by Hotaru
Chapter 1: Sound of Sakura Falling
The caress
Of invisible words
Leave me wanting
For the sound
Of their silence
When had my life really been this complicated? Kenshin asked himself minutes later, as he crossed the street on his way to the cafe. He was thirty minutes ahead of his appointment with Saitou, wanting to indeed clear his head this time. Not that Saitou's threat had any real effect on him. He and the military officer had their differences before, some of them leading to ugly and dangerous fights—like that time, about five years ago, when his mission dragged the whole government into a scandal that almost got the highest official of the land impeached. He was a secret agent then, whereas Saitou worked legally—whatever that meant—as one of the top officials of Japan's Intelligence Bureau.
In other words…
Unlike Saitou and his minions, he was a "licensed to kill agent"—an assassin, a hitokiri, a murderer even, if one prefers to be blunt about it…So many words for a painful truth that haunted his existence in darker days. But the day was to come when the words themselves became outdated, like campaign slogans that didn't hold much truth. He was asked—no, persuaded, by not so subtly life-threatening schemes—to quit the job. Not that he wasn't looking forward to it. He just didn't think that such a move can be accomplished by a mere change of names.
So when the political clamor subsided, they invented a whole new name for him—Special Tactical Operations Officer, or STOC as other JIB agents would call him in jest because, he guessed, "slit thy overgrown cock" would have been a more appropriate rendering of the title, given the fact that his new job forced him to "handle" in less diplomatic means, the most ruthless of criminals ever to walk the face of Japan.
Criminals which have no future, and all pasts to blame.
Slit THEIR overgrown cocks…an investigator joked, not too jokingly, while he was interrogating a 45-year old rape suspect.
The hell what that means, he muttered to himself, tasting the rain on his lips.
He knew only too well that it will take more than words to change the reality of what he was, and what the government needed him for. Resigning himself to fate seemed to be the best he could do, except that of late, he had been finding it difficult to put up even a semblance of passive resignation…
Perhaps the trouble began when he began to doubt himself. Perhaps, it happened when he began to doubt everything the government stood for.
Principles are not for cowards…that familiar inner voice told him. He pursed his lips at the memory of that acute idealism slowly fading out in his mind like a dream…
Once, he believed that the only way to maintain peace is to prepare for war, and so, as an assassin's prerogative, he had taken an offensive stance in all his missions, convincing himself that sometimes, the best way to defend is to be the first to attack… That was no less than the same logic that gave Japan the right to head the UN Anti-Terrorist Campaign—a twisted logic that operates on the premise that between two terrorists, a government assassin should have the upper hand. And so he fulfilled his duties like any good, dedicated soldier, wiping out by all means available, the suspected heads and leaders of the underground operations supporting terrorist activities all over the world. And of course, the ignorance of the media and the rest of the world made all of that false heroism conveniently possible.
Thinking about it still manages to unnerve him, and he felt himself taking a longer sip of coffee, gulping it down with a vengeance.
He was a murderer, an assassin, a bullet in the head of anyone who wishes to declare himself an enemy of the State. In his own words…
A fucking low-life.
Shit!!!
Demo…
He is also just a man…
And a man could have regrets…
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his cell ringing. He picked it up, eyes still dazed.
And the sound of the voice on the other line didn't help.
"Kenshin?"
It was a woman's voice, soft, lilting, almost musical.
"Hai?"
The question was tense, like someone had been interrogating him in a cell.
Not that it didn't happen before—to him, in particular.
"Is something wrong? You don't sound like yourself."
"Gomen, itoshii. Is there something I can do for you?"
There was a slight pause. Kenshin realized that his question sounded, well, too polite to be familiar, or intimate. His mind tugged for something to say…
But Tomoe had beat him to it.
"I just called to tell you that I can't make it tonight."
"Oh."
Now THAT was even more lame. Kenshin thought of making real conversation, but his thoughts just wouldn't leave him be, reducing his speech to monosyllabic babble.
But the voice on the other end of the line merely chuckled, perhaps used to this one-track dialogue.
"I know what you're thinking dear, demo, it's just for one night. Actually, I wasn't expecting the case to drag on like this. Tomorrow's the day that shit ass Shishio's gonna get his verdict so Kiyosato-san and I are meeting to discuss the details of our strategy."
Kenshin's brows lifted curiously. "Strategy?"
"We're hoping to convince the jury to ignore some of the inconsistencies in the evidence, and come up with a guilty verdict that'll keep his ass behind bars for good—something like a life sentence without parole, which is the next worst thing to a death penalty with it being lifted and all… I'm sure you're happy to hear about that, ne?"
Kenshin was only half-listening though. He nodded vaguely.
"Hai. That would really be something to celebrate about I guess."
"Talk about celebration" the voice coaxed, suddenly becoming soft and sultry this time. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
A pause. Kenshin gave himself a mental kick.
"Nani?"
"Happy Anniversary darling. You really are, getting old forgetting things like that. If I were half the woman I am, I'd really get mad. But I know you've got a lot of things on your mind right now, so…"
So understanding… what did I ever do to deserve her? his heart told him. "Gomen nasai, demo, I'll make it up to you, that I promise."
He heard her breath catching in her throat. "Honto ni?"
"Hai."
"It's not too late to cancel my meeting with Kiyosato-san, so I can be with you tonight if that's what you REALLY want…"
A small smile tugged at his lips, accompanying the curious thrill that crawled down his muscles in excited response to the suggestion. But his training reflexes took over, prompting him to repress such impulses without effort. Still, to let her feel his lack of regret would seem almost…rude. He sighed audibly. "Iie, no need for that, itoshii. I've a better surprise right here in my hand and though I wouldn't want it to wait…"
"Better? Are you sure?" she laughed mischievously, a silver tinkle of a laugh that was both womanly and childish. "Can there be anything better than you and me in bed—"
"Itoshii!!!" (*Itoshii=beloved)
She laughed again, this time, his visage flashing in her mind like a beacon. She loved hearing that small panic in his voice—that worried, shocked tone that appealed to her as both prudishly old-fashioned and boyishly naïve, making her feel like some seductress teasing the hormones out of a teenager. She laughed again, Kenshin's innocent face coming clear and strong in her mind.
"Gomen anata…I sound crazy and I miss you terribly…"
His eyes smiled and she felt it. "Me too…Please take care. I don't want you exerting yourself too much on this…"
"I know. You're heaven Kenshin, and I love you."
"I love you too…Tomoe"
Silence. Kenshin tucked the cell in the breast pocket underneath his long coat, his eyes shadowed as he pulled out a small black box from the lower pocket of his coat, and stared at the two rings inside. I may doubt a lot of things right now…Demo…I love you Tomoe… And I will never doubt that…
. . . . . . . . . .
"Yamete!!! Stay away from me, you hear me??? Don't force me to…don't force me to…"
"To do what, little chick?" the man laughed, holding her chin and bruising it.
She gulped for air, closing her eyes.
Please, please make him stop. Please… if there is anyone listening out there, please make him stop… please…
"C-mon, show us what you've got, pretty chick."
She froze when she felt something clammy and rigid on her skin, lifting her skirt, and pushing its way to the depths of her inner thighs. Still with her eyes closed, she let out a scream.
"Shut the fuck up and enjoy it, bitch!!! You don't get something like this everyday!!!"
The pain pierced through her skin, making her lip tremble as the man began to adjust his position against her, his hands tremblingly adjusting loose clothing before he returned to her, pushing away the rest of her skirt and rubbing his coarse skin against her softness.
"Aaaahhh….this is so much better… so much better…Gods…" and he pushed down her head as he lifted her thighs up, his throbbing member waiting to be satisfied.
The initial pain was followed with another and another, the man beginning to grunt this time, as he pushed and rubbed against her. Her body grew stiff as clammy flesh and the acrid smell of sweat filled her mind, twisting her insides, forcing her throat to restrain the juices that rose and threatened to spill out of her mouth. It was nauseating.
But the man—whatever lowlife he was—continued to push, sweat breaking out of his brow as his hands feasted on her thighs, kneading the soft, warm flesh underneath. She cried as he pulled her hair back, his groans becoming louder, coarser, more rough and demanding.
The spasms began.
Another cry
Another scream.
But it was to no avail. Struggle as she might, all her efforts were wasted on her aggressor who, in his eagerness to push himself to the climax, tore off the rest of her clothing, then bent down to perform the most filthy of acts.
He tore at the opening of his trousers, then pushing his body against her to the wall to keep her in place, used both his hands to pry her thighs apart, leaving her completely, inevitably open to him.
Open to his hot, rigid, throbbing desire…
His groans grew louder, as he prepared for the final thrust.
But it didn't come.
The girl stared mutely at the body in front of her, slumped on the floor and lifeless. Another piercing scream was heard.
It was her own scream…
A scream full of self-hate…
And perhaps, something more…
But through the single looking glass in the room where the whole scene can be witnessed from the other side, someone was smiling.
"Shall we move to the nest stage of the experiment, sir?"
"No. We don't want her to be completely exhausted. Last time we've pushed her this far, she almost ended up in a coma…"
"Hai. Demo, I'm afraid some of the wires had to be replaced, sir. It seems that she damaged them severely. And the energy plasma tanks also need to be emptied."
"See to it then. Just make sure that she's not disturbed in the next 24 hours. She's hypersensitive right now, and the slightest threat can activate her defense systems, and overload the circuits. If that happens, we might have to shut down the facility as we did before, and that would get some people to suspect…I really don't want that right now…not in this crucial stage of the process…"
"Hai, Dr. Yukishiro…"
. . . . . . . . . .
"So, the girl has been missing for two months."
Kenshin didn't mean to sound tired, but he was. No use feigning interest in a case that doesn't seem in the least interesting. After all, he had handled more gruesome cases, where the lives of hundreds and even thousands had been at stake.
But this… this is just about a girl…
He rubbed his temple. Well… what if she just ran away with her boyfriend…or maybe decided to have herself kidnapped to extort money? That certainly happened before.
Kenshin was about to say this to Saitou, but caught the glimmer in the other's eyes. No. There must be some better way of telling Saitou that I'm not interested in the case.
He pondered over bits and pieces of the information Saitou just gave him, rubbing one sore temple in the process. Then, something dawned on him.
Kenshin eyed the Information Specialist shrewdly, forcing him to bristle in feigned shock.
"Something tells me you want more than plain simple advice from me about this case…"
Saitou eyed him glumly. "What do you think?"
Kenshin understood the stare and turned away from it. "I don't do that sort of thing anymore, if you'd like to know…"
"Hnnn" the detective in the long blue coat snickered, his eyes a deep gray shimmer. "Can't even say it Himura? We both know that this 'sort of thing' is nothing more than cold-blooded murder, and that's the ONLY thing you're really good at, if I do recall…"
Kenshin snorted. "I thought you hate that part of my job."
"Well then, consider this an exception."
"And you think it's all that simple?" he asked, a little impatiently, eyes turning amber for two seconds. Saitou snickered, almost satisfied to have seen this side of the ex-assassin. He knew that that side of him has never really completely left, and can be put to good use, even if it meant finding his most deep-seated provocations.
"Because this girl is not as ordinary as you think."
Kenshin stood up, almost knocking down the cup of coffee that had not been emptied even after twenty minutes of dull conversation with the officer.
Saitou watched him lazily, not in the least ruffled by this abrupt display of temper. "Just where do you think you're going?"
Kenshin threw him a death glare. "Like I told you before, Saitou. I DON'T do that 'sort of thing' anymore. And nothing would convince me otherwise …no matter how extraordinary the circumstances…"
"Even if this girl saved your life once?"
He stopped dead in his tracks and turned, violet meeting silver. But the old deadpan face of the veteran took all his anger in, unfazed and expressionless, as one who had known more wars than all the deep scraggly lines on his forehead could say.
"Don't play games with me, Saitou. I'm not your pawn, so don't expect me to move forward like I have no other choice, just because the game was made that way…"
"Pawn?" he rasped, an amused flicker of gray lighting his eyes.
"I don't trust you. Not that you actually expect otherwise…"
"I don't know if there can be anything worse than your mind games, Himura" he finally conceded, sipping his sake with arrogant grace, white gloved hands deftly easing the saucer between raised fingertips. "I mean, do you actually think the JIB would want a godddamn bastard like you back in the service to be the nice little policeman in the neighborhood? If for one moment you believed THAT, then you're even more stupid and naïve than I thought. The image may have convinced the god-fucking media to leave you alone, but you know that this foolish pretense will never do. Deep within you, Battousai lives on, saving himself for the killing, which is not far from what I'm offering you to do in the name of those same shitty principles you and I call justice… But I guess I was wrong… At least Battousai believed in something… But the man that came to replace him seemed stupid enough to stay in his illusions, which I must say may have been the effect of too much pampering from equally stupid women like Tomoe…"
"That would be enough officer," the ex-assassin's voice hissed, a sword sliding beneath Saitou's throat to graze the thin stress lines that marred the features of the older veteran. "You let your ass do the talking for you again, and I'll make sure you'd be speaking to the devil himself!!!"
Saitou met his words unflinchingly. "And on what terms do you make these demands?"
"On your life."
"Oh. Are you threatening me Himura?"
"You know what I can do, Saitou."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Look," Kenshin grated, finally withdrawing the weapon as customers scampered towards the nearest exit, not even bothering to cast another look at the amber-eyed stranger in the long black coat with furious red hair. "As much as I sympathize with your cause, I won't raise old ghosts to help you. Battousai's dead remember? You killed him when I…"
When did it really begin, a voice asked, pushing through him the way forgotten memories do. He willed himself to continue.
"…that day I walked into the JIB, with nothing but a scar and a sword to remind me that tools can have no beliefs…Because in a world where principles are discarded like old religions, politics is god and truths are nothing more than a blind excuse for changing sides…"
Saitou wrinkled his brows, a grin of amusement playing on his lips.
"I didn't know that self-pity makes you poetic…"
"Perhaps you didn't catch my drift," Kenshin told him, leveling his gaze to settle on Saitou's gray ones. "I'm neither Battousai nor his replacement killer. Neither am I someone's savior, if that's the truth you would have me believe. As for the fucking principles you think I still share, well, let me tell you that perhaps its time you let your ass do the dirty work for you…"
"My ass? Of course, I understand perfectly Himura" Saitou told him, lighting a cigarette. "I forget that mine belongs to the service, whereas yours belongs to that woman—"
Like lightning, a fist flew to his mouth, cutting his lip before he could even get the last words out. Across him, fiery amber glowed madly, like embers in a rekindled fire.
By now the café was completely empty, save for the waiter who immediately went back to polishing tables, when Kenshin met his eyes by accident. Needless to say, there was nothing that could get in his way should he decide to push the matter with Saitou beyond mere verbal argument…
Silence fizzled around them, like fire and ice…
Saitou dared to look back, meeting the penetrating gaze that bore holes through him like bullets. Kenshin simply stood there, a shadow with yellow eyes, black gloved hands tremblingly grasping the hilt of his sword, while before them lay a table broken into two, and shards of glass and ceramic littered all over the floor where Kenshin had literally pushed him.
Stupid jerk!!! What do I have to do to make you realize that all this struggle is useless??? How can one who had stained his hands with blood ever come to terms with himself when he denies the very essence of who he is? When he denies the fact that his life could not belong to anyone…nor to any stupid ideal that will never accept anything less than its own illusions…
The girl had suffered just as much if not even more, trying to save everybody's ass…Yet here you are, you damn stupid twit walking away from her…
But I won't let you…Saitou grunted, wiping the blood off his lip with the back of his hand. He got up, meeting the former assassin's gaze with calm resolve.
Kenshin's eyes took in Saitou's cut lip and bleeding jaw unblinkingly, hands finally leaving the hilt of the sword that his fingers itched to draw and use as butchering knife.
The mere effort drained him, like the first few withdrawal symptoms that left him breathless whenever he thought of holding a gun again…in those darker days…
"Gomen, demo, don't ever provoke me again, Saitou…"
The Information Specialist ignored that, straightening up. He was a good measure taller than the red-haired Special Tactical Operations Officer but he knew that that had never been an advantage. Kenshin can just be as intimidating, sometimes even more.
"You would recall that General Kamiya saved your ass once by convincing the Tribunal to wipe out all records pertaining to your previous existence, Hitokiri Battousai…"
The old name almost made the red-head flinch. Mentally at least. On the outside though, Kenshin did not appear to be even fazed.
"And what does THAT have to do with this case? The General died two years ago. And I don't remember the government holding me accountable for that as well…"
"No. But the government holds you accountable for an important government asset he left behind…"
Kenshin raised his eyebrows. "And what's that?"
Saitou snickered, his eyes spitting fires as Kenshin continued to give him a death glare. "His daughter."
For a while, Kenshin was lost for words. He thought he knew everything about the General…
"Kamiya had a daughter?"
The question sounded stupid, even in his ears, but he had to say something.
Saitou only grunted an assent.
"So how did this extraordinary person save my life?" Kenshin's tone was rather sarcastic.
"Kamiya's daughter was the informant who tipped us about the plot to assassinate the Prime Minister of Japan and the Secretary of the United European Community a few months ago, during the UN Security Council Meeting in Geneva. In the same way she predicted the attempt to bomb your apartment and the whole quiet neighborhood around you while you and your girlfriend were busy screwing each other like hell…"
Kenshin was about to throw another punch at him but decided against it, gritting his teeth instead. After all, Saitou isn't done with his report yet and since he needed to know the facts…
"Actually, I would have wanted it that way--you killed and wiped out from our records for good, but I don't see the reason why innocent civilians had to be in it too… Anyway, what is obvious is that you and your sorry ass wouldn't be here right now if that girl ignored the threat on your life and opted to worry about her manicure…"
"Demo…" Kenshin started, pushing away the haze of indetermination overtaking him. "I find no reason for this girl to do such a thing. I don't even know her…"
Saitou was watching him with an intense glare, transfixed by the shift of color in the ex-assassin's eyes which betrayed the latter's emotions. Right now, he knew that Himura felt confused and intrigued.
And it was precisely the opening he needed to get through his thick-headed defense…
"Don't be so sure Himura. After all, that's one of her talents—the ability to read minds and know their innermost secrets—their identities, their motives, their emotions."
Kenshin raised an eyebrow, curiosity winning over anger. "What is she, some psychic?"
Saitou snorted. "You can say that, although some would rather call her a pre-cog. They communicate telepathically, entering any consciousness by sheer will, to expose its deepest secrets, weaknesses, and hidden compulsions. Since they leave no imprint or trace of this activity, they make the most efficient spies, the most accurate informants any intel agency would dream of having. Some pre-cogs have also been instrumental to other operatives working in a case…They can give warnings, enhance intuitive abilities, and increase drives and impulses crucial to one's survival in extremely precarious situations. Now, do you understand why the military wants her back at all costs?"
Kenshin turned away wordlessly, his face hidden in the shadow of his long bangs.
"Anyway, just in case you're curious Himura," Saitou called out, his eyes glinting with amusement, "call Katsura. The government's put him in charge of the operation and he's willing to give you anything you want in exchange for this last favor…"
Anything I want…Kenshin vaguely thought, his mind throbbing violently… How I wish it's that easy to figure out…
. . . . . . . . . .
"Katsura-dono?"
"Speaking. Is that you Himura?"
"Hai."
"I've been waiting for this call since yesterday. Has Saitou finally convinced you? Or have you finally convinced yourself?"
"Gomen, I can't really talk about that right now."
"I see. Why don't we discuss it tomorrow then? Same place. You still remember?"
"Hai."
"Good. I'll see you at lunch then."
"Hai."
"Until then."
The line went dead. Beside him, something stirred.
"Who is it Kenshin?" Tomoe asked, her voice hoarse with sleep. Kenshin moved towards her, draping his arms around her bare shoulders. She smiled, planting a kiss on his scarred cheek. "I swear that conversation sounded like it was classified. Military business?"
There was no hint of anger or frustration in her voice. Only curiosity, and perhaps, worry.
"Forget it, itoshii. It's really nothing."
"See? I knew it. If that isn't Saitou, it's Katsura. He's the only one you respect so much to be so polite."
Kenshin chuckled, amazed at his fiancee's acute observation. "Polite? Are you saying I'm not normally polite?"
Tomoe leaned closer, putting her weight on him, making him groan slightly, as her soft thighs caressed him underneath the blankets. "Polite isn't the best word to describe a man like you, Kenshin Himura. Especially, when you get so…passionate… about your job…"
Her voice was hoarse but soft, and it tickled his ear to hear her breath so close…
He pushed her under him, so that he was on top of her this time, his weight pinning her so efficiently right where he wanted her.
"I'll keep that in mind, itoshii… Demo, I'd admit I can't help being passionate right now about my job, that is…"
His eyes just held a slight hint of amusement in them.
"Job???" she feigned shock, giggling all the while. "So I'm just another 'job' for you ain't I? …"
"Oro…!!!"
"Stop that! You turn me on when you do that Kenshin anata!!!" she laughed a delicious laugh, pulling him towards her by wrapping both her arms around his neck and biting his lower lip softly, sucking it.
He almost squirmed at that, surprised at her sudden boldness, but finally lost himself in a few seconds, shaking off his momentary shyness by kissing her passionately, eagerly, ending her mock struggles, and drowning everything else with it, including his apprehension over the meeting with Katsura.
For some reason though, even in the midst of that kiss, the tiny little quiver of a voice in his head wouldn't let him be…
. . . . . . . . . .
Please… if there is anyone out there…please…make them stop…please make them stop… I… I… don't want to die here… Anywhere but here…
Please… anyone out there…if you can hear me…
He sat up all of a sudden, cold sweat covering his bare torso as he blinked, feeling the strange throbbing ache in his temple. He had been hearing the same unfamiliar voice in his head as he slept, slipping in and out of his mind unpredictably, even interrupting his need to focus on more urgent matters. Speaking of those matters, he gazed at the folded blanket beside him, and remembered the passionate night he shared with the woman who shared his bed—the woman he intended to propose to that night but didn't get that far when she aggressively insisted that they deal with it in bed. With the way things turned out, Kenshin never got to his proposal. He wrinkled his brows, wondering how many times that sort of thing happened. Looking at the blankets again, he spotted a small note on top of them, folded in half. He picked it up, recognizing the familiar handwriting.
The dinner last night was the best.
The 'desert' after that, even better.
Will call you tonight, I promise.
-Tomoe
Kenshin left the piece of paper on the desk beside the bed and got up, tossing a bathrobe over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom.
. . . . . . . . . . .
The Himekami teahouse was just a few kilometers from his apartment, but Kenshin was an hour early for his meeting with Katsura, his face an unreadable mask of emotions. He touched his temple for the nth time since he woke that morning, wondering at the insistent throbbing there that would come with the occasional sound of a girl's voice pleading to him, insisting on her need to be found… But where is she and why him? He could not understand any of it, and was pretty doubtful that he wanted to, really. All he needed from Katsura is some information about the case that will settle his feelings about it. After all, when he decided last night to call his former superior, it was more to convince himself that he didn't want the job—that whatever the officer has to say about the matter is not going to shake him from his resolve not to get involved.
He knew he was doing all this for Tomoe… For a future that he's willing to share with the only woman he had ever and could ever love…
Tomoe…Then that other voice called out to him, shattering his calm resolve, his inner peace, the pretense that he wanted to believe was real…
Please… if there's anyone out there who can hear me… please…
It unnerved him to hear it…to have that presence inside his thoughts, like a ghost haunting an old familiar place in search of something that eludes. Without admitting it, he wanted to know more about this girl—why she called out to him in such a way…with such deadly urgency that quickens his breath and churns his insides, making him weak with—
Worry? Concern? It was hard to tell….
But if it was some military strategy to get him involved, he would live to make them regret it…
Yet, the other possibility seemed just as crucial. If the girl had indeed fallen into the hands of the enemy, wouldn't he do everything in his power to protect what she stood for? The people she had vowed to serve against all odds?
After all, he too had once believed in those ideals…ideals he couldn't leave behind even now…
Perhaps, Saitou was right. In essence, he hadn't changed…And THAT is the crucial factor.
Unconsciously, his hands reached out for the tiny box he had been keeping in the pocket of his long black coat. The question would be painful, but it needed to be asked…
Is he willing to be convinced this time--even if it could cost him the only dream he ever had and could ever have, with the most important person in his life?
"You're very early, Himura. I hope I didn't keep you waiting that long."
Kenshin shook his head, pushing aside his thoughts. "Iie, Katsura-dono. Actually, I needed the solitude to think things through, since I can't say that I'm entirely happy to be at your service again…"
"Yes, I've suspected that from the very beginning. Maybe if you let me enlighten you about the subject, you will arrive at a much more favorable decision…"
"Maybe." A slight pause. "Then again, maybe not."
Katsura raised his brows, almost amused at Kenshin's demeanor. Ten years ago, when Kenshin was recruited into the service by a friend who had trained the boy for years, Kenshin was the perfect picture of confidence and certainty. As an assassin, he showed no apprehension nor reservation towards killing, accomplishing every task with deadly accuracy and acute objectivity as is required by his superiors whom he trusted without question. Now, he could sense a different Kenshin—not an inferior one, but a warrior who is both wiser and more cautious, one who has learned to temper—if not eliminate—the killing ki that had made him the most intimidating and unpredictably dangerous assassin of his generation. He doesn't doubt that the skills are still there despite five years of respite—due to the political scandals that terminated the agency and its illegal operations abruptly—but somehow, there is more gentleness in his aura now, more subdued passionate eloquence which spoke whole volumes about the inner calm that this new person—the one who calls himself Kenshin Himura—doubtlessly found.
And that, for Katsura, is something refreshing to see—a novelty as fragile and rare as sakura under the rain... And for a moment he began to entertain doubts as to whether it's right that he should turn this man's life upside down by giving him back the world he had left behind…
Maybe not…demo…there are far more important things than self-satisfaction, and important things require great sacrifices…
"Would you like anything before we begin?"
Kenshin shook his head ever so slightly. "Domo arigatou, Katsura-dono, but I really want to move on to this business of yours."
He smiled, noting the controlled intensity in the ex-assassin's voice. He cleared his throat, sipping the tea that the serving lady in blue and white floral kimono quietly placed in front of them.
"Where do you want me to start?"
Kenshin met his gaze unflinchingly, his brows creased in deep thought. "This Kamiya girl Saitou mentioned yesterday. I'm not in any position to doubt half the things Saitou said about her, but I believe, Katsura-dono, that you are in a far better position to confirm these matters in detail, if you'd be so willing…"
Katsura grunted an assent. "Aside from the fact that she's indeed the daughter of the late General Kamiya, the girl's also a pre-cog who's been working secretly for the government for the past ten years. Her father didn't know about it until three years ago, but that's another story. Anyway, what's important is the fact that the girl is a valuable military asset… the right arm that runs things from the inside so that our sorry asses could do half the job that we're supposed to. Of course, even though the girl's NOT as mindlessly dedicated to our principle that the end justifies the means, she recognizes the need to do whatever is possible to protect the same peace her father dedicated his entire life to. And since only the government has the resources to give her the kind of protection she needed from those who might abuse her talent, it didn't take long for her to realize that joining our team is the best option she has…"
Kenshin thought about it, trying to be as straight-faced as possible even when something in the last part of what Katsura said struck a familiar chord and disturbed him.
Protection? Iie…even the government can be ruthless… and I learned that the hard way…
Katsura cleared his throat, expecting him to interrupt any moment now.
Kenshin immediately shifted his thoughts to other, less disturbing issues...
"Uh…perhaps you can tell me a little more about her background…What she does for the government, why as Saitou says, she's doubtlessly a valuable military asset …"
"Pardon?" Katsura must have been shocked at the directness of the question, and gave him instead, a quizzical stare, to buy him some time.
After all, this is Battousai…And those questions cannot be answered with less tact than is needed for the success of the mission…
"Gomen, Katsura-dono, but you said she's a precog. What does that really mean?"
"In her case? Well, quite a lot of things. After all, she's not the ONLY pre-cog we have, or for that matter, the only one who's actually working for a military facility. Germany has one of the most advanced Precog Enhancement Programs in the world, but it's top secret of course. As for Kamiya, her precog abilities include the ability to visualize immediate outcomes, predict probable occurrences and alternative events, intercept, decode, and scramble codes even before they reach their destination, and manipulate the minds of those who're normally good at keeping secrets…"
Kenshin's eyes flickered at that. "Manipulate minds? Can you be more exact?"
"It simply means that she can also be one hell of an information extractor, if you'll pardon the crude phrasing."
He nodded at that, choosing to keep to his thoughts.
"The unique thing about Kamiya is that she has developed all these abilities naturally. Moreover, these abilities have awakened at quite an early stage in her life. The discovery was in fact, accidental, and happened when she was wandering at the facility and accessed the security codes and files of the main computer by means we have yet to figure out. It was both remarkable and disastrous of course! Imagine the entire military complex shutting down because Kamiya was unconsciously encoding commands to the central computer, which activated all nuclear weapons within an 800 mile radius from the base!!! On the average though, the child was a good mind-gazer…I can still remember her nasty habit of mind-guessing what everybody was about to say, sometimes even picking out random thoughts, and forgotten memories with effortless accuracy…"
Kenshin's brows twitched at that. Pick out forgotten memories? And here I thought that remembering is inevitable…
Katsura noted his silence but took it as a sign that he wanted more details. "The girl is also an empath and a mind-seeker. The former means that she's extremely sensitive to human emotions, and can, for that matter, identify possible courses of action which she may reinforce, or inhibit, depending on the objectives of the case. Mind-seeking is a bit too complicated for me—something maybe Dr. Genzai of the Institute of Precog Development and Technology can better explain."
Kenshin sighed. Mind-seeking... The more he thought about it, the more he grew uncomfortably drawn towards the mystery of the girl's identity and purpose. If not for his old habit of NOT asking questions, he would have insisted for further clarification. But he could only sigh, meeting his employer's curious gaze.
"A talent like hers may indeed be lethal…and useful at that…"
Katsura nodded. "I know. And to think that most research in precog indicate that those who do develop such abilites can only operate one ability at a time, with serious psychological consequences for the precog whenever he or she does…"
Kenshin found something almost shockingly familiar about this girl. He glanced away, noting the sight of falling sakura outside the window of the teahouse.
"How old is this girl then, if I may ask?"
"She would have just turned seventeen last month."
Kenshin almost dropped his tea. "Demo… that would mean…"
"Hai. She started working for us when she was seven—less than half your age when you started working for me. Which is why even that cold-hearted brick-head Saitou has as much sympathy for this case. She has suffered so much, for far too long, Himura. A child shouldn't be made to suffer so. Not that we have given her a choice. But we all have lived through this age because she made it possible. She didn't have to, but she did. The service owes her that much. We owe her that much. You understand what I mean Himura?"
He turned away again, refusing to meet the honest brown eyes that sought his agreement. Somehow, he felt pity for the girl, and hoped that she had genuinely escaped the world they've trapped her in, against her will. After all, he still believes in free will—even if the whole world seems to conspire to make it impossible. This girl still has a choice to live her life as she pleases, and damn the military if they insist that a caged life—no matter how secured or protected—is the best.
Security? Protection? Your worst enemy is yourself…and that's something nobody can protect you from…
"Himura?"
He looked up, violet eyes narrowed in deep thought.
"You do understand don't you? We need your help to bring her back."
He met the older man's eyes confidently, but his inner mind was telling him something else. "Maybe so," he answered reluctantly instead.
"Maybe so?" Katsura said a bit impatiently, putting down his tea with a little more force than he intended. He addressed the ex-assassin with a slight tremor in his voice. "I would think that statement is rather cruel, if not deliberately short-sighted. The girl has saved all our lives at least once—yours more than anyone's even…"
"Saitou has pointedly made that clear as well…"
"Indeed. Except that there's no way he could have known all the details of her involvement with the military…and how she broke all rules to save your ass, Himura."
This time, Kenshin did not even care to hide the impatient glare of amber eyes hiding beneath furious locks of red hair. "My life is my responsibility. Nobody asked her to be my guardian angel."
"Indeed. I guess this conversation is not getting anywhere." Katsura stood up, not even bothering to take a formal leave. He signaled to the waitress, and handed her several bills to pay for the tea and the special accommodations they provided. He then turned and left, as if Kenshin wasn't even there...
Kenshin left the Himekami teahouse minutes later, his face hidden by the upturned collar of the black coat swirling at his knees. For some reason, his eyes hurt to see the sun shining through blue, cloudless skies above him, but he knew nevertheless that despite the chilling wind, summer must be close, as the sakura fell and landed beneath his feet, the muted whispers of their descent as loud as the urgent pleading that wouldn't leave him…
. . . . . . . . . .
Author's notes: Kenshin playing hard to get? Well, I figured that that has been Kenshin's attitude towards all government officials who have ever sought his help (in the manga, the TV series, the OAVs) and even seems to be consistent with the way he behaved towards Tomoe and Kaoru and practically all the women he met. Besides, I was hoping to make his decision to do anything in the next chapter more poignantly revealing about his struggle as Kenshin and as Battousai, without being unfair to both. After all, Battousai is NOT some blind, heartless, mindless killer like some fics would rather depict him, nor is Kenshin the exact 'baka' opposite. I think there's always a middle ground between polarities, though it's quite hard to depict that with the extremes being fascinating the way they are… Besides, I'd like to explore how Kenshin and Battousai would contemplate an issue requiring both the decisive objectivity of an assassin (i.e. "nothing personal only business" kind of attitude) and the practical skepticism of a man who had made some wrong decisions in his life and has every reason to be cautious of his own compulsions.
About Tomoe, well, she has more spunk in this fic, precisely because I hate to be unfair to her. Killing her off might make the choice for our poor Kenshin so much easier and less complicated but I think that sidesteps, rather than confronts the real nagging question as to who, really, deserves our tormented Kenshin/Battousai's loyalty and eternal love. Of course, both of them do, but as I do not intend Kenshin to be a two-timing ass-hole, I think he really needs to decide between these two women. (OK I'd let the secret out, I'm a fanatic K&K fan and I think Tomoe sucks, there!!! Makes me feel guilty saying that, I'm such a bad-ass but I can't help it!!!) Still, I always TRY to work beyond the limits of my selfish preferences (and believe me, it hurts sometimes to have to contradict those preferences once in a while for the sake of the story), and since this is a multi-chapter fic with a still indefinite ending, anything is possible.
Thanks for reading!!! For those K&K fans out there, well, the next chapter I promise, is worth the wait. Sayonara for now—until tomorrow that is!!!