SHADOWS OF RED
by Hime-kou
Author's notes: More editing! And revising! And general resurrection of Shadows of Red! This is a long chapter, since I combined to overly short chapters. This story is finally improving, I think. YAY! Thank goodness for holiday breaks and lots of time to revise.
Disclaimer: Yesh. Not mine. Nope.
Chapter 3-The Dragon and the Tiger (Rev.)
Hitokiri Battousai was a man of slight build. His height she guess to be around 158 cm. His manners were impeccable. Amber eyes slanted dangerously, glinting from behind strands of scarlet hair—hair which fell over his eyes, messily pulled up into a high ponytail, and cascading downwards into a waterfall of brilliant color.
His eyes…they caught and held, forever burning. A cold flame. But what was the fuel that fed the flame? What was that darkness in the center of the fire? Involuntarily, she shivered. In those eyes, souls could drown and never find eternity. Whatever ease he gave out, it wasn't real. Killer eyes, those were. Eyes that had seen a thousand deaths. And hadn't she?
Slim, but lithe under a blue gi and grey hakama, Battousai filled the apartment with his intensity and power. A killer's aura, tightly kept. But underneath, something else. Rage? Bitterness? Sorrow? Torment? She did not know. She could not read this man.
"Sachiko-dono," he said, breaking her train of thought.
"Katsura-san has come up with something for us to accomplish. Now, I have heard of you…but only once. The Lady Shadow, Hikage-hime, right?" Sachiko laughed bitterly at the nickname.
"Yes, you are correct. Also given the names of whore, evil, assassin, and so on," she said sarcastically. "I'm surprised they don't love me."
Images of furious, tear-filled, grief-stricken relatives swearing at her, shouting, past fear as they saw her standing over loved ones' bodies, silver eyes empty, blood dripping from steel…Women and children killed by her hands for witnessing their family members' murders. They fell under her blade too. She couldn't leave any witnesses.
"I have heard of you too, Battousai. Katsura-san has told me some about you, and other information I have garnered from gossip floating around Kyoto. I hear much, on my assignments." She said the last grimly, and saw an answering emotion steal into Battousai's amber eyes, then flicker away. Gone, like smoke from a fire into the wind.
"You are the most famous killer in Japan. I am honored," she said emotionlessly. "How did you find this house?"
Battousai shrugged. "Katsura-san told me the street and I followed your ki."
Sachiko swore inwardly. Her ki had been masked! How could he have found his way here? This man was a danger to her. He couldn't be underestimated. Yet she was intrigued.
Battousai watched the woman before him. She had silver eyes, dangerous silver eyes. Eyes that sucked the will to live from anyone after staring into their bottomless depths for too long. Eyes that were so empty they were full, filled with emotioins and thoughts he couldn't read or name. Her ki was faint—she probably masked it then. Long, thick black hair, pulled into a high ponytail, not unlike his own. Aristocratic features, worthy of nobility. Ivory skin, creamy white. Shadow-bleached skin. Secret skin.
Slight of build, willowy slim, but undoubtedly strong. Perhaps one or two centimeters shorter than him. Black gi, grey hakama. One undoubtably sharp steel sword, now sheathed. One long katana, also sheathed. This female hitokiri, the only one among them all. Deadly—a killer. Like him…
"Continue, Battousai." Sachiko's voice, hard as her katana, broke the silence. "What does Katsura-san want us to do?"
Battousai looked thoughtful, then said, cautiously, "Katsura-san…some of our men are being killed, and it seems to be by one person—the victims have all died with one slash to the throat. And they were seasoned soldiers too, men who could, and would, fight. A slash to the throat…that took skill."
His voice was reflective, unemotional. To him, death was no stranger. Nor was death a stranger to Sachiko. No longer. Not for a long, long time.
"Katsura-san believes the one doing the killings is the Bakufu's Shadow Assassin. We are to…work together…to find him," he said flatly. "Or her," he added upon thought.
Sachiko stared at him in disbelief. Two hitokiris? Working together? Obviously, this hitokiri for the Bakufu must be pretty powerful. Or perhaps, Katsura knew something they didn't. But still…it went against all of her hitokiri instincts. Plus, she didn't know if she could trust Battousai quite yet—if ever. But Battousai wasn't done.
"We are to stay together in Kyoto for three weeks, "he said stiffly. "Live…together." Sachiko was completely, utterly leveled.
She was a solitary person. She preferred to live alone, fight alone, eat alone. She almost hated the thought of living with this man that could so unsettle her. Scratch that, she did hate this man, waltzing in and telling her what to do. Sent by Katsura, too. She didn't want to get to know him, she didn't want to work with him, holy hell she DID NOT WANT TO LIVE WITH HIM!
"No," said Sachiko flatly. "No, that will not work." Battousai looked just as uncomfortable, as set against the idea. Actually, Sachiko knew that for all her arguments, it most likely would happen. No one dared to go against Katsura. Not even his secret hitokiri. But she could damn well try.
She shook her head vehemently, until Battousai gave a terse growl and bit out, "I don't like it either, Sachiko-dono, but we must obey." His tone brooked no argument. Sachiko had known there never would be one.
"Very well, but don't try anything stupid, Battousai. I'm warning you…" She let her voice trail off and fingered her blade. The man laughed (insufferable, that Battousai!), then stood smoothly.
"Very well, as you said, Sachiko-dono. I believe Katsura has quarters prepared for us on the northern side of Kyoto. I will greet you here tomorrow at nine in the morning and we will head over that way. Arigatou, Sachiko-dono. Oyasuminasai."
With that, Battousai slid the shoji back and stepped out. Sachiko could hear his deep voice speak to Mayumi politely, then Mayumi's giggle. Womanizer, she thought sourly. Must be that red hair.
The night was filled with restless tossing. The faces of her victims came back to haunt her in her sleep.
Michiko—who was she?—screamed and pleaded for mercy as Sachiko slid her katana into her heart.
Waves upon waves of crimson liquid poured from the skies and from the seas. She tossed and turned, hair tangled into ebony knots which would never unravel.
Morning was a welcome relief from the night. The sun was not yet up—she always woke early. Her nightmares refused to let her sleep easily. Detachedly, Sachiko wondered if Battousai ever had nightmares. Did he dream about all those he had killed? Did they reach for him with fingers stained red and dripping with memories? As long as she could recall, she had never had a good night's sleep. Rest eluded her. It was her punishment.
With a groan, Sachiko remembered Battousai's promise last night, and hauled herself up.
She was eating at the low table when a voice called out, "Gomen kudasai." Mayumi-chan ran past Sachiko to answer and called back, "Sachiko-san, Battousai-san's here."
Sachiko laid her chopsticks down angrily. Now he had her serving girl all devoted to him. He really was an insufferable man!
"I know. I'm coming," was her cold reply.
When she stepped out into the genken, she wore an extremely ugly expression on her face. She carried a bag and wore her katana at her side. She was wearing a kimono.
"You look beautiful, Sachiko-dono," said Battousai graciously.
She cursed him under her breath.
"I'm not wearing a kimono because I want to, just to let you know," Sachiko hissed. "The things I sacrifice for you."
Battousai grinned.
Together, they set out towards their new home, Sachiko constantly going through a tirade, under her breath, of how she hated the man in front of her.
"…stupid red hair, kami-sama, like a lighthouse…"
They tried to avoid the large streets. They couldn't very well use the rooftop route in broad daylight, nor could Katsura send a carriage—it would seem suspicious in a not-so-prosperous section of Kyoto. They had no choice but to go through side streets, ducking towards shadows. Battousai was wearing a men's kimono in an effort to hide what he was. But the red hair…inevitably, whispers followed their path.
"Look!"
"Isn't that—yes. That's Battousai. The red hair…stay away from him."
"He killed 100 people in six months, didn't you hear?"
"Who's he with? She's beautiful, who'd be with Battousai?"
Sachiko's anger grew. It threatened to overwhelm her. Battousai, carrying her bag, was stiff also. The words were needling her, like thousands of mosquitoes buzzing in her ears. Stupid civilians with a death wish. She was shaking.
"Battousai's women. It must be. But she looks like nobility. Battousai…damn him. Dog, he belongs in hell."
Battousai's hair hid his eyes but Sachiko could read his ki. It was unfettered, for once, and now it blazed with anger. Anger and…remorse? Yes. Remorse and regret. Sachiko nearly stopped in amazement.
"Why's he here? Ishin Shishi dog."
She knew her eyes were what people called 'simmering'. Apparantly, Battousai was too busy feeling remorseful to do anything. So she held up a hand to him, and turned to face the crowd which had gathered behind him.
"What are you talking about?" Her words were quiet and deadly. "You do not know. You know nothing. Do not dare to judge."
Silence.
Sachiko faced off with the crowd, her silver eyes blazing with anger.
"You will all be quiet after I turn around. You will walk away and keep your lips from flapping, saying meaningless things that puff between your ears. Now."
Battousai was watching her. He could barely contain his surprise. She had been quietly walking next to him, and then she had stopped and confronted the entire crowd.
And cowed them, it seemed. For as she turned away, jaws clenched together in anger, they turned away also. Only a few dared to whisper. The rest left.
"Let's go, Battousai-san." Her voice crackled with fury. He obeyed. It almost made him laugh, to see Sachiko angry. Her eyes were frightening, it was true, but a her pale cheeks were faintly blushed with anger. She looked so out of place in a kimono.
He had been given directions by Katsura and he willingly shared them with Sachiko. The nearest safehouse was in the next neighborhood—close enough if danger truly arrived. Sachiko was still angry. Strangely enough, he felt lighter as he watched her rant about the stupidity of people. She looked ready to hit a brick wall—and break it. They almost didn't notice when the men arrived, a mob of them, running on sake and combined anger. They drew near, waving katanas and shouting.
"Death to Battousai! Ishin Shishi bastard!"
"Blood to blood, let the assassin die!"
Battousai dropped his pack and pushed Sachiko behind him. The mob advanced down the street on both sides, sandwiching Battousai.
"Kill him!"
A stone flew out. It struck Battousai on the shoulder. He didn't flinch—nor did he draw his sword. "Go away. You have nothing against me and I have nothing against you. You would be wise to leave this place." His voice was steely and cold.
Sachiko trembled with rage. With a snarl, she shoved him aside.
"These bastards. I can take care of them too, you know. I'm not a helpless female," she spat. They noticed her.
"It's Battousai's whore. My, what a pretty one."
A man leered from twenty feet away. "Come here, little girl. I'll protect you from scary Battousai."
They had formed a ring around them, twenty feet in radius. Battousai's ki and reputation still cowed them but they were drunk and the sake would overcome their reason soon. Another stone flew.
Then, a rain of them.
Of interest
1. Hikage-hime...the literal translation of Lady Shadow. Hime means princess or lady of noble birth. It's actually quite appropriate for Sachiko...
2. Womanizer...ah! I do not intend to make Battousai into a playboy character. This is Sachiko speaking, the sarcastic, hate-everything-and-everyone-with-red-hair person. She's intent on disliking him because she likes him. She doesn't want to show her weakness, even to herself. Plus he mystifies her and she doesn't want to become unprotected, so she convinces herself of reasons why she needs to hate him.
3.Gomen kudasai...that's what most people call out when they enter another person's house without a doorbell or a buzzer. It's like saying "hello" politely.
4. 158 cm...about 5'3" (Battousai's the same height as me, heee!)
5. Kami-sama...kami are gods in Shinto religion, so it's basically saying, my god. Sama is a polite title added when talking to someone (or something) that has a higher status than the speaker. In actuality, dono, meaning lady or lord, has a higher meaning but sama has been traditionally used with kami.
Thank you so much for reading! Please review.