Author's Note: Hello, dearest readers. I know that it has once again taken me about a century to get the next chapter done, but no need to panic, here it is! I'm actually pretty proud of it, it's longer than normal and I wasn't expecting it. I guess I just got my flow back, thank goodness. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it and don't forget to review my humble offering! It really does mean the world to me when you do.
Japanese Terms:
Aishiteru- I love you
Aishiteru-desu– I love you too
Chapter Eleven
Aoshi felt like he was drifting to the surface of a very deep pool. At first there was only darkness as thick and heavy as molasses, weighing down his limbs and making it hard to move. Then suddenly a tiny spot of light flickered at the edge of his vision. He snatched at it, terrified that it might disappear and leave him lost in this oblivion.
He found himself in a soft bed, light filtering in through half closed curtains and the smell of hospital antiseptic permeating the room. He groaned softly, trying in vain to turn his head away, closing his eyes against the flash of pain that ensued. The sound he made had apparently alerted whoever was present to his waking and there was an immediate flurry of activity.
Either the lights were turned on or the curtains were opened, Aoshi couldn't be sure, but everything was suddenly brighter when he next opened his eyes. The unmistakable figure of Hannya was leaning over him, a roll of bandages in one hand and a bottle of a suspicious looking yellow liquid in the other. He lay perfectly still as the Oniwabanshu member began to tend to his wounds, placing a small amount of the liquid on the cuts that covered his chest and arms. None of them were very deep, but the blade had been aimed perfectly to coincide with the places which bled the most. He was horrified by how hard it was to maintain his control and not flinch as the ointment stung viciously on contact. He had endured worse pain, far worse, and yet it took all his power of will not to wince or make a noise.
'You lost a lot of blood, Aoshi-sama,' Hannya informed him in a low voice. 'The wounds you sustained were minor but taken together they were very nearly fatal.'
Aoshi understood that this was supposed to appease him, to absolve him of the sin of weakness. He had lost a lot of blood, he could not be expected to be in top condition.
Suddenly, It hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath from his lungs. Everything that had happened played out in his head like a movie.
'Misao,' he managed to choke out.
He needed to know, and yet was half terrified to find out.
'They took her, Aoshi-sama,' Hannya said quietly, concentrating studiously on his work and allowing his Okashira the privacy of his own feelings.
Aoshi let the anguish reign and take over for only a moment before replacing his icy mask, but it was enough. He took hold of the fear, the guilt, and molded it, making it into something productive and so much more powerful. Rage, white hot and boiling. Was his Misao dead? The injury she had taken for him had been very near lethal and, with the blood loss, if she didn't get medical care very soon, she would fade away within a day at most. However, whether or not she died didn't change the fate of those who had taken her from him. They would all die, every last one of them.
The door crashed open, hitting the wall beside it hard enough to imprint the handle in its surface.
'You promised me, Okashira,' Battousai roared. 'You said that if they found us I should send her back to you. You said she would be protected and you failed. For that lie you will pay with your life.'
Battousai's face was feral in its fury, teeth bared and eyes flaming amber. His hair, tied back in its samurai knot, shone like fire in the light, giving him an almost demonic look. He drew his katana with a ring of metal and started forwards, only to be stopped by Hannya placing himself between the assassin and his weakened leader. It was a mark of true loyalty, even love, and, if Battousai had been less distracted by his terror for Kaoru, he would have been impressed by the Okashira's ability to engender an affection deep enough to sacrifice life.
'Move aside, Hannya,' Aoshi said in a tone that could have frozen the Sahara desert. 'The Battousai has his right to revenge, but by taking it he will lose his ally and the location of his woman.'
There was silence for a moment that seemed to draw out infinitely. The word was hissed through clenched teeth.
'Where?'
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Kaoru was very confused. She had fully expected to be taken to a cold dungeon room with only barred windows and a hard stone floor for company. Instead she was seated on an old fashioned canopied bed surrounded by plush pillows.
The room was beautifully furnished with what looked like real antiques. A huge dark wood wardrobe took up most of the far wall and in one corner a red velvet armchair was placed snuggly in front of the crackling fire which was taking the nip out of the otherwise chilly room.
This turn of events was just too strange. Who kept their prisoner in a room like this? Except, of course, Battousai.
It was a pity she could not enjoy it. After leaving the eerily empty Oniwabanshu safe house, they had travelled in luxurious comfort to this compound. Kaoru had noted landmarks along the way, sure that given the opportunity she could find her way back. Yet all the time she knew it was useless, that the fact that her view had not been restricted meant she would never be given the chance.
She had been separated from Misao as soon as they had entered the main mansion, but not before dislocating one guard's shoulder and nearly clawing out the eyes of another. It had finally needed Soujiro, who up until that point had been observing the scene dispassionately, to step in and take charge of the escalating situation. He had informed her that if she wanted her friend to survive then keeping Misao with her was not the optimum means of achieving it. Before more than basic steps could be taken to help the young woman, Kaoru would have to discuss the matter with his master and, until this meeting could be arranged, Misao would be better taken care of in the medical wing.
She was told in the monotone that she now realised was simply Soujiro's tone no matter the circumstances that Misao would not be allowed to die until his master had made his decision about her and so she had acquiesced to be led away. She had no other choice.
So now she was trapped in this gilded cage, terrified that she had made a horrible mistake in trusting a boy whose emotionless nature demonstrated the lie that was Aoshi's cold façade, but knowing that she could have nothing else.
Unable to bear waiting any longer, she slipped off the bed and padded silently across the silk shag carpet, feet sinking into it with each step. Her mind told her it was futile to check the bedroom door, no one would be stupid enough not to restrain her and also leave the exit wide open. Yet her father had always taught her to check out every available escape route. Apparently, her father was right and her captors really were that stupid. The door opened without so much as a creak to give her away.
She slowly peaked outside, ready to pull back as soon as she caught any movement. There was nothing but an empty corridor painted in varying shades of cream and gold. She should have been elated at the open escape route, but all Kaoru felt was physically sick, a wave of panic rising within her and forcing, for a moment, all coherent thought from her mind. Why would her kidnappers, who had taken so much trouble to get their hands on her, not even bother to try to restrain her? Even Battousai had chained her to the bed to keep her in place. Admittedly, his attempt had failed but at least he had tried. She could think of only one answer to her question. They didn't need to. Whatever they had beyond this bedroom was bad enough to make them confident she was going nowhere and she was fairly certain she didn't want to find out what that was.
The urge to scream in frustration was immense. Why did this always have to happen to her? Did she have a big kidnap me sign stuck to her back that no one had told her about? All the same, some deep instinct told her that bolting out into this unknown would end very badly. Only, Misao was out there somewhere, gravely injured and needing her. She couldn't just abandon her friend, not after everything the young ninja had done for her.
Kaoru took a deep breath and screwed her courage to the sticking place. She would find her friend and they would both get out of here together. Stepping out into the neutral shades of the corridor, she was forced to stop. For all her new bravado, she had no idea which direction to follow and, in the end, fell back on the leave it to fate technique she used so often.
'Eeny, Meeny, Miny…'
'Mo,' a male voice cut in and she spun to find a tall young man leaning against the wall next to her, a cocky grin oddly reminiscent of Sano's spread across his face.
She stared at him, taking in the strangeness of his appearance. His blonde hair was spiked up at a gravity-defying angle that she doubted gel alone could manage, a purple head-band aiding it in its efforts. The lurid orangey red suit and purple tie he wore clashed hideously with each other and the elegant cream surroundings, making her want to wince in pain.
'Whatcha up to, Darlin'?' He asked in a southern drawl, lifting his eyebrows questioningly.
Her mind reeled for a way out, screaming conflicting answers at her. Run now, stay and talk your way out of it, beat him to a pulp! Finally she went with none of them.
'I'm doing that.'
She pointed over his shoulder down the corridor and as he turned his head to look, she flew back inside her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. It was only a simple lock with a turn switch under the door handle. It would hold all of two minutes, but there wasn't anything else she could do. She doubted running would have helped, probably ending in inevitable capture, and she had no idea what staying would have led to, but without a weapon as back up she didn't really relish finding out.
Her eyes searched the room frantically for some place to hide, since escape was out of the question with no windows to speak of. The first thump of a body against wood sent her into panic. Dashing to the large wardrobe, she threw the doors open, only to find that it was so packed with silk and satin that a body could never fit in between. She couldn't empty the clothing without obviously giving her hiding place away.
Ready to scream now, she turned from it, finding only the bed in front of her. The thought of hiding under the covers like a child afraid of the monster under the bed made hysterical giggles rise in her throat. She stamped them down angrily and then it suddenly popped into her head. The only other place to hide was under the bed.
The door rattled against the force of the blow it received as she slipped under the cover hanging over the edge of the bed, blocking the view of what lay beneath. The door finally succumbed to the heavy blows it was taking and gave way with a creaking groan. She kept perfectly still, even holding her breath, hoping against hope that the guy was as stupid as he seemed.
The moments dragged on into what felt like hours while she waited. She couldn't lift the cover to check his whereabouts without possibly giving herself away and the soft carpet muffled his steps so she had no idea what he was doing or where. Her heart hammered against her ribs with such violence that it physically hurt and her eyes started to fill with unwanted tears. Why was it always her? It seemed like she never stopped running and hiding anymore. She used to stand up for herself, fight against those who thought they could intimidate her, but not any more. A little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she had never had to face anything like this in the past, a few drunken lechers and muggers, yes, but never heavily armed kidnappers truly capable of doing anything.
Everything inside her seemed to freeze as the cover slowly lifted and she was faced with the almost comical upside down view of Mr. Bad-dress-sense.
'That's not a very imaginative hiding place, Darlin',' he leered.
Kaoru saw red, losing control of her cognitive functions. The first comeback that popped into her mind came flying out of her mouth unbidden.
'Yeah, well at least I don't look like I have a broom for hair.'
Shaking his head, he gave her a look of hurt.
'Sugah, this isn't just hair, it's art.'
She laughed, a high pitched sound, half fear, half derision.
'Really, really bad art.'
He chuckled, reaching under the bed and grabbing her by the arm.
'You got a smart mouth on you, little lady, it'll get you into trouble one of these days and, hey, what do ya know it might just be today.'
There was no point in struggling as he dragged her out. He was ten times stronger than she was. It would only end in carpet burns and a waste of energy. She didn't make it easier on him either though, dropping the tension in her limbs and letting her body become dead weight. The guy didn't even break a sweat, lifting her completely off her feet before dropping her suddenly and rather unceremoniously on the ground.
'The Boss man would like a word with you, Darlin'.'
He smirked cockily as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started to lead her out of the door. Kaoru resisted the urge to elbow him in the sternum, not trusting that his arm wouldn't just accidentally tighten enough to cut off her airway.
She paid close attention to their route as he led her down endless cream coloured corridors, but after a while she realised that the map she was supposedly building in her head was useless. Left, right, through the second door on the right next to the potted fern, down a long set of stairs, on and on into infinity. Even Battousai's fortress had had some defining features, markers on which to base her position, but this place was one identical plush pale couch and sparkling stainless steel table after another.
Finally, they came upon a breathtaking gallery. One wall was taken up entirely with floor to ceiling bay windows, allowing the light filtering through the leaves of the cherry blossom trees in the orchard outside to dapple the beech wood floor. The opposite wall was lined with beautifully framed portraits, depicting a variety of scenes from somber gentleman to vibrantly dressed ladies.
There was only one other entrance at the other end of the long room, but it seemed to dominate over the simple elegance of its surroundings. The set of ceiling high double doors in a heavy looking wood, carved to portray the trials of Hercules, were clearly more expensive than her apartment and its contents put together.
She told herself she was not intimidated by the grandeur. After all she had grown up with the same luxuries, seen far more impressive demonstrations of wealth. Unfortunately, the change in circumstances made this show just a little scarier.
Mr. Broomhead came to a halt right in front of the doors and stood there, his arm resting comfortably round her shoulders. She waited, not at all in a hurry to encounter what lay beyond, but when the seconds ticked by and nothing happened she began to get antsy. Then he spoke, so quietly she was forced to hold her breath because the sound drowned out his words.
'You know, you're mouthy. I like that in a lady, so I'm gonna give you a little friendly advice, Darlin'. Whatever the Boss man asks for the answer is "yes."'
As if on cue the doors swung wide open, revealing a ballroom at least twice the size of Battousai's, all gleaming floors and elegant sofas. At first Kaoru could have sworn it was empty, the noise of the opening doors resounding in the silent room, but then out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something, or more precisely someone, lying spread across one of the seats.
The sound of her scream joined the echoes, her mind reeling against the shock of what she saw. They had lied. Misao was not safe in the medical wing. She was flopped in a grotesque facsimile of leisure against the cushions of a chaise longue, one arm hanging off the side so that the fingers trailed against the floor. An IV drip hung from a stand beside it, snaking down into her wrist, and bandages only slightly paler than her skin were wrapped tightly around her waist. A dark red stain marred the pure white of the cloth from one shoulder down to her hip and her breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible. They had done barely the minimum.
Everything became a blur and, next thing Kaoru knew, she was on her knees beside Misao's prone body, sobbing incoherently as she brushed her hand across her friend's hair.
'Misao! Oh Kami, please don't die,' she whispered.
She jumped as a hand squeezed her shoulder. It was probably meant as a comforting gesture, but it failed miserably in its attempt. The heat from the touch burned even through her layer of clothing and made her skin crawl. However, when she tensed, the owner didn't move it the way most people would at the obvious sign of discomfort.
Kaoru turned her head just a little and regarded the hand, a look of distaste flitting across her face. The limb was completely bandaged except for the fingers and she really wished they had been. A mottled dark brown, they were wrinkled as though they should have been an aged man's and she recognised them instantly. When she was sixteen years old they had given her nightmares for weeks after she had had to shake the hand they belonged to. It wasn't the hand of a kindly old gentleman. It was the hand of a man who had nearly been assassinated in a vicious arson attack ten years ago.
Swallowing back the bile that was rising in her throat, she followed the progress of the bandages up the arm to meet the eyes of her kidnapper. She remembered once being told that the bandages covered his entire body, although right now a beautifully tailored designer label suit hid them from view.
'Shishio-sama.'
He nodded his head regally and smiled. At least she assumed it was supposed to be a smile. It was half hidden by the cloth wrapped around his face, making it appear more of a grimace than anything else.
'Miss Kamiya, thank you for obliging me with your visit,' he said in his deep voice. 'I very much appreciate it.'
Kaoru didn't bother to mention that she hadn't really had much choice in coming. It was pretty clear he knew perfectly well how she had got there.
She absently touched Misao's hand, gently rubbing it in a soothing manner more for her benefit than that of her unconscious friend.
'I had my associate invite you here to discuss a little business transaction, Miss Kamiya.'
Shishio gestured casually over his shoulder to where Soujiro was standing stiffly by a small side entrance, legs slightly apart and hands behind his back. His katana was still hanging menacingly from a belt at his waist and the large plastic grin he had worn after slicing open Misao's chest was still spread across his face. The urge to tear it off was almost irresistible.
'Perhaps,' she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. 'Perhaps I might request that my friend could get some medical attention, while we…um…discuss.'
Shishio shook his head, looking regretful.
'I'm afraid that will not be possible. For the moment, as you can see, we have done all we can for her. The flow of her wound has been stemmed as best we can. Further medical assistance will depend entirely on your decision.'
'My decision?' She queried. 'I don't think I quite understand you.'
'She isn't very intelligent, Shishio-sama, are you sure you wish to link yourself with her?'
A dark haired woman appeared at Shishio's side, draping herself over him and looking down her nose at Kaoru's position on the floor. Her traditional crimson kimono was barely clinging to her shoulders and looked ready at any moment to drop down and reveal things Kaoru for one really didn't want to see. Shishio, from what she could tell through the bandages, was not overly pleased at her interruption either.
'Miss Kamiya, may I introduce my assistant, Yumi, who, might I add, is just leaving,' Shishio said a little tersely, placing heavy emphasis on the words "assistant" and "leaving."
Yumi made a disgusted noise, too elegant to be a snort and too much like a snort to be described as anything else, and glided away, her sandals making only the lightest tapping noise on the polished floor. Soujiro helpfully opened the door for her as she passed, closing it firmly in her wake.
'Forgive my assistant, Miss Kamiya. She can be a little,' he paused as if trying to find the right word. 'temperamental, shall we say.'
Shishio held out one of his burned hands to her and, when she took it reluctantly, helped her to stand.
'Let us get back to business. I believe time is of the essence if we are to help Miss Makimachi.'
He led her over to the windows overlooking the sloping manicured lawns beyond and stood a moment looking out. He didn't appear in any hurry to explain his transaction or save Misao.
'Miss Kamiya, I am a wealthy man, in fact, I am officially the wealthiest man in this country. I am capable of taking very good care of what is mine.'
Kaoru waited, trying to hold onto the threads of her patience. Had he not just said himself that Misao's life was hanging in the balance? If she was going to have to make a decision that would save or kill her friend she would much prefer to make it sooner rather than later. Seeing this, Shishio appeared to change tactics.
'I am going to come straight to the point, my dear. In return for my aiding your friend, you will give me your hand in marriage.'
Whatever Kaoru had been expecting Shishio to have kidnapped her for, this particular idea had never occurred to her. Suddenly, Yumi's attitude and words made sense. Apparently, the lady who was clearly Shishio's mistress, was understandably unhappy with his proposed plan to marry another woman.
'Why?' She asked without preamble.
Shishio raised an eyebrow in silent question and she clarified.
'Why do you wish to marry me, a woman who you have met perhaps twice and only at social functions where we could never have got to know one another?'
At her words, a mask seemed to drop away and the real Shishio came to the surface.
'You think I might have fallen in love with you?' He laughed sneeringly, looking her up and down. 'You flatter yourself, Miss Kamiya. Your father's company is large and very profitable, I simply wish to expand my empire by absorbing it. A claim by marriage is far stronger than a mere business deal. Not to mention, I was told you would no doubt stop the transaction from occurring if you discovered my rather disreputable company was involved. I was trying to make this easier on us all by pretending you have a choice.'
He moved away and started across the room to where Soujiro and Mr. Bad-dress-sense were waiting, before turning back to face her.
'It is no mistake that Miss Makimachi was brought here, Miss Kamiya. She is a visual aid. You will marry me or your friend will die slowly and painfully. I understand that this will be a hard decision to make, so I will give you a few moments.'
With that said, all three men left the room.
Kaoru stood by the windows for long moments simply staring at nothing. Her mind, which had already been put under a lot of strain, could not seem to process this new overload.
Finally, she moved dazedly back to where Misao was lying and slipped down onto the floor beside her. The stain had grown a little larger and the drip needed changing. She was running out of time.
'Don't worry,' she whispered quietly, stroking Misao's hair. 'Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to get you help. You're going to be fine, honey, just hang in there for me. Just hang in there.'
Kaoru began to rock gently backwards and forwards, wrapping her arms around herself as she cried. She felt as if she was coming apart inside. Misao was dying, Battousai was Kami knew where, who even knew if Aoshi had survived his injuries. She was alone, horribly and terrifyingly alone.
The double doors to the room slid open once again and she could hear footsteps behind her.
'Shishio-sama, you called me?'
Kaoru whirled round, recognising the voice instantly.
'Uncle Takeda!' She cried, picking herself up off the floor and hurling herself into his arms. 'Please, you have to help me. Misao needs a doctor and this madman is trying to force me to marry him. We need to get out of here quickly before he and his flunkies comes back.'
Kanryu stood stiffly for a moment, neither holding her nor pushing her away. Then, to her shock and horror he began to laugh, not just that, but laugh hard so that he had to move away and put his hands on his knees to keep from toppling over. It took him at least a minute to calm down enough to form a coherent sentence.
'You think I would help you? Koshijiro's spoilt brat?' He finally snarled. 'You are just as naïve as your father. I am surprised it has taken this long for you to face the same fate.'
Kaoru looked at him stunned, before blurting out.
'My father died in a car accident.'
Kanryu snorted with laughter, shaking his head.
'Your father was a meddling fool. He had no idea when a good thing was in his hands. Do you know he was planning to close down the company? Our company, the one I spent years of blood, sweat and tears helping him to build? All because his bratty little daughter wouldn't look at him the way he wanted her to. I mean really, he should just have bought you a pony and been done with it, but no he couldn't stand the idea that you might not approve of him. Did he think of me at all? What I might need in all of this? No, not once did he come up to me and ask how his idea would affect me. I was going to lose millions, more than millions, I was going to lose my knee caps to a drug lord, if I didn't keep my job. Koshijiro deserved everything he got.'
Kaoru swallowed around the anger that was building steadily within her. She had a feeling she knew where Kanryu was taking this and she was going to kill him when he said it.
'What did you do?'
Kanryu laughed once again, a harsh grating sound that set her teeth on edge.
'Perhaps your father should have been a little more cautious with his car. You can run out of brake fluid so quickly.'
Kaoru lost all control. This was the last straw, the last nail in the coffin of her sanity. Flinging herself at him, she used every ounce of strength, biting and clawing at his flesh, tearing his clothes and drawing blood. She only wished she had her bokken, broken bones would have been far more satisfying. Only one thing made sense in her mind right at that moment, this man must suffer, suffer such pain that he could no longer think or feel past his own agony.
Suddenly, to her great disappointment, she was yanked up and off Kanryu's screaming form. Seized from behind, her arms were pinned to her sides, leaving her hanging in the air legs flailing. She couldn't help feeling like a scolded kitten held by the scruff of her neck. She cursed violently and fluently, struggling against the grip, her eyes never leaving the bleeding man on the floor.
Kanryu lay for a moment curled up in a ball, motionless and whimpering. Then when he realised that Kaoru had been successfully restrained, he got up and wiped himself down, sending her a superior glare.
'I am going to enjoy seeing Shishio-sama put you in your place, you little brat. This is an Armani suit you just ruined, you know.'
He held up the torn jacket for emphasis, before throwing it away from him as if it had been soiled by her touch.
'And while you get your come-uppance, including a little torture I hope, I will be basking in my share of an even larger company. You know I planned it all, don't you? Your father's tragic demise, your marriage to Shishio. I had to do a little extra work when that assassin got involved, hiring that ninja group to ferry you around out of Battousai's reach until Shishio-sama was ready for you. You always do make things more complicated than they need to be.'
He wandered over to her and stroked her cheek in a pseudo-affectionate gesture. The touch felt clammy and made her want to be sick. In response to the unwanted sensation, she spat in his face. A chuckle reverberated against her back and she couldn't help grinning from ear to ear.
'You little…'
Kanryu raised his hand, ready to give her a vicious slap, which would undoubtedly have hurt with the number of rings on his fingers, but someone gripped his arm in what looked like a painful way and prevented him from doing so.
'My master does not wish further injury to come to his bride. The wedding pictures, Mr. Kanryu, must be flawless,' a cheerful voice informed them and she looked up into the smiling face of Seta Soujiro. 'He is in the other room and has invited you to come and take tea with him.'
Soujiro waved gracefully towards the door everyone seemed to be going through and, never slackening his grip on the man's arm, left Kanryu no choice but to follow him.
'You are the fool, Takeda,' Kaoru spat at his retreating back. 'Do you really think Shishio is going to let you have anything? He wants it all and a little wimp like you is not going to get in his way.'
Kanryu looked over his shoulder at her, laughing heartily, but she saw a flicker of doubt beginning to form in his eyes and that was all she could wish for and more. He would see his end coming from a great distance now.
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Blood dripped from every surface and Battousai was working on painting the final wall. It was not all his work, however. He stepped carefully around one of the decomposing bodies on the floor. It was clear that Jinei was devolving at a rapid rate, his capacity to function as a normal human being steadily drowning beneath the creeping rot of his madness. He was not even attempting to dispose of the bodies of his women any more. If Battousai hadn't been so focused on his task he would have wondered why the Ishin Shishi had not yet heard of this and taken him out.
Jinei was balancing on the tips of his toes, his shoulder pinned to the wall by Battousai's katana. If he came down out of his precarious stance, the weapon would tear up through the muscle and bone of his shoulder and leave him mutilated. The man didn't seem overly concerned by this, however, simply continuing in the same way as he had for the last hour, laughing increasingly loudly until the sound bounced back off the walls magnifying his insanity.
'Where is she, Jinei?' Battousai asked for the ten thousandth time. 'Tell me now.'
Jinei cocked his head to one side and said exactly what he said every single time. Nothing. The other man knew where Shishio was. He had worked for him, had done some of his dirty work before his lunacy had made him a liability and he'd been forced to disappear or be removed. Makoto did not mind sadism, in fact he preferred a certain brutality to his men, but inefficiency and carelessness were insupportable.
With a roar of fury, Battousai drew his katana out of the wall and up, slicing its way out of Jinei's body with another gush of blood.
'Tell me now or you die. The world will thank me for it anyway,' Battousai snarled by his ear.
Jinei just kept cackling.
'Battousai, I have got what we need.'
The man in question turned from where he had just skewered Jinei's other shoulder to look at Aoshi. The Oniwabanshu leader regarded the scene with emotionless eyes. While his companion had been taking out some of his fury and frustration on the serial killer, he had been searching the hideout for information. Aoshi had found it in the form of a picture which Shishio undoubtedly did not know Jinei had obtained. Perhaps, the crazy man had not deteriorated as much as they'd thought. It showed the exact location of Makoto's estate and was probably his insurance plan in case of attack. The Ishin Shishi and the Shinsengumi had been searching for the bandaged man for a long time.
'I know where they are.'
Battousai nodded, removing his katana and swiftly decapitating his prey. The head thumped to the floor and rolled away into a corner. The laughter still resounded in the room. He ignored it, already moving towards Aoshi before the body hit the ground, flicking his wrist expertly to get rid of the blood coating the shiny metallic surface of his katana.
Flakes of snow were beginning to fall from the darkening sky as they exited. Battousai felt a sick sense of déjà vu as he crunched across the layers already coating the ground. He would paint this pure white red before the end of this day.
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Kaoru stood in front of the full-length mirror, watching as the maids fiddled with the folds of her white wedding kimono. She had already been fitted for a beautiful deep red one embroidered with intricate designs of flowers she would be wearing at the wedding reception. It lay spread in its splendor on the bed and all she wanted to do was crumple it up or tear it apart.
Her hair was already perfectly arranged with shining gold combs and her make up done, but she couldn't find any joy in the way she looked. Your wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of your life, the mild cold feet, the walking down the aisle to your beloved who would watch with love and adoration, the profession of your eternal devotion with the sudden knowledge that, despite being uncertain earlier, this was exactly the right thing to do.
Misao was hanging on to life by a thread in that ballroom, waiting for her to say the words that would save her. She would have done it immediately, but Shishio had insisted that the ceremony be done properly, full costume and all. It was just another demonstration of his sadism. He had promised her friend would live through the ceremony, but how could she be sure? Misao had looked as though she were barely clinging to the edge of the abyss.
A tear slipped down her cheek and one of the maids dabbed it away, not making eye contact as she fixed the damage to the make up which successfully covered the marks on her face, the reminders of the battle at Battousai's mansion.
There had been a time when Kaoru had expected to have the perfect wedding to the perfect man. In fact she had been certain that just before all these disastrous events occurred Kenshin had been about to propose to her.
The fairy lights covering the yacht twinkled in the still water below, making it appear as if there were stars all around them. Kenshin had decked out a table with candles, flowers and gourmet food. Classical music played somewhere in the background as they ate, adding to the effect of serenity and romance.
Kaoru smiled at her red haired boyfriend across the table, reaching across to take his hand. He had been acting fidgety all evening, beginning sentences only to trail off and restart on an entirely different topic.
'This has been the best date of my life, Kenshin,' she whispered, entwining their fingers. 'You must have put so much effort into this, the flowers, the carriage ride, the yacht, I don't think I can thank you enough.'
Kenshin smiled the goofy grin that always lit up her day and lifted her hand to his lips.
'You do not need to thank Sessha, Kaoru-dono, that you don't. You deserve to be given all of this and so much more. Sessha just wishes he deserved you.'
She frowned, disentangling her hand from his so she could bat it gently.
'Don't you dare talk like that Himura Kenshin, you are a wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend who has given me nothing but joy,' she paused, calming herself. 'If anything, I don't deserve a great guy like you.'
Kenshin gave a little bark of laughter and stood up, coming around the table to her side.
'Kaoru-dono, Sessha has something he has wanted to ask you all evening, that he has.'
Kaoru held her breath, looking up at him and watching the glimmer of the fairy lights and candles dance across his face. His hand slipped into his suit jacket pocket for the millionth time that night.
'Kaoru-dono, will you…' He stopped, looking uncertain, hand coming back out, and her heart fell. 'Will you dance with Sessha?'
She tried to hide her disappointment with a smile, as she took his proffered hand and stood. She could feel him trembling as he pulled her against him and they began to sway gently to the music.
'Aishiteru, Kaoru-dono,' Kenshin murmured against her hair as they spun across the deck.
Kaoru rested her head on his shoulder and tightened her grip. If he wasn't ready to take the next step, that was fine. After all they had all the time in the world.
'Aishiteru-desu, Kenshin.'
Kaoru felt like her heart was shattering. She hadn't known it that night, but their time together had been up. Perhaps if she had, things would have ended differently. She would have clung that little bit tighter to the man she loved. There was no use thinking about that now, though. The day after Kenshin had begun to act strangely, not in the cute way that had foretold what she hoped was a proposal, but changing, becoming more volatile and possessive. Life as she knew it would never be the same again.
'You had better enjoy your luck while it lasts, Miss Kamiya.'
Kaoru looked up from staring blankly at the floor to find Yumi standing in the doorway. Her crimson kimomo had been exchanged for an even more revealing black one that matched her hair and barely covered her chest. Kaoru wondered vaguely how she managed to keep the cloth from falling, but let it go as really not worth her interest.
'My luck?' Kaoru asked incredulously, watching as one of the maids lifted the white hood over her head.
Ironically, it was meant to symbolise submission and obedience to her future husband.
'I don't think I'd call it that.'
Yumi pouted her red painted lips and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
'You are marrying the most eligible bachelor in the world, Miss Kamiya,' she snarled. 'He is the best of everything, wealth, looks and wit.'
Kaoru looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Was this woman blind or simply insane? Shishio was a sadistic megalomaniac with bandages covering his entire body from head to toe. The only thing that was true in her assessment of the man was his money and Kaoru was hardly interested in that.
'My only consolation is that you won't be basking in what should rightfully be mine for long.'
Kaoru just stared at her, ignoring the fan that was being slipped into her obi belt. It was another symbolic piece. The bride was supposed to gradually open it during the wedding ceremony to bring future happiness. Fat chance of that happening.
'Shishio-sama has promised that as soon as you have had your tragic skiing accident on the honeymoon, he will whisk me away to Rome and marry me in one of the beautiful old cathedrals.'
Kaoru nodded dumbly more to herself than Yumi. She should have known that Shishio wouldn't keep her around after the wedding. She was a threat to his expansion as long as she was alive. It made sense that he would remove her as soon as humanly possible.
She couldn't back out now, though, not with Misao downstairs, body temporarily stitched up, holding on only by the blood transfusions they were feeding into her arm. Kami only knew what internal injuries she might be suffering from under the surface. She could only hope that Shishio's promise to keep her alive would not be broken. Yet, even if she was horrible enough to turn her back on her friend, she knew that Shishio wasn't going to let his chance at owning her father's company walk out of the door.
'Are you ready ladies?' Mr. Bad-dress-sense appeared, grinning and wearing a rather nice black kimono. 'The Boss man is waiting for you.'
The maids suddenly sped up their activities, fiddling with the last touches to her outfit and making sure that her hair was perfect even when shielded by the hood. To Kaoru's shock and relief they slipped the small traditional sword known as the kaiken into her obi belt beside the fan. Shishio obviously knew that he had her right where he wanted her. He knew there was no way she was going to jeopardise her friend's life. All the same though, it was nice to feel she had some protection.
Finally, the maids seemed satisfied with their work and filed out one by one, bowing respectfully to the bride. Kaoru watched dimly from outside herself as she took the man's arm and started down the corridor towards her doom.
'Since you're going to be the Boss man's new lady, I had better introduce myself, I guess,' Mr. Bad-dress-sense chattered as they went, ignoring Yumi's protests behind them. 'Bit rude of me not to do it before, but you know, us country boys, we don't have no manners. The name is Chou Sawagejou, it's nice to meet ya.'
Kaoru didn't respond, didn't even look at him, focusing entirely on putting one foot in front of the other. They turned in a different direction from before, but this time she didn't even attempt to pay attention to their route. What was the point? She wasn't going to try to escape.
They arrived at another set of large wooden doors. Shishio apparently had a thing for them. They opened to reveal a chapel complete with stain glass windows and pews. Bouquets of white lilies lined either side of the aisle and pale velvet hangings bedecked the stone walls.
The different coloured light from the windows shone down on Shishio and the minister standing by the altar. Shishio was wearing a more expensive version of Chou's black kimono, only his had white crests on the front and back. She could tell even from this distance that it was an heirloom.
The traditional wedding music began and she turned her head to find a small orchestra playing in one corner. She made her way down the aisle without so much as a smile and came to a halt beside Shishio.
'I'm sorry I could not give you a Japanese wedding, my dear, the ceremony was too long and could not be reproduced in the time frame I desired.'
Kaoru nodded shortly and turned to face the minister. He, like everyone else, did not make eye contact with her, lifting the bible he was holding with trembling fingers and coughing nervously before beginning his sermon. She tuned out most of it, concentrating instead on not being sick all over Shishio's shiny black shoes.
It was a long and convoluted speech filled with extracts from the minister's bible about loving and cherishing one's partner. Kaoru thought it best not to mention that his long drawn out ramblings were futile. This marriage was going to be short, bitter and end in death. She only pulled herself back to the subject at hand when the important part came up.
'Shishio Makoto, do you take this woman, Kaoru Kamiya, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the Holy Estate of Matrimony; to love, honor, comfort her and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto her as long as you both shall live?'
Shishio smiled down at her and she could tell the "As long as you both shall live" bit amused him.
'I do.'
The minister nodded anxiously, looking forward to his escape, and turned to Kaoru.
'Kaoru Kamiya, do you take this man, Shishio Makoto, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the Holy Estate of Matrimony; to love, honour, comfort him and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him as long as you both shall live?'
Kaoru swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and choked out the hated words.
'I do.'
Author's Note: Review, review, review! Seriously, it is the highlight of my dull existence and you don't want a depressed author. After all depressed + author = character deaths!