In the midst of darkness…
We find unlikely saviors.
A web of silence seemed to have befallen over the crowd, the fine silvery threads forbidding the quietest of whispers. It seemed to have brushed Kaoru also, for she could do little but watch in terrible fascination as she stared at the man with flames for hair and golden shards for eyes.
The temporary surprise that had held the Earl in a stupor quickly wore off into full blown anger. Kaoru had never seen him so angry. At least when she had punched him, there was only herself and Tomoe present. He was not embarrassed in front of the whole market.
Ripping his arm away from the man who held it, Vastings glared so fiercely at the stranger, Kaoru was sure that her savior would burst into flames at any moment.
At least, she was quite sure, until she glanced back at a countenance so cold, it would extinguish any attempts of spontaneous combustion. It was strange really, but her savior's calm collection was infinitely more frightening than the Earl's steaming rage. At least, the Earl was predicable if nothing else.
It was always the cold thinking ones that were the most dangerous.
The concept seemed to have penetrated the thick skull of the Earl as well, for he took a moment's hesitation before spewing rocks and lava. It was perhaps the smartest thing he had ever done in his entire life.
Kaoru couldn't say she was pleased for him.
Vastings eyed the newcomer with suspicious scrutiny. The finely tailored outfit couldn't possibly belong to a peasant. The intricate red silks and gold threads were far too elaborate for someone of low rank either. He didn't look like anyone around here—red hair and gold eyes…
Kaoru watched in muted amusement. She swore she could hear the rusted wheels turning for the very first time in the Earl's head. The squeaking from lack of use was deafening.
And then it dawned on the Earl.
Red hair and gold eyes! There was but one man with that combination.
Kaoru watched the Earl straighten, a false smile plastered upon his face.
"The Marquis of Drakgon I presume."
Kenshin smirked. "I see my reputation precedes me."
"Quite." The Earl agreed easily, the bite not far beneath his tone.
If there was one man that could be the poster child for the 'most sought after' Kenshin Himura's face would be blown up and plastered on it. It would be followed by the 'most wealthy,' 'most charming,' 'most elusive,' and perhaps 'the most rakish.'
"However," Kenshin continued. "Your reputation seems to have lost itself."
Kaoru saw the Earl's smile twitch. No doubt in agitation. If there was one thing worse than identifying someone important, it was to have your own importance lost upon them. Kaoru wanted to grin. The Earl of Vastings, for all his hot air, had just been effectively snubbed.
"I am the Earl of Vastings, I would wager that you have heard of me?"
Kenshin smirked. "You would lose that wager then."
A mummer of tense laughter rippled through the crowd. Vastings gritted his teeth, the smile wavering dangerously. Continuing in false amiability, he quipped acidly, "You are visiting I presume, and do not know of the customs here. I am merely punishing a peasant for her insolence as is my right."
Kenshin didn't bat an eye. "I see. Is it also the custom for the Earls around here to whip children and beat women that protect them?"
The Earl bristled, the smile finally crumbling from his face. Like the sludge monster that exploded from the façade of a swan, the Earl bared his ugly side-- all pretenses of niceties lost.
"Stand aside Drakgon, this does not concern you."
Kenshin didn't move—not the least swayed at the Earl's mounting fury.
"Purple doesn't suit you Vastings." Kenshin advised calmly.
Kaoru watched in interest, as indeed, the color of the Earl's face turned from a hideous shade of purple, to an appalling red, and back to purple again. His rage barely contained. Kaoru surmised that if this red haired gentleman wasn't a Marquis, the Earl would have attacked him by now.
"However," Kenshin continued. "If you really insist on punishing this young lady, then I must challenge you to a duel."
The Earl blinked stupidly.
Kenshin cocked his head, the flaming red strands of his bangs falling becomingly across his stunning eyes.
"Does the custom of dueling also escape the English bred gentlemen?" He inquired innocently, the purposeful undertones drawing another nervous chuckle from the crowd.
Kaoru could have sworn that the Earl was about to burst.
"By all means," Vastings snarled. "Let us duel."
"Excellent." Kenshin agreed, expertly drawing an expensive looking sword from the scabbard hanging from his hip. Kaoru watched curiously, she had never before seen such an exquisitely thin blade.
Even more curious, Kaoru watch as this Marquis of Drakgon subtly reverse the angle of his sword, so that the cutting edge was facing away from the Earl. Was this man insane?
The Earl bellowed for his sword, and his footmen hurried inside the carriage to bring out a highly adorned scabbard. Drawing his sword as well, the Earl placed the double edged weapon in front of him.
"The terms are as follows, the first to draw blood wins." Kenshin nodded towards Kaoru and the two children. "They are to go free if I win, and you are not to seek them out for punishment."
"And if I win" the Earl continued. "You will be gone from this place, and I shall take that woman to my manor to do as I please."
Kaoru scowled—the pig.
"Agreed." Kenshin said.
Kaoru trained her startled eyes on the Marquis, unforgettable ceruleans wide upon her veiled face; not entirely sure whether to be pleased that she might be spared from revealing her title, or annoyed that some stranger had taken the liberty of placing her fate upon his shoulders.
He smiled at her.
"I will not lose."
Kaoru nodded at him, saying nothing. Things could be worse she supposed.
Turning back, the two men-- one a Marquis, the other an Earl---faced off in the narrow market street. If the situation hadn't been so tense, it would have been comical.
The faint, excited buzzing of the crowd, told Kaoru that some wily merchant had begun taking bets. And if her hearing was correct, the vast majority of the votes landed on the red haired Marquis.
The Earl of Vastings was the first to move. Charging across the meager distance with practice strides, he whipped his sword down in a quick, hard stroke; the long and deadly blade aimed to mark a hideous gash across Kenshin's chest—starting from the tip of his collarbone to the lean muscles around his hip.
The Marquis of Drakgon swept his thin blade upwards—the clash of the steel resounding, vibrating through the thick air. Like two roaring jaguars the blades met, striking, clawing, battling for dominance—throwing off the rays of the sun in flashing defiance.
--But skill was a power unmatched within the man who held an exquisite blade.
The sword sang as the Marquis of Drakgon forced the Earl back with an upward swing, the delicate metal sharpening as it slithered up the double edged blade, to tower over its rival like the rearing head of a silver dragon.
Vastings stumbled, the hard tip of his expensive boots disturbing the finely grained sand as he skipped a few feet backwards. Digging his heel in, the Earl charged forward once more. Flashing steel raked low—aiming for the tender muscles around sides of the knee cap.
Kenshin smirked, streaking into the air like a red demon as the blade rushed at him.
The board sword bit—and missed, hissing its failure as it gulped in thin air.
The Earl looked up, squinting at the rouge silhouette soaring over his head. Watching as the vermillion bullet descended, striking so powerfully at his weapon that the shock of it raced unpleasantly up his arm in numbing sensations.
Blast the man! The Earl gritted his teeth, eyes flashing as he fought to regain control of his startled blade. Kenshin merely flipped backwards, his long red silks a banner as he landed softly on his feet.
Vastings clutched the handle of weapon with both hands. Sweat soaking into the finely tapered hilt as he rushed Kenshin.
A smirked alighted on the Marquis' face as Vastings hurtled forth. A lighting turn of his wrist simultaneously met, and snaked the double edged sword right out of the Earl's sweaty palms before the Earl had a chance to properly attack.
The crowd gasped, watching the shiny blade twirl in the air, screaming, as it landed behind Kenshin—tip impaled into the ground.
The Earl looked stupefied.
Now, in a situation like this, the most sensible thing to do would be to admit defeat. If one couldn't bear the insult, one would simply wait for the winner to turn his back to receive his share of glory, before one picked up their sword and cowardly stabbed said winner in the back.
It was crude and not very original—but nevertheless, quite sensible.
However, what happened next was nothing that Kaoru had ever seen before.
The Earl of Vastings roared and dived for his sword. Kenshin obligingly, stepped to the side allowing the Earl's body to sail past him, like some terrible ape, to his prize. On the way however, the silver of Kenshin's blade flashed in its descent, the flat side of the gleaming weapon landing in a satisfying wallop on the Earl's plump bottom.
It was sure to leave an unsightly welt for the next couple of days.
The crowd, who had been unnaturally quiet through the entire exchange, erupted in laughter.
Vastings, one hand furiously rubbing his assaulted bottom, grabbed at his sword—yanking furiously, until the ground groaned and gave way, releasing the tip it had swallowed.
Emitting a battle cry that rivaled the feeding time for angry, starved monkeys, Vastings charged at Kenshin, who promptly stepped aside whilst simultaneously knocking the Earl's sword towards the ground. Vastings lost his footing, and stumbled past Kenshin who rewarded him with another slap on his bottom—the resounding crack sending the once dignified Earl sprawling.
The crowd laughed uproariously-- knee slapping, stomach clenching laughter.
Kaoru giggled. While the attack alone was not sufficient enough to divide the Earl's bottom into fourths, it was ample guarantee that the Lord of Vastings would not be sitting for a while.
Vastings turned back, beyond fury—an unearthly scream was emitted as he ran for Kenshin yet again. This time, his sword swinging violently-- Gone was the practiced art of swordsmanship, in its place was a raving lunatic with a shiny weapon.
Kenshin raised his brows.
In a well aimed thrust, Kenshin's placed his blade in the line of the Earl's madness. The Earl, in his folly, slammed the tender part of his own wrist on Kenshin's blade.
He howled, and dropped his sword, his left hand clutching his injured being.
Kenshin brought his blade down, nicking the Earl's neck, right where the Earl had wished to mark him before--
--Ending the match.
"You lose."
The crowd cheered.
Those that couldn't cheer could be found rolling on the ground in mirth. If there was ever a more embarrassing end to a duel, no one could remember it.
Kenshin straightened, sheathing his sword.
A gentle tugging caught his attention, as a small boy – the one that had been the cause of all the ruckus—reached up his small hands. Kenshin crouched down opening his larger ones as the child dropped a token into his palm.
"The lady said to give this to you." He explained, smiling shyly, before running back to his sister.
Kenshin blinked and looked up.
The young woman with the beautiful blue eyes, and ridiculous piece of haircloth tied around her face was nowhere to be found.
Kenshin felt strangely dismayed.
If nothing else, he had wondered about the haircloth.
Glancing down at his hand, he saw a lovely jasmine in full bloom lying upon his palm.
Across the vast fields, through the jasmine gardens, a richly carved door creaked open. Through its meager opening slipped a slender figure dressed in the garments of a peasant girl. Quickly shutting the rather heavy structure behind her, Kaoru Kamiya scurried up the stairs, and dashed across an exceedingly long hallway. With any luck, she may escape encounters with any unsavory mistresses or dimwitted maids that might inadvertently inform her mother, the Baroness Kamiya, that her precious daughter had yet again donned an unacceptable outfit and was seen running unbecomingly through the manner halls.
Of course, that was only if she was lucky.
Peering cautiously around the corner, Kaoru was most pleased to find that the halls were scrumptiously empty.
Picking up the folds of her skirt—Kaoru stuffed the ends of the bothersome thing into her waste line and took off at a sprint. If she could reach the next corridor, then her room was not too much farther away.
Unfortunately, it seemed that luck was in short supply this time of the month, for no sooner had she turned the corner did she come face to face with the head maid. Well—it was more like, face to a very poofy behind. Apparently, the head maid had conveniently bent over just at this precise moment to pick up a runaway rag from the pile in her hands.
Kaoru stifled a startled cry, her hand clutching the general area of her heart in attempts to convince the blasted organ that it was not particularly healthy to skip so many beats, before she opt to turn around. Once again unfortunately, it just so happened that at that precise moment, the head maid retrieved the runaway scalawag and had turned just in time to see Kaoru's back—'almost' disappearing around the corner.
"YOU there."
Biting down a sudden urge to scream, flail her arms, and run around madly in circles, Kaoru carefully turned her face around to exactly forty-five degree angle; the contours of it concealed by her haircloth, which had returned to her head.
A very hoarse and squeaky, "Yes?" was uttered.
The head maid looked confused for a moment—not remembering anyone with such a raspy voice. The troublesome rags however, effectively distracted her from reaching enlightenment as the massive pile of tittering washcloths leaned over threateningly.
"Well don't just stand there you ninny!" The very well endowed head maid proclaimed, waving one fleshy hand in emphasis.
"Come help!"
Kaoru turned, glancing longingly at the hallway behind the maid—blast it all.
Trudging over begrudgingly, Kaoru grabbed an armful of washcloths.
"Go take them to the washroom."
"Yes ma'am," Kaoru rasped—and took off past her, down the coveted hallway.
With any luck (seeing as the blasted element was strictly rationed—and she had all but used up hers for the next three years), Kaoru would be around the corner before the head maid realized that she had headed towards the chamber wing—located in the exact opposite direction of the laundry chambers.
Kaoru watch the corner loom closer…
closer...
Closer…
Just a little more…
"HEY!"
Kaoru ran.
A leather incased foot slid forth silently upon one gnarled branch of a willow tree, slender fingers untwined themselves from the emerald vines as the inaudible clink of various daggers adorning the petite waist met. One long braid swung behind the lissome girl like a riveting viper, caressing the ends of a ridiculously short skirt. Balancing precariously upon the balls of her feet she leaped nimbly down to the next able branch, taking meticulous care to make sure that her royal blue outfit remained in the shadows as she peered through a polished window.
Or, she would have peered through the window, if it weren't for the gargantuan silk web that hung belligerently in front of the glass. Misao peered at the monstrosity, her eyes bulging at what she saw.
There it was-- a spider. Sitting in the center was a big, fat spider.
Yes, one fantastic specimen that Misao prays daily to never cross. This one was yellow and green, no doubt royalty for its species.
A horrified shriek erupted from her throat, only to be muffled by her gauntlet-clad hand as she back-pedaled with death defying speed, rapping her head against the trunk of the tree.
All former essence of a professional spy was gone—in its place was a young girl no more than twenty, stuck in a tree, with – not just any spider—but the king of spiders. Wide saucer like eyes were trained on the royal crawler in morbid suspicion.
Snug, and infinitely happy at her misery no doubt-- The blasted creepy.
"Don't move…please don't move. Just stay there, be happy, and don't move any one of your bazillion legs…"
The spider raised one leg.
Misao's eyebrow twitched.
The spider wiggled his leg—
-- and Misao was gone; up the tree, and through the next window.
Slamming the window shut, she jerked her head to and fro, making sure no bypassing servant had caught sight of her. If they did, she would just have to knock them out and hide them in a boom closet before they recognized her. If they were lucky, someone would find them during the next clean up.
After all, there was no way that she would be caught dead in this state—what a sight she would make. The young charge of the esteemed Duchess Shinomori; mother of Lord Aoshi, running around the Thousand Cranes Estate in nothing short of what looked to be torn underwear.
Goodness, if anyone bypassed her and lived to tell the tale, she would be the hot topic of gossip for the next ten years. Word would spread like some terrible disease, and the following infection would plague her until her dying day.
Worse yet, what if the Baron of the Thousand Cranes Estate caught her? Misao knew that for the good of her continued health, she could not be caught.
"Hide…yes…I gotta hide," Misao sputtered in broken sentences.
Catching sight of a particularly inviting curtain, she quickly made herself scarce. Just as she finished blending into the folds, she heard a flurry of footsteps rush past her, dangerously disrupting her hiding place.
Trying her best to remain inconspicuous, Misao poked her head out from the safety of the curtains in attempts to catch a glimpse of what almost assaulted her.
What she saw was something that strangely resembled a grey pumpkin.
A smile spread across Misao's face.
There was only one being in Europe that would take on the disguise of a living pile of laundry in means of escape.
Kaoru.
As she watched Kaoru reach through the layers of sodden fabrics, hands desperately searching for the doorknob that led to her chamber, Misao slid silently from her hiding place.
Tip-toeing her way towards her unsuspecting friend, she held silent for a second before…
"I HAVE YOU NOW YOU LITTLE BUGGAR!!!" Misao bellowed before she pounced.
Kaoru screamed.
Misao watched with some amazement as piles of rags was sent flying into the air. When the chaos had settled Misao grinned in mirth at a wailing Kaoru sitting in the middle, babbling something that seemed to resemble.
'It's not what you think.'
'I'm really doing the laundry.'
'It's for donating.'
Misao cocked her head to one side. Extending an index finger she poked Kaoru's forehead.
Kaoru toppled over.
Misao blinked.
"What ARE you doing Kaoru?" Misao exclaimed, waving her hands before putting them on her hips. "It's ME! Misao!"
Kaoru sat up, a tad rumpled, eyes ablaze.
"Misao?"
"Yes?"
"I'm going to KILL you."
An hour later found the two girls sitting comfortably on Kaoru's enormous canopy bed. After convincing Kaoru why it was in her best interest not to commit murder before tomorrow morning, and explaining why it was imperative that Misao had not used the window below Kaoru's floor (big spider) – the two girls had taken turns bathing the grim off their bodies before enjoying a delicious cup of hot chocolate.
Kaoru sighed, her long hair loose and flowing, as she leaned back and snuggled into her pillows. The dark satin strands a lovely contrast against her lighter colored sheets. Misao settled contently on her stomach, elbows cushioned by Kaoru's fluffy blankets as she sipped delicately at her drink.
"So how are things at Vienna estates?" Kaoru asked.
It had been several years since Misao Makimachi was orphaned and Lord Aoshi Shinomori had found her and taken her in. The Duke and Duchess Shinomori were both quite taken with the young girl, and agreed to raise her as one of their own. The entire London court had heard of it, how one parentless no-name child had made her way into the higher classed ton—and not just any ton, but the Shinomoris. The title and status of the family alone was enough to send ugly talk raging like wildfire—fanned by the jealousy of less known Lords and Ladies. The more brazen ones outright called her leech. The more subtle ones repeated the name Makimachi in place of Shinomori when they spoke to her- in cruel attempts to remind her of her former status.
Kaoru had paid little attention to the rumors, and was almost oblivious when she ran into the girl at the market. Misao had been mouthing off at some thugs, deflecting their advances with well-placed throws of her daggers. Kaoru, ever the impulsive, had been quick to grit her teeth and help the even the odds. The two girls had, since then, been the best of friends.
The rumors and gossip had since died down. Misao, with the backing of not only the Shinomoris, but the daughter of the Baron of the Thousand Cranes, was ample deterrence for most predators of the ton.
"Oh!" Misao exclaimed, her eyes bright. "I almost forgot! You won't believe what has happened!"
"What?"
"It's the most AMAZING thing in the world!" Misao emphasized happily, waving an arm for emphasis. "You won't believe what Lord Aoshi said to me!"
If there was one thing Misao loved more than life itself, it would have to be Lord Aoshi Shinomori, the dark and handsome heir of the Vienna estates. Kaoru had always thought him a tad broody, but Misao couldn't have been more taken with him. While the prospects of Lord Aoshi suddenly proclaiming his everlasting love hadn't seem very promising within the past couple of years, it was always possible that Misao had since 'wowed' him with her womanly charms.
"Did he tell you he liked you?" Kaoru asked excited.
"Sort of!" Misao nodded, grinning from ear to ear.
Pausing for dramatic effect, Misao stared up at the silken drapery of the canopy bed, her hands folded as if in prayer around her mug.
"He said… 'Misao—would you like some tea?'"
Misao sighed dreamily, no doubt reliving the wondrous event of her life. The milestone in the road that led to Lord Shinomori's heart.
Kaoru blinked.
"That's… very nice." Kaoru nodded, smiling in full efforts to be encouraging. After all, if Aoshi offered tea one day, maybe he would offer a ring in the next couple of years. Who knows? This could very well indeed be a startling breakthrough.
"Well now, let's get some shut eye." Kaoru continued. The events of the day were starting to catch up to her, and seeing that Misao had just scaled the walls of the Thousand Cranes Manor before tackling her—Kaoru would bet that the girl was tired as well.
"I'll formally announce your arrival in the morning," Kaoru continued.
"Okay." Misao agreed, taking her side of the bed.
The following morning was just like any other morning on the beautiful Thousand Cranes estates. The birds were singing, the owls were sleeping, and two lovely young girls were traipsing around the fronts of the stairs waiting for an opportune moment to slip out the door.
Of course, that was where the normality of the day ended.
An unusual bustling seemed to run like an uninvited undercurrent through the Thousand Crane Manor. Servants, and the servants-of-the-servants, ran about dusting vases, wiping the banisters, and re-polishing the floors.
Kaoru Kamiya, whom had been standing impatiently for the past hour, frowned in distaste. In the span of the dreadful hour, neither Misao nor herself had managed to find a scrumptious moment to scurry out unnoticed. If things continued like this, Kaoru was seriously considering Misao's suggestion of hoisting themselves over the second story balcony and climbing down the side of the mansion.
Begrudgingly she watched the skirted bodies go back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth…
Kaoru sighed.
Craning her neck over her shoulder at an equally bored Misao, the blue-eyed girl searched for her sibling. She hadn't seen Tomoe since the last time the goddess of the Thousand Cranes estates mentioned the debuts. Hadn't Tomoe mentioned another suitor? Someone new?
Kaoru would wager that all this commotion was probably due to an unexpected, but 'delightful,' visit from one of those hapless hopefuls.
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Kaoru exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. She was a Lady Kamiya, and damned be any servants or guards that stopped her from stepping outside her own home. Grabbing Misao's hand, Kaoru descended the stairs and with one great tug, heaved open the front door.
What greeted her was a blast of fanfare and a pair of sterling green eyes. Kaoru's heart could have veritably stopped for the second time in the span of two days.
The Earl of Vastings.
What in the world was he doing here?
"Good morn' Lady Kamiya." He drawled, dripping with false amiability as he bowed. "And Miss Makimachi."
Misao flinched.
Kaoru glared.
"That's Lady Makimachi Shinomori to you." Kaoru snapped.
The Earl looked startled for a moment, perhaps realizing it was not a good idea to wage a war with Kaoru at the steps of her own home, before he grinned easily.
"Of course, my apologies my lady."
"Of course." Kaoru agreed, with an expression that resembled more of a baring of teeth, than a grin.
At that moment, the Baroness Kamiya descended down the stairs; an aged beauty that still held the vestiges of her once legendary countenance. Looking at the doorway, she seemed surprised to find the Earl and Misao standing there. Her surprise however, was quickly smoothed over as she floated down the steps. The Goddess of the Thousand Cranes Estate, Lady Tomoe Kamiya came next. Her luxurious dark hair was swept up into a fashionable style, set with precious rhinestones—and she looked equally surprised, if not more so, at the presences, which had invaded the Thousand Cranes manor.
"Earl Vastings, what a pleasant surprise!" Baroness Kamiya smiled, extending her hand to the handsome young Earl. He, obligingly, kissed the tip of her knuckles.
Turning, the Baroness Kamiya smiled at Misao. "Lady Makimachi, so nice to see you!" Smiling knowingly at Misao's attire that suspiciously resembled the one Kaoru had received from overseas a year ago, and since then, had been forgotten in her wardrobe-- Baroness Kamiya hugged the girl. No doubt Misao made an unannounced appearance the night before— but the Baroness greeted her just the same. Misao's spontaneous appearance at the Manor was something so familiar, that the Baroness was always little more than surprised to see the girl there.
Tomoe glided over to Misao, a genuine smile on her face. Slender arms enveloped the girl as she gushed. "We've been wondering when you'd come back to visit us."
"Lady Tomoe!" The Earl exclaimed. Kaoru watched with pity as Tomoe gave the briefest of grimaces before she turned to face the Earl.
"Earl Vastings--" She started. "This is… unexpected."
"Yes." He smiled wolfishly at her, stepping forward to kiss her hand as he whispered looking up, "I am an unpredictable kind of man."
Kaoru bristled, not entirely sure whether she should first gag at the Earl's poor attempts of sensuality, then slam the curd's head with a freshly dusted vase; or beat him silly with the expensive porcelain-- then gag uncontrollably.
Tomoe smiled, pulling her hand back a little quicker than socially acceptable.
The Earl frowned.
Just then, a knocking sounded at the door, preventing what might've seemed to be the blossom of a very awkward moment. Kaoru was only too glad to divert her attention anywhere other than the unsavory piece of male specimen. The doorman quickly opened the intricate and beautiful door.
However, what laid beyond the beautiful oak was something even more startling gorgeous.
Kaoru stared wide-eyed at the hauntingly familiar sight that filled the doorway.
Tomoe smiled, visibly relieved, at his appearance. Kaoru glanced at her. Was that a blush she saw on her sister's face?
"I present the esteemed Marquis of Drakgon." The footman announced.
Five heads turned and stared bewildered— Kaoru looked at Misao who looked back in confusion. Tomoe glanced at the Baroness who, just as quickly, gave a slight shrug in return. The Earl, who looked like someone had just taken a swing at his family jewels, was quick to recover and give the next best thing to a scowl at the Marquis.
Kenshin Himura stepped into the marble hallway, the light reflecting off the crystal chandeliers, enhancing the fierce gold of his eyes.
Kaoru swallowed, looking somewhat wry.
While she wasn't entirely sure what was going on, the situation seemed to have breached the realm of awkwardness after all.