I'll Do My Crying in the Rain
Chapter 6 -- An Unexpected Savior: How fragile we are
By Gabi
She stirred fitfully under the thick blanket that had been laid over her and he took it to be a good sign. At least she was moving. Where was that doctor? It felt like ages since the young man had dashed off in search of him but Soujiro knew it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Time inched by due in part, he was sure, to both the weight on his lap and on his mind.
He knelt, silent, studying the injured girl and paying little attention to the elegant young woman who sat across from him. Their conversation had died like a gutted candle and he had not said another word to her since she had accepted his offer. She seemed used to long stretches of heavy silence because she sat unmoving, head bowed slightly so she would not be staring at him openly, and tracked him from under her lashes. He was aware she was studying him but he cared not for her attention. He had issues of his own to busy him.
Kuri stirred again and murmured something, another good sign, he hoped. He leaned down to hear her breathy whispers and her eyes opened a fraction, their deep green watery and weak, although not in intensity and not in the effect they had on him. He was so close to her, their noses almost touching from his attempt to hear her soft mumblings, and his own breath caught as she slowly, laboriously, formed the syllables again.
"Soujiro-kun? Soujiro-kun?" she asked tremulously her eyes, though open, seemed sightless and wandering.
"I'm here, Kuri," he spoke softly, as if the barest breath of sound might damage her further. He brought up his hand and delicately stroked her cheek with his index finger.
Her eyes seemed to lose their glaze and slowly come into focus on his finger, then they inched over his hand and finally found his face.
She swallowed and then closed her eyes for a moment before grimacing. When she opened her eyes again, they were brighter, more natural.
"I hurt a lot," she said earnestly.
"I'm sorry," he said, equally as earnestly, never letting his hand trail from her cheek.
She began to shake her head but stopped, as it made her dizzy, "No. Not your fault."
He was silent and she grew quickly concerned, "Soujiro-kun?"
"Mmm?" his grunt was noncommittal, but she knew she had his entire attention.
"Promise me that you won't go back and hurt those men? Promise? I don't want," she had to catch her breath and paused for a moment before continuing, "I don't want you to get in trouble. I know that they hurt me, but you can't go kill them. Promise me."
Her breathing quickened and his eyes lost focus even as his thought patterns tightened and centered.
His smile was gentle, soft, private, "I promise, Kuri. Don't worry, just rest. The doctor is on his way."
She nodded her head slightly, the wrinkles on her forehead going slack as her look of worry ebbed. She blinked slowly before speaking again, "I'm very tired. Is it all right if I sleep until he gets here?"
The barest flicker of worry crossed Soujiro's face, but bathed as he was in candlelight, it was easy to disregard, "Does your head hurt?"
Before she could answer he fingered the strand of blood that traced its way from her nose to her upper lip. It, coupled with the circles currently darkening around her eyes, was a sure sign that her nose had been broken.
She shook her head and was sorry for it again, "No, I'm just dizzy," she amended, "And I hurt all over. But my head doesn't hurt, not very much, any way.
He moved smoothly, before she had time to protest, and slipped a hand underneath her head for support as he probed for irregular bumps. He knew that if she had a head wound and went to sleep then she might never wake up. His hand trembled, but he steadied it so not to alarm her and then finished poking her scalp while watching her intently for any reaction.
"It didn't hurt anywhere I touched?" he asked, gently nestling her head back against the folded cloth on which it had previously rested.
"No," she replied, this time remembering to keep her head still, "But my chest hurts. Can I rest now?"
He cast a long, heavy, almost tactile look over her and then he smiled, and it seemed that to her that he alone was the world, "Yes, you can sleep now. It would probably be for the best if you did."
She managed her own smile as she closed her eyes. Like her gaze, it was watery and unfocused but he understood the meaning and moved his hand to cover the one she rested on the top of the heavy wool blanket. He remained still until her breathing evened and slowed to the steady measured beat of sleep. Even as he waited for her to sleep and slowed and matched his breathing to hers to calm himself he could not help but let his thoughts play upon the boon she had begged of him.
Don't kill the men. I don't want you to get in trouble.
He had rarely faced consequences for his kills previously, except in certain situations, and he sincerely doubted that the recently dispatched street filth were closely connected to a certain red haired rurouni with justice on his mind. There were scant few on the planet who could actually threaten Seta Soujiro and receive more than a cursory smile and polite giggle for their trouble and he had difficulty connecting any of them to the street gang.
Still, there were other matters to consider. It was easy to forget that not only did he no longer take orders from Shishio but that he was no longer privy to the protection it afforded as well. The police were actually a threat. Not the men themselves, to be sure. They were no more danger to him that the street thugs had been. And therein lay the problem. They were exactly the same danger to him as the street thugs. Both were a threat to Kuri.
Before when he had been forced to make kills or be killed himself, he had simply packed up Kuri and wandered off before anyone thought to ask questions. The police were not organized enough to connect up isolated events, nor, according to Saitou, were they interested in tracking him simply by virtue of his name and past associations. Relocation had always been an adequate solution to his problems with the police in the past.
Now he did not have the luxury of relocation. Kuri was injured badly. He could not risk moving her farther than he already had. She needed peace, and if he was any judge, several weeks of rest and recuperation. He could not simply pack her on his back and carry her off, trusting that she'd heal well enough as they traveled. It was far too serious for that.
Nor was hiding out an acceptable alternative. He was sure that someone must have witnessed his quick disposal of the gang because the city had been crowded with festival goers. Someone had seen and they would be able to tell the police and eventually the police would be able to trace him to the outskirts of the town and to the fragile, injured girl that he protected.
And then there would be questions. After the questions he would likely be dragged off to a badly maintained city jail to await trial. He knew that Kuri would not stand to see him imprisoned, and as soon as she recovered enough he imagined she'd be beating down the prison's door. Bringing attention to herself. Bringing a lot of unwanted attention to herself. She was an escaped indentured servant after all. Someone had to be looking for her, and if they found her, there would be no one to protect her. They'd just take her away again.
Well, hiding and running away were not options. This left him with one surefire alternative, although he was unsure of the final outcome at least it was an option. To get himself out of trouble he would get himself into trouble. If he went and politely explained to the police officers then perhaps they'd see it his way. It was self-defense. Sort of. Well, not really. The men hadn't been any sort of threat to him, or to Kuri after he'd arrived on the scene. He'd doled out swift retribution because it'd suited his foul temper at the time, not that he particularly regretted his actions at this point, except for the unfriendly looking consequences. The policemen really didn't have to know that it wasn't self-defense. He was just protecting an innocent teenage girl, after all. Maybe they'd buy that. It wasn't far from the truth.
They probably wouldn't buy it, or care that he had an excuse, not really, but it was the only option he had at this point.
He turned his head slightly as he heard the approaching bustle of sandal shod feet on the soft earth outside the house. Toshio was finally back with the doctor. He touched his fingertips to Kuri's face one last time and then stood carefully, so as not to disturb her. The sooner he acted, the better his odds were. If he caught a policeman tonight, there would likely be less hell to pay. He passed the young man and the stooped older doctor in the doorway and leaned over to offer the softest whisper to the lad.
"Take care of her. I'll be back later."
He didn't wait to see the boy's astonished response, nor did he throw a backward glance at the quiet woman who sat with her head bowed, studying the woven rush mat in front of her, he just rustled out like the breeze that had had the scent of death on it such a short time ago.
Soujiro was not one to procrastinate.
***
The street was almost eerily deserted, strange considering the early hour and the festival that was still going full swing on the other side of town. There were no lanterns hung on this street, no wish cards fluttered in the chill night breeze although he was keenly aware that there were likely many unanswered wishes here.
He advanced down the street, absently noting that the bodies and blood had already been cleaned up. Apparently the local police were more efficient that he'd imagined. He noted the figure lounged in the shadows of a near doorway and turned to face it, expecting a member of the local police agency. He was surprised by the figure that did step out.
"They already cleaned it all up, don't worry."
It was Hina, still very much clothed like a sake house bouncer although he suspected that she was now off duty, as the doorway she stood in did not look like it was the entrance to any sort of drinking establishment, no matter how seedy.
He was already wearing his most complacent little boy smile, so he had merely to fold his arms inside his sleeves and tilt his head slightly to the side to complete his air of innocence.
"Really?"
She nodded, grimly toeing the dirt where the drag marks from one of the bodies could still be seen clearly.
"Word of what happened spread fast. I got here as fast as I could, but he was already here overseeing everything. You had already split. I figured from the description that it had to be you guys. How's Kuri?"
"She'll be fine," he didn't miss a beat although he silently prayed that he was right, "She's with the doctor now. I would've liked to have stayed with her, Hina-san, but I thought there might be complications with the local police. I didn't want for her to be involved."
"Call me Hina. No -san or I'll punch you, got it?"
He sweatdropped. She wasn't exactly a threat, but he might as well humor her, "Hai, Hina."
"After all, we're basically family."
Soujiro continued to sweatdrop and made no attempt at replying. Hina didn't seem to expect one, as she continued on without waiting for a response.
"I really wish I could've been there to help you waste those thugs. They've been harassing girls in the street for weeks but the police haven't bothered to do anything about it. Most girls don't go down here anymore, not like many did in the first place. If I'd been here I'da let them live, but I'da made sure they wouldn't be pestering any girls any more."
At this point Hina made a gesture that made it very clear what she would have done to the offenders and the movement made Soujiro entirely too uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't quite place.
He coughed and then attempted to steer Hina back on track. He was certainly talking to Kuri's sister, "So the police already came and took care of the bodies?"
She shook her head, "No, it wasn't the local police for sure. It was this one weird guy with an outlandish haircut and some government men. They cleared the area, and of course, I didn't want to leave and I explained who I was and why I had a personal interest and he let me stay. He said a lot of things that I just don't understand at all. It didn't help that he cursed every other word either. I mean, its not like I have virgin ears, but I had a hard time figuring out what he was trying to say in between curses. He gave me a message for you, at least I figure it had to be for you, since I don't know anyone else who might be 'that smiling little prick.'"
Soujiro felt a muscle in the back of his neck twitch involuntarily, but he didn't let it show, "And what did he have to say?"
Hina paused as if trying to remember the exchange word for word before speaking, "Tell that little fucker that I took care of his goddamned mess this time so he owes me and tell him not to worry about coming to fucking see me right now. I'll be in touch."
Yes. That was most certainly Chou.
Hina looked embarrassed and seemed to be remembering something she would rather forget, "He said some other stuff, but I really don't think you want to know. Those were the important bits," she hurried along forward, "And then they cleaned up the bodies and dragged them off somewhere. The local police came by for a few minutes, but the guy with the weird hair and the bad mouth 'convinced' him that he really didn't care about looking for whoever got rid of the thugs."
This was a convenient yet not altogether satisfying development. Chou was interested in keeping him out of trouble. He doubted that the crazed assassin turned government agent had helped him out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something, and it was something that would only be revealed in time, as he was certain that Chou and his contingent of secret policemen had probably left the town by now. Chou was not stupid enough to bait Soujiro and then hang around to receive him.
He didn't have time to go hunting for Chou anyway. He needed to get back to Kuri, lest she wake up surrounded by strangers. Well, for the time being Chou had done him a favor, and he was grateful. Whatever hell to pay would be paid at some later date. His immediate problems were at least solved.
"Arigatou, Hina," he bowed genially, blankly pleasant smile still in place, "I'm sorry you had to run my errands, so to speak."
She shook her head, "No, thank you, Seta Soujiro, for looking after my sister. I don't think she could ever find someone more suited to the job. Don't blame yourself for what happened today, but do try to keep a closer eye on her. Kuri has always been really good at getting herself into trouble."
Soujiro giggled, his soft voice sounding quite feminine, "I am quite aware of that."
Hina rolled her eyes skyward for a moment, "You know, you don't have to always act like a brain-addled six year old. I know there's more to you than that. I don't care if you keep up the act for the whole rest of the time I know you, but for five seconds, right now, I want you to very honestly tell me what you intend to do with my sister."
Soujiro coughed several times and put on a good show of having something caught in his throat. Hina did not seem impressed or fooled so he composed himself and then searched for the proper words.
"Kuri is . . ." he stopped. He might as well be as honest as possible. This was, after all, going to be the closest thing to he was ever going to have to familial permission, "I would kill a thousand men if I thought it might keep her out of harm, but if she asked me not to kill them, I don't think I could. I was an assassin. I am still a killer. I am a ronin. I can't offer her much of a life, but I am happy to share with her what I have. She makes finding the path so much simpler . . ."
He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, his eyes hidden by his hair. Hina smiled at him fondly,
"That's what I thought. Get along, Soujiro. Go on back to Kuri. I'll handle things here if anything comes up. I'll try and come by to see her tomorrow. Tell her I'm thinking about her."
He raised his head and fixed her with a clear and unsmiling gaze. His eyes were a beautiful indigo, clear and lucid in the moonlight, "I will Hina. Arigatou. Arigatou gozaimasu."
And as the dog girl stood careful guard over scuffle marks and latent suspicions, the boy ronin traced his way back to the small farmhouse where his girl, his woman, the child, the thief, the beacon, had finally attained a measure of peaceful slumber.
***
Chapter 6 -- An Unexpected Savior: How fragile we are
By Gabi
She stirred fitfully under the thick blanket that had been laid over her and he took it to be a good sign. At least she was moving. Where was that doctor? It felt like ages since the young man had dashed off in search of him but Soujiro knew it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Time inched by due in part, he was sure, to both the weight on his lap and on his mind.
He knelt, silent, studying the injured girl and paying little attention to the elegant young woman who sat across from him. Their conversation had died like a gutted candle and he had not said another word to her since she had accepted his offer. She seemed used to long stretches of heavy silence because she sat unmoving, head bowed slightly so she would not be staring at him openly, and tracked him from under her lashes. He was aware she was studying him but he cared not for her attention. He had issues of his own to busy him.
Kuri stirred again and murmured something, another good sign, he hoped. He leaned down to hear her breathy whispers and her eyes opened a fraction, their deep green watery and weak, although not in intensity and not in the effect they had on him. He was so close to her, their noses almost touching from his attempt to hear her soft mumblings, and his own breath caught as she slowly, laboriously, formed the syllables again.
"Soujiro-kun? Soujiro-kun?" she asked tremulously her eyes, though open, seemed sightless and wandering.
"I'm here, Kuri," he spoke softly, as if the barest breath of sound might damage her further. He brought up his hand and delicately stroked her cheek with his index finger.
Her eyes seemed to lose their glaze and slowly come into focus on his finger, then they inched over his hand and finally found his face.
She swallowed and then closed her eyes for a moment before grimacing. When she opened her eyes again, they were brighter, more natural.
"I hurt a lot," she said earnestly.
"I'm sorry," he said, equally as earnestly, never letting his hand trail from her cheek.
She began to shake her head but stopped, as it made her dizzy, "No. Not your fault."
He was silent and she grew quickly concerned, "Soujiro-kun?"
"Mmm?" his grunt was noncommittal, but she knew she had his entire attention.
"Promise me that you won't go back and hurt those men? Promise? I don't want," she had to catch her breath and paused for a moment before continuing, "I don't want you to get in trouble. I know that they hurt me, but you can't go kill them. Promise me."
Her breathing quickened and his eyes lost focus even as his thought patterns tightened and centered.
His smile was gentle, soft, private, "I promise, Kuri. Don't worry, just rest. The doctor is on his way."
She nodded her head slightly, the wrinkles on her forehead going slack as her look of worry ebbed. She blinked slowly before speaking again, "I'm very tired. Is it all right if I sleep until he gets here?"
The barest flicker of worry crossed Soujiro's face, but bathed as he was in candlelight, it was easy to disregard, "Does your head hurt?"
Before she could answer he fingered the strand of blood that traced its way from her nose to her upper lip. It, coupled with the circles currently darkening around her eyes, was a sure sign that her nose had been broken.
She shook her head and was sorry for it again, "No, I'm just dizzy," she amended, "And I hurt all over. But my head doesn't hurt, not very much, any way.
He moved smoothly, before she had time to protest, and slipped a hand underneath her head for support as he probed for irregular bumps. He knew that if she had a head wound and went to sleep then she might never wake up. His hand trembled, but he steadied it so not to alarm her and then finished poking her scalp while watching her intently for any reaction.
"It didn't hurt anywhere I touched?" he asked, gently nestling her head back against the folded cloth on which it had previously rested.
"No," she replied, this time remembering to keep her head still, "But my chest hurts. Can I rest now?"
He cast a long, heavy, almost tactile look over her and then he smiled, and it seemed that to her that he alone was the world, "Yes, you can sleep now. It would probably be for the best if you did."
She managed her own smile as she closed her eyes. Like her gaze, it was watery and unfocused but he understood the meaning and moved his hand to cover the one she rested on the top of the heavy wool blanket. He remained still until her breathing evened and slowed to the steady measured beat of sleep. Even as he waited for her to sleep and slowed and matched his breathing to hers to calm himself he could not help but let his thoughts play upon the boon she had begged of him.
Don't kill the men. I don't want you to get in trouble.
He had rarely faced consequences for his kills previously, except in certain situations, and he sincerely doubted that the recently dispatched street filth were closely connected to a certain red haired rurouni with justice on his mind. There were scant few on the planet who could actually threaten Seta Soujiro and receive more than a cursory smile and polite giggle for their trouble and he had difficulty connecting any of them to the street gang.
Still, there were other matters to consider. It was easy to forget that not only did he no longer take orders from Shishio but that he was no longer privy to the protection it afforded as well. The police were actually a threat. Not the men themselves, to be sure. They were no more danger to him that the street thugs had been. And therein lay the problem. They were exactly the same danger to him as the street thugs. Both were a threat to Kuri.
Before when he had been forced to make kills or be killed himself, he had simply packed up Kuri and wandered off before anyone thought to ask questions. The police were not organized enough to connect up isolated events, nor, according to Saitou, were they interested in tracking him simply by virtue of his name and past associations. Relocation had always been an adequate solution to his problems with the police in the past.
Now he did not have the luxury of relocation. Kuri was injured badly. He could not risk moving her farther than he already had. She needed peace, and if he was any judge, several weeks of rest and recuperation. He could not simply pack her on his back and carry her off, trusting that she'd heal well enough as they traveled. It was far too serious for that.
Nor was hiding out an acceptable alternative. He was sure that someone must have witnessed his quick disposal of the gang because the city had been crowded with festival goers. Someone had seen and they would be able to tell the police and eventually the police would be able to trace him to the outskirts of the town and to the fragile, injured girl that he protected.
And then there would be questions. After the questions he would likely be dragged off to a badly maintained city jail to await trial. He knew that Kuri would not stand to see him imprisoned, and as soon as she recovered enough he imagined she'd be beating down the prison's door. Bringing attention to herself. Bringing a lot of unwanted attention to herself. She was an escaped indentured servant after all. Someone had to be looking for her, and if they found her, there would be no one to protect her. They'd just take her away again.
Well, hiding and running away were not options. This left him with one surefire alternative, although he was unsure of the final outcome at least it was an option. To get himself out of trouble he would get himself into trouble. If he went and politely explained to the police officers then perhaps they'd see it his way. It was self-defense. Sort of. Well, not really. The men hadn't been any sort of threat to him, or to Kuri after he'd arrived on the scene. He'd doled out swift retribution because it'd suited his foul temper at the time, not that he particularly regretted his actions at this point, except for the unfriendly looking consequences. The policemen really didn't have to know that it wasn't self-defense. He was just protecting an innocent teenage girl, after all. Maybe they'd buy that. It wasn't far from the truth.
They probably wouldn't buy it, or care that he had an excuse, not really, but it was the only option he had at this point.
He turned his head slightly as he heard the approaching bustle of sandal shod feet on the soft earth outside the house. Toshio was finally back with the doctor. He touched his fingertips to Kuri's face one last time and then stood carefully, so as not to disturb her. The sooner he acted, the better his odds were. If he caught a policeman tonight, there would likely be less hell to pay. He passed the young man and the stooped older doctor in the doorway and leaned over to offer the softest whisper to the lad.
"Take care of her. I'll be back later."
He didn't wait to see the boy's astonished response, nor did he throw a backward glance at the quiet woman who sat with her head bowed, studying the woven rush mat in front of her, he just rustled out like the breeze that had had the scent of death on it such a short time ago.
Soujiro was not one to procrastinate.
***
The street was almost eerily deserted, strange considering the early hour and the festival that was still going full swing on the other side of town. There were no lanterns hung on this street, no wish cards fluttered in the chill night breeze although he was keenly aware that there were likely many unanswered wishes here.
He advanced down the street, absently noting that the bodies and blood had already been cleaned up. Apparently the local police were more efficient that he'd imagined. He noted the figure lounged in the shadows of a near doorway and turned to face it, expecting a member of the local police agency. He was surprised by the figure that did step out.
"They already cleaned it all up, don't worry."
It was Hina, still very much clothed like a sake house bouncer although he suspected that she was now off duty, as the doorway she stood in did not look like it was the entrance to any sort of drinking establishment, no matter how seedy.
He was already wearing his most complacent little boy smile, so he had merely to fold his arms inside his sleeves and tilt his head slightly to the side to complete his air of innocence.
"Really?"
She nodded, grimly toeing the dirt where the drag marks from one of the bodies could still be seen clearly.
"Word of what happened spread fast. I got here as fast as I could, but he was already here overseeing everything. You had already split. I figured from the description that it had to be you guys. How's Kuri?"
"She'll be fine," he didn't miss a beat although he silently prayed that he was right, "She's with the doctor now. I would've liked to have stayed with her, Hina-san, but I thought there might be complications with the local police. I didn't want for her to be involved."
"Call me Hina. No -san or I'll punch you, got it?"
He sweatdropped. She wasn't exactly a threat, but he might as well humor her, "Hai, Hina."
"After all, we're basically family."
Soujiro continued to sweatdrop and made no attempt at replying. Hina didn't seem to expect one, as she continued on without waiting for a response.
"I really wish I could've been there to help you waste those thugs. They've been harassing girls in the street for weeks but the police haven't bothered to do anything about it. Most girls don't go down here anymore, not like many did in the first place. If I'd been here I'da let them live, but I'da made sure they wouldn't be pestering any girls any more."
At this point Hina made a gesture that made it very clear what she would have done to the offenders and the movement made Soujiro entirely too uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't quite place.
He coughed and then attempted to steer Hina back on track. He was certainly talking to Kuri's sister, "So the police already came and took care of the bodies?"
She shook her head, "No, it wasn't the local police for sure. It was this one weird guy with an outlandish haircut and some government men. They cleared the area, and of course, I didn't want to leave and I explained who I was and why I had a personal interest and he let me stay. He said a lot of things that I just don't understand at all. It didn't help that he cursed every other word either. I mean, its not like I have virgin ears, but I had a hard time figuring out what he was trying to say in between curses. He gave me a message for you, at least I figure it had to be for you, since I don't know anyone else who might be 'that smiling little prick.'"
Soujiro felt a muscle in the back of his neck twitch involuntarily, but he didn't let it show, "And what did he have to say?"
Hina paused as if trying to remember the exchange word for word before speaking, "Tell that little fucker that I took care of his goddamned mess this time so he owes me and tell him not to worry about coming to fucking see me right now. I'll be in touch."
Yes. That was most certainly Chou.
Hina looked embarrassed and seemed to be remembering something she would rather forget, "He said some other stuff, but I really don't think you want to know. Those were the important bits," she hurried along forward, "And then they cleaned up the bodies and dragged them off somewhere. The local police came by for a few minutes, but the guy with the weird hair and the bad mouth 'convinced' him that he really didn't care about looking for whoever got rid of the thugs."
This was a convenient yet not altogether satisfying development. Chou was interested in keeping him out of trouble. He doubted that the crazed assassin turned government agent had helped him out of the goodness of his heart. He wanted something, and it was something that would only be revealed in time, as he was certain that Chou and his contingent of secret policemen had probably left the town by now. Chou was not stupid enough to bait Soujiro and then hang around to receive him.
He didn't have time to go hunting for Chou anyway. He needed to get back to Kuri, lest she wake up surrounded by strangers. Well, for the time being Chou had done him a favor, and he was grateful. Whatever hell to pay would be paid at some later date. His immediate problems were at least solved.
"Arigatou, Hina," he bowed genially, blankly pleasant smile still in place, "I'm sorry you had to run my errands, so to speak."
She shook her head, "No, thank you, Seta Soujiro, for looking after my sister. I don't think she could ever find someone more suited to the job. Don't blame yourself for what happened today, but do try to keep a closer eye on her. Kuri has always been really good at getting herself into trouble."
Soujiro giggled, his soft voice sounding quite feminine, "I am quite aware of that."
Hina rolled her eyes skyward for a moment, "You know, you don't have to always act like a brain-addled six year old. I know there's more to you than that. I don't care if you keep up the act for the whole rest of the time I know you, but for five seconds, right now, I want you to very honestly tell me what you intend to do with my sister."
Soujiro coughed several times and put on a good show of having something caught in his throat. Hina did not seem impressed or fooled so he composed himself and then searched for the proper words.
"Kuri is . . ." he stopped. He might as well be as honest as possible. This was, after all, going to be the closest thing to he was ever going to have to familial permission, "I would kill a thousand men if I thought it might keep her out of harm, but if she asked me not to kill them, I don't think I could. I was an assassin. I am still a killer. I am a ronin. I can't offer her much of a life, but I am happy to share with her what I have. She makes finding the path so much simpler . . ."
He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, his eyes hidden by his hair. Hina smiled at him fondly,
"That's what I thought. Get along, Soujiro. Go on back to Kuri. I'll handle things here if anything comes up. I'll try and come by to see her tomorrow. Tell her I'm thinking about her."
He raised his head and fixed her with a clear and unsmiling gaze. His eyes were a beautiful indigo, clear and lucid in the moonlight, "I will Hina. Arigatou. Arigatou gozaimasu."
And as the dog girl stood careful guard over scuffle marks and latent suspicions, the boy ronin traced his way back to the small farmhouse where his girl, his woman, the child, the thief, the beacon, had finally attained a measure of peaceful slumber.
***
