Dedicated to Beriath: Thanks for the proofreading and encouragement! Love you lots!
To all reviewers: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I am most honored.
Kenshin's Brush with Art
Ch. 3: Shopping the Streets of Kyoto is not for the Weak-Hearted
Having spent a fitful night dreaming of dodging Gatotsu strikes with a ball and chain on his ankle, Kenshin woke up and pondered on what he should say to the breakfast table committee to explain his unexpected arrival in the middle of the night. He never got the chance to do so though, because as soon as he had stepped into the dining room he was greeted by an excited shriek:
"Good morning!" Exclaimed Tokio, nudging a man next to her. "Father, look! Here's Battousai I've been telling you about!"
So much for an introduction.
The curse of humanity, Harada Reizo, was seated at the table studying his bowl of cold soba with a contemplative air. He didn't look like Tokio at all: apart from a mass of white frizzy hair, the rest of him seemed to be composed of languidly-hanging limbs, resembling an umbrella frame that had just emerged from the typhoon. At the mention of Kenshin's name, his head cocked a fraction sideways to get a look at the newcomer.
"Oh." He said. And that was it: no gasp of surprise or narrowing of the eyes--- Harada just turned his attention back to the bowl in a totally uninterested manner. Battousai might as well have been the new gardener. Otherwise, his name failed to ring a bell on Planet Pottery.
"Mr. Himura is my newly recruited undercover intelligence officer." Supplied Saitou, before throwing himself on his soba. There was a grain of truth in the statement.
"You're lying." Said a sullen voice from the other end of the table. It came from a boy who looked like Yahiko with permanent toothache, whom Kenshin took to be Tsutomu. He was regarding Kenshin with a disapproving scowl.
Saitou looked amused. "Explain." He commanded.
"I read in books that people who come in the middle of the night dressed in weird clothes are up to no good." Said Tsutomu.
"Such as?"
"Taking your money," Said Tsutomu, his eyes taking on a vague look here. "And going to bed with you. Dunno."
"Those are ladies of the night." Said Saitou, unperturbed. "But as you can observe, Mr. Himura is deficient in some of the more important qualities required for the profession, even though for the less important ones he seems to make the grade…"
Kenshin's eyes, which previously hosted a wounded look, now held the promise of three-months hospitalization for a certain cop.
"I suppose you didn't pay enough for a decent one, then." Said Tsutomu doggedly, unwilling to relinquish his theory.
"Oro???" Kenshin decided that his retribution on Saitou could wait. If removing the Final Masterpiece of Kageaki was civil service, removing Tsutomu would practically amount to the salvation of mankind.
"Nice bit of reasoning, Tsutomu." Mused Saitou. "Keep working on it and you'll become a shrewd copper one day."
"Hai!" Said Tsutomu, turning back to his breakfast smugly.
Kenshin was stopped short of possible child abuse when Harada suddenly piped up. "Mr. Battousai," He said. "Are you acquainted with the masterpieces of Kageaki Yoshi?"
"Sessha…" Kenshin hesitated. He wasn't particularly gifted in the lying department, and it wouldn't be nice to say: "Yeah, and what's more, I've come to steal yours."
Saitou surreptitiously mouthed the words "Don't get him started".
"Sorry, sessha has to go to… the bathroom." Said Kenshin quickly, before darting out with god-speed.
Thus ended the breakfast session.
***
After sending Tsutomu to school (Kenshin secretly hoped it had corporal punishment) with Tokio, the shopping mission commenced. Kenshin wondered how one ought to fire off a gossip conversation, and decided to go for the blunt.
"Tokio-dono," he said. "Is there something bothering you? Saitou told me you seem to be angry about something lately, that he did."
Tokio stopped in the middle of picking over some fruits. "Humph!" Her eyes took on a frosty hue. "And I suppose he asked you to ask me about it?"
Female intuition had never ceased to amaze Kenshin. "Sessha can't hide anything from you, Tokio-dono," He admitted. "Though sessha has not been 'asked' as much as 'threatened' into doing it."
"Typical of Hajime," Sniffed Tokio. "No tact at all."
"Speaking for himself, sessha also wishes to share Tokio-dono's troubles." Said Kenshin, glad that someone finally sympathized with him.
"Indeed?" Said Tokio, her face suddenly brightening. "Then just for your information, one can't help being angry when one has to live with a jerk like Hajime all the time, right?"
That was something of a revelation. Tokio might have the benevolence of a Buddha, but clearly, even gods could only take so much.
"Between you and me," Continued Tokio. "Don't you think Hajime is a callous, heartless and insensitive jerk?"
If Saitou had been any other person, Kenshin would have put in a kind word for him. But one will be hard put to say that a person is not callous when said person has once skewered self to a ceiling. These things tend to stick up in the memory like a sore thumb.
"Forgive sessha for saying so, but sessha agrees with what you just said from the bottom of his soul."
"How understanding you are, Himura-san!" She purred happily. "Don't you think he deserves to be taught a lesson?"
"Long overdue." Said Kenshin wholeheartedly.
"And, you can't expect me to put up with his kind of behavior up to no end," said Tokio matter-of-factly. "So therefore it's HIS responsibility to change for the better."
"If that's possible…" muttered Kenshin to himself.
"Of course it is!" Said Tokio brightly. "In fact, I've already thought of a way by which I can mold him into a kinder and more caring self."
"!" Said Kenshin, with no little admiration. If anyone could reform Saitou, it's either god or Tokio, and Kenshin wasn't sure about the former. "Sessha wishes you the best of luck, then."
"Luck is not a crucial factor," Tokio's eyes flashed with a mischievous gleam Kenshin would soon learn to fear. "However, YOU are."
"You mean sessha? How?"
"Think about it, Himura-san," said Tokio in a conspiratorial tone. "What kind of thing can drive sensitivity and protectiveness into a man?"
"Having his beloved snatched away by enemies who come out of the blue?" Hazarded Kenshin. That was a familiar one to him. Some part of his mind immediately sounded an alarm call. "Oh no… " He jerked and jumped backwards several feet as if he had contacted a live wire. "You're not expecting sessha to do that, Tokio-dono?" He wailed. "I beg you to spare sessha, sessha is in enough trouble with the law already, that he is!"
"Relax, Himura-san!" Tokio cooed soothingly. "Breaching of the law is not a requirement."
"Then what do you want sessha to do?"
"If I tell you, will you help me?" Said Tokio hopefully. "If you want to watch Hajime suffer, it's right up your street."
Kenshin's saner side was urging him to distant himself from this pot of madness, but his darker side was winning. If anything could make Saitou writhe in agony, Battousai's all for it.
"Then sessha will help you," he said, and immediately shielded his eardrums against Tokio's jubilant whoop.
After having composed herself, Tokio looked Kenshin up and down with a frown. "We need to complete our shopping, and with haste." She spoke in a businesslike manner. "Do you mind changing this ghastly shirt?"
"Why?" Said Kenshin, somewhat defensively. "What do you want sessha to do, Tokio-dono?"
"Never mind," she conceded. "We can make do with a bunch of flowers right now."
Kenshin still looked clueless. He couldn't see what that had to do with his inflicting punishment on Saitou, unless the man had a terminal case of allergy to pollen.
"And try to stand up straighter." Added Tokio, who finally seemed satisfied. "Hmm… I'll see what I can do with the rest of you later. Right now we have to go to the Aoiya for lunch."
"Why?"
"Aoiya is the hub of gossip in Kyoto, Hajime is sure to hear of what we do from there." Replied Tokio. "And you," She finished sweetly, "will be my man."
There was a pause.
"Ororororo…" was all a redhead said as he sank gently to the ground into an unconscious heap.
Tokio sighed. It'd take a hell lot of pretence on her part for this to work.
***
Ch. 4: The Woes of Being a Mole.