Awkwardly, Kaoru shifted beside Kenshin. She absolutely refused to acknowledge the redhead’s appearance because of last night, and what had nearly transpired between them. Death had come knocking on her door, and for the moment she had believed her time had come. Until, he released her. Perhaps, if she had fought him through the entire ordeal, he would have ended her life.
Kaoru nervously clasped her hands behind her back as she stared at the tall, colorful building looming over her.
She had awoken earlier to Kenshin knocking on her bedroom door and when she had joined him in the kitchen, she had been told of their abrupt meeting with an acquaintance. She was told nothing else, and that was beginning to irritate her. She was awaiting the arrival of a person she knew nothing about for a purpose she didn’t quite understand. Who was this acquaintance, and why should Himura suddenly care about the clothes she owned—or rather didn’t own?
“So,” Kaoru observed Kenshin from out of the corners of her eyes, a frown upon her lips. “Are you going to tell me why we’re standing in front of a boutique?”
The boutique in question proudly stood erect, its bold, multicolored brick walls considered the eye-catcher of the group. Kaoru’s indigo eyes squinting into the incandescent sunlight reflecting off the boutique’s spiffy windows, she read the sign aloud, “Oni Waban Boutique: Huge Summer Sale, Sunday through Friday. Ah, you cheapskate,” she muttered dryly.
Silence greeted her despite the heavy, morning traffic moving through the city. Pursing her lips, Kaoru directed a look of aggravation in Kenshin’s direction. On some occasions, she welcomed his uncanny ability to remain silent in nearly every situation; but on times like this, when she expected an answer, his silence annoyed her.
Then—“I am in no mood for your childish behavior.” His soft, composed voice startled her into backing up against the building, her eyes widening with consternation. After only a moment of unnerving silence, inwardly willing her heart to slow its pace, Kaoru huffed, “Childish behavior my ass. Who the hell are we waiting for?”
He simply ignored her.
Kaoru narrowed her eyes, disregarding for the time being the events that had transpired last night. When she examined the unusually calm exterior Kenshin donned, Kaoru faltered in speech. The sunlight from above obtruded from the various clouds swirling about the sky, illuminating the golden streaks within the burgundy of his hair.
Intense, golden orbs fastened on Kaoru, a single burgundy brow arching in curiosity. The woman had become oddly quiet, and he took into account what her wide, piercing blue gaze focused on. Apparently, she found something interesting about his face for she had yet to turn away.
“What?”
Kaoru blinked several times in confusion.
“What do you find so fascinating about me today?” He rephrased the question.
Scarlet graced Kenshin’s curiosity. Kaoru quickly averted her gaze from the man, her cheeks set aflame by his inquisitiveness. Indeed, what did she find so fascinating about Himura? If truth be told, she wasn’t even aware she was staring until something was said.
“Himura!”
Kaoru’s gaze pivoted onto the petite woman winding her way through the crowd while Kenshin merely shook his head, knowing beforehand who that annoyingly chipper voice belonged to. Her long, dark braid swishing from side to side, the small woman offered Kenshin a smile so bright it could be mistaken for the powerful beams of the sun as she stopped beside him.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Got held up in traffic. Well, I’m here now. Is this her?” Content, hazel eyes focused on Kaoru as the bubbling mass of smiles extended a slender hand towards the eighteen year old, offering Kaoru a friendly greeting. “Hello, Kaoru, I will be helping you with your shopping today.” Quietly, Kaoru shook the other woman’s hand while an uncomfortable smile grazed her lips. She didn’t know if she could trust this woman; after all, she was well acquainted with Himura it seemed. “Uh, shopping, right,” Kaoru mumbled uneasily as she folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but who are you?”
“Oh, yes!” The other woman giggled, her hazel eyes bright with laughter. “I forgot to introduce myself. Just call me Mao. Everyone else does. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Pausing for dramatic effect, Mao leaned forward and whispered, “My real name is Makimachi Misao, but no one around here calls me Misao ‘cept my boss. Only he can call me Misao, though.”
Kaoru couldn’t help but smile. There was definitely something unique about Misao.
Her eyes twinkling with amusement, Misao turned to look at Kenshin, who had been watching their meeting through guarded eyes. “So, shall I take her off your hands then?”
“Wait. Himura’s not coming with us?”
“Nope,” Misao shook her head.
Kenshin’s golden hues flashed a warning as he wrapped his calloused fingers around Misao’s right arm, pulling her towards him. “Remember Makimachi, you have exactly two hours to find her everything she needs. Take my card.” Wordlessly, he searched through his large, inside coat pocket for his MasterCard he used only for emergencies, and when he found it, Kenshin thrust it into Misao’s outstretched hand. “Two hours, Makimachi.”
Then, he was gone.
“He’s an odd one alright.” Misao sighed, her smile fading into a frown, but when Kaoru would have questioned the meaning behind her words, Misao wrapped an arm around the slightly taller woman’s shoulders. “So, how about those clothes, eh? This will be fun!” Before Kaoru could utter a protest, Misao pulled her through the neon green, double doors and guided her along the pathway, weaving in and out of clothing racks with little difficulty. As for Kaoru; she was having trouble keeping up with the friendly, bouncing woman.
As Kaoru passed one of the many clothing racks decorating the floor of the boutique, the unmistakable glittering of a light gold blouse caught her eye. She halted right beside the rack, her interested, indigo gaze only trained on the beautiful, shimmering gold of the blouse. The unusual color reminded her of Kenshin’s eyes when the man wasn’t glaring at every person he happened upon.
It was a unique color; it was a beautiful color. Kenshin’s eyes were beautiful—
“Kaoru, where’d you go?”
Flabbergasted, Kaoru whirled on her heels. She couldn’t believe where her thoughts had taken her. There wasn’t anything unique or beautiful about Kenshin! Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, she agitatedly raked a hand through her ebony tendrils.
“Kaoru? Oh, there you are!”
Forcing a smile upon her lips, Kaoru turned to face a breathless Misao. The petite woman stood on the other side of the aisle, grinning across the path at her with a teasing gleam emerging from within the depths of her smiling, hazel eyes. Then, her sparkling hazel eyes fastened on the gold blouse Kaoru had been looking over. “Oh, that’s pretty. C’mon, girl! I’ve found a few outfits that might suit the mood of a club! Follow me,” motioning towards the junior section of the boutique, where the jean skirts hung on the wall, Misao led Kaoru towards the single, woman’s dressing room. According to Misao, dressing rooms were scattered all over the boutique, much to Kaoru’s surprise.
As soon as Kaoru reached one of the various wooden benches taking up residence near the dressing rooms, Misao grabbed the woman by the arm and shoved her onto the bench, ignoring Kaoru’s protests as she hurried towards the clothing rack closest to her, where she had hung the assorted articles of clothing she thought might look nice on the slightly taller woman.
“Here. Try these on.”
Eyes wide, Kaoru clutched the skirts and blouses thrown her way tightly as she moved to obey Misao’s order.
Misao certainly did have wild taste; Kaoru liked the clothes given to her. Slipping out of her shorts, she reached for the first tight, jean skirt she hung on the door. “Hey, Misao?” Silence. “Misao?” More silence. Sighing in irritation, Kaoru buttoned the dark blue skirt while she faced the mirror hanging on the wall opposite her. She never wore such tight-fitting clothes, hardly ever wore skirts, yet, she found this particular skirt to be gorgeous. Smiling in appreciation, she twirled slowly around, hoping to glimpse the skirt from every angle, in which she did. She really liked it.
“Kaoru, did you call me?”
“Hm? Oh, yes,” distracted, Kaoru smoothly brushed her fingers along the shortened length of the skirt, a frown marring her widely eager eyes. “How do you know Himura? Do you work for his boss or something?”
“Or something,” was Misao’s amused reply. Silence followed. Then—“Actually, my boss works for Himura’s boss so the men are on the same level. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious, I guess.” Shrugging indifferently, Kaoru reached for the nearest blouse, appreciating its dark shade of emerald, before she tugged her current, white baggy, t-shirt over her head in order to try on the blouse. After only a moment of contented silence, Kaoru inquired as to the position Misao held to be an employee of a man, or woman, who worked along side Himura. Misao didn’t strike her as the type of person to harm another, but other than a hired murderer, what could she possibly be doing with such a group of cruel men?
She was so quiet in giving an answer that Kaoru feared she had nothing to give her when Misao said, “Suppose you could call me a secretary of sorts. I aid my boss in making sure the employers are not found out by the public. Lately, everyone seems to know something about these assassinations, so I only assume that I have not been doing a good job at it. Anyway, do you plan to come out of there anytime soon? How am I to know what outfit best suits you if you don’t show me?”
“Oh, right,” Kaoru muttered as she pushed her way out of the dressing room, her piercing blue eyes seeking to find Misao.
The woman was standing beside a rather handsome man with dark sienna hair that hung loosely in his cerulean eyes. Before she had a chance to duck shyly behind the nearest clothing rack, Misao spotted her.
“Oh, Kaoru, that looks great on you!”
Unfortunately, Misao’s friend was of the same opinion for he voiced his appreciation unbeknownst to her diffidence. Misao understood the coyness in which Kaoru practically hid behind the safe haven of the packed rack.
“Don’t be shy, Kaoru. That outfit compliments your figure well; not to mention the color…” Her voice trailed off when Kaoru’s uncertain, indigo eyes flickered towards the man who stood beside her. “Oh, right, I forgot to introduce you to one of Himura’s work buddies. This is Kyoshi. Tekamai Kyoshi. Everyone around here just calls him Kyo, or the Angel of Death, whichever you prefer. Kyo, this is Kamiya Kaoru, Himura’s baby.”
Himura’s baby, Kaoru mused, how can I be considered Himura’s baby? Her cheeks blazing with embarrassment, Kaoru pursed her lips as she narrowed her eyes at Misao. “I am not Himura’s baby,” she hissed through clenched teeth, unaware of the fact that she had moved away from the rack and was now in plain sight of Misao and Kyoshi.
“Of course not,” Misao rolled her eyes playfully as a smirk touched her pouting lips, looking to Kyoshi who was unexpectedly scrutinizing Kaoru through the dark veil of his unruly bangs. “Well, Miss Kay, get back in that dressing room and try some more clothes on! We have exactly an hour and twelve minutes left. Let’s not waste anymore time!” Waving Kaoru off, Misao turned her back on her while she grabbed Kyoshi by the arm in an attempt to turn him around as well.
It didn’t quite work that way. Instead of being forcibly turned around by the smaller woman, Kyoshi turned the tables on her and enfolded her in a strong embrace. “Are you by chance hinting in the direction of my departure? Does my having the nerve to look the woman over irritate you?” Grinning, Kyoshi’s arms tightened around Misao’s trim waist.
“No, not at all.” Glaring heatedly over her shoulder, Misao frowned. Not that she minded Kyoshi’s odd sense of humor…she just wasn’t so sure the man should look at Kaoru in such a manner. After all, Kaoru was in Himura’s care, and Misao knew exactly what Himura would do should Kyoshi threaten Kaoru’s safety. The woman was in his care; therefore, he was the only one allowed to do anything with or to her.
Kaoru, cheeks set aflame by Kyoshi’s open scrutiny, hurriedly obeyed another one of Misao’s orders and entered the dressing room, securing the curtains in place before she even undressed.
More clothes to try on…for an hour and twelve minutes…oh joy…
Tuesday Evening
September 15th, 2005
“Now.”
A one-worded command; issued by a highly annoyed, furious assassin standing outside the bathroom door, impatiently clenching and unclenching his fingers. Kenshin was not accustomed to waiting on anyone before he left for an important meeting, but ever since Kamiya threw herself unexpectedly into his care, he found himself doing and saying things he normally would not.
The stubborn woman refused to quicken her pace in preparing for the meeting. He had ordered her to the bathroom hours ago, yet, she still wasn’t ready. Why women needed so much time to dress, he didn’t know. Nor did he want to.
A silent, awfully long moment passed, then two, and still there was no sign of Kamiya. She hadn’t even bothered to explain her delay through the bathroom door. He was impatient to get to the meeting. Hell, he wasn’t about to allow one measly, selfish woman to slow him down. If she wasn’t ready in five seconds top, he would drag her out of that bathroom no matter how hard she tried to protest.
Five.
The woman still made no sound to alert him of the reason for her delay.
Four.
She was seriously trying his patience.
Three.
Kenshin narrowed his dangerously expanding pupils upon the door, debating on whether or not he should break into the bathroom and drag her out or if he should just let it be. The dark emptiness of a man’s cold heart filled his eyes as he folded his arms across his broad chest; the gold completely vanished from his gaze.
Two.
His decision was about to be made for him. The woman’s stubbornness was highly aggravating.
One.
Inaudibly, Kenshin wrapped his fingers tightly around the doorknob and without a thought tried the lock. The door was bolted against him. Kenshin tried the lock once more just to make sure that the woman had, indeed, locked him out. Foolish, selfish chit. Grinding his teeth forcefully together, Kenshin stepped away from the door long enough to grunt his dissatisfaction before he pummeled a booted foot into the oak wood, impatient to get his hands on Kaoru. She was not about to get away with locking him out of his own bathroom.
The door did not give away as Kenshin expected it to. Sighing irritably, he brought another booted foot to the door, watching with satisfaction as the door gave away under the exerted pressure of his black boot, inwardly crashing to the floor. Without another sound, Kenshin entered the bathroom, ignoring the fallen door as first one boot then the other came to stand upon the creaking wood.
He was speechless.
His eyes must be deceiving him, there was no other explanation.
The bathroom was empty.
A frown of annoyance grazed his lips as his darkened, irritated eyes swept the entire bathroom, searching for the unmistakable ebony of his little assignment’s hair. She was gone, much to his surprise. His shoulders fairly trembling with the inward rage threatening to boil to the surface, he trained his furious gaze upon the window, noticing that it had been opened to allow the cool, September breeze into the room.
The window was open…The fucking window was open! As though the thought of escape suddenly dawned on him, Kenshin rushed towards the window, his hands trembling from the murderous rage streaming through his veins.
If she had gotten out…
…He was going to kill her.
Clasping the window’s frame tightly, Kenshin leaned over the edge, his livid gaze scouting the invisible signs of an escape. If he wasn’t so certain Kaoru had fled, he would have known right away that the possibility of escape was low. His knuckles considerably whitened under the strain of gripping the window’s frame furiously as Kenshin retreated from the window, plotting slow, murderous ways of dealing with the woman as soon as he found her.
Skinning alive sounded fairly intriguing. A whack over the head and a fist in the face sounded just as appealing.
A knife in the back.
Carving his name into her shoulder, marking her as his possession.
He liked the sound of that; carving his name into her flesh. At least she would know not to anger him in the future by trying these ridiculous antics in an attempt to escape.
“Himura, what’s wrong with you? I thought you wanted to be on time.”
So, she hadn’t escaped after all. Still, he wouldn’t mind showing her what would happen should she try to flee his grasp. Glimpsing the single arch of an ebony brow, Kenshin’s lips tightened unforgivably. She was his captive, yet, she faced him with a valor he despised. “Were you not in the bathroom?” Kenshin murmured softly, lowering his head so that his irritably flashing, golden hues could not be seen through the long, thick strands of his burgundy hair.
“Was I supposed to be?” Kaoru retorted, narrowing her indigo eyes on the unnerving assassin. There was something about the way he studied her, giving her the chills. Then, her gaze shifted to the door lying on the floor under Kenshin’s boots. “Hey, what happened here? Oh. Let me guess,” she mumbled as it suddenly dawned on her that Kenshin had undoubtedly been looking for her. “Thought I was escaping, did you? Are you truly that stupid? How in the hell am I supposed to escape this godforsaken cabin when there’s no one to help me, hm?”
She knew she was treading on thin ice, but she was furious with Kenshin for forcing her to attend this meeting, and even more so for having to wear this dress.
Peering down at the cobalt-blue, tight-fitting dress she wore, the dark collar low enough for a man to glimpse a view of the beginning swells of tightly bound breast, Kaoru scowled. Of all dresses to choose from, Misao just had to pick this one. She hated it. She wanted to toss it into the nearest trash bin. She felt completely exposed to the naked eye.
Kenshin pursed his lips.
Her attitude was seriously grating on his nerves. Not to mention the derision he noticed flicker within the depths of her eyes when she glimpsed the dress Makimachi had chosen for her to wear to the meeting. He was going to brutally murder that girl. So what if her boss came after him for hurting his beloved secretary? She was asking for a beating, and a severe one at that.
There was no hiding the lovely curves and limbs forming the body God had purposely granted Kamiya. If anything, the dress emphasized the womanly curves she did nothing to accentuate.
Fuck.
This was definitely going to be one hell of a long meeting. There shouldn’t be anything remotely interesting about the woman, yet, she was undeniably appealing to his eye.
Kenshin furiously clenched his teeth, closing his mind to the prospect of learning the secrets the nearly-too-tight dress tantalizingly hid.
What the fuck was the matter with him?
He had never looked at Kaoru in such a way before.
And if he had, it had been a damnable mistake.
“What are you looking at?” Kaoru snapped irritably when her indigo eyes rose in time to notice where Kenshin’s attention had drawn to. As much as she was loathsome to admit, his attentive gaze pinned on the dress she wore was doing wonders to her heart. She didn’t like being the object of his fascination; she wasn’t accustomed to being looked at in such a way, unless one counted Jurou.
Kenshin blinked his confusion as his spine stiffened and his broad shoulders tensed with prudence.
“It is time to go.” Kenshin calmly strode past her and into the living room, unaware of the pair of dubious eyes watching his every move. He was not in a mood to explain himself to the woman, and most likely never would be.
“Hey, Himura!” Kaoru called after Kenshin’s retreating back. “What about the door to the bathroom?”
No answer.
“Himura?”
Still, no answer.
Frustrated, Kaoru sighed. She didn’t understand a thing he did, nor would she ever understand. Himura followed no law but his own. He performed horrible things only a man with no heart could perform. There couldn’t be a heart under all that cold emptiness hidden within Himura’s body. He was far too immune to the feeling of remorse.
Why else would he continue to commit such horrible acts of violence after seven, long years? He was used to it by now.
Why had he not killed her yet? Not only was allowing her to live completely out of his character, but she didn’t understand why he chose to watch over her, especially when on more than a few occasions he had made it known that he would rather have nothing to do with her.
“Move your ass, Kamiya,” the calm, irately controlled voice interrupted Kaoru’s ponderings as her wide eyes swiveled towards Kenshin, a bright scarlet tingeing her cheeks in humiliation. The man refused to look at her, much to her unwanted surprise; yet, she didn’t know the reason why. Was she that unattractive in a dress? Why such knowledge would upset her, she never knew.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Kaoru muttered under her breath as she followed Kenshin through the doorway and onto the front porch, the faintly visible rays of a nearly complete, settled sun obtruding through the various, thick trees surrounding the cabin. “How long will this meeting be exactly?” Her tone bitter, Kaoru tilted her head to the side, awaiting the awful news.
“Do you have the key?” He deliberately avoided her question.
Kaoru narrowed her eyes. “Yes. So…?” Her pointed, stubborn gaze, she noticed, was putting Himura in a sour mood.
“So?”
“Answer my damn question! How long will this meeting be?”
Kenshin was silent for a moment, his golden hues trained on her indigo orbs, and Kaoru feared he would never answer her, until he averted his intense gaze to the wooden floor of the porch, frustrated with her obstinate nature.
“Two hours, three at the most; maybe even longer.”
Damn mulish woman.
He would definitely talk to Takeda at the meeting about placing the eighteen year old woman in his care. That man had no right to meddle in his affairs like this, to force some childish brat upon him when the entire country knew damn well he would most likely end up killing her.
Takeda…that bastard.