AN: Rewritten on October 12th, 2012.
Warnings: Language, violence.
I Am...
Chapter 2 :: A Meeting of Sorts
Steam slowly filled the tiny bathroom, fogging over the mirror and clinging to the porcelain of the sink and toilet as Misao sunk into the water of her bathtub. Her hair spilled around her from where she had undone the braid. She reached for a lock, staring at it idly as she relaxed against the tub. She pondered on why she had not cut it.
"Don't cut it. It looks good long."
That would be why. He had asked her not to. She sighed softly and let go of the lock, knowing she would never cut it. This was not helping her get back on track, either.
The heat from the water did much for her tightly wound body, until finally she felt herself enveloped in a blanket of almost-relaxation. Instead of focusing on the past, she did well to consider just what she knew now about Yukishiro Enishi, and just what it might take to take him out of the game permanently.
He was a man of power. And as a man of power, he enjoyed flaunting it. Kaoru hid her disgust behind a mask of calm as she checked in with security. The glittering mansion behind the guard in front of her was a testament to this fact. He was so blatant about who he was. She wondered why it had taken it this long to confirm what she and Misao already suspected.
She knew why, though. He was powerful and careful. Most of his dirty work he did through connections and partners. Tracing it back to him had been the hard part. He hid behind the facade of a successful entrepreneur. Though, she supposed that was what he was in his own right.
Idly, she noted it was taking a long time to get through security. The property seemed to be alive, and she could only wonder just what had happened in the short hour she had been gone. She saw a troop of guards trot by and her eyes narrowed.
Once inside, she was surprised to find him out in the open. Before, she had just been catching glances at him, not deep in enough to risk much more. This caught her off guard, and she tilted her head as he spoke irritably to the men before him. He was donned in a black night robe that contrasted the strange white of his hair. He had apparently been disturbed from his slumber. It helped to explain why the mansion did not seem to be sleeping.
"And I want a full sweep of the perimeter by two sets of teams. I want him found." Despite his irritation, his voice had a lilt that she had not expected. The men dispersed after a few more orders from him, leaving him standing there. He was not alone, of course. Guards and personnel were everywhere. But he was the most unguarded she had ever seen.
And considering what she suspected had happened just moments before she walked through the door, she wondered about that. She did not doubt he could defend himself, but now she was curious as to how well. Part of her really wished to try him. She shoved that part down and reminded herself of her job.
Enishi leveled his gaze on her and tilted his head as if noticing her for the first time, and likely it was the truth. She stood there, her body in a posture that indicated respect and humility. She had learned quickly it was what he liked. Now, under his scrutiny, she let her acting skills fall into work. Just the right measure of confidence in herself and respect and awe for the man who stood before her.
"What is your name?" His voice was smooth like velvet, and yet it slithered over her like scales. She lifted her eyes to meet his and offered a slight smile, pretending to be pleased with his attention.
"Hawatari Hikaru." It was an identity that had taken her months to set up, exhausting all of her resources and contacts. She had it down to what days she had missed in school for being out with the flu.
"You are new," He commented idly, his eyes measuring her.
"Two weeks, my Lord."
A smile pulled at his lips. "I see. You appeared to have returned just after all of the fuss tonight."
Ah, an opportunity. Her eyes skimmed the area, ignoring the way he was staring at her. "What happened, my Lord?"
Enishi's smile was hard, and he flashed her his teeth. "Someone wishes to hunt the white tiger for his pelt."
"It is good that you are unharmed," She commented, forcing false sincerity into her words. "How many?"
The man paused, putting a finger to his lip in thought. "Just one."
Kaoru's eyes narrowed and his next words sent a chill down her back.
"Battousai works alone."
Misao sighed, her legs crossed and her feet propped on the edge of the old tub. She had sunk as deep as she could into her watery blanket and inhaled the steam that still littered the room. Her soft exhale covered the very slight sound of the door opening in the living room.
She had not thought to lock it after Kaoru left. Too lost in painful memories and the despair they wrought. The steam and light from under the door to the bathroom gave away her location easily enough, and the first the three intruders moved in, motioning for the second to follow. The third stayed behind, gun drawn and ready to aid if needed.
His death was quick and silent, neck snapping in an unnatural angle that left the two before him none the wiser as they approached the bathroom door. He was moved against the wall without a sound as the fourth individual crept in with the winter's chill, sliding through the apartment's shadows like he was night himself.
Misao stretched a bit, lifting her legs out of the water, propping them higher up on the tub edge. She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. Mentally, she began to pick out all the animal shapes she had found in the cracks. The paint was chipped and peeled, and if she squinted just right, that one in the left corner really looked like a monkey. She heard a thump from what sounded like the floor above her and some dust settled from the ceiling. This place really was a dump.
Her perusal of her ceiling animal portraits came to an abrupt stop as her door slammed open sharply. Her head whipped over to the source and her jaw set at seeing two men standing at her with weapons drawn. Her closest gun was between two towels on the towel rack. It was only two feet away, but to make any sudden move at this point would guarantee her a bullet in the head.
"Get out."
His gruff command made her muscles flex, and she stared at him. She did not have a lot of dignity, but pride she did have. She forced herself to not curl her lip as she stayed where she was, eyes not leaving either man as she tried to think of how to get out of this situation.
The one behind him shifted. "Just kill her. She'll feel the same if she's alive or dead, at least for the first half hour, and as long as she's dead our job is done."
She saw red, and her fingers gripped the edge of the tub so tightly that they turned white. 'Those mother-fucking sons of bitches-'
"She will not be dying today, much less doing anything else such as you have implied."
They did not even get the opportunity to full turn around. Misao craned to see what was going on, but in the dim lighting of her apartment, all she managed to see was the splatter of blood on the doorjam as the first man fell. The second one fired his gun, but apparently did not make his mark. He jerked violently and collapsed on top of the first body.
She berated herself for not taking that scant moment of opportunity to get to her gun, and she felt anger flutter in her chest to realize just who was her savior.
Thin lips pulled into a wide smile and she found that there was something beyond creepy about it. Something about the way he looked at her unnerved her, and she realized it was because she did not know what he felt. He hid it well, even if she knew it was there.
His eyes were drifting, and she had to remind herself she was still in her bath, naked. Soapy water did a poor job at covering her body from his eyes, and her breasts were barely below the waterline. She narrowed her eyes in warning, black hair messily clinging to skin. It probably did not appear as intimidating as she hoped.
He seemed amused by the purse of her lips, the furrow of her brows, and the silent, blazing fury that rode through her. He almost missed her words, too absorbed in the way a droplet of water rolled down the pale column of her neck.
"What do you want?"
He blinked out of his trance, though the smile did not falter. Reaching over, he grabbed the first towel on the rack, and to her relief he did not see the gun between the others. He held out the fabric for her to take. "Cover yourself."
She snarled something vulgar under her breath, yanking the cloth from his fingers and stood as he turned around, water splashing as she hastily covered her body. Even with his back to her, he stood beside the rack. Any sudden movement on her part would alert him of her attempt. She was not so sure she could be fast enough to get her gun and aim it at him before he could retaliate. He was not killing her just yet, so she would have to wait it out.
His words broke through her calculations. "Get dressed."
She scowled darkly, her temper rising. "Don't tell me what to do, prick."
Blue eyes half turned to peer at her, and that smile was still there. "Get dressed, please."
"You arrogant, pompous, fucking, litt-" Her tirade of insults and slanders abruptly halted when she realized she was now against the wall, his hands like vices on her upper arms. She had not seen him move, and that truly frightened her. She hid that fear under defiant anger as he stared her down, even if her breathing had suddenly become shallow upon realizing just how much at a disadvantage she was. His words were breathy whispers, terse despite the smile on his face. "Please do not make this hard for me. I do not want to knock you out and carry you from here, but I will if you do not cooperate with me. There will be others. You foolishly left your door unlocked. How many more attempts do you think you could survive tonight?" He arched a brow, and his smile turned almost mocking. "Now please get dressed. Your towel is slipping."
His hold on her relinquished and she could feel heat flare into her face as she took in his words. Her door. Her tongue darted out over her lips as her hands went down to adjust the towel. 'So fucking stupid, Misao. You were so distracted by ...him that you forgot to lock the door.' Not that it would not have stopped them from getting in. The locks were crap, but she might have had more of a warning. Not to mention how incompetent that made her look in his eyes.
She should not have cared, but it stung her pride.
Turning on heel, she stormed out of the bathroom, ignoring her gun sitting on the shelf. There were others elsewhere, and possibly easier to access than that one, considering he was standing right there. Angrily, she began to rip open drawers to find clothes to wear, and she did not even bother to see if he was watching as she flung the towel on her bed. She did not want to keep her back to him, but right now she did not care.
"Dress warm."
"Bite me."
His lips quirked upward once more as he stared out the window of her apartment, his foot tapping the floor more out of idle animation than actual impatience. He turned after giving her two minutes and saw her pulling down a long-sleeved black shirt over her tiny waist. His eyes lingered on the pale skin before it disappeared and she moved for her socks and boots. He glanced back out the window only a moment and heard the telltale click of the hammer and sighed.
She stared at him, barrel trained on the back of his head. "Who the fuck are you?"
"We are running short on time."
"I asked you a question. Who. Are. You?"
He sighed again and turned back to her, blue eyes meeting her own. He did not look amused, even if his lips seemed to be permanently tilted up. "For now, I am the Tenken."
She swallowed, but that was the only indication that she knew the weight of the name. There were names that brought fear throughout the underground. Battousai was one. Tenken was another. There were more, but she focused on that piece of information. He was supposedly ungodly fast. Most could not see their death coming by his hand.
She inhaled sharply when he was no longer standing in front of her, vanishing like a ghost. A hand grabbed the top of her weapon, the other settling on her shoulder. She had not seen him move. "Please, just trust me. I have no intention of harming you. This, I promise. If I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead a long, long time ago. I have had a thousand opportunities in the blink of an eye."
His arrogance! His stupid, stupid...!
She bit down the angry retort in her throat. She hated it, loathed it to be true, but after just seeing that, she knew he was right.
She did not realize she was shaking until he gently pride the weapon from her fingers.
"Find you a coat and let's go. I do not want to stay here any longer than we must. Take anything with you that could give information out you do not want."
She shook her head, ripping herself from his touch and pulled on a coat heavier than the jacket from earlier. It was lined with fleece, and while not exactly ideal for the cold outside, it was leaps and bounds above her earlier attire. Finishing with dressing, she grabbed a few things, shoving them into various pockets and then turned to the picture on her shelf.
The Tenken watched her internal struggle on the frame before she scowled and knocked it behind the shelf. "I'm ready," She grumbled as she pulled her hair into a mess of a ponytail.
He tilted his head at her. "Do you trust me?"
Her look held a certain amount of contempt. "No. Let's go."
"Here," He held out her gun. She took it, and the weight suggested he had not unloaded it. "You shouldn't need it, but it never hurts to be prepared."
She scoffed, tucking it into her belt. She didn't have time to get a holster, especially not with the way he was ushering her outside. The cold bit at her, and it would take her a few moments to get used to its kiss once again. She tugged the collar of her coat up a little, shoving her hands in her pockets as she went down the stairs to the parking lot. He stopped in front of a motorcycle at the far end, and she grimaced. "Really?"
He gave a shrug, smiling at her as he seated himself on the vehicle. She stared at him, before finally giving in and sliding on behind him. There were no helmets, and she was not surprised. Her arms wrapped around him, pressing into his coat as her hands latched together at his stomach. She could hear the amusement in his voice, "Guess I don't have to tell you to hold tight."
She said nothing, biting her cheek in irritation as the motor roared to life and he took off, leaving the scene behind them.
Phoe-chan