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Broken Pieces: Chapter 8 - in a name

by linay

The solitude of our sufferings

Is the only friend we will ever know

Kaoru sat alone on the sofa and watched the flames die, Kenshin’s black cloak still loosely covering her. She could hear the harsh sound of running water from the bathroom. Kenshin had been showering for the past forty minutes. She could almost feel the damp steam emanating from the cracks in the bathroom door.

She stared down at the bloody crust on her fingertips. The dried brownish crust burned at her skin. She could feel it everywhere - smeared on her cheek, caked to her knees, crusted under her fingernails. She itched to scratch and rub it all away.

The feeling disgusted her and she felt like it would drive her insane.

Kaoru was still sitting upright, her legs curled underneath her and her hands folded neatly in her lap when Kenshin emerged from the washroom, clad in his, now familiar, navy bathrobe. He looked down at her as he stepped up to his leather armchair, squeezing excess water from his long red tresses.

He eased himself slowly into his chair, regarding her stone-like countenance with sharp golden eyes. Silence hung heavily around them like the warm dampness that was spreading from the steamy bathroom.

“I feel so dirty,” Kaoru whispered, staring down at her hands.

“So wash yourself,” Kenshin instructed, his voice low.

“Will that take the dirt away?”

“Water will help,” Kenshin answered.

“I don’t feel like moving,” Kaoru mused aloud, “My body disgusts me.”

“The bathroom is over there,” Kenshin hinted, not bothering to point since she wasn’t looking up anyway.

“I smell disgusting,” Kaoru commented again, as if she hadn’t heard him speak.

“Then take a shower,” Kenshin spoke as if to an errant child, “It will make you feel better.”

Kaoru looked up slowly. “Is that why you shower every time?”

“Of course,” Kenshin replied, his golden gaze unflinching, “So go take one - quickly.”

“Why don’t you wash your cloak and the sword hilts?” Kaoru questioned.

Kenshin stared at her. “There is no need to wash them.”

“But you wash your body to cleanse it,” she pointed out, “And those things reek too. So why don’t you wash them?”

“You don’t really need to know that,” he remarked coolly, “All you need to do now is clean yourself up.”

“Can’t you just give me a straight answer?” Kaoru snapped, her eyes narrowing, “It can’t hurt for you to tell me now, can it?”

Kenshin pressed his lips together, fighting down the primal urge to snap back. Instead he steeled his vocal cords and answered.

“I clean my body because it can be cleaned,” he said, his voice tight with control, “But my cloak and my swords are instruments of death - no matter what I do, they will always be dirty.”

He glared at Kaoru through golden slits. She stared back, weighing his words. Unlike the tools of his trade, he still felt that he could be cleansed. His nightly hot shower, then, was really a cleansing ritual - to rid himself of the stain of blood.

Perhaps he wasn’t just a mindless tool.

Unexpectedly, Kenshin saw an odd smile tug at the corners of her lips.

“I see,” Kaoru said quietly, rising slowly from her seat and letting his cloak fall away from her bare shoulders.

“See what?” Kenshin retorted, turning his eyes away from her lithe body.

“Your humanity,” she answered softly, the slight smile still lingering on her pale face.

Thankfully for Kenshin, she had turned and headed for the bathroom before she could have seen the widening of his eyes. He inclined his head towards her retreating figure, his amber eyes watching her through thick, wet bangs.

Odd girl. Very, very odd girl.

“The next stage in the plan, Shinsaku,” Katsura announced quietly into his cell phone, as he drove through Kyoto’s streets.

“So soon?” Takasugi asked into his cordless phone as he lounged in his apartment.

“It must be tomorrow,” Katsura replied, “Have them come to the Sakura Tea House.”

“In the Pontoncho district?” Takasugi questioned incredulously, “But that’s our seediest meeting place.”

“I know, Shinsaku.”

“It’s a damn whore house,” Takasugi continued, “She’s a seventeen year old girl. The men will go wild.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Takasugi exclaimed, “You are taking some weird measures, Kogoro. It seems like you’re setting it up so she goes insane or gets raped. I thought she was an asset, for crying out loud!”

“She is a valuable asset,” Katsura clarified calmly, “And these are the measures that must be taken for her to be of use. Trust me.”

“Trust me,” Takasugi muttered, “Trust me, the man says. Kogoro, do you have any idea of what might happen to her if she shows up at the Sakura Tea House?”

“Was I wrong before?”

“No,” Takasugi admitted, “But Battousai is one man. There will be dozens of men at the Sakura.”

“As I said,” Katsura repeated into his cell phone patiently, “Trust me Shinsaku.”

“Fine,” Takasugi gave in grudgingly, “But why should we meet anyway?”

“I need to speak with her.”

“Don’t know if she’ll want to speak to you,” Takasugi commented dryly.

“I think she will.”

“Does this, by any chance, have anything to do with the fucked up assignment you gave Himura tonight?”

“It does indeed,” Katsura affirmed.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“That was one fucked up assignment, Kogoro.”

“It was necessary,” Katsura answered with a sigh.

“Well, I want to know why.”

“Tomorrow.”

“And I know of one red headed employee who’s going to want to know why too. I bet he’s still showering because of your insane instructions.”

Another quiet sigh. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll talk. Make sure one tatami room is ready for our meeting. A quiet room, Shinsaku,” Katsura specified.

“A quiet room in the Sakura?”

“Just arrange it.”

Kenshin’s apartment was damp with steam. Kaoru had taken twice as long a shower as Kenshin and it was a miracle the paint wasn’t peeling because of the clouds of humidity that were drifting from the bathroom. Kaoru emerged into the living room, wrapped in the terry cloth bathrobe Kenshin had given her two days before. She shook out her long, damp hair.

“Feel better?” Kenshin asked, his eyes remaining closed and his head bowed.

Kaoru arched an eyebrow at the killer. He was sitting in the leather armchair, arms out, his thick, red hair falling over his lean shoulders. His lips, as always, were tight and his eyes were lightly closed.

“Yes,” Kaoru answered carefully, “Thank you.”

She watched as his expression stayed exactly the same. Tilting her head thoughtfully, she wondered how he managed to control his facial features so rigidly.

Perhaps, it was the sense of relaxation that usually accompanies a hot shower. Or maybe it was the humidity in the air. It might have been fatigue coupled with the late hour. But right at the moment, Kaoru decided to take a step forward.

“Since we’re speaking so,” she paused thoughtfully, “So civilly - can I ask you a question?”

Her blue eyes scanned his hardened features. Not a muscle twitched. She took this as his consent.

“Well,” she continued conversationally, idly twirling a strand of midnight hair around one finger, “Why don’t sleep on the bed?”

Kenshin’s head snapped up suddenly, surprise jolting him from his emotionless state. His amber eyes regarded her unbelievingly. Was she implying…? The twit. What on earth was the little girl implying?

Kaoru, who was staring up as she played with strands of her hair, didn’t notice his disbelieving look.

“I mean,” she continued lightly, “I’ve slept on your bed for half a week now. But don’t you miss it?”

He continued to gape at the teenager, open mouthed. She looked down at him, expecting to see unresponsive stoniness. Her blue eyes registered surprise as she caught his expression.

“Well, you see,” she babbled suddenly, a flush rising to her cheeks as she guessed the implication her words might have carried, “I just wondered why you always sleep out here. Don’t you want to use your bed again? I mean,” she stuttered, “I was just thinking that you’d like to use your bed again. It’s comfortable and well…Wouldn’t you like to sleep in a bed again?” She paused in her tirade and then added, “Alone of course.” Then she laughed - or pretended to anyway.

Kenshin closed his mouth as he grasped the meaning of her question fully. “Oh is that it?” he asked, icicles reforming around his words.

“Well, yeah.”

“Just go to bed,” he said coldly, bowing his head and closing his eyes again.

“Just one question,” Kaoru stated. Then she continued before he could protest, “Why don’t you sleep in your bed?”

But Kenshin’s face had already gone blank, his eyes closed as if in sleep. Kaoru sighed. She knew that he was awake. She also knew that it was now quite pointless to keep trying to get a response out of him.

“Fine,” she gave in as she turned toward the bedroom. “Good night, Mr. Kidnapper.”

Kenshin opened one eye slightly to watch her go into the dark bedroom. He watched the door close with a loud bang.

Himura Kenshin sighed. She had finally left him alone. The freakish teenager with the weird ability would not let him be. She was constantly intruding on his quiet time. She was constantly shocking him.

She was such an odd girl.

It was irritating. It was annoying. It was infuriating. It was maddening.

It was also intriguing.

Five daggers hit five different bulls-eyes in a flash of steel.

Aoshi stood at the other end of a training hall, his arm frozen in the fling position. He straightened slowly, appraising each dagger’s mark.

“Sir,” he stated tranquilly, eyes unmoving, “What do you have to tell me?”

From the shadows of the doorway, a hulk of a man emerged with a deep chuckle.

“Sharp as your aim, aren’t you,” he laughed, “Stupid ninja.”

“I’m ready to go after Kamiya Kaoru,” Aoshi said quietly as he collected his daggers one by one.

“Not in the plan.”

Aoshi turned to stare at his boss, his icy eyes slitted. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, idiot boy,” his boss snorted, “That you will not be going after her now.”

“Why not?”

The broader man arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to ask questions like that.”

Aoshi turned away, tucking his daggers into their hiding places. “It’s just odd,” he commented, “It took a lot of work to acquire that girl. Not to mention lives.”

“So?”

“Good people died so that she could be brought to you,” Aoshi replied quietly through clenched teeth, “Not to mention that Megumi and I spent a month working undercover for that scum bag, Kanryu.”

“And what a fine piece of work that was,” the big man chuckled loudly, “Kanryu’s business partners all wanted to tear him apart for the phoney cocaine that Megumi cooked up. And you, Mr. Head Bodyguard, made it so damn easy to snatch the little girl.”

“So,” Aoshi continued, “Why can’t I go get her?”

“You sound as if you care about the little racoon girl.”

Aoshi shrugged. “Neither Megumi nor I expected her to be as she was.”

“And that means…”

“Kanryu was a brutal bastard to her. We hurt her too, even if unwittingly - and we’re supposed to be the good guys.” Aoshi closed his eyes. “She’s just a teenager. Who knows what’s being done to her now?”

“Again,” his boss repeated, “Why does it sound like you care about the racoon chick?”

Aoshi strode back quickly to other side of the room. In a split second, a dagger embedded itself into the bulls-eye of a target.

“She should be here,” Aoshi stated, calmly preparing to fling another dagger at the target.

Kaoru rolled over under the thick down covers. She peered at a digital clock through bleary eyes.

7:15 AM.

Perfect. She smiled to herself in her half-awakened state. Kaoru rolled out of bed and stretched, cracking her joints.

It was early in the day. The birds were singing. The apartment was quiet and there was a kitchen waiting for her! She couldn’t wait to rummage through the cupboards and fridge. It would be breakfast by Kaoru, today!

Humming softly, she opened the bedroom door quietly and slipped out. She glanced over to the living room.

No red hair.

She grinned. To her, it meant that she’d have the whole place to herself. The kidnapper had already left for some mysterious meeting of some sort.

She sauntered over to the bar and hopped up onto it, flipping her legs over the counter.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kaoru froze. That voice. She looked up slowly, her legs dangling into the kitchen from the counter top. The red haired assassin was already dressed in a tight black t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his shocking red hair up in a ponytail. And he was staring at her - holding up a soup ladle.

“Um,” Kaoru began sheepishly as she slid off the counter and landed on her feet, “Just trying to cook up some breakfast.”

“Well you’re too late for that,” Kenshin replied coldly, turning back to stir the miso soup with the ladle.

“Then,” Kaoru said cheerfully, “I guess I could help set the table instead.”

Kenshin clenched his teeth as he heard the girl go round his kitchen, pulling open drawers and cupboards loudly.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked amiably as she ran around the counter with a set of plates.

She set the plates on the dinette table neatly and rushed back to the kitchen to find glasses. She pulled open an overhead cupboard and peered into its shelves, standing on her tiptoes.

“Where are your glasses?” she called.

She slammed a cupboard door closed, turning slightly towards the stove. Kenshin’s face loomed at her menacingly where the cupboard had been. Kaoru jumped in fright. She stepped back, one hand over her heart.

“Don’t DO that!” she cried, catching her breath, “You could scare the wits out of someone!”

Kenshin, standing only a few feet from her, narrowed his amber eyes. “Why are you being so nice?”

Kaoru shrugged and turned to another cupboard, renewing her search. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Kenshin pursed his lips at the girl’s back. “Because it’s strange.”

“Maybe to you,” Kaoru said, pushing plates around on a high shelf, “But it’s almost normal for me to be kidnapped and imprisoned and beaten and what not. And frankly,” she said bluntly, “These living arrangements aren’t as bad as some of the places I’ve been before. Except now I’m living with a cold blooded killer instead of some short tempered, drug dealing monster.”

“And so you’re being nice because?”

“Because it’s too much effort to be a bitch all the time,” Kaoru completed the sentence for him as she opened another cupboard.

“Such a logical train of thought,” Kenshin snorted, going to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchenette.

He opened the door quietly and pulled out two tall glasses. He walked past the tiptoeing girl and set the glasses on the table. Kaoru turned to look and she half-smiled, slamming the cupboard with a flourish.

“See,” she gloated, “That was SO much easier.”

“Listen girl, don’t be so happy about it.”

“Listen Battousai-”

“Don’t call me that,” Kenshin bit out sharply.

“Well then don’t call me ‘girl’!”

“What the hell do you want me to call you then!”

“My name would be nice!”

“Fine,” Kenshin acquiesced, “Kamiya - don’t call me that.”

“So,” Kaoru asked, her tone suddenly friendly again, “What should I call you?”

“I don’t care,” Kenshin muttered, exasperated.

“But I don’t know your name.”

“Himura.”

“Alright,” Kaoru smiled “Himura-san.”

“Don’t bother with the ‘-san’”.

After a longer than necessary time filled with careful sidestepping and avoidance, the table was finally set. Neither had felt the need to speak. Kaoru had hummed quietly to herself and Kenshin had simply retained his stony silence. It appeared to be a normal, everyday interaction - although both felt the strangeness of the normalcy.

Eyeing each other almost warily, they both sat at the same time. They both took up their chopsticks at the same time.

“It’s good!” Kaoru piped suddenly, with a wide smile.

Kenshin looked up at her from above the rim of his bowl of soup.

“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked, curious.

He ignored her.

“Ah,” she smiled genuinely, “I guess it’s top secret!”

“Stop your games,” he ordered icily, raising his chopsticks to his mouth.

Kaoru’s smile faded slowly. “Why can’t you be normal for more than two minutes?” she asked, hurt and anger mingling in her voice.

“You’re forgetting where you are,” Kenshin told her in a soft, cold voice, “You’re not my guest or my friend. You’re just some project that my boss has in mind.”

The tips of Kaoru’s lips quivered slightly and she looked down. “Yes,” she agreed, abashed, “You’re right. I’m just a project. An experiment.”

Without another word, Kaoru began to eat quietly. Kenshin did not look up again but he could hear her trying to chew as silently as possible.

But the silence didn’t last.

“Don’t you ever want to be normal?” Kaoru asked hopefully.

“No,” came the curt reply.

“Why not?”

Silence.

“Oh yeah,” Kaoru recited bitterly, “Because sacrifices must be made for a better Kyoto - or so you say.”

Angry silence.

“It must be hard,” Kaoru began to muse out loud.

“What are you talking about?” Kenshin asked, anger creeping steadily into his voice.

“Well,” Kaoru explained good-naturedly, “You have this goal - this idea of a better Kyoto - but you get stuck with all the dirty work.”

Kenshin’s face tightened and his arm froze just as he was bringing it up to take a bite. His knuckles whitened, the chopsticks wavering in his death grip.

Kaoru stood and held up Kenshin’s glass. She began to pour him juice slowly.

“I mean,” she said thoughtfully, watching with fascination as the orange liquid sloshed into the glass, “You must have had such a hard time growing up. I imagine it must have broken your heart at first - to kill all those people. But then you had to harden yourself. I guess so anyway.” She set the pitcher down and held Kenshin’s glass out, still entrenched in thought. “I wish you hadn’t had to live through that. I feel sorry for you - life must have been cruel.”

“Don’t you dare…” Kenshin’s voice was a low hiss.

Kaoru looked down in surprise, still holding the glass. She inhaled sharply. Kenshin’s face had paled and his pupils were almost quivering in his wide, furious eyes. A nasty snarl was twisting his lips.

“Don’t you dare,” Kenshin repeated, his voice suddenly accelerating to a scream, “Don’t you dare pity me!”

He brought his fist down onto the table with incredible force, chopsticks flying from his hand and the plates jumping from the impact.

Startled and frightened, Kaoru dropped the tall glass of orange juice. The glass fell to the floor and shattered with a loud crash. The juice flew in all directions, splashing all over the floor.

Kenshin’s raging amber eyes were still glowering at her intensely. Kaoru struggled for a moment, trying to calm her ragged breathing. Trembling ever so slightly, she moved her hand.

He suddenly blinked rapidly, shocked out of his anger. Kaoru had, with her shaking hand, picked up her own glass of orange juice and placed in front of him.

Then, without a word, she went around the bar, retrieved a clean dishtowel and returned to the stunned assassin. Her eyes soft, she leaned over with the clean cloth in hand. Kaoru gently dabbed at Kenshin’s cheek where beads of pulpy orange juice had landed. She carefully wiped his cheek clean and then, sighing softly, sunk to the floor. She began to carefully pick up the shards of glass, collecting them in the towel.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Kenshin whispered, his hand going to his cheek.

Kaoru quietly continued to collect the broken pieces of the glass, depositing them in the centre of the towel. She looked up suddenly as a shadow fell over her.

Kenshin stood over her, one hand still gingerly touching the cheek that she had just wiped clean. His golden eyes were blatantly wide with confusion. He dropped to his knees.

“Why,” Kenshin’s voice was strangled, “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Himura,” Kaoru said his name soothingly, looking down again, “You’re only human.”

Kenshin’s vice-like, calloused fingers suddenly caught Kaoru’s wrist as she was reaching for a piece of broken glass.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he hissed.

Kaoru let her eyes drift closed for a moment. “I am beyond that kind of fear.”

Kenshin’s grip on her wrist tightened, almost to the point of bruising.

“I shouldn’t be pitied,” Kenshin whispered hoarsely, his face concealed by a thick curtain of red bangs, “I should never be pitied for my burden. Never.”

“Why shouldn’t I pity you for the hard life you’ve endured?” Kaoru asked earnestly, staring at his bowed head.

“Because I chose to be what I am. I chose this path.”

Slowly, Kaoru lifted her free hand and gently pushed away his red bangs, revealing his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brows.

“I can see it in your face, anyway,” Kaoru breathed softly, “I can see that there’s more to you than just a killing sword, Himura.”

“Then you don’t know me,” Kenshin snarled, opening his amber eyes to stare back at the girl with all the menace he could muster.

“Himura,” Kaoru smirked, throwing his words back at him, “Stop your games.”

For a moment, he glared at her. She stared back with her clear, blue eyes - unflinching. Kenshin snorted softly and released her wrist. He reached for a napkin and began mopping up the spilt juice.

“Don’t call me Himura either,” he said pointedly, not looking up, “It’s just Kenshin. That’s what I want to be called.”

Kaoru smiled. “Okay, Kenshin,” she replied, also bending over to search for more shards, “You may call me Kaoru.”

They finished cleaning the mess in silence and then stood slowly, stretching their knee joints. Kaoru turned towards the kitchen.

“I’ve never slept in it.”

“What’s that?” Kaoru asked, turning in surprise.

“To answer your question from last night, Kaoru,” he said, his lips forming her name appreciatively, “I have never slept in that bed before. An assassin cannot rest.”

Kaoru’s smile was sad when she looked at him. “You mean, a humane assassin cannot rest.”

She continued into the kitchen. Kenshin began to clear up the dishes.

“Do you act like this with all your captors?” he called, his tone low but not cold.

“Not all,” Kaoru smiled softly, knowing that Himura Kenshin was reminding her of her status, but at the same time, apologizing.

“Hey, Himura!” Takasugi yelled as he let himself into the apartment, “We have a meeting.”

Kenshin appeared from kitchen, wringing the suds from his hands. He had just finished washing up the supper dishes.

“What?”

“We have a meeting with Katsura in an hour,” Takasugi announced, flinging himself onto the sofa, “So let’s get a move on!”

“Should I be prepared?” Kenshin asked, stepping into the living area.

“Nah,” Takasugi dismissed it, “You won’t need your weapons. It’s just a meeting.”

Kenshin nodded.

“Takasugi-san,” Kenshin began politely, “About my ongoing assignment - she has a request.”

“It can wait. Anyway, what do you care about her requests - you two get it on or something?”

Kenshin’s eyes glinted somewhat angrily. “It’s a simple request-”

“Not now, Himura. Let me tell you what’s going on first,” Takasugi interrupted, raising a hand, “Katsura would like to meet the chick. We’ll all be meeting tonight.”

Kenshin raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Very well.”

“So now,” the man drawled, picking at his teeth with a toothpick, “What’s this request thing about?”

“Never mind.”

Takasugi shrugged and stood, stretching his long body upwards. “So where is the little chick, anyway?”

“I’m right here, you dirty old man!” Kaoru yelled from the hallway.

Takasugi turned. And the toothpick fell out of his open mouth.

Kaoru glared at him, her hands on her hips. “What the HELL are you staring at?”

“Now THAT is sexy. I just love seeing chicks in school uniforms,” Takasugi smirked, “But I think you better change.”

“Into what?” Kaoru demanded furiously, “The slut clothes you gave me?”

“Believe you me, high school girl,” Takasugi warned with a laugh, “Where we’re going - a school uniform will get you a lot more attention than the clothes I gave you. You don’t know how many fantasies are craving to be fulfilled.”

“Whatever,” Kaoru rolled her eyes, “You pervert.”

Kenshin remained silent, coolly observing. He didn’t actually know where their meeting would be yet. However, it was probably true that the tiny, pleated black school skirt and tight, white blouse that Kaoru was wearing would be seen as quite interesting. He also knew, on the other hand, that she would not bother listening to either of them. So, he remained coldly silent.

“Fine,” Takasugi said, strolling over the door, “Don’t listen to me.”

“Thank you,” Kaoru sniffed, “I won’t.”

Kenshin parked the sleek, black sports car in a seedy, little side street. He slid out of the car and held open the door for Kaoru, who stepped out lightly.

“I don’t see what you’re going on about,” Kaoru snorted at Takasugi.

Takasugi grinned and pointed at a building. Kaoru squinted and read the sign about the door as the trio neared it: Sakura Tea House.

“So?” she grunted, “It’s just a tea house.”

Takasugi chuckled as he opened the door and pushed aside the entry curtain. “Oh it’s much more than a tea house.”

As soon as Kaoru stepped foot into the wooden building, a wave of cigarette smoke and boisterous noises hit her head on. She stopped in her tracks but a firm hand in the small of her back pushed her forward. Kaoru shook her head, coughing slightly at the smoggy, dense atmosphere.

“Welcome to the Sakura Tea House,” Takasugi ushered her in guffawing, “The most reputable tea house in town.”

“Jerk,” Kaoru muttered, still being pushed along by Kenshin.

As soon as her eyes began to adjust to the dim, hazy lighting, she began to make out figures. The crowded club was crawling with hulking men of all sorts. Crawling around these men, and sometimes on top of them, were slim, scantily clad women. Kaoru’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

She walked quickly, trailing at Takasugi’s heels and walking only a step in front of Kenshin, whose hand was hovering at her back.

“Hey Shinsaku!” a loud voice called drunkenly, “Did you bring us a new pet?”

Kaoru tensed suddenly, instantly realizing what Takasugi’s joking warnings had been about.

“Oh look at that!” another voice hooted, “Fresh meat! And tender-looking too!”

Kaoru’s blood ran cold though her hands began to sweat nervously. Suddenly a massive figure was obstructing her path. She shrunk back suddenly.

“Well what do we have here,” a familiar voice crooned menacingly, “If it isn’t my little high school girl - come to satisfy my fantasies.”

Kaoru froze in place, her eyes widening in fear.