Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Rurouni Kenshin, whose personalities I have laid into my own twisted plot.
When We Are Alone
By Faablen
Chapter Two: The Agency
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The heels of her pumps clicked as the struck the marble floors, leaving trails of water in their wake. Her footsteps echoed though the air as Kaoru struggled to breathe normally.
'This is normal protocol. Simple, pure protocol.' She pulled a veil from her pocket and attached it over her face. 'Nothing more than routine. Nothing out of the ordinary.' She blinked to reassure herself that the contacts were still in place.
Then, a muffled thud reached her ears and her heart fluttered against her chest. Kaoru spun around, katana drawn and prepared to bring death. Eyes wide, Kaoru scanned the room: empty. Again a shuffling noise and Kaoru's breath hitched. She advanced toward the noise with her katana clutched by white knuckles. Rain splattered against the windows of the spare bedroom. She inched forward, her ears ringing as they strained to hear any abnormal sounds. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught the corner of her eye and her katana ripped silently through the air toward the offender.
The determination in her eyes turned to shock, and Kaoru audibly gasped before bringing the blade to a halt just before it could strike the innocent: a small boy, Senator Dasho's nephew to be exact. Quickly, Kaoru retracted the katana and tried to calm her sporadic breaths. The boy whimpered with pure fear pouring as tears form his eyes. Pity struck at Kaoru's heart before she swung the hilt of the sword to connect to the side of the child's skull. He collapsed, his feeble mewling at an end. Kaoru straightened herself pulling in a ragged breath.
'Focus.' She told herself. 'FOCUS! Now is NOT the time to hesitate!' Anger drove out any hinted fear that might have remained in her veins. 'There is no room for mistakes here! So, get a grip!' Kaoru set her jaw and glided silently from the room.
The search for her victim was short-lived. Senator Dasho- the man she had been working reconnaissance on for the last three weeks; the man that was as corrupted as he was perverted; the man that she had quickly grown to detest with every fiber of being - was sitting, predictably, in his study. She did not knock. She offered no preamble as she drew the katana from its sheath. The Senator sputtered various phrases and accusations, none of which seemed to reach her ears. Anger appeared on his face as he clumsily drew his own blade from his side. The small sword was almost comical next to the girth of the man that grasped it.
"So, my little flower, this is where your true intentions lie?"
She circled, with her blade waiting quietly at her side.
"Tell me, little flower, who sent you?"
Dasho lunged. Kaoru parried with ease, his words falling on deaf ears.
"Come now. Who sent you?" His voice was beginning to choke with fear. And yet, Kaoru had no answers for him. Her eyes were dark and empty. Her only thoughts lingered on the kill, the mechanical swings of her sword. All humanity seemed to have been washed out with the rain.
Her next attacks were delivered against this own sword in a short hacking motion. The clang of metal pricked in the air. Terror had claimed the Senator's lungs as he gasped for his last breaths. Kaoru took one step back before sweeping behind him without prelude. His gasp of surprise was his final voice on this Earth. The katana sliced through the back of his neck, down to cut his spinal cord and pierce his heart. Senator Dasho's body sunk to the floor as Kaoru removed the blade from his lifeless flesh.
Kaoru straightened and pulled the blade through a fistful of cloth. Quietly she sheathed the katana and pulled her cell from her pocket. Speed dial connected her to the Agency.
'Kaoru.'
"It's done." She flipped the phone shut. Her words rang through the emptiness.
A beaded rosary hung heavily in her pocket.
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It was nearly 4 o'clock in the afternoon when the Battousai awoke from his restless sleep. The night had been long, a closing assignment, so the assassin had been granted the morning off – to report at the offices in the evening. The only sort of vacation a Hitokiri might expect.
He dressed efficiently, forced some food down his throat, and set out the door – katana concealed beneath a long trench coat. Battousai set a quick pace as it was nearly a 45 minute walk to Headquarters. He preferred to walk, justifying the unnecessary exercise with his paranoid excuses: He refused to drive around with an identification plate strapped so evidently to his bumper and, simply, he did not believe in the use of public transportation. Just the word 'public' made it untrustworthy. The Hitokiri walked on, quite apathetic to the entire matter.
The dark high-riser that was his Headquarters blended well with the surrounding city blocks. Heavily tinted windows reflected infiltrating sunrays and any curious glances. Battousai slipped through the revolving doors, flashing his authorization to the guard that stood by the elevators.
Six…
Seven…
Eight…
The elevator lurched to a halt. With a swaggering step, the Hitokiri walked out as the doors pulled open. He made a beeline toward one of the back offices. Other workers on the floor consciously avoided his path, knowing the man's powerful and dangerous position in the Agency. His flaming hair was warrant enough to part a crowd but all those who were employed in the towering structure were also familiar with his piercing amber eyes. Horror stories were often exchanged about catching his glance by mistake. A single look, it was said, was enough to tear the breath from your mouth.
The Battousai could almost feel the fear that was sagging in the air as he walked through the cubicles. If he was inclined, he might have smiled. Their blind fear was always means for partial amusement. Unexpectedly, considering the tension in the air, Battousai's strides brought him to collision with a smaller frame.
"Watch-it, Punk!" The smaller form snapped from behind a veil of blue-black hair before continuing on without a second glance.
The Battousai stilled, taking a moment to identify the walking aggravation: an assassin. Her curt style and lack of manners was a painful indicator.
"Tomoe!" The now-identified woman called, "Step! I ain't gonna wait all night for your ass!"
"Keep your sharp tongue down your target's throat, where it belongs, Kaoru. I don't want none of it." A mirror image of the first woman passed in front of him. She paused and looked up at him with dark eyes. "Excuse her."
The first woman scoffed before she began to strut down the hall with her sister at side.
Battousai watched them go with interest. He rarely crossed paths with other assassins that worked from the Agency. Their less than genteel ways had always amused him. However, the grating manners of the twins were not what had fascinated him. The woman – this Kaoru – who had so indiscriminately called him a 'punk' was the same that had managed to entertain his stare the night before. Although, this time, her brilliant sapphire eyes had not been clouded by dark contacts. The Battousai pushed the insensitive woman from his mind as he, at last, made his way toward his original destination.
A rift of air-conditioning ruffled his bangs as the Battousai entered the familiar corner office. A breathtaking view of Kyoto spread from the floor-to-ceiling window panes. Across the metallic floor, the room stood inharmoniously empty save a large gray machine and plaque with the Agency motto engraved in the gleaming gold. The plaque he passed by almost bitterly heading straight to the unattractive collection of gray metal. Mounted near the front was a standard recognition system. The Hitokiri allowed the small red beam scan over an amber iris. The machine gurgled and beeped in recognition. A small tray produced a red envelope: his next assignment.
The foundation and mastermind behind the Agency preferred to deal directly with all high-profile interactions. Unfortunately, disclosing his identity would be a critical danger to the entire organization. Thus the system of the ugly gray machine emerged. The red envelope was just proof that the founder had an ironic sense of humor.
Battousai unceremoniously tore the envelope open and let his eyes run over the sharp, black words. His next assignment didn't start for a few more days: "A man of new money is buying bloody favors into society. Megumi would brief the details." Battousai casually tossed the letter to the steel floor, chased by a newly struck match. The controversial letter burned as he strode from the room to find his infamous Megumi.
Megumi was one of few in this building that wielded respect on all floors. Previously a doctor by trade, her practice collided with the Agency some late night when a desperate assassin sought out medical attention. Since then, Megumi eventually became a general caretaker for all the shadow assassins. Consequentially, the only one who held their identities and weaknesses and respect, all of which make her a dangerous asset. However, with her alone did all assassins find able to express some semblance of compassion, and took her safety and happiness as a personal responsibility. Megumi stood at the head of a fragmented and loveless family of Hitokiri.
Battousai rounded a corner to see Megumi standing with one hand placed proudly on her hip, talking on the phone. The exchange was irritating her, to say the least, as she bit out several curses in little less than a scream. The Battousai stood behind her, feigning patience, as he waited for the rampant woman to hang-up on her victim. Finally, Megumi abruptly threw down the receiver and turned to the red-haired man behind her.
"Battousai. Come for your assignment, I assume."
He merely nodded, allowing the extremely vocal woman to continue at what she did best.
"Well, I'm almost sorry to say that this one's a little unorthodox for you…"
Both were interrupted by two familiar female voices:
"Kaoru, stop sulking and get your whoring ass over here! Megumi's waiting."
"Don't test me, Tomoe! I ain't in the mood for your antics!"
"Are you implying that you're ever in a good mood? Last time I checked, you were running on eternal-PMS."
"Shut-it, slut. When did my gentle sister turn into such a treacherous bitch?"
"Seven minutes after I was born - when you barged into my life."
Two women came into view with a walk that swayed their hips in time. Outside of the cold expression in their eyes, they were very beautiful women. Long dark hair fell over their shoulders, framing porcelain faces with delicate features. Each an identical copy of the other, the only discerning feature between them was their drastic eye color. Tomoe possessed dark, endless eyes, while Kaoru looked at you with rebellious blue.
"Ladies," Megumi ushered the twins over to where the Battousai stood. "I would like you to meet your new partner."
All glances came to collide with distant amber orbs.
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AN: End of Chapter Two. to be continued…
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Faablen