[A/N] Exactly what the title says. Don't forget the crowd of giggling girls. And it's not like he knows how to put it on, either. Poor Kenshin...
The Battousai, Wearing A Kimono
A deadly silence hung in the air. The Battousai, feeling a strange nervousness whirl in his stomach, stayed silent. For some reason, as he had explained his story to these girls, he could not bring himself to stop, and somehow against his better judgment he had talked, on and on.
And they had listened, the shock gradually wearing off.
But this silence...
He slumped where he sat, too weary to feel any emotion besides a dull anxiety and the burning pain across his chest. If nothing else, he would sit here, in this chair, to rest awhile and then...and rest some more.
All of the girls were watching Naomi, as if her response was the deciding factor - and Naomi's gaze snapped to his.
"Well, at least you're honest," she said, matter-of-factly. "And if you have even a shred of common sense, you'll know that laying a finger on any of us is likely to result in your doom. You're on the run. You're wounded. And you desperately need to hide."
With a rational calm, she nodded. "Besides, you're on the side of the revolutionaries. Even if you've killed, I do agree that what you're doing needs to be done. " A murmur of agreement surfaced at her words.
"We can't just sit around talking!" Cho said out of nowhere, waving her arms frantically. "I thought you said you'd treat his wounds! He's about to die and you all made him tell you a ten-minute-long story! What kind of people are you, anyway?"
"Cautious people, Cho," Naomi answered.
"So they helped you," Kaoru sighed, feeling relieved. "Oh, thank goodness. I was getting rather worried!"
"Within ten minutes, Naomi had cleaned and bandaged the worst of my wounds. She also managed to stop the flow of bleeding on my chest. Some of the girls helped her, although most of them started eating the dumplings." Seeing Kaoru's indignant look, Kenshin added, "Don't worry, they gave me some too."
"Naomi sounds like a very good medic," Kaoru said thoughtfully. "So she was working as a prostitute - um, an oiran - and training to be a doctor?"
Kenshin's expression darkened. "I believe it was so."
"I've always wanted to be a doctor," Naomi said, bitterness tinging her tone as she wrapped a bandage around the Battousai's upper arm. "You're the one of the first actual patients I've treated."
The Battousai considered her words, but said nothing.
"But I'm going to be a doctor," Naomi said proudly, all despair disappearing. "I'm going to finish studying, quit prostitution, and help support us all as best as I can!"
The Battousai waited, but it seemed that Naomi was done talking as she finished tying the bandage.
Suddenly, a soft object hit him over the head forcefully, knocking his breath out of him for a moment. "Hey!" Reika, the red-head, exclaimed from behind him, tossing a pillow from hand to hand. "At least say something! Don't just sit there!"
"Yeah! That's so rude!"
"He needed to say something like, 'Oh, that sounds great!' and not just listen!"
"Have you guys forgotten that this is a dangerous assassin who killed at least hundreds of experienced fighters?" Sayuri asked timidly.
Immediately, all the girls hushed, and the Battousai regarded them coolly. That's more like it, he thought self-assuredly, his confidence returning.
"If the police arrive, how are we going to hide him?" Naomi mused, ignoring the Battousai and Reika.
"We could stuff him into a closet somewhere," Reika suggested. "I'm sure they wouldn't find him."
The Battousai bristled at the thought of being trapped in a dark closet, but luckily Cho wasted no time in cutting that idea short. "No way!" She folded her arms. "We have to come up with something else."
"We don't have any secret trapdoors, if anyone's asking," Naomi added.
"Oh!" Cho said happily. "I know what we can do! When the police arrive, we can disguise him as a girl!"
The Battousai remained frozen at the mere mention of pretending to be a girl - for his pride had already been wounded enough - but Cho leaned over and yanked at his hair tie. "See?" She said proudly as his crimson hair, long and slightly wavy, settled lightly on his back. "I know we could pull it off!"
"I think we could do it..."
"With the right kimono..."
"And maybe even a ribbon for his hair..."
"Yeah!"
"I think we should do it!"
"Great idea!"
The Battousai looked from one girl to the next, hardly comprehending what had just happened.
"Oro?" The Battousai yelped as at least half of the girls pounced on him, wielding hair combs, ribbons, and other objects of death. The word escaped naturally from the Battousai's lips in his confused state, even though he had never uttered it before.
"You said it! Oro!" Kaoru clapped her hands, suddenly filled with joy. "You weren't completely cold-blooded. So you had a bit of Kenshin in you even then!"
"That was the first time I ever said 'oro,' actually," Kenshin smiled. "I had no idea that it would later become a habit. It's only natural when a group of girls pounces on you, intending to make you look like one of them. The experience was very alarming."
"Wait!" Cho's voice rang out, and she stood in front of him, arms outstretched as if to protect. "Before we make him look like a girl, he has to dress like a girl. Any of you have an extra kimono? Preferably something red, or pink?"
"Yes! Right here!" A petite girl dug into her bag and pulled out folds of cloth. Magenta, the Battousai realized with a dawning horror.
The Battousai groaned, shaking his head. "Firstly, did I ever consent to this? I believe that's a no. Secondly, I am a proper swordsman, not a cross-dresser. Thirdly, that kimono is an awful color that clashes with my hair."
"I advise you do as Cho has suggested," Naomi said calmly, although she couldn't hide the amusement plain on her face. "It seems that you are in a desperate situation, and desperate situations call for desperate measures."
"I will not," the Battousai said grimly, desperate to evade girlification. "I changed my mind. I'm going to fight the police if they arrive. I can take it. Thank you for your help, though."
"There's a high probability you'll collapse from exhaustion," Naomi said in a tight, scolding tone. "And you'll start coughing up blood again. Don't even think about it. You may be the best assassin that ever existed, but you've already worn yourself out and you're in no condition to battle the rest of the police force."
The Battousai grimaced, looking around wildly as if for means of escape. "Then I'll just leave."
"I don't think you'd get very far in that gi and hakama," Sayuri said in a small voice. "All that blood and dirt on what's left of your clothes will give you away in an instant."
The Battousai did not try to hide his disapproval, but with a displeased glare at them all, he grudgingly grabbed the pink kimono and stalked towards the nearest room in one of the hallways.
But there were so many different pieces of the kimono! Once he had safely gotten out of their sight, the Battousai held one cloth, then the other, in bewilderment. What was he supposed to do now with these random dozen pieces of cloth? All the girls made it seem so easy, and he'd thought he knew how to put on a kimono... how hard could it be? It simply involved wrapping this cloth here over his shoulder, and tying this around his waist, and...oh, great. Nevermind.
It was only after a good five minutes had passed that he realized the truth: he had absolutely no idea how to put on a kimono.
The girls burst into a flurry of giggles as they heard a stream of furious curses and the cry,
"HOW DO YOU PUT ON THIS DAMN THING?"
"They made you wear a kimono!" Kaoru said, struggling to hide her laughter. "Oh, Kenshin!"
"I don't think I would have survived otherwise," Kenshin said, a warm feeling spreading through him with the knowledge that he had made Kaoru laugh. "But I do remember that one of the girls said something specific when I walked out wearing that kimono. What was it..."
"I think I just lost all of my self confidence as a girl," one of them whispered, but the Battousai couldn't be sure if she was being facetious or not.
"He'd fool anyone," Cho murmured, and for a moment the group simply stared.
"EXCUSE ME!" The Battousai growled, clutching at his outfit which was already threatening to fall to the floor at his feet. He felt humiliated, and, on a rare occasion, his face burned red. Master swordsman or no, he was never going to live this down. "A bit of help here!"
"It seems you couldn't find the proper place to tie the obijime," Naomi observed, a trace of mockery in her tone. "That goes around your waist. Not on your shoulders, in the least. Would you like some help?"
"Poor thing!" Cho added, stepping forward to offer guidance and ignoring the Battousai's murderous look. "We shouldn't have expected him to know. Don't worry, I'll help you!" She pursued her lips. "At least you weren't too far off!" With some quick adjustments, Cho straightened and retied the necessary accessories, studying him with a critical eye as she proceeded.
"There," she stood back, folding her arms. "Naomi, what do you think?"
"Charming," Naomi said, with a ghost of a smile. "It seems that the kimono has managed to cover all of the bloodied bandages."
Just as well, the Battousai said to himself. There's no way I can fight in this stupid outfit. The first chance I get, I'm out of here and back to being a deadly manslayer.
Naomi's demeanor suddenly became businesslike. "What about your sword?"
"I hid it," the Battousai answered, grateful for some normal conversation that distracted him from the precarious status of his masculinity. He had cleaned his sword as best as he could, then hidden it in a closet and shoved his bloodied clothes under a loose floorboard. Wait, what would happen if they found the-
Just then, the door resounded with a rapid series of knocks. Naomi, sensing danger, quickly stuffed her materials in the case and rose with the medical supplies to hide them.
"Open up!" A gruff voice called from outside. "Open up right now!"