To the Readers: Someone asked if Chapter 4 is the end. No. I really don't
plan to end this story for quite a few more chapters. I promise, I'll let
you know when we get there. :D
~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter 5 ~*~*~*~*~*~
Kenshin peered between the slats in the wooden window blinds at the road below, watching his partner and the young Yahiko eagerly picking up various fruits from a nearby produce stand. It had been some minutes now since the pair had left the office, and neither Kenshin nor Kaoru had said a word.
The darkened office, with all of its dust and scattered papers seemed to reflect the turmoil within Kenshin's own soul. The only sounds came from the nearby sink which dripped endlessly. Plink. Plink. Plink.
"Himura-san," Kaoru began, finally willing herself to break the silence, "You wished to speak to me?"
The Japanese man removed his fingers from the window and let the slats fall back into place. He couldn't look at her. First he had frightened her by drawing his sword, and now this. Would he ever stop bringing such situations into the lives of people around him? This one, though, this situation required delicacy. Like an intricate puzzle-box from his homeland, he would need to bend and press and manipulate it in exactly the correct manner. If it was not properly resolved, she might go to the authorities. If only he had thought to ask Shinomori-san to give him a few lessons in diplomacy, or asked Misao-san to give him a few more lessons in manipulating others to see your way of thinking.
"Miss Kamiya," Kenshin finally said, turning to look at the woman who sat on the other side of his desk. "I know you don't have the rest of the money to pay for our services. I am betting that the 'half' of the money you gave us at the Arabeko was all you had."
Kaoru paled, the color from her face and hands seeming to instantly retreat into her eyes where it spent itself instantly on some unknown emotion. Was she naïve enough to be merely embarrassed? Or was she smart enough to realize that she had stiffed a yakuza assassin and a former mafia man? Let it be the former, Kenshin pleaded inwardly.
Kaoru stood, no longer able to sit primly in the chair provided. She had to move. Movement brought thought, and thought brought action. Stillness had never been her forte. The woman began to wander around the small office, looking at fixtures, touching wall-hangings and photographs. 'Its like she has to touch everything. Like she can't fix it into reality unless she can feel its texture,' Kenshin mused.
"How did you know, Himura-san?" Kaoru finally replied, moving a mop from against the wall and then putting it back.
"Your brother is not, altogether, a quiet boy, he isn't. And the walk back from Alameda Street took quite some time, not to mention the half-hour we waited for you to arrive."
Kaoru continued her impromptu inspection of everything in the office, occasionally bringing her fingers to her lips when she stood out of reach of anything interesting to touch. She stopped at the cracked-open door of the closet where Kenshin slept. The assassin's heart sunk as his mouth opened slightly to protest her actions. He found he could not speak. All the years of practicing absolute silence in tense and dangerous situations caught up with him. Kenshin pressed a fingernail into his now-clenched palm to help him focus.
"Is this." Kaoru began, thought better of herself, and began again. "This is where you sleep." The fact that she had said it as a statement rather than a question caught Kenshin off-guard.
"It is. For now."
"Mmmm," was Kaoru's only reply as she closed the door again and turned to face him. She flicked her fingers upwards deftly to push back a few stray hairs that had fallen from her hat. "And after that?"
How had the conversation changed from her embarrassment to his own? Kenshin couldn't tell who had the upper hand in the situation, he, the unflinching assassin, or she, the fidgety schoolteacher. He had only really ever known one young woman very well in his life, and his bashful and unassuming sister tended not to question her older brother.
"After that, we shall see, we shall. The forces which control my life may send me elsewhere in this city, this country, or even the world. It is only for this moment that I have the liberty to live my life as I please."
"Then it is true," Kaoru said, stepping towards the desk, seeming far too confident and unafraid for her years, "What Yahiko said about you being an assassin for the yakuza."
Kenshin felt the weight of his reverse-blade sword against his back as he leaned forward and pressed both of his hands downward on the desk. Two pairs of eyes stared into one another, as if trying to see who would be the first to crack.
"It is true." Kenshin had meant for his voice to come across as even and cold. To his surprise, it had somehow become tinged with an alarming sadness that -he- didn't even know he held inside. He searched Kaoru's countenance for signs of disappointment, but found himself blocked by her small smile which had arrived from nowhere like the first bird of spring.
"And, what you said to the leader of that gang, that was also true? Do you fully intend to give up killing? To shed blood no more?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kenshin glanced at the clock in the train station as he ran. He knew he was late, but he hadn't realized -how- late. Pulling his winter jacket more securely around him, he dashed between patrons, between arrivals and departures that all seemed giddy in reunions and farewells.
It had taken too long. His targets had been late. Shinomori-san had asked him to do this one last thing before he and Tsubame left for the seaside. How could he refuse? Three months of paid leave was certainly more than any man deserved.
The train. Kenshin's eyes darted around the platform. She wasn't there. She must already be on board. Thank goodness she hadn't missed the train. Had she?
The assassin thrust his ticket at the conductor and pushed past him rudely. He had to make sure Tsubame was already on board. They couldn't wait another day, not another day. The flowering plants and trees around the city had already begun to bloom. His sister had already had two attacks this week, the worst Kenshin had ever seen. The doctors had told them, when she was young, that with the years her condition would get worse, or get better. It seemed that the former had come to pass.
Kenshin darted to their designated compartment.
The young Tsubame stood, her violin case on the floor by her side, in the doorway, looking hopelessly sad, her eyes red from crying out her worry and fear, errant strands of her hair sticking to the wetness of her face.
"Tsubame! Aie, I am so late. I am sorry, I am sorry," Kenshin mumbled as he threw his arms around his little sister, burying her in the open flaps of his coat. "I'm so sorry. I will make it up to you, I will."
He pressed her close, inhaling the scent of her hair. Clean. Unfettered by the scented soaps or perfumes most other girls used.
But then, suddenly, he heard Tsubame's breath catch. He pulled away from her slowly, and only then realized what had happened.
His sister's face, arms, and hands were smudged with blood. Oh Kami-sama. His last targets. Had he even looked at himself before dashing off? Kenshin's sister backed away from him slowly, bringing her arms up to examine them as she gasped for breath, the air in her throat turning into that horrible sound that the diminutive assassin dreaded . As if she was trying to pull a lung full of air through the tiniest of straws.
"Oh no. No Tsubame. Close your eyes. Close your eyes."
As she did so, Kenshin realized her knees were buckling. With quickness even he didn't realize possible, he scooped up his younger sister and laid her lengthwise on the berth. Kicking his back leg out to catch the wooden door behind him, he slammed it shut. No one else needed to see this.
Kenshin frantically pulled off Tsubame's hat and pushed her bangs back as his sister's stayed squinted closed, her face scrunched up as she tried to draw in air that just wouldn't come.
"Ken.shin.."
"No, Tsubame. Shhh. Shhh," Kenshin pleaded as he loosened the top of her yukata. "Now. Small breaths. Yes. Just a little breath," the assassin looked around the compartment for a source of liquid. Thankfully, the train had provided each sleeping berth with a small pitcher of water. "Small breaths," Kenshin continued as he stood up slowly, "I'll be right back Tsubame, I shall. You keep your eyes closed and keep listening to my voice. Just little bird breaths, they are."
As he dabbed a nearby hand cloth into the water, Kenshin remembered what the doctor had told him. When she had her attacks, it was best to guide her through them using the calmest voice possible. The more she relaxed, the less prolonged and intense the attacks would be.
"There. Little birds, remember? And now you can feel their wings on your wrists." As Tsubame's lips parted, searching once again for air, Kenshin placed his fingers on her wrists and began to thump slowly, softly. The rhythm would help her, he knew. Subconsciously it would work on her mind, help her heart slow down its frenzied pace, and help it stop trying to search for so much oxygen. Whatever the doctors knew, Kenshin knew. He had made certain of that.
It took several minutes before the younger Himura's breathing returned to normal. Or, as normal as things got for Tsubame. Putting his free hand near her face, he could still barely feel the air passing through her parted lips.
Tsubame, covered in sticky sweat and the remnants of someone else's blood, finally murmured one word, "Sleepy."
"Yes. I know," Kenshin replied, lifting his sister's arms gently to wash them with the hand cloth. "You sleep. When you wake, we will go and have a lovely feast in the dining car, that we will."
No reply came from his sister. 'After that, plus all the worry about me being late, no wonder she's so tired,' Kenshin's inner thoughts whispered.
"Kenshin?" a tiny voice murmured as Tsubame's fingers flickered, as if motioning towards something on the other side of the compartment. "Present."
Waiting until once again sure that his sister was asleep, the young man stood and looked at the opposite seat. A small rice-paper box sat neatly wrapped with a blue ribbon. Kenshin opened it slowly. Inside sat a brass pocket watch. She must have picked it up in one of the shops at the train station.
Kenshin held it up to the light. Nothing fancy, no scroll-work or engravings, but still a precious gift nonetheless.
As the red-haired man turned the watch over in his hand, he looked at his sleeping sister. The train had started sometime during the past few minutes, and now the city's scenery slowly melted away to the vast openness of the countryside. In a few hours, they would be by the seaside, the fresh air of the ocean filling and healing all wounds.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"And, what you said to the leader of that gang, that was also true? Do you fully intend to give up killing? To shed blood no more?"
The words run in Kenshin's ears. Did he really mean to do it? Did he have the strength, the bravery, to pull his life away from the only thing he had ever known: the sword?
"I do," the young man replied softly as his wild red bangs fell over his eyes, his head bowing slightly.
Even with his view mostly obscured, Kenshin could see the wide smile blossoming across the woman's face. Shaking him momentarily from his thoughts, it seemed as if she had willed joy into his soul merely with the radiance that emanated from her visage.
"Then, if you will permit, I have a proposal, Himura-san."
"Please. Call me Kenshin."
"Ah. Kenshin. I have a rather strange idea. Hear me out," Kaoru moved away from the desk, picking up a small framed picture of Sano's mother and tilting her head in thought. "I really only use the front room of the Learning Center for classes. But, behind it are some other rooms. Originally bedrooms, I now only use them for storing books. If I cleaned them out, and asked Meg to lend me some of her space in the Apothecary, I think we could arrange living space for you there."
Kaoru put the picture back down and before a confused Kenshin could protest, she continued, "In payment for services rendered in finding Yahiko, of course. And as for Yahiko, well, it would be good for him to have a man nearby. I mean, I do my best with him, but the boy is growing. Maybe if he had someone he could turn to, someone who wasn't his sister, it would do him good."
"Miss Kamiya," Kenshin said, "I don't think you understand what you are asking. I've told you, I don't think I am exactly the kind of person you would want Yahiko to look up to."
"No. The person you -used- to be isn't the kind of person I would want Yahiko to know. But, that isn't the man I am talking to. I am talking to the man who saved my brother. The man who I am asking to stay is the one who no longer lives by taking the lives of others. I am asking Himura Kenshin the detective, not Himura Kenshin the assassin."
What could he say to such a mesmerizing plea? And how could someone who knew him so very little believe in him so very much? But having someone put their faith in you is an intoxicating drug, and Kenshin already felt dizzy from the effects.
"I would like that very much, Miss Kamiya."
"Good! Tomorrow then, Kenshin? If you come by and help us re-arrange the back rooms, everything will go so much faster."
"Of course."
Kaoru beamed brightly at him as she adjusted her hat and bent down to grab her purple-beaded handbag from the wooden chair. As she stood, she felt the pressure on her wrist. A hand. Strange. She hadn't even heard him walk around the desk.
"Wait," Kenshin whispered. Kaoru looked up into lavender-tinged eyes, "There was one more thing I wanted."
Kaoru felt the man tremble slightly. He seemed to be slightly nervous, as his downcast gaze avoided her face. "Yes, Kenshin?"
"I was wondering, hoping really, that perhaps you could also give me a few lessons in reading English? If it wasn't too much trouble, that is?"
"On the contrary. I would be absolutely delighted."
~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter 5 ~*~*~*~*~*~
Kenshin peered between the slats in the wooden window blinds at the road below, watching his partner and the young Yahiko eagerly picking up various fruits from a nearby produce stand. It had been some minutes now since the pair had left the office, and neither Kenshin nor Kaoru had said a word.
The darkened office, with all of its dust and scattered papers seemed to reflect the turmoil within Kenshin's own soul. The only sounds came from the nearby sink which dripped endlessly. Plink. Plink. Plink.
"Himura-san," Kaoru began, finally willing herself to break the silence, "You wished to speak to me?"
The Japanese man removed his fingers from the window and let the slats fall back into place. He couldn't look at her. First he had frightened her by drawing his sword, and now this. Would he ever stop bringing such situations into the lives of people around him? This one, though, this situation required delicacy. Like an intricate puzzle-box from his homeland, he would need to bend and press and manipulate it in exactly the correct manner. If it was not properly resolved, she might go to the authorities. If only he had thought to ask Shinomori-san to give him a few lessons in diplomacy, or asked Misao-san to give him a few more lessons in manipulating others to see your way of thinking.
"Miss Kamiya," Kenshin finally said, turning to look at the woman who sat on the other side of his desk. "I know you don't have the rest of the money to pay for our services. I am betting that the 'half' of the money you gave us at the Arabeko was all you had."
Kaoru paled, the color from her face and hands seeming to instantly retreat into her eyes where it spent itself instantly on some unknown emotion. Was she naïve enough to be merely embarrassed? Or was she smart enough to realize that she had stiffed a yakuza assassin and a former mafia man? Let it be the former, Kenshin pleaded inwardly.
Kaoru stood, no longer able to sit primly in the chair provided. She had to move. Movement brought thought, and thought brought action. Stillness had never been her forte. The woman began to wander around the small office, looking at fixtures, touching wall-hangings and photographs. 'Its like she has to touch everything. Like she can't fix it into reality unless she can feel its texture,' Kenshin mused.
"How did you know, Himura-san?" Kaoru finally replied, moving a mop from against the wall and then putting it back.
"Your brother is not, altogether, a quiet boy, he isn't. And the walk back from Alameda Street took quite some time, not to mention the half-hour we waited for you to arrive."
Kaoru continued her impromptu inspection of everything in the office, occasionally bringing her fingers to her lips when she stood out of reach of anything interesting to touch. She stopped at the cracked-open door of the closet where Kenshin slept. The assassin's heart sunk as his mouth opened slightly to protest her actions. He found he could not speak. All the years of practicing absolute silence in tense and dangerous situations caught up with him. Kenshin pressed a fingernail into his now-clenched palm to help him focus.
"Is this." Kaoru began, thought better of herself, and began again. "This is where you sleep." The fact that she had said it as a statement rather than a question caught Kenshin off-guard.
"It is. For now."
"Mmmm," was Kaoru's only reply as she closed the door again and turned to face him. She flicked her fingers upwards deftly to push back a few stray hairs that had fallen from her hat. "And after that?"
How had the conversation changed from her embarrassment to his own? Kenshin couldn't tell who had the upper hand in the situation, he, the unflinching assassin, or she, the fidgety schoolteacher. He had only really ever known one young woman very well in his life, and his bashful and unassuming sister tended not to question her older brother.
"After that, we shall see, we shall. The forces which control my life may send me elsewhere in this city, this country, or even the world. It is only for this moment that I have the liberty to live my life as I please."
"Then it is true," Kaoru said, stepping towards the desk, seeming far too confident and unafraid for her years, "What Yahiko said about you being an assassin for the yakuza."
Kenshin felt the weight of his reverse-blade sword against his back as he leaned forward and pressed both of his hands downward on the desk. Two pairs of eyes stared into one another, as if trying to see who would be the first to crack.
"It is true." Kenshin had meant for his voice to come across as even and cold. To his surprise, it had somehow become tinged with an alarming sadness that -he- didn't even know he held inside. He searched Kaoru's countenance for signs of disappointment, but found himself blocked by her small smile which had arrived from nowhere like the first bird of spring.
"And, what you said to the leader of that gang, that was also true? Do you fully intend to give up killing? To shed blood no more?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kenshin glanced at the clock in the train station as he ran. He knew he was late, but he hadn't realized -how- late. Pulling his winter jacket more securely around him, he dashed between patrons, between arrivals and departures that all seemed giddy in reunions and farewells.
It had taken too long. His targets had been late. Shinomori-san had asked him to do this one last thing before he and Tsubame left for the seaside. How could he refuse? Three months of paid leave was certainly more than any man deserved.
The train. Kenshin's eyes darted around the platform. She wasn't there. She must already be on board. Thank goodness she hadn't missed the train. Had she?
The assassin thrust his ticket at the conductor and pushed past him rudely. He had to make sure Tsubame was already on board. They couldn't wait another day, not another day. The flowering plants and trees around the city had already begun to bloom. His sister had already had two attacks this week, the worst Kenshin had ever seen. The doctors had told them, when she was young, that with the years her condition would get worse, or get better. It seemed that the former had come to pass.
Kenshin darted to their designated compartment.
The young Tsubame stood, her violin case on the floor by her side, in the doorway, looking hopelessly sad, her eyes red from crying out her worry and fear, errant strands of her hair sticking to the wetness of her face.
"Tsubame! Aie, I am so late. I am sorry, I am sorry," Kenshin mumbled as he threw his arms around his little sister, burying her in the open flaps of his coat. "I'm so sorry. I will make it up to you, I will."
He pressed her close, inhaling the scent of her hair. Clean. Unfettered by the scented soaps or perfumes most other girls used.
But then, suddenly, he heard Tsubame's breath catch. He pulled away from her slowly, and only then realized what had happened.
His sister's face, arms, and hands were smudged with blood. Oh Kami-sama. His last targets. Had he even looked at himself before dashing off? Kenshin's sister backed away from him slowly, bringing her arms up to examine them as she gasped for breath, the air in her throat turning into that horrible sound that the diminutive assassin dreaded . As if she was trying to pull a lung full of air through the tiniest of straws.
"Oh no. No Tsubame. Close your eyes. Close your eyes."
As she did so, Kenshin realized her knees were buckling. With quickness even he didn't realize possible, he scooped up his younger sister and laid her lengthwise on the berth. Kicking his back leg out to catch the wooden door behind him, he slammed it shut. No one else needed to see this.
Kenshin frantically pulled off Tsubame's hat and pushed her bangs back as his sister's stayed squinted closed, her face scrunched up as she tried to draw in air that just wouldn't come.
"Ken.shin.."
"No, Tsubame. Shhh. Shhh," Kenshin pleaded as he loosened the top of her yukata. "Now. Small breaths. Yes. Just a little breath," the assassin looked around the compartment for a source of liquid. Thankfully, the train had provided each sleeping berth with a small pitcher of water. "Small breaths," Kenshin continued as he stood up slowly, "I'll be right back Tsubame, I shall. You keep your eyes closed and keep listening to my voice. Just little bird breaths, they are."
As he dabbed a nearby hand cloth into the water, Kenshin remembered what the doctor had told him. When she had her attacks, it was best to guide her through them using the calmest voice possible. The more she relaxed, the less prolonged and intense the attacks would be.
"There. Little birds, remember? And now you can feel their wings on your wrists." As Tsubame's lips parted, searching once again for air, Kenshin placed his fingers on her wrists and began to thump slowly, softly. The rhythm would help her, he knew. Subconsciously it would work on her mind, help her heart slow down its frenzied pace, and help it stop trying to search for so much oxygen. Whatever the doctors knew, Kenshin knew. He had made certain of that.
It took several minutes before the younger Himura's breathing returned to normal. Or, as normal as things got for Tsubame. Putting his free hand near her face, he could still barely feel the air passing through her parted lips.
Tsubame, covered in sticky sweat and the remnants of someone else's blood, finally murmured one word, "Sleepy."
"Yes. I know," Kenshin replied, lifting his sister's arms gently to wash them with the hand cloth. "You sleep. When you wake, we will go and have a lovely feast in the dining car, that we will."
No reply came from his sister. 'After that, plus all the worry about me being late, no wonder she's so tired,' Kenshin's inner thoughts whispered.
"Kenshin?" a tiny voice murmured as Tsubame's fingers flickered, as if motioning towards something on the other side of the compartment. "Present."
Waiting until once again sure that his sister was asleep, the young man stood and looked at the opposite seat. A small rice-paper box sat neatly wrapped with a blue ribbon. Kenshin opened it slowly. Inside sat a brass pocket watch. She must have picked it up in one of the shops at the train station.
Kenshin held it up to the light. Nothing fancy, no scroll-work or engravings, but still a precious gift nonetheless.
As the red-haired man turned the watch over in his hand, he looked at his sleeping sister. The train had started sometime during the past few minutes, and now the city's scenery slowly melted away to the vast openness of the countryside. In a few hours, they would be by the seaside, the fresh air of the ocean filling and healing all wounds.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"And, what you said to the leader of that gang, that was also true? Do you fully intend to give up killing? To shed blood no more?"
The words run in Kenshin's ears. Did he really mean to do it? Did he have the strength, the bravery, to pull his life away from the only thing he had ever known: the sword?
"I do," the young man replied softly as his wild red bangs fell over his eyes, his head bowing slightly.
Even with his view mostly obscured, Kenshin could see the wide smile blossoming across the woman's face. Shaking him momentarily from his thoughts, it seemed as if she had willed joy into his soul merely with the radiance that emanated from her visage.
"Then, if you will permit, I have a proposal, Himura-san."
"Please. Call me Kenshin."
"Ah. Kenshin. I have a rather strange idea. Hear me out," Kaoru moved away from the desk, picking up a small framed picture of Sano's mother and tilting her head in thought. "I really only use the front room of the Learning Center for classes. But, behind it are some other rooms. Originally bedrooms, I now only use them for storing books. If I cleaned them out, and asked Meg to lend me some of her space in the Apothecary, I think we could arrange living space for you there."
Kaoru put the picture back down and before a confused Kenshin could protest, she continued, "In payment for services rendered in finding Yahiko, of course. And as for Yahiko, well, it would be good for him to have a man nearby. I mean, I do my best with him, but the boy is growing. Maybe if he had someone he could turn to, someone who wasn't his sister, it would do him good."
"Miss Kamiya," Kenshin said, "I don't think you understand what you are asking. I've told you, I don't think I am exactly the kind of person you would want Yahiko to look up to."
"No. The person you -used- to be isn't the kind of person I would want Yahiko to know. But, that isn't the man I am talking to. I am talking to the man who saved my brother. The man who I am asking to stay is the one who no longer lives by taking the lives of others. I am asking Himura Kenshin the detective, not Himura Kenshin the assassin."
What could he say to such a mesmerizing plea? And how could someone who knew him so very little believe in him so very much? But having someone put their faith in you is an intoxicating drug, and Kenshin already felt dizzy from the effects.
"I would like that very much, Miss Kamiya."
"Good! Tomorrow then, Kenshin? If you come by and help us re-arrange the back rooms, everything will go so much faster."
"Of course."
Kaoru beamed brightly at him as she adjusted her hat and bent down to grab her purple-beaded handbag from the wooden chair. As she stood, she felt the pressure on her wrist. A hand. Strange. She hadn't even heard him walk around the desk.
"Wait," Kenshin whispered. Kaoru looked up into lavender-tinged eyes, "There was one more thing I wanted."
Kaoru felt the man tremble slightly. He seemed to be slightly nervous, as his downcast gaze avoided her face. "Yes, Kenshin?"
"I was wondering, hoping really, that perhaps you could also give me a few lessons in reading English? If it wasn't too much trouble, that is?"
"On the contrary. I would be absolutely delighted."