Chapter 3: The Price

Areyn hurried along her way, glancing up at the red-rimmed moon nervously as she made her way through the dark, silent streets. She knew that she'd been sent on a fool's errand. Yumi Komagata was in charge of the kitchen staff of her pretend uncle's house and she hated the young American more than anyone. Why was beyond anyone's ability to guess, but that did not change the fact that the African-American girl was given all of the lowest, most disgusting tasks to accomplish. Tonight she'd been sent out in the middle of the night to buy pickled onions from the open market for Hitashi, who was with child. Everyone knew that the market had closed hours ago, but the girl had known that if she didn’t travel there and back (or at least make it seem as if she had), she would receive a sound beating. Of course, when she came back empty-handed she would receive one anyway, so the girl hardly saw the point.

As she'd set out towards home, she'd immediately felt it. Something was wrong. There had been a feeling of foreboding on the streets all day that had somehow sharpened now that night had fallen. A number of the more established families in the city had been desperately leaving with only as much as they could carry and there were rumors that the war was over at long last. The pieces fell into place around the time of the first bloodcurdling scream rent the tense silence in two. This was why she'd been given leave to venture to the market in the dead of night: Yumi was hoping that she would not return.

"You just don't know," the girl spat derisively. There was a very good reason why she was still alive, and it had nothing to do with her survival skills - impressive as they were. When her uncle discovered her disappearance there was no telling what he'd do to the bitch. This thought brought a dark smile to her full brown lips, one that disappeared as a number of answering yells tore through the night. People were dying all around her. Apparently the Ishin shishi were taking no chances with their hated enemies. As proof of this, a woman fell into her path suddenly - part of a woman anyway. All that was left of her was half a chest and a head. The girl retched, falling to her knees as the full impact of what was happening around her hit. She had to get off the street; these men had become animals, viciously wiping out anyone who might possibly pose a threat to the new Era they'd just established. In their state of mind it was entirely possible for them to cut her down without a second thought. She stood up from the puddle of sick she'd just made and sprinted away, willing her mind to shut out the sounds of frantic women and children dying in the streets. The ground was slick with blood; she'd never thought that she'd see so much blood at one time.

Then the fires started.

"You bastards," she huffed furiously, feeling tears running in warm streaks down her face. Not satisfied with individual slaughter, the fighters had started burning the possessions of those who'd been loyal to the Shogunate. Including the people.

She ran headlong around a corner, and ran smack into a warm body no bigger than her own. Her own body reacted automatically, whipping them both into a wall.

'I guess all those beatings are starting to pay off,' she sighed to herself. She looked the boy over quickly while he recovered, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. The first thing she noticed was his flaming red hair, which seemed to dance in the firelight around them. He was wearing a dark blue gi and a hamaka that may have been white or light grey at some point but now was covered in mud and grime and... Was that blood?

'He's one of them,' her mind chirped in sudden, unbridled terror. Here she was, in the middle of a war zone, with one of the enemy cradled in her arms, bleeding all over her. Oh, this was bad. This was so very, very bad!

Her mind was suddenly full of her father's final instructions to her. No matter how bad she might feel about the boy's situation, she had her own mission to fulfill.

If she died, her wicked uncle would win.

But before she could succumb to her fear, his head jerked up and she knew that no matter what, she would help this poor soul. He couldn't have been much older than she was, with high proud cheeks and a delicate bone structure that was almost feminine. His red locks framed his face perfectly, giving him a cherubic look even in the midst of this chaos. It was his eyes that decided her, however. His eyes were the most lovely she'd ever seen, a soft violet that had no place in this massacre. They were depthless and revealing, and right now they were filled with the type of shock and horror she'd known in those last fateful days before she'd entered her nightmare of a life.

The girl felt her resolve harden, even as thundering footsteps made their way towards the pair. It happened in an instant, in fact she was almost certain that the boy must have heard the *click* in her head as the plan fell into place in her head. Without a second thought she turned them around, this time slamming him into the wall. The boy fell down from the impact, those same eyes now filled with confusion and just the smallest spark of anger. Without hesitation she dropped down into the mud, and ran a handful of the thick brown stuff through his hair for camouflage. She had just enough time to put a muddy finger to her lips and stand up, partially shielding the boy, before the owners of those thunderous steps came into view.

"Which way did that little runt go?" one of the burly men ground out furiously. His katana was slick with blood and he looked half mad with bloodlust. "Where is he? You! Girl," he barked, finally noticing her. "An arrogant runt ran through here. Where did he go?"

"We've seen many people running these streets tonight, my lord," the girl responded in fluent Japanese to his horrible attempt at broken English. She permitted herself a small interior smile at the plainly shocked looks on all of the men's faces as well as that of the boy she was protecting. 'At least I have their attention now,' she smirked interiorly.

"You... speak Japanese?" the man said slowly, looking as if she'd just shocked him to the core.

"Yes, my lord," she answered patiently, resisting the urge to roll her eyes or sound sarcastic, two things that would surely get her killed.

"There was a boy. Red hair - no older than you. Did you see him?"

"I don't believe so, my lord. Although there have been a great number of boys running around and the fires make all of their hair look reddish," she said, looking the picture of innocence and integrity.

The man swore violently. "Did any of those boys have the Devil's own golden eyes?" he barked again, losing his patience. He was going to cut that slippery little brat into a hundred little pieces when he caught him. This was supposed to have been easy!

"No, my lord, not that I saw."

"What about you, boy?" the man growled, finally noticing the boy kneeling at the girl's feet. "Have you seen anyone?"

"I'm so sorry, my lord, but my brother is mute."

"Your brother??"

"Although we do not share blood, we are both servants in the house of Fuushiro."

"Fuushiro, eh? A good man," the man pronounced thoughtfully. "You two should hurry on home then. This is not a place for such a good man's underlings to be."

"As my brother and I have learned," the girl interjected smoothly.

"Eh?"

"We fell into the path of one of the warriors as we were racing for home, and he was wounded," she lied expertly, stepping aside to reveal the mud-stained boy at last. She had to compliment him. He'd kept his face down and his mouth shut throughout this whole ordeal, a rare occurrence in the arrogant, egotistical morons she'd encountered thus far in her new homeland. 'Of course, that might be because he knows that he's a hair's breath from discovery.' She'd actually taken a huge chance giving her man her uncle's name, but she'd known that the rebels would recognize the name of the man who'd supplied a healthy portion of the weapons and artillery for the rebellion. And she'd known from the moment she'd looked into the boy's eyes that he'd be a member of the Fuushiro Family by night's end.

"Give this to your master for the boy's wounds," the man grunted, tossing a handful of sen on the ground in front of the boy. "And hurry home," he commanded sternly before starting his search again, snapping orders to his men, who immediately split up and melted back into the chaos.

"Here," the boy said timidly as he rose from the dirty street. He handed the girl the money Uchi had thrown at him, looking a bit awed by the whole experience.

"Arigato," she chirped, bowing slightly before accepting the gift. She quickly totaled and halfed it, pushing some back at him.

"I can't accept this."

"Why not?" she asked serenely, staring the boy down until his eyes dropped and he slipped the money into his hamaka. "You should come with me."

"Come with-"

"My name is Areyn Darcy and I honestly do work for the house of Fuushiro. If you stay out here they're going to find and kill you, at least this way you'll have a chance. If you still want one," she added quietly, looking at her feet. It looked as if the boy was all alone in this world now. If he wished for death, she certainly could do nothing to stop him.

"I'm Kenshin Himura, and I'm honored that you would help me." She felt the blush right down to her toes and quickly moved off into the darkness to hide it. She could feel his surprise when she set off in a new direction rather than back the way she'd come, but he kept his silence.

"Your face would be wasted where I'm from. But Takani-sama would be much better availed of your service," she explained gently when they'd gotten far enough away that the two could barely hear the shrieks of the dying.

"Hai," he said vaguely, limping along behind this brave girl who'd stood up to a group of stone-cold killers for his sake. He just couldn't get over it; why was she helping him? Especially if she numbered among those that had fought for the winning side? He watched her as she moved through the streets with the ease and grace of one twice her age. She was confident in her stride and, opening his senses as his grandfather had taught him to, he felt a staggering amount of strength and determination radiating off of her as well. There was a deep pain buried within her Ki, but even that could not overshadow the power she wielded. He quickly stopped; dazzled by her light, but the girl didn't even seem to have noticed his examination of her spirit. Who was she?

They were now in the area of town he'd often heard his mother refer to as 'the upper class whore district'. He almost stopped in his tracks as she strode up to the largest of the teahouses and knocked on the front gate without a trace of shame. But then she beckoned him closer and warned him quietly to let her do the talking and he could do little else but look up dazedly as the gates opened to reveal a ridiculously tall, lanky man with spiky hair and a red bandana tied around his head. The man was dressed in a white hamaka and gi, both of which had a black trim that matched his black Chinese-style slippers. The fishbone dangling out of his mouth looked as if it had been there for too long.

"Whaddya want, Are-chan?" he said with an easy grin. "Aren't you out a little late and a little far from Yumi-san's watchful eye?"

"Tomagata-sama sent me for pickled onions for Hitashi-san, but the market was closed. I ran into this orphan boy who saved me. I think he might do well here, Sagara-san." The boy could only blink at his new friend's tone. Her voice had suddenly deflated to a soft, defeated pitch that did not suit the wondrous aura he'd nearly been blinded by a few minutes ago.

Sagara looked the earnest girl over for a moment before bursting out laughing. "So that's your cover story? It's pretty thin."

"His parents died of cholera a few weeks ago," she continued, her expression dull but otherwise unreadable. "He saved my life tonight by pushing me out of the way of some crazed killers roaming the streets. Check his side."

The man whistled impressively, at the blood still oozing down the boy's side. "That looks deep. What's your name, kid?"

"Himura-san," the boy bowed, cringing in pain.

"Well, 'Himura-san'," the man laughed, "Are-chan must really like you to stick her neck out like this. You know what'll happen to her if-"

"I'm not helping anyone Sagara-san," she said in that monotone drone that set the boy on edge. "Look at his eyes." She waited until the man gasped before continuing. "Takani-sama would have you beat me senseless were I to leave such eyes to wander blood-soaked streets tonight."

"I can never tell when you're lying anymore," Sagara muttered in a much more serious tone than before. "You said his folks died of cholera?"

"You have taught me well the lesson of lies, Sagara-san," she answered him blandly. "The boy has no one. I believe he would be wasted in my master's dojo."

Sanosuke Sagara looked the girl over critically, trying his best to see through her. His official job was to guard Megumi Takani's teahouse, a duty he was almost never needed for. As the widow of the powerful Fuushiro brothers, most knew that she and hers were strictly off limits. Those that didn't were weak and quickly educated to the fact. But the true reason he'd been hired was because he'd caught the girl in a boldfaced lie the first time the two had met.

'Megumi-san may act like a tease and a softie, but she's no fool,' he admitted to himself. At age seven Areyn had been able to fool anyone around her, but at the time the ex-fighter had a sixth sense that seemed specifically tuned to the girl. Given the frequency of her visits, it had served his employer well to have someone around who could separate truth from fiction. And because of his strength he'd been more than able to punish the girl to the woman's satisfaction. There'd been a time when he'd sent her back to Fuushiro with angry bruises up and down her back almost weekly, and this seemed to have cured her of her nasty talent for dishonesty. But every once in a while he was sure that she was fooling him as well.

"Go on in, Are-chan," he said at last, finding nothing in her face or stance to hold against her. "Megumi-san's in her room."

"Thank you, Sagara-san." The girl bowed low and methodically, the same way she'd always bowed to him, even after her punishments. As always, the action wrenched at him, but he still had to eat, right?

"Forgive me, Are-chan," he whispered to her retreating back.

"Let me handle this." Areyn pitched her voice so low that the boy barely heard her, but he nodded slightly to let her know that he understood. Otherwise, the two made no sound as they passed by two rows of richly decorated dining rooms, one to either side of them, on their way to meet this mysterious 'Megumi-san'. When they reached the door, the girl had him stand to her side a one step behind her before moving forward and kneeling in abject humility and knocking on the shoji door as respectfully as one could.

"Enter," said a bored voice. The girl slid the door open, but remained where she was. "So, have you brought me a date, Areyn-chan?" Before he could register the question the beautiful, raven-haired woman who sat behind her desk in a kimono fit for royalty let loose the strangest laugh he'd ever heard in his life. "Ohohohoho!"

The girl remained bowed low, which annoyed the woman to no end. "Well, enter already! I have things to do tonight."

"I would not wish to soil your things, Takani-sama," she said dully, her head still touching the floorboard. Kenshin could see why she'd hesitate to enter the woman's private rooms. They dripped with opulence; he had a hard time not fidgeting, knowing what he must look like to her.

"What are you here for?"

"I brought you a potential, Takani-sama. But the streets have not been kind, and he's been injured." Megumi quirked a perfectly made up eyebrow in interest. She could only imagine what the American must think of her prosperous little teahouse in which one could always find companionship - no matter their appetites. For the girl to bring someone into such a life spoke of the boy' desperation. But what was the girl hoping to accomplish with such a peace offering? She came around the side of her overlarge desk to consider the two. They were covered in filth, but the boy seemed to have taken the worse of the dirt and grime. She spied his injury, which looked deep, but with the right treatment, he would heal without a scar.

'Then again, some of the girls would like that,' she mused, all business. She was eager to appraise the boy and see what Areyn saw, but first...

"Go and have a bath, both of you. Dr. Genzai will see to your wounds, boy. Once he is patched up, bring him to me and we will see if he's Silent Dove material," the woman announced the name of her teahouse grandly. She was almost annoyed when the girl simply thunked her head on the floorboard softly instead of spewing the thanks that she should. It had gone without saying that the girl would be spending the night, a luxury that she did not deserve. But it would be worth it if the boy turned out to be-

"Thank you very much, Takani-sama," the girl interrupted, before rising to shut the shoji doors.

"Go through the back, Areyn-chan. I don't want you two frightening the customers!"

It was two days before the proprietor saw the girl and her potential again. The delay had come from the doctor, who'd insisted that the boy have some rest before moving around too much. Looking at the boy now, Megumi knew that this audience was only for show. The boy had the face and grace of a true geisha. With the proper guidance, his natural talent would shine through.

"Takani-sama, may I present Kenshin Himura-san. He's petitioning to become one of your students."

Megumi let her hand run up the side of her too small kimono, a seemingly unconscious motion, and smiled winningly when the boy kept his eyes carefully averted from her womanly features. Oh, he would do nicely.

"Most of my girls and boys are here because they have to be. They've been sold to me by their families or they have nowhere else to go. What has brought you to my teahouse, Himura-san?"

"Are-"

"Before Areyn-chan's involvement."

The boy thought hard on the matter, knowing that his answers could determine both his and Areyn's fate. "My parents died a few weeks ago, along with my sisters. Since that, our family's dojo was sold to pay off my father's debts and I've been left out on the streets. I have a little money," he put in quickly, showing her the money he'd been given the night his old life had ended, "but I know it won't last forever. Meeting Areyn-chan was nothing short of the god's intervention, however. I had no idea what I was going to do until she told me that she might be able to help me."

Megumi nodded, sensing the lie in the first part of his story and the truth in the second. The boy obviously did not want to reveal where he'd come from, but he also had to be very much alone in the world to be willing to sell himself into this life. She glanced over at Sanosuke to confirm her suspicions and was pleased to see that he'd drawn the same conclusions she had. The man had become almost invaluable to her in the brief year he'd worked with her.

"Do you know what this place is, Himura-san?"

"It's a whor-teahouse, Takani-sama," he finished carefully.

"You may call me Megumi-san. Only the help refers to me as 'sama'," the woman said, waving him off. "No doubt Areyn-chan has done her best to prepare you for this meeting." She glanced over the girl discreetly, noticing that the girl hadn't moved or flinched at the accusation. She sighed softly; if not for her uncle's insistence and the lack of a market for her beauty, the girl may have made a precocious geisha herself.

"Let me tell you a little about myself before you decide to join this establishment. I was the 'daughter' of one of the most prestigious teahouses in Tokyo before I bought my freedom and moved here to start over. I built this place to bring a touch of class to the rough city - my late husband's estate has funded it well. I assure you that this place is not some lowly whorehouse, boy. My pupils are highly educated - as was I. Should you choose to stay here, you shall receive thorough lessons in history, the arts, politics, world cultures, and many other topics of interest. It is only upon completing the education that I set before you that we will even begin to discuss your payment."

"Make no mistake; I never make an investment without a three-fold return. If you cannot live up to your lessons, you will repay me in manual labor. I won't have my time wasted. Although my pupils go on to become what are commonly known as geisha, the name by no means covers these extraordinary children. I train my pupils to be companions to their clients rather than simple bedroom entertainment. This makes you highly desirable to the ladies - and possibly gentlemen - who will patron you. When that phase of your time here begins, you will begin to repay me for my generous training. Many of my pupils stay with me, but some are inclined to buy their freedom. But those are things to discuss later. For now, let me tell you that you will need much more than just your pretty face to make it here. Are you willing to accept my terms, Himura-san?"

"Yes, Megumi-san," the boy said, bowing humbly.

"Good," Megumi nodded, ringing for a servant. "Take this boy to Lio-san's old room. Ken-san will be staying with us from now on."

"Yes, Takani-sama," a non-descript young girl bowed before leading the boy away.

Areyn still did not know how to feel about her decision as she entered the Fuushiro dojo. On the one hand, she was relieved that the boy would be out of harm's way. But on the other hand, she'd just thrust him head first into the life of a whore. And she'd effectively ended their budding friendship.

"Geisha don't fraternize with the help," she muttered disdainfully, quoting Yumi as she expertly navigated the back way to the study. Normally she would have reported straight to the kitchen, but Megumi had insisted she report straight to her master, and if anyone fit that description, it was her godfather/uncle. She had to hand it to the woman: she was very cunning. It was also a fact that there was no love lost between the two former geishas. This had been the entrepreneur's golden opportunity for abject humiliation, given her brother-in-law's ridiculous protectiveness of the child. Sometimes Areyn had to wonder if the clever fox had figured her uncle out, but she was nonetheless grateful for her chance to embarrass her hated mistress. Assuming her usual kneeling position by her uncle's door, the girl knocked and waited for the show to begin.

"Enter," said an all too familiar cold voice. She shuffled into the room, suppressing a shudder.

"You worried me," the man accused the bowed head of his 'niece'. She remained silent, much to his annoyance. "Where have you been, Areyn?"

"Takani-sama had me stay with her while waiting to present a potential pupil." The man sat back slowly, putting the pieces together after two days of fretting. Of course the girl hadn't run away in the chaos of that fated night. She had nowhere to go; no hope of fitting into such a xenophobic society. That was, in fact, the reason he'd brought the little heiress here in the first: so she'd have no one but him. As for Megumi's generosity, he suspected it had everything to do with the fox' ongoing war with her disgraced former rival, Yumi Tomagata.

"Your grace," a voice said breathlessly from the door. Areyn turned just in time to see a much frazzled Yumi strut in the room. She was wearing a layered kimono of red with green trim - hardly appropriate for kitchen work. But then again, the woman was known for 'overseeing' rather than actually working.

"I only just heard that the treacherous little ingrate had returned to us," she continued, ignoring the girl completely. Areyn spied a tell-tale bruise on the woman's neck and couldn't help an interior grin. So, she had been punished for sending Fuushiro's prize out into the night.

"I see," the man said drearily. "You may go, Areyn."

"Yes sir," she said primly. "Tomagata-sama?"

"What?"

"I have the pickled onions you asked me to get for Hitashi-san two nights ago," she said, producing a small jar of the treats she'd fetched from the market on the way home. Again she had to work not to let her smile show in her face or voice as Yumi's face drained of all color under her powders and makeup. "Here is the change from the purchase, ma'am."

With her usual humble bow, the girl gave over the money and made her way to the kitchen, knowing that the two other occupants of the room would think her too dense to know the turmoil she'd just caused.

"If you ever try something like this again, I'll kill you," her uncle growled softly before she shut the door.

Alone in the hallway, Areyn finally permitted herself a small smile before returning to her dull, dreary self.

"Chores to be done," she muttered softly, the thrill of her victory warming her completely.

Apologies for the delay in the next chapter. Now that exams are over, I am free to give this story more attention.

Please review! I am looking for comments, criticisms, and anything else people might have to say.