Hidden Thorns

Hidden Thorns

Chapter Three

By Bottou-chan

Author's Note: I decided to portray a more serious Neon than I usually do. ;o) For the first time in a while, she's not going berserk from being around a certain rasta-braided freak. (Yeah, it was tough, not mentioning him. ^_^) But, due to the nature of her work, this fic is rated R. If you skip Ch. 4, it's just PG or PG-13. Comments?

Later that night, one of the bodyguards slipped a note into my hand. I hardly had to glance at what was written on it… I only needed to verify the name.

It was from Eisaku.

A wave of accomplishment engulfed me. I wasn't finished, by any means; rather, I was just beginning. But it was a good start.

About fifteen minutes later, I was in a private room, comfortably ensconced in a plush armchair. I sat perched daintily on the seat's edge, extending my wineglass to be topped off. He replenished my glass, and I looked at the bottle's label, then tasted my drink. I commented on how superior this vintage was compared to what was being served outside in the party.

"You don't pour fine wine into a river," he remarked easily, pouring himself a glass and then taking a seat next to me.

"Your friends certainly are capable of drinking a lot," I smiled.

"Isn't this your sixth glass of the night?"

"Seventh. And aren't I your friend?" I asked him playfully. "Besides, it's impolite for a host to count like that… it's financially depressing."

Fortunately for me, my iron stomach is a source of great admiration amongst the Uruha. Lesser mortals may wake up with throbbing hangovers the next day, but I'm immune to such petty trivialities.

It certainly comes in handy, though.

Eisaku only laughed. "How true, how true." He gazed thoughtfully at me for a few moments, and I feigned oblivion. I wasn't self-conscious at all; I knew I looked good. I'd spent yesterday at the spa, getting a facial, a full massage, and a manicure and pedicure. My hair had been meticulously styled this afternoon for the event, and I had chosen a slinky black dress which emphasized the proper curves and lines of my body, and slimmed over the ones which needed to be hidden. I looked good, and I knew it.

Self-confidence and a good fashion sense is important in this sort of mission.

I decided he had gazed like an idiot for long enough. I turned slightly and caught his eye and regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Perhaps you were once a monk, and you took a vow of silence?" I inquired lightly. "Usually, when one invites a woman for a private party, one makes some attempt to entertain her." I raised my glass slightly. "Although I must repeat, the wine is good."

Eisaku looked annoyed. He was obviously not used to being reprimanded, no matter how lightly. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, a slight edge to the question.

I continued with my play of ignorance. "You are Oonishi Eisaku," I said. "You own this casino, and I'm dying to know who did your interior decorating; the Mermaid Room was like a fairy tale. I read 'Monkey' when I was little, and I very nearly expected the Dragon King to be holding his court there."

He laughed.

"You have excellent taste in wine, and a good head for numbers, I'm sure, to have been such a success in this business. It's a hard road, I understand, but if you make it, you've really made something of yourself. Being in such a situation, I'm sure you're terribly bored of all the flunkies you have, and all the hangers-on, and all the people making threats and asking for favors and wondering if you'd like to buy a table-for-eight at their fundraiser. You must have at least two or three girlfriends stashed around somewhere, although I don't think I've seen them around in the last hour or two."

They had been cheap little things—dressed up and decked out in finery, but you could still tell. I was a little disappointed in him for having such poor taste in women, but the lack of competition made my job all that much easier.

Eisaku nodded. "You noticed?" he asked idly, but I could tell he was prying. He was looking for my ulterior motive…

I gave him a knowing look. "I noticed everyone," I said coolly. "I wouldn't go to parties if I didn't notice people."

He allowed the subject to drop. Instead, he pulled his chair slightly closer to mine and leaned forward a bit. It was an innocent enough move, but he was definitely encroaching on my personal space.

I let him.

"You know why they're gone?" he asked, his voice also dropping in tone, as though about to impart a secret to me… even though we were the only two in the room.

"Tell me," I replied, amused.

"I sent them home," Eisaku replied simply. He took a sip from his glass. "You know why?"

"Tell me." Smiling tolerance still tinged my voice.

He reached out and rested his hand just above my knee, caressing it briefly.

"I wanted to spend some time with you. Uninterrupted."

He was inches away from my face by now, and I could smell the wine on his breath.

I had to keep from laughing at his clumsy attempt at seduction. Silly man… I'd been through this more times than I cared to think. Instead, I allowed my fingers to rest absently on my collarbone, rubbing back and forth, very gently. His eyes were fixed at my throat, as though mesmerized.

"You know what?" I asked softly, leaning forward just a tiny bit. The distance between our faces was rapidly diminishing; I knew he could smell an interesting combination of my favorite perfume, the wine I had drunk, and just my natural 'Neon' scent.

"What?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Perhaps you ought to call them back," I murmured, gliding one hand softly across his cheek in a gentle caress. He placed his hand over it, as though to hold it there, but I stood abruptly.

The words finally registered, and he looked at me in utter bewilderment.

Obviously, Eisaku wasn't used to being turned down.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, looking quite hurt by my refusal.

I scowled at him. I looked beautiful when I was angry, and I knew it. I knew exactly how to get my eyes to flash with anger—just how far to pout the lower lip—just the right posture to hold.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped irately. "I came here with Kinjo, and I don't even know you. Who do you think you are, that you can do such things?"

Eisaku continued to be bewildered.

I mentally prodded him… Come on… you know the proper retort… say it…

The words finally clicked in his brain. "Kinjo works for me," he said, his voice ominous. "Do you want anything bad to happen to him?"

Ooooh-kay… Eisaku was moving fast. He skipped a few steps… he was supposed to work his way up to the threats after about five minutes of other arguments.

But I didn't miss a beat. All the aggression melted from my body, just like that. I looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "You wouldn't."

How corny. It just didn't work so well, jumping from one extreme to the other. Idiot… Eisaku needed to learn the proper order of things.

He seemed to regain his self-assurance. "If I'm happy with Kinjo, Kinjo does well," he said, taking a few steps nearer to me. I backed up, into a wall, and allowed myself to be cornered. "If I have reason to be unhappy with Kinjo, though… he doesn't do so well."

"But you wouldn't hurt Kinjo because of me," I argued, looking searchingly at him with a pitiful face. "You wouldn't do that."

This was the part where he should say, "No, you're right," and let me go and continue the pursuit later. It would keep my faith in him from being shattered; it would keep him from appearing to be the bad guy; it would be the best thing all the way around.

Eisaku shrugged indifferently. "Things happen."

Oooo, good line there. Hardly. How's that supposed to seduce me?!

I stepped forward, right into his arms. "Please don't do anything bad to Kinjo," I begged him.

It didn't help that I was nearly a head taller than him, in my heels.

A sly smile crept across his features. He knew he'd won… It almost made me want to slap him. I have my pride, too, you know, but more often than not, on assignments, it gets subdued.

He took my hand and led me to a low, plush couch which was against one wall, under a window with burgundy drapes. "Why don't you have a seat, pet, and we can discuss it?" he suggested.

I allowed myself to be docilely led. Hn. Perhaps this was why I was never very remorseful about the lives I took… hn.