Chapter 5: Cold Glances, Bold Chances
"So, Akira Kiyosato, have you taken to my proposition after so much time?"
Akira watched under a calm pretense as Kanryu slinked behind his desk. His movements as furtive as a snake's, Akira noted. The powerful man sat down in the leather chair, the movements causing slight sounds in the seat. He reclined, a glass of liquor on the corner of his desk and a box of cigarettes not too far away. As Kanryu began his interrogation, he brought out a slender, white stick and placed it between his lips while he searched for a box of matches.
"Yes. I don't think my business can withstand the propositions I have been given from others. My business is suffering." Akira explained, eying his movements nonchalantly.
"So, one of Shishio's men has already been knocking on your door..."
"Unfortunately." Akira muttered almost bitterly.
Kanryu looked up at Akira as he lit his cigarette. A smile was tugging as his thin lips. With a much needed exhale, Kanryu tossed the blown-out match aside and looked at his potential client with his usual confidence.
"I can tell that you'll fit right in, Kiyosato-san. Your business is very successful, and to continue the profits, I'll just need a slight down payment. Nothing much. Just a fee for protecting you from any harm."
Kanryu's words went in and out of Akira's ears, his thoughts were on the day when he was forced to go into this. Saitou's devious smile and slanted eyes, the request from the police chief, the visitor from Shishio Makoto-another big business entrepreneur in Kyoto, a rival of Kanryu's, and then the final descent into the agreement. It was taxing on Kiyosato, but it was to put away two criminals. And if it would bring honor back to his mother and his deceased father, all the more he wanted this position in history.
* * *
"Akira, we have made a lot of money, wouldn't you agree?" his mother asked as she sauntered into the backroom.
"Yes, mother." Akira replied absently with a nod.
His attention was on the bills all spread out on the small table. He calculated over all the money they had and made a distinct pile for each payment when his mother decided to check on him. She looked over his shoulder and patted his shoulder with pride.
"I'm so proud that I have a businessman son. Your father would be proud." she said with a smile gracing her small face.
He smiled at her statement and replied, "He'd be even more proud if we could make more profits, also."
"Akira!"
Their conversation was interrupted with a piercing scream. The Kiyosatos were shocked and the son stood up, confusion crossing his features.
"Akira! Be careful!" his mother yelled, but he was already in the kitchen, on his way into the dining area.
His swift walk brought him face-to-face with the intruder. A young man, a boy to Akira's eyes, stood in the middle of the restaurant with a smile on his face and a group of men behind him. But the boy carried a sword-illegal in these times- and it was unsheathed in his hand. His suspicions arose, and he stomped over to the boy.
"Listen, I don't need any disturbances in this establishment. Please leave." Akira almost barked.
"Kiyosato-san, I only wish for a little of your time. That's all." he said with that smile still plastered on his face.
Akira looked around, staring at all the customer's faces. They were all scared and backed up against walls or behind their tables. His eyes rested once again on the boy in front of him, but this time, he, too, was smiling.
"Please step outside, and we can talk." Akira spoke calmly.
"Thank you, Kiyosato-san."
He put the sword back in its sheath and proceeded out the door with Akira and his men not far behind. The waitresses tried their best to calm down the people, and the room resumed to eating once more. Though sake was an order made by many after the owner and the intruder left. Meanwhile, Akira had confronted the intruder, both of them with smiles, enough to make anyone uneasy. The men with the both wandered off a few feet away, awaiting for him to return with them.
"Shishio-sama wishes your compliance with his offer, Kiyosato-san."
"I've already been made offers, and I prefer to be independent."
"Everybody needs protection, Kiyosato-san."
"Not I. My restaurant is doing fine on its own."
"But what about if any mishaps happen? Say someone comes in and just cuts your tables into splinters then terrorizes your customers. What kind of owner would you be if you couldn't prevent that or end up losing your life in attempt to handle the situation on your own? I mean, the outcome would be catastrophic and your mother," he caught Akira's unease and falter of his smile as he mentioned her, but continued on, "She would probably go into depression and not be able to handle the restaurant on her own. Then she would be on the streets. Wow, Kiyosato-san, I see a lot more good than bad, do you understand?"
Akira didn't answer, he just stood staring at the boy. He regarded him for a second, memorizing this unrecognizable menace in his mind. He had thick brown hair, matching brown eyes, well-structured nose-he was the epitome of a handsome young man. But his smile was always there and it seemed nothing could bring this kid down, not even when he threatens someone about their family. It made Kiyosato sick. He tightened his fist, restraining himself from making any rash judgments.
"Who are you?" Akira asked.
"I'm Soujiro Seta, right hand to Shishio Makoto." he replied, his smile broadening at the mention of his name.
Akira didn't speak, he just stood silently. Soujiro, taking his cue, took a step back.
"Well, Kiyosato-san, I hope to hear from you soon, ne?"
He pivoted on his heel and walked away, getting lost in the crowded street. Akira was still angry-at himself, at his father's poor choice in investments, Saitou, and the boy who had just departed.
"Interesting, isn't it? Soujiro looks like he's fifteen, but did you know he's actually twenty-two?" Saitou's voice stated as the smell of cigarettes engulfed Akira's senses.
"You know a lot about the people you want other's to put away, don't you?" Akira asked, a wry smile on his face.
"You seem to mock my virtues, Kiyosato. Don't make a habit of it. Or one of these days I could make use of this Japanese sword and slit that throat of yours."
"Now you're threatening my life? You really never fail to surprise me."
Akira turned to meet the cop.
"I told you I could cause quite a stir if you didn't come to a quick decision, did I not?"
"What did you do?" Akira growled.
"I might've spread word around about your little business, had some of my own men come and attack your little place. Just a little something..."
Akira was on the brink of killing him with his own bare hands.
"You mean to say that those men with that guy was yours? If you have spies in there, why do you need me?"
"I only have them with Shishio. Kanryu is harder to sneak into since all his men are people he has' conquered in business."
"I can't believe I agreed to this..."
"Keep up that smile, Akira, or your mother might suspect you're going face-to-face with a dangerous man."
Akira's mood darkened, and he stomped past Saitou, who had a satisfied smirk set on his taut face.
* * *
"So is it a deal, Kiyosato-san?"
Kanryu's galling voice crept back into Akira's attention, and his eyes focused more on the businessman. At that moment, the young man felt a lump rise in his throat, and he shifted in the silk, western-style chair. Kanryu was glued to this opportunity in this young boy. He was getting impatient for the answer. Akira cleared his throat, shifting once more and letting his hands find comfort in the warmth of his sleeves.
"Of course." he simply said with the best smile he could muster under the circumstances.
The last thing, and the only thing Akira could remember from that meeting, was Kanryu's toothy grin.
* * * * * *
Akira trudged home, cold and weary. The weather had turned rather cool in the last month, but for some reason, the weather chilled him to his bones whether he was wearing warm clothes or not. Like the millions of times before, he opened the gate to his property, only to be greeted with the shadows of the night. He caught his breath as he saw the petite form huddled against one of the porch beams. His mother was only dressed in her yukatta.
He shook his head with a smile, and tread towards his obviously-worried mother. His hand rested upon her cheek and he felt her cooled skin while her shallow breaths could be felt lightly upon his wrist. He took a step back, removing his coat and placed it over her shoulders. She stirred with the new applied heat and returned back to her peaceful slumber. Akira could only admire the sight before him before he looked up at the sky, releasing a puff of white from his mouth with a single sigh.
His eyes softened at the sight. White flakes began to fall from the heavens, drifting to the ground below. It was finally time for winter. Even on these nights, his childhood was not lost to his mind. He could still remember his mother so long ago. Her sobs filled the house, and Akira had heard it all. He was sitting right where his mom was the first night he spent without his father. His mother had cooped herself up in their bedroom, crying, all night. She did not even come to take Akira to bed. Since then, he had learned to take care of his mother as a good son should, and take care of his father's business, the only legacy left for the Kiyosatos. Since then, he had always taken great care of his mother-always. But now, he wondered what his decisions would do to his beloved parent.
Carefully, he picked her up in his arms, and carried her to her room. With his foot, he slid the shoji to a close behind him, locking the cold out of their humble home.
* * * * * *
Tomoe sat by her window, watching the snowflakes fall from the sky, onto her windowsill. It was the first winter night. She sighed and slowly picked up her brush, dipping it into the ebony liquid in the small container. Before her, a journal was open, the pages cleared of any ink blots or strokes. As if it were commonplace, she began to paint characters on the page. When she placed the brush aside, finishing up the words, the characters represented "Yukishiro".
"Snow generation..." she said morosely, and lay her head down next to the book.
Please don't leave him...
Her head throbbed. The pain flickered with her candle lit off to the side.
Please stop...
Her words from her past just wouldn't stop blaring in the midst of the pain.
Love is a foolish word, a foolish emotion that is just an illusion of the times.
How could she have become so hard? Her heart was destroyed along with her family. And her father's false words rung in her ears. Those harsh misleading words that gave her hope, but shattered her in the end. She closed her eyes as sleep overcame her, claiming her to a black, empty dream.
I love you, Tomoe...
* * * * * *
The party was boring that night, and Tsukioka-san was nowhere in sight. He had decided to ditch the party earlier for an inspirational painting. Katsura, the host of the party, claimed that he was an artist truly inspired by spur of the moment things. So, taking the hint that we hadn't any business there, Aoshi decided it was time for us to make our leave after a few seatings through some sake. It was on that night, Aoshi had shown me that maybe he still had yet to show me his humanity.
"Aoshi-san, it's snowing!" I exclaimed.
The older man brushed it off along with my naivety as I caught a few snowflakes in my hand, only to have them melt.
"You know, when I was younger, before I realized how much the other kids hated me, my father and I were immersed into our own little world." a faint smile came to my lips as I spoke, "We used to play in the snow. My father would always throw snow at me, and we'd build forts."
Aoshi didn't speak. I looked up to him, curiosity creeping into me.
"Do you have any fond memories of the snow?" I asked innocently.
We walked for a while, but he didn't answer me. He had brushed me off as nonchalant as he always was. I frowned.
"What do you have against me?" I asked.
Again, he did not reply and kept on walking, but this time, without myself trailing behind him. He noticed my absence and turned to see me staring up at the sky, bundled up in my warm kimono. He approached me, and stopped a few ways to observe. At the moment, my eyes lacked the certain spark I had when he first met me, but the smile was still there just the same. My cheeks were a bit flushed from the cold that nipped at my skin, and for a brief second, he saw my bottom lip quiver.
"Let's go to the teahouse now." he said firmly.
My eyes shot to his, and bore into them. My gaze was as firm, and my mouth set into a grim line.
"Why don't you talk to anybody?" I asked; the smile had disappeared from my face.
"You are not my friend." he snapped.
"It couldn't hurt to have one, Aoshi-san."
"Stop talking to me and just get moving."
"Do you know what your nickname is, Aoshi-san? Do you? It's 'Ice Blue Eyes'." I stated.
He eyed me with a lack of interest.
"And what does that mean to me?" he asked.
"You don't care?"
"Should I?"
"What are you?! Just one of Kanryu's puppets? Don't you think for yourself?"
"There is no need to. My loyalty is to Kanryu, and my life is his. I don't question it, and neither should you."
"Why are you so loyal to a man like him?! You must have a reason. Everybody has their reasons for being at that God forsaken teahouse, what's yours?"
He glowered down at me, and stared at me briefly. His eyes were unreadable, the iciness edging their way into the warmth of his blue orbs. As soon as I knew it, I was enveloped in warmth, and my back was against a wall. His hands pinned my arms to the wall, keeping me in place. I could feel Aoshi's breath upon my face, his eyes were leveled with mine.
"Don't pry into my life. You have no right, not one." he said through gritted teeth.
"Aoshi-san..."
I was afraid of him. All I could remember was the first time I met him, and that God awful metallic smell consuming me. It made me shiver involuntarily. He caught it, and loosened his grip on my upper arm, but still showed his anger through his firm hold.
"Kaoru..." His voice was soft, almost husky as his bangs brushed against my forehead, "You must not ever analyze me. I am beyond any help, and it's doubtful that even a small, prissy girl can ease me in any way."
"Aoshi-san, please-."
"No. Collect your wits and go back to the teahouse with me. That is not a request."
He released me and backed a bit away. His tall form was dark against the clouded, dark sky. The snow fell around us, blanketing the ground and his shoulders in the small white powder. I could not help but catch my breath even in such a state of fear. His presence in this setting was meant to be admired. He was so enigmatic, who was I to question anymore? He preferred his solitary life. It was doubtful I could find some solace in a man like him.
* * * * * *
Aoshi escorted me to my room as usual. I was pretty much to myself by the time we had reached my door. My body language expressed it very much. I had my hands holding each other in front of my lap, and my head was tilted downward. He cleared his throat as he opened the door, but I still had not acknowledged our arrival. My face was devoid of emotion as he spoke to me.
"Rest up. I will be escorting you to a Sumo match tomorrow. Katsura has invited you, and thinks you would be an appropriate presence."
I could only look at the corner of my dark room, where my futon was ready to be rolled out. I was exhausted, and I had yet to go to classes with Tomoe early the next morning. I walked into my room, and closed the door behind me, disregarding his presence as he spoke an almost silent "good night". With a sigh, I leaned my back to the door frame, letting my head loll to the side.
I had not heard Aoshi leave me yet. And I still saw his shadow in the crack underneath my door. My door was the same wood as my walls, and had something called a door knob. I hated this new design layout of the teahouse. I wasn't used to it. Everything in the women's quarters were styled in a western motif, while Tomoe and Megumi's rooms remained in the old Japanese style with rice paper covered doors and their own sake and tea sets. They, themselves, owned half of the top floor of the women's quarters plus the more elegant of the kimonos. That's how everyone knew that they were the most important out of us. I had heard that Aoshi was their guardians when they first started here. I wondered how old Aoshi was. He seemed young, but not a teenager. His age was masked with a face not marred by any scars or wrinkles, yet his eyes held years of pain, cold feelings, and wisdom.
I decided, after a moment of lingering near the door, I would get ready for bed. I tread toward the futon and unrolled it, letting the thick material fan out on the wooden floor. I looked up as I began to untie my obi, his shadow had disappeared from the doorway. He was gone.
* * * * * *
"Kaoru, you are not listening to me. Sit down." Tomoe said firmly.
I sat, with my hands in my lap, and a rather irritated appearance. She sighed with a shake of her head, and locked eyes with me. Her eyes showed true patience, even though at the time, I was surely lacking what she was graciously doing.
"Stop walking like a boy. You are a woman. Now stop the bounciness. I will tell you straight out that I will not have such awkward grace from you. As my student, I expect you to do as I have instructed. Start over."
I rose from my seat as gracefully as I could and began to walk across the room in the getas. My instructor scrutinized every detail of my walk and sighed again.
"Stop." she said in an even tone.
I did as I was told and pivoted to meet her eyes.
"Imagine that you are a woman who boasts her assets well-shall we say-."
"Megumi-san?" I interjected as a joke.
Tomoe smiled and emitted a soft giggle, but regained her composure, giving me a stern look.
"If you must, watch her, but don't be as provocative as she. It will only make you come off as more than what you truly are. You don't want to mislead men with your lack of experience."
"Then how will I ever get a man if I don't pretend I know what I'm doing?"
"Because they will know when they ask you for your services and you seem to be unpenetrated."
I paled at her statement, catching the meaning of it all. She looked at me as if the thought hadn't phased her, and that I was too naïve to even suggest speaking about it.
"Tomoe-sensei-."
"Kaoru, forgive me. I didn't mean to say that." she said softly.
I eased and slumped a bit, which caught her eye.
"And what have I said about posture?" she almost growled.
I straightened once again, and she smiled.
"Good. Now, let us begin again. I have to perform tonight at a special party, and you're going to a sumo match. Time is of the essence, and Aoshi-san is very punctual."
* * * * * *
I retreated from the Teahouse with Aoshi-san once more. He and I spoke in short sentences, I replied mostly in one or two words. The tension between us was more than what I could bare. I began to despise the time I spent with him, and even the day that I asked him to bring me to Kyoto. I hated him with all my being then. But while I was spiteful, Tomoe became curious of Kanryu's new business partner. Akira was invited to a special soiree that night. One of the high society, and Tomoe, of course, was Kanryu's date along with Megumi. How could she not be there? Akira was invited because of his wealth and big business, plus his ties with Kanryu that had just commenced. At the party, there was music filling the air, and the smell of sake at each table. The young businessman felt somewhat uncomfortable at his seating, reminding himself that it was all for Japan. He tried to imagine himself as his friend, Okita, and how he always accepted invites to parties for the benefits of associating with the other upper classmen. Even in that crowded room, Akira felt alone.
"Tomoe, are you all right?" Kanryu asked tentatively as he grazed his hand along her wrist.
She snapped out of her stupor and turned to her employer. He had a toothy smile on his face, one that she had grown accustomed to. She smile faintly, and put her hands in her lap, recoiling from his touch subtly.
"I am fine. I just wonder when this party will liven up." she commented.
"Hm...it seems that Akira is down." Kanryu noted and Tomoe turned her gaze to where he was gazing, "Why don't you join him for a bit while I have Megumi liven things up?"
"Megumi...?" she murmured in disbelief.
"Of course, Megumi! She can't get to Akira like you. You have great people skills. Megumi would just seduce the poor fellow."
Tomoe looked over at Megumi, who had heard the comment. She bowed her head away from Tomoe and began to retrieve more sake. Tomoe knew that Megumi reached for more than a reputation of a whore. It pained Tomoe to see this, but it was Kanryu's wish. Who was she to disobey?
"I will go see him now." she said softly as she rose from her seat.
"That's my girl..." Kanryu said with a hum of satisfaction before calling to his other escort, "Megumi! Come to the table and join me."
Megumi took her place beside Kanryu as Tomoe sauntered to the table a few ways off. The seat next to Akira was conveniently unoccupied and he was surprised to see her sit next to him. He took a sip of his sake and placed it down gently before catching her presence. He turned and cast her a casual smile.
"Hello, Tomoe-san." he greeted.
"Hello, Kiyosato-san." she said in turn.
They both sat, uneasy of each other's presence. Tomoe shifted in her seat slightly, and turned to meet him.
"I'm sorry for my behavior before." she said almost inaudibly.
He turned to see that she had her head tilted down a bit, and smiled warmly.
"I'm glad. I don't wish to have any ill feelings for anyone..." ...except for a select few... he inwardly added.
She fumbled with her hands as she spoke, and turned to him.
"Well, I see you've become acquainted with Kanryu-sama." she stated.
"Yes. He is a very good businessman, wouldn't you agree?" he replied with a wry smile before turning to his sake cup.
She smiled bitterly.
"Indeed..."
He put down his cup, and resumed conversation with her, even though he felt it wasn't right to talk to someone associated with Kanryu. Yet, he felt like a hypocrite just thinking it. He was working for the Devil, too.
"How long have you been with Kanryu?" he asked casually.
"Longer than you think." she murmured.
"Aa."
He didn't question that any further.
"So what do you do in your spare time?" he asked.
She blinked in confusion, and turned to him in a state of shock. No one had asked her that before. She began to stutter.
"I-I-."
"...love to draw?" he asked sheepishly in attempt to guess.
"No." she responded.
"Sing?"
"Oh. Heaven's no."
"Dance?"
"Well, that's a start."
"Are you toying with me?" he asked with a bit of amusement in his tone.
She held back a smile, and cleared her throat.
"What do you like to do in your spare time?" she threw back at him.
He put his hands on his knee and looked to be pondering on what to respond. A smile was always on his face as he spoke animately.
"I love to drink."
She giggled at his answer, and he looked at her in confusion.
"What?" he asked.
"You look so proud to say you're a drunkard."
"I'm not a drunkard. I know when to stop. I'm responsible."
"Yes, you're a responsible drunk." she teased.
"Hey!" he exclaimed in disbelief.
She cleared her throat once again, and turned to pour him some more sake. He watched her hands as she delicately, and ever so expertly, poured it with just enough elegance. He enjoyed viewing what little ivory flesh she exposed to his eye, but he had to remind himself that she was a common woman at the teahouse-nothing more. He snuck a glance at her and she had caught him doing so. Their eyes met for a brief second, but they looked away just as subtly as they had glanced. Both brushed aside their reactions, and pretended as if it were just the atmosphere of the party.
"So Kiyosato-san, what do you do?" she asked as she took her seat once more.
"Oh, I own a restaurant, a successful one in these parts."
"Do you cook there once in a while?"
"Oh no! I burn water."
"I cook once in a while at the teahouse..." she said to the table, as if she were ashamed to say it to him.
"You cook?"
"Yes. I've heard I cook well. I'm somewhat proud. I learned to do so when my mother died."
"Your mother died?"
He looked to her in interest, and she found that what she had slipped out should have never been said at all.
"Yes. A long time ago." she said curtly.
Akira, noticing the tension suddenly building up in her, decided to be polite and change the topic off of her.
"Well, my father died a long time ago. He died of a sickness we couldn't quite place. He was a samurai, left with very little money after the war. But with that little money, he invested into a restaurant, which became so successful because of the famous dishes, that it grew. He left it to me when he died, as well as the burden of my frail mother."
"Your mother?"
"Yeah..." he seemed to linger morosely on the thoughts of his mother and for a brief second, the smile had disappeared, "She takes care of the restaurant most of the time, and she takes care of our house. Even though I'm grown, she can't help but worry about me when I'm out late."
"She's your mother. Of course, she'd worry."
At that moment, he felt a little uneasy talking about his own mother and father. He chuckled nervously.
"Isn't it odd? You lost your mother, I lost my father..." he trailed off to stare at his still-full sake cup.
She regarded him and his reaction intently. He seemed to always hide his feelings with this smile, this glorious smile. And she would hide behind a cold front. They had different methods, she decided, but they were the same.
"Do you like the sake?" she asked.
He came out of his trance and took the cup in his hand. Taking a small whiff of it, he raised it to his lips and drank the liquid, letting it fill his throat to be coated with the strong liquor. He put the cup down, regarding a bit as he swirled the contents around a little.
"It's good."
She smiled faintly with a small hum of content that resided in her throat.
"Good."
* * * * * *
"Dosukoi(1)!"
The shouts of the bulging sumos could be heard as they rammed into each other, both grasping some footing while they tried to flip one over by their only bit of clothing. Near the front of the ring, that is where Aoshi and I sat with a famous politician named Katsura Kogoro and his friend, the well-known artist, Tsunan Tsukioka. I sat beside Tsukioka while Aoshi sat beside Katsura. I sat in a fine kimono that Tomoe had gave to me as a present for the night. I was afraid that she would be offended if I refused the give in terms of being polite, so I accepted it and she showed me one of the few smiles she rarely showed. Another woman of the teahouse helped me prepare for the special occasion, putting my hair up in a bun with some beautiful jeweled hairpins. I wore a dark blue kimono with dazzling yet subtle designs of birds and jasmine flowers. My obi was black, to match the darkness of my hair, or so the woman said. I was proud to be wearing something so beautiful, even if it wasn't exactly as expensive as Tomoe's or Megumi's kimonos. At least it was better than that tattered, plain kimono they first gave me.
"It is a splendid match, isn't it?" a baritone voice asked me in such a congenial manner.
I turned, but didn't meet his eyes completely as I spoke. It was none other than the man Kanryu wanted me to seduce, Tsunan Tsukioka. He was charming as all the women described, but he wasn't as flirtatious as I thought he were to be with our first meeting. He was very polite, a gentleman through and through. It was probably his looks that threw the women into a state of lust. His long ebony hair was left to pool at this shoulders, giving him somewhat of a dangerous look. But his eyes, were a fathomless blue that were so inviting and enchanting all at once, it consumed your interest.
"I'm afraid I don't really know much about sumo wrestling, aside from what little I was taught when I was younger." I replied.
"Well, I'll be! I've finally met someone who doesn't have a clue as to what's going on!" he said with a deep-rumbling chuckle.
"Pardon me?" I said in confusion.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm in the same boat as you. I just know that one of them has to go down, and I'm putting my bet on Akinoshima, because he looks bigger." he said with a delightful wink.
I blushed a bit, but thankfully he had been watching the match. His attention wasn't delayed for long though.
"Well, I don't believe we've met. I'm Tsunan Tsukioka." he said with a courteous smile.
"I'm Kaoru Sasaki."
"Yeah. You're the girl that Aoshi has come in with. You must be something because he's a little irritated with you."
"Oh really?" I said coyly.
"Yeah. I've known Aoshi for a while, and I've never seen him so pissed. Congratulations, Miss Sasaki. You've gotten my full, undivided attention."
And that's how Tsunan began to court me, and I began my seduction of the influential artist.
* * * * * *
"I love my job and my family. I'm content. But my mom insists that I get a wife before I'm old and gray." Akira said with a chuckle.
"Well, you are past the age of marriage..." Tomoe inserted.
"Well, what about you, Tomoe-san? Do you plan on staying with Kanryu for the rest of your life?"
The two had been talking all night, oblivious of their surroundings. The party had been in full swing, and Tomoe had only left the table once to entertain with her dancing and presence. After that, she found herself attracted to the seat next to Akira, and like a magnet, she came to it. Akira's smile found a special place inside her that night. Something about it intrigued her, glued her to his side. She had never been so entranced with a man before. Not even the many suitors could give her what Akira was dishing out.
"I-I will stay at Kanryu's side until I die."
"And you're content with this lifestyle?"
"As you are with yours."
"Why is it that I don't believe you?"
She bit her bottom lip and a shadow loomed over the two. She looked up to see Kanryu and Megumi standing before her.
"Tomoe, you have done so well tonight. Akira, has she cheered you up some?" he asked with a hint of the sharp tooth in his crooked smile.
"Yes. She has been a delightful entertainer. Thank you for your concern, Kanryu-san." Akira stated.
Tomoe took Kanryu's hand that was offered to her, and she stood up from her seat. She looked at her boss, who had this glint in his eye. One of those looks he gave her when he desired her. She shuddered involuntarily.
"Come, Tomoe. We need to go home."
She nodded in compliance and followed him out of the room. She did not turn back to see Akira, even though she wished to. Megumi, walking beside her, narrowed her eyes to her companion. Tomoe's cheeks seemed a bit flush, and she caught a trace of a smile. In curiosity, Megumi turned around to the see the young man they had left behind. Sure enough, she saw his handsome physique and his brilliant smile. He was staring into his sake cup as a woman poured him some more. Megumi wished that something hadn't happened between Tomoe and him, otherwise, her friend was doomed.
* * * * * *
Drowsy jade eyes opened up to see an unfamiliar ceiling. The small teenager turned onto her stomach to see better and get more comfortable. The room was warm, she could feel the heat radiating from the fireplace on the other side of the room. Slowly, she propped herself up from the bed with her elbows, and sat up. Her tattered kimono was still in tact, and she herself did not seem harmed. But her head still retained the memories of what happened last. The "bad" symbol flashed in her mind. What had they done with her now?
"You're finally awake, eh, weasel?" a dark voice asked.
Misao's head turned in every which way to find who had spoken to her, and her eyes rested upon a man in the corner of the room. He sat hunched over with something in his hand that he kept shaking. As he stopped, he released it, letting it go onto the ground. They were dice.
"Evens. Six and two." he murmured.
She regarded him from her distance and saw that it was the same man who had taken her away from the streets and brought her into the sparsely furnished room. He lifted his brown eyes to see his captive and gave he a smirk.
"So you're Misao Makimachi..." he said and snorted, "You're not all that great. I wonder why Shishio-sama would want you..."
"Shishio-sama..."
Fear arose in those few syllables, and her eyes widened.
"Who are you?! I know you're one of Shishio's men! What's your name?" she asked angrily.
"I'm Sanosuke Sagara. You best pipe down, weasel, or I'm going to have to make you shut up." he said coolly.
"Well, you wouldn't be calm if the one person you weren't supposed to he in possession of has you!" she snapped.
"Listen, weasel-!"
"Stop calling me that stupid name! My name is Misao, you dolt! Get it straight!"
She chucked one of the blankets across the room, and it landed right before him on top of his dice. He laughed at her and took the blanket, placing it over his shoulders.
"Well, thank you, Misao." he said with a chortle.
Misao was scared, angry, and irritated at the same time. She wished that she could throttle this man's neck, and leave him, to run away from Kanryu and Shishio both. But it wasn't to be. She was so frightened. And instead of doing more to provoke Sanosuke, she curled into a ball and cried. Sanosuke stopped laughing, and watched in concern as the tears came pouring out.
"Aoshi-sama..."
Reader's Reference:
1 – Dosukoi – a phrase sumo wrestlers say during a match
Author's Note: I confess! I did put a little TxK (Tsunan x Kaoru). It was inevitable, people! How many times do you see a pairing like that? And I told you I was going for oddness in here! Anyway, I hope you liked the fluff in this chapter. I couldn't help myself. I had to start something sooner or later, and I thought sooner. I'm trying to get out of my writer's block for my other RK story, but it's coming along, slowly but surely. I have a dance concert coming up, so I'm going to be busy again. We're doing booty-shaking, baby! I've gotten addicted to that song "Desert Rose" by Sting. Anyway, I will try to write as much as I can. Sorry about the changing of my rating. I changed it because I doubt I'm going to go lemon in here, and if so, I'll keep it like this for the time being. There's nothing out of the ordinary that we don't see in movies or TV everyday. So, as always, read and review! ^.^
Response to Reviewers:
Sarryn - I have a reason for why Kaoru knows all these things. It is in first person, and true to it. You just have to find out through the story. It's okay. I love constructive criticism. Maybe I should warn people that there is a reason, but maybe after I've finished it. Thanks for your input though!
Yuki – Thank you for the compliment!
Soda-Cola-Pop – I'm glad you like the story. I enjoy odd pairings. And it just bugs me to death how nobody really considers Akira and Tomoe's love! I mean, there was love before Kenshin, though I love my Kenshin very much, he is mine! Bwahahahaha! *Oro?*
FuryGrrl – Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoy the odd pairing!
