A sudden, sharper headache at her right temple; her hand moved to touch the aching area just as an image in her mind rushed forward. The exhibit in front of her, the man next to her, and the sword before her disappeared. She was looking at a forge, anvils, mallets, and the heat of fire shimmering in the air. It was dark inside the room. Her vision looked upward. Rotting beams of dark wood shrunken from the elements allowed narrow shafts of golden sunlight to filter down into the dark. Dust danced across the light, mingling with the red glow from the fires and the forges. She could feel the heat rising as she took a step. Sweat broke out on her forehead. There. In a darker corner. Sudden bursts of red blazed and sparks shot out into the room. It was difficult to make out anything in detail, but she could see a man's back, bare to the air and heat. He was sweating from the fires and the exertion needed to slam the anvil down on the red-hot metal before him. He turned, his heavily gloved hand wrapped around the sword, still glowing, not completely formed. The man looked up at her, or rather, past her, and nodded his acknowledgment. She turned. There was someone at her back.

Her vision began to blur. As the scene melted away, she was able to see an open door spilling forth-white sunlight, the dark shadow of a man framed there.

Kagome gasped, suddenly thrust back into the gallery. To her right, she saw Taisho looking at her sharply.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, swaying a little on her feet. "Oh, I'm fine. Is it me or is it a little hot in here?"

Taisho looked up at the spotlights, seeking the source of her discomfort. "I find it adequate."

Kagome pulled her hair off of her neck, watching distractedly as the men carefully removed the glass case around the sword. She fanned her face absently, more concerned than she hoped she was letting on. "You do not look well."

She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. Looking up she forced a smile, "I'm fine. Just a headache."

She sincerely hoped it was just a headache. In her chest, the fluttery wings of panic brushed against her lungs and heart. Tashio took his hand from her shoulder to check the watch on his wrist. "Perhaps you are suffering from hunger."

The men handling the sword were speaking quietly to one another, carefully picking the blade up with gloved hands, depositing it into the box.

"Perhaps."

They were quiet for a moment. As Taisho watched the men pack his sword away, he finally turned his eyes back to Kagome.

"Are you truly interested in learning more about the weapon?" There was some emotion in his voice that caught her attention. Focus, Kagome, get your head in the game. She turned her still unfocused eyes on him.

There was an intensity that he gazed at her with as if her answer were to make all the difference. Like he was balancing on the edge of a precipice and she would either push him over or save him from the edge.

But make all the difference to what? To whom? Apparently, she thought, as he continued to state are her, it made all the difference to him.

"I'd be lying if I said I've always been interested in this particular sword. But it's piqued my curiosity. Even more so now thanks to your story. That's part of the beauty of archeology: uncovering lost truths."

The man nodded, he was thinking. She could tell by the way his eyes drifted.

"I know more about the sword. More than a book or a historian could ever tell you."

She rubbed the back of her neck; it still felt hot in the room. "I don't doubt that. You seem to take your history and your artifacts seriously."

He took a half step in and leaned a little closer to her. His back was mostly to the men, obstructing part of Kagame's view of the proceedings. "You are very interesting. Your curiosity in the sword is interesting. It's not often that I find someone who appreciates something that I do, as fully as I do. That is a very rare find. May I make a suggestion?"

She nodded, lost for words. He moved even closer, leaning down until his mouth was next to her ear. Kagame sucked in a breath as all her nerves blared 'a handsome man incoming warning' to the rest of her. Don't move. Don't spaz. Everybody stay absolutely still.

"You are tired and hungry," his voice dropped to a whisper, "since you are so interesting and so interested you should accompany me to dinner this evening, where, I am sure, if you desired, you could learn much about the weapon before you… among other things."

Other things like what, like what?! Inner Teenage Kagame crowed.

Meanwhile, her mouth worked but wouldn't actually form words. And really, what did he expect when he was practically making out with her ear? Coherent sentences? Please.

"Is that a yes?" The confidence in his voice snapped her out of wordlessness. He pulled back far enough for her to see his face.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Taisho-"

"Good. You may ride with me in my-"

She shifted back, removing herself from his immediate presence, a more suitable distance, room to breathe, "However, I have to decline."

It was barely noticeable, but he faltered ever so slightly. Internally, Kagome high-fived herself. He wasn't the only one capable of surprises! He looked absolutely shocked. He wasn't used to being told 'no'. In fact, she could reasonably presume, given the look on his face, which he was quickly composing, he had probably never been turned down by a woman. Kagome felt the tiniest boost of confidence.

"You must decline?" he asked, slowly, the cogs in that handsome brain of his working overtime. "Why? What could possibly be of more interest to you?"

"My dog."

If he had been a different man, one who wasn't accustomed to controlling his emotions in a vise-like grip, she would have expected him to open his mouth wide, incredulous, and then in an attempt to collect his thoughts, place his hand over his mouth, narrow his eyes at her, turn, walk a few feet away, a hand on his hip, and walk back toward her, still, with nothing to say. As it was, he prevented himself from doing all but one of those. The mental image of a flummoxed Taisho was one she folded up and stored away for another day when her embarrassment soared to new heights and her confidence fell to negative numbers.

His eyes narrowed, disbelieving "Your dog?"

"Yes. He needs to be fed and let out. I never leave him alone for more than a few hours. He wouldn't understand if I didn't come home."

Taisho glowered at her for a moment.

"Did you drive to work?"

Her answer was hesitant, "Yes."

"You will drive to your home and then my driver will pick you up. Unless you have other objections I assume you willingly accept my invitation."

She gaped at him. His confidence had returned.

"Well, I-I- I don't know, I have work tomorrow and I'm feeling a little dizzy-"

"Ms. Higurashi," he straightened his jacket, attitude suddenly careless, "Tell me your address. If you leave now, you will have plenty of time to take care of your animal."

"But I-"

"What is there to lose? What would you gain by giving me an hour or two of your time? It will be an adventure."

Kagame's heart clenched painfully. He had to go and say that, didn't he? But then, she had spent all her mental energy lately trying to settle on the perfect hand grenade she could toss into her life to mix up the monotony. Hadn't she said she wanted an adventure? Just a little?

"Your address?" he prompted again. Before she could stop herself recklessness took hold and she told him. "You will be picked up at 7:00."

"I just want to point out that I didn't actually acce-"

He turned his attention to the men who were now picking up the crate and placing it on a cart.

"What you are wearing is perfectly acceptable attire for our destination. I will see you at the restaurant."

And with that, he stepped forward and engaged Dr. Wesley in conversation. Kagome, in a daze, turned and walked into the hallway, passed the bodyguards, and walked into her office. She paused, feeling odd. Her desire to learn about the sword was currently overwhelming her desire to finally make good on all her shin kicking threats. She'd pay good money to see that man hopping around one footed in his suit and tie. The nerve. She pressed a hand to her eyes. Her head was still swimming. She felt as if she had just spun around in her office chair, and was only now beginning to see straight. But the confusion, wonder, and questions slipped right out of her mind again when an image of the sword formed without her prompting. She needed Tylenol. And a stiff drink. A mood-altering drug or two. And a hug.

But, she supposed he was right. What was the worst that could happen? It was just dinner.

Deciding, 'to hell with monotony!' she hurried out of the gallery and to her car, hoping she had enough time to take care of Ajax. She also hoped Taisho was ready for the after work hours Kagome. She may or may not have been lacing up her boxing gloves, ready to give him a piece of her mind.