Disclaimer: I don’t own Witch Hunter Robin. Don’t rub salt in my wounds. *smiles*
Kitsune: You did what?!?!?
Puff: I programmed the shocker to react with your bio-chemical compositions, as well as all of my muses. Simple, I don’t see your problem.
Kitsune: My problem is that I’m your other half!
Puff: But not chemically, therefore I won’t experience any pain or discomfort.
Kitsune: She doesn’t get it, does she?
Amon: No, she’s dense.
Puff: The pot calling the kettle black, Amon.
Chapter Twenty-Five: And the Torture Continues…
The phone rang in Amon’s apartment, whom was currently in his bathroom trying to get ready for the next date his elder brother had set up. Javan, being ever-so helpful, decided not to bug her father and just answer the phone herself.
“Hello,” Javan chimed, clutching at the phone with both of her small hands. She had pulled the charger stand and the wireless phone off of the counter where it normally sat.
“Is Amon there?” Hattori asked suspiciously, quite certain he had gotten the wrong number. He had been instructed to call Amon’s house and get the hunter for a quick brief on a new case.
“My daddy is busy. Bye-bye,” Javan said bluntly as she clicked the phone off and set it lovingly in its new spot on the floor. Amon came around the corner, smoothing his raven hair with his fingertips. He glared at his small daughter, noting the new arrangement.
“Javan, what happened?” Amon asked calmly, snatching the phone from the little girl and replacing it on the counter. The child attempted to look innocent, twisting her fingers together and smiling brightly. She batted her eyelashes over her blue-gray orbs, tilting her head to the side.
“I just wanted to help you, Daddy. So I answered the phone for you. It wasn’t important,” Javan said hurriedly, sprinting off to her room at full speed, “I’m going to go play.” Her bedroom door shut loudly, evoking a slight smile from her normally stoic father. He started to walk off, to finish his hair, but was stopped by the phone going off again.
“Amon, I tried to match this girl more to your personality,” Nagira explained, “Her name is Keiko. Sweet girl, but kind of jittery; be nice to her. Very pretty, proper, soft-spoken, polite, and generally a lot like your Robin.” The hunter rolled his dark eyes, though they happened to be lit with an odd light.
“Where am I supposed to meet her?” Amon asked coolly, pulling a note pad and a pen towards him.
“She’s going to make dinner herself. I’ll give you her address in a minute. First, I’ll tell you what to expect appearance wise. Waist length black hair, silvery-gray eyes, and very small,” Nagira said cheerfully, “I think you’ll like her.” He quickly gave his baby brother instructions on how to get to the girl’s house, commenting brightly that she was very traditional and would make a perfect wife.
“Javan, I’m going out now,” Amon said, peeking into his daughter’s room. He glanced around, spotting the child sprawled on her butterfly shaped rug. Her face was serene with the gentle touch of sleep. Amon pulled a blanket off of her bed, lightly placing it over her small form. Javan’s fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, a smile spreading across her face. The dark hunter flipped the light off, quietly closing the door as he left.
Amon knocked lightly on the wooden sliding door, glancing around the front courtyard. Carefully tended trees, flowerbeds, miniature waterways, and stone paths were lightly illuminated by glowing candles. There wasn’t a touch of modern society in sight, save for a single car garage set in the shadows.
“You are Amon-san?” A small voice asked, a single silver eye peering out from a tiny crack that had just opened in the doorway.
“Yes,” Amon responded flatly, focusing his intense gaze on the door and the single eye, “Nagira sent me over to meet Keiko.” The door slid open just wide enough to allow the hunter to enter, revealing a small girl who appeared to be around twenty. Her pale pink kimono was wrapped artfully, finished with a neat obi bow set perfectly in the middle of her back. Long black locks were piled on top of her head, a few tendrils snaking down to her neck.
“Please, come in. Take off your shoes,” Keiko said softly, bowing as she stepped back. Amon did as was told, placing his shoes on a mat set in the corner. Her eyes briefly flicked over Amon’s chiseled features, quickly returning to intent examination of the floor. She recoiled slightly when Amon offered her his hand to shake, hiding behind her long flowing sleeves.
“I’ll show you to the table,” Keiko said after a moment, gesturing Amon into a side room with a pale hand, “The meal should be finished in just a moment; I hope that you don’t mind the wait.” A small wooden table, just six inches off of the floor, sat in the middle of the blandly decorated room. A pair of thin cushions had been positioned on opposite sides of the table.
Amon cautiously sat down, kneeling on one of the cushions. He noted that a bowl, cup, and a pair of chopsticks had been placed in front of both seats. A single flower, obviously cut from the courtyard, was in a glass vase on the center of the table.
“I have to get another bowl for the miso soup, but you can eat the rice right now. I apologize,” Keiko said demurely, flat-out refusing to meet Amon’s dark eyes, “Is sake a favorable drink, or would you like tea?” She filled Amon’s bowl with fluffy white rice, quickly pointing to a bottle that held soy sauce.
“Tea, for now,” Amon responded nicely, not wanting to unnerve the girl any further. Her hands were shaking as she nodded and wandered back into the kitchen. She came back with a small tray, two covered bowls of soup and a teapot arranged artfully.
“Here you go; I hope that green tea will be satisfactory,” Keiko commented softly, carefully flicking her kimono sleeve out so that she could pour the tea into the cup. She delicately placed a bowl of soup in front of Amon; her face clearly strained as she made sure every single one of her movements was perfected. She blushed a vivid crimson when she lightly bumped the vase.
“Thank you,” Amon said quickly as the girl precisely arranged her dress when she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap, staring at the table while she waited for Amon to begin to eat. The hunter caught on after a moment, plucking his chopsticks off of the table and carefully sampling the rice. The girl followed suit, eating slowly and discreetly watching Amon’s every move.
“I’ll go get the vegetables and chicken,” Keiko said quickly the second Amon finished the food in front of him. She started to stand when Amon caught her wrist and interrupted her fluid movements, nearly causing her to fall over.
“You should finish eating first,” Amon said flatly, pushing her back down. Fear illuminated her eyes as her head shook back and forth.
“No, that wouldn’t be at all proper,” Keiko protested as she freed herself from the man’s strong grasp and fluttered off into her kitchen. Amon rolled his eyes, silently cursing his older brother and his decidedly odd taste in women. Nagira would probably end up in a world of hurt if his next choice didn’t meet Amon’s standards.
They ate in silence, save for the squeak of embarrassment that escaped Keiko every few minutes when she didn’t do something appropriately. Amon’s annoyance was increased for every passing second until he found himself digging his fingernails into his palm to keep him from snapping. He angrily slammed his chopsticks against the tabletop, standing up as fast as he could.
“I’m sorry,” Keiko said pitifully, throwing herself on the floor in front of her guest. Her head was hung in shame, loose black locks tumbling onto the gleaming wood floor. Amon dropped into a crouching position, grabbing the girl’s silk covered shoulder and pulling her up to eye level.
“Why are you acting like this?” Amon snapped, holding the shaking girl still. She started crying pathetically, sobbing as she futilely tried to pull herself away. Amon obligingly let go and stood back up, Keiko falling backwards in a flurry of pale pink and black silk.
“I’m sorry; this is the way I was raised. I’m sorry. Forgive me, Amon-san. Please, forgive me,” Keiko muttered, wiping at her eyes with the edge of her sleeves. Her face was blotchy and her silvery eyes were wide.
“All right, you’re forgiven. Thank you for the meal, but you aren’t my type. At all,” Amon said coldly as he walked out, stopping only to slip his shoes on at the door. He melted into the shadows that were more evident in the courtyard, his dark eyes glancing back to see Keiko sadly sweeping off the porch. She was still sniffling, but had regained most her composure. It wouldn’t have been proper to remain upset.
“Nagira, this one isn’t any better than the last one,” Amon said flatly into his cell phone, his knuckles completely white as they curled around the steering wheel. He sped down the darkened streets, taking corners much too quickly to be considered safe in least level of the word.
“I was hoping that Keiko would be suited to you, because of her quiet demeanor,” Nagira said thoughtfully, before switching back to his normal tone of voice, “But I suppose you prefer a girl more like your Robin.”
“Now isn’t the time to be teasing me, Nagira,” Amon snarled in a tone that said had his brother been in the vehicle with him, the lawyer probably wouldn’t have been able to talk at all.
“No need to be defensive, Amon. I was just saying that she seems to be well suited to you,” Nagira soothed, “I figured that this one wouldn’t go well, either. Of course, I know that you are naturally a disagreeable person. So, being the best older brother that I can be, I already arranged your next date. It’s around noon, so I’ll call you at eleven to give you details.”
“Eleven exactly? Don’t be late in calling me,” Amon warned, jerking the steering wheel around sharply to take a very tight turn.
“Not a second late, I promise,” Nagira swore, his voice deceptively innocent, “I just hope that you didn’t make Keiko-chan cry. She’s such a delicate girl.” Amon sighed wearily, turning his cell phone off as he pulled into the parking lot. He found the nearest spot, turned the black car off, and climbed out. He shook his head as he walked towards the building where he lived, still disturbed over Nagira’s selections for him.
Author’s Note: Another weird one, huh? ^_^ My first scheduled chapter post on fictionised.net. I’m very happy with myself. *bounces off*