Chapter 3: A Day in the Life
"Bring in those crates, girl," one of the kitchen maids snapped. "If you're going to look like a pack animal, you might as well act like one," the woman griped angrily, referring to her skin tone. Areyn held her tongue as she had learned to do over the years, using the anger to help her lift the bulky crates she'd been given. They were too heavy for her, but she was used to such heavy burdens by now.
It had been three years since that fateful night when Kyoto had been razed to the ground. Now the people lived in the uneasy peace of the Meiji Era. The ghosts of that night still seemed to walk alongside the living - suicide was not uncommon among the victors of Bakumatsu. Still, there was peace Most even believed that this Era was better than the one before.
For Areyn little had changed with the coming of the new age. Her monthly cycle had begun the year before, officially ushering her into womanhood, and with that transition had come other physical traits that-
"I wish to speak to you, Areyn," a chilling male voice ordered, making the girl cringe inwardly. She stacked the last of her crates and then began the trek to her uncle's study, a place she had never been invited to before coming into her own. Her once soft and somewhat portly body had thinned out and stretched into a very comely shape after years of manual labor. And although she was still shunned by the bulk of those she came in contact with, there were usually one or two lustful glances thrown her way in passing.
It was her uncle's constant attentions that worried and sickened her, however. The man had finally recognized her potential use as a female and the only heir to the Darcy estate and had begun a highly secretive and round-about courtship of his young charge over the last few months. His advances had finally driven the girl to wear an old sack filled with carefully placed mud under her clothing. She counted herself very lucky that he liked his woman thin. Her feigned obesity was enough to turn his nose and cut her already miniscule daily food portion, but the alternative was much worse in her opinion.
Max looked his young charge over carefully as she bowed her way into his presence as she always did.
"How has your day been?" the man asked awkwardly.
"Fine, Fuushiro-sama," she answered neutrally. The man groaned inwardly. The girl was always so damn polite. He wanted her to sass him sometimes so he'd have an excuse to teach her a lesson. He wanted to sample her, but dared not, knowing that he would have to gain the girl's admiration and devotion before such a thing was possible.
"You look as if you're gaining weight, niece," he said pointedly, examining her with a critical eye. He knew that the girl took after her mother in that regard, but her girth was disturbing considering the strict diet Yumi was more than happy to keep her on. Perhaps she really was stealing food from the kitchen.
"I will be very upset should I discover that you are stealing from my house after all I've done for you. Do not shame your poor, dead parents."
"I would never do anything I thought might shame my 'poor, dead parents', uncle," the girl said humbly, obviously hearing the dismissal in his voice. He glowered at her retreating back and made his plans. He would have her in his bed soon enough. All he needed was time.
Areyn hurried on her way before the man could act on the impulses swimming behind his flat, dark eyes. She made her way back to the kitchen, knowing what was coming next. She forced herself not to dodge Yumi's slap, letting her head roll to the side for the woman's added pleasure. It was an easy act to pull off; she'd been doing it for years now.
"You stupid, ignorant girl! How dare you shirk your responsibilities? Where have you been?"
"Fuushiro-sama demanded to see me. I apologize, Tomagata-sama, for my tardiness."
Yumi growled low in her throat, turning from the disgusting child in front of her. There was nothing more she could do to the brat after that explanation.
"The bath-houses aren't going to clean themselves, girl. Get to work." She followed the dark-skinned girl to watch her complete the daunting task set before her, feeling some of her dark mood lift. While the woman knew better than most how diligently Areyn went about her chores, there was something satisfying about watching the little monkey work. Her eyes narrowed, wondering what Fuushiro could possibly see in the girl. She'd noticed the attention the man had lavished on the girl since her arrival at the dojo; had in fact born his wrath for allowing her to wander off the night the war ended. But she found herself wondering - as she had many times over the years - what was so special about the foreigner.
"Fuushiro-sama asked to see you, Tomagata-sama," one of the serving girl said softly at her elbow.
"Of course," Yumi sighed, heading to her employer's study. She wanted to toss a scathing remark at the American, something emphasizing her superiority in the man's bed, but decided against it. She would keep her master's secrets, disgusting as they might be.
"...waste of my time," she muttered darkly, sweeping into the house. She wasn't sure what annoyed her more; the fact that her taunting always seemed to fall on deaf ears where the girl was concerned or that the faint tug of jealousy still nagged at her whenever Max asked about the brat.
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"This is pointless," the man muttered as he watched his 'pupils' disdainfully. They were moving through the katas he'd taught them - deadly katas carefully preserved and passed down though thirteen generations of Hiten Mitsurugi masters - as if they were some sort of dance. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he kicked the legs out from under one of the boys before correcting his form.
"This isn't a damn waltz, boy! These are the techniques that formed this peaceful era you live in." Liu looked up at his sempai, resentment and badly-hidden amusement for the war veteran's situation in his eyes.
"Forgive me, Hiko-sempai," the boy said, his impertinence plain on his face. Hiko smacked him on the back of his head a bit harder than his employer strictly allowed before moving to the next student. He'd been subjected to this torture for the last three years. Some days he honestly didn't know why he bothered correcting his stupid apprentices. The moves they were learning were only for show and self defense anyway. They majority of them would never need this training and only two or three of them showed any promise. With a heavy sigh he sank into a sitting position, watching his favorite pupils to comfort himself.
"Your tea, Hiko-sama," a tiny voice whispered at his side. The man took the drink with a nod, sending the child scurrying out of the room, her tea tray covering her face.
"Are you scaring the help again, Hiko-san?" came a voice that would forever grate on his nerves. Megumi moved into the room gracefully as always, taking a seat next to him. "They are getting better."
"Bah! What would you know, woman? That idiot Rio would likely stab himself in the eye were I to give him a sword right now. Half of them wouldn't know what to do with the moves I've taught them if their lives depended on it! Kiki," he interrupted himself suddenly, making a tall, graceful girl jump. "For the last time, stop adding to the kata! The liquid grace of the Hiten Mitsurugi is beautiful enough without your unnecessary flailing and fawning like an overstuffed peacock!" At that, the fifteen year old girl dropped her bokken and fled the dojo, sobbing helplessly. The man sighed angrily, mentally counting to ten before growling at the class to finish their strokes. "These kids are too soft."
"That they are, Hiko-san," Megumi said, using the honey-sweet tone that let him know that he would hear about the incident later. "They belong to an Era where swords are forbidden, yet I allow you to teach them your technique."
"For all that they'll use it," the man griped, taking an angry sip of his tea and letting the bit of alcohol in it sooth his temper.
"You are dismissed," the woman said sharply, waiting for all of her geisha to head off for their next lesson before turning her full attention on the man. "This has to stop, Hiko-san. I will not have you terrorizing my pupils-"
"You hired me to make them strong!"
"I hired you to teach them to defend themselves in the highly unlikely event that they are attacked. All they seem to have learned is a healthy dread of your classes."
"Not all of them are that useless," Hiko countered. "Kenshin and Soujiro both seem to be picking up the true way of the sword-"
"They are not your pupils, but mine, Hiko-san."
"They have warrior blood in them."
"Warrior blood will do them no good in this time of peace," the woman countered waspishly. "We've been over all of this before, Hiko-san."
"I'm teaching them exactly as I was taught."
"Find a better way or you will be replaced. I will not warn you again, Hiko-san. There are a great many swordsmen left over from the war and any of them-"
"Keep your threats to yourself, Megumi-san," he grumbled, taking a long drought of his tea and effectively ending the argument. "They won't be any stronger for your coddling, but so be it. I will do as you ask."
Megumi bristled at the curt dismissal and decided to draw blood. "I would think you'd be happy with this arrangement, Master Hiko. After all, the generous salary I pay you is enough to indulge your... vices," she finished with a pointed look at his tea cup. The man froze with the cup halfway to his lips, his already thin lips drawn into an impossibly thin line as he ordered himself not to kill the foolish woman sitting next to him for taking him so lightly. He picked up his sword and stood, satisfied with the brief look of terror that crossed her face before she could cover it.
"You would do well to remember that I was not born into this false peace. Tread carefully." He left before she could say anything to fully rouse his anger.
It was the truth of Megumi's words that galled him more than anything. She was right; the salary he received for his work was more than any hardened veteran of Bakumatsu received for his natural skills, not to mention the lush accommodations. He was meant to rest from war, to luxuriate in the peace he had bled for.
The man scowled furiously, throwing his cup into the plush garden he had escaped to. What a foolish notion - the idea that a warrior could allow the sharpened edge of him, his sword, to rust simply because of a change in times. How foolish of the agents of this Meiji Era to believe that by forbidding old men's first love - the sword - that they would simply disappear, taking the guilt of the young, foolish officials with them. And all the more foolish were the warriors of those days - those that fought on both sides of the chaos - for allowing it to happen.
When he looked up from such dark thoughts, it was to find one of his favorite students studying him speculatively.
"You should be in class, boy."
"I would like to learn your fighting style more seriously, Hiko-sempai," Kenshin said, his fiery red bangs covering his eyes.
"Do you?" Hiko said, forcing the irritation out of his voice. "You understand that what such a request would entail?"
"Hai." Hiko looked the boy over carefully, trying to see through the careful defenses he'd built around his emotions. That was good, the man nodded approvingly. A careful hold on one's emotions was a pre-requisite for learning the true Hiten Mitsurugi style. It was, in fact, the one trait that the two geisha he considered his true pupils possessed.
"You must clear your training with Megumi-san," he said sternly.
"Hai, Shishio," the boy nodded gravely, bowing low and respectfully. He scampered off at that, and Hiko Seijiro allowed himself his first genuine smile in three years. It would be easy to let the twenty or so geisha-in-training blunder through his katas, as long as he had one student who took the work seriously.
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It took little time to make her rounds in the market place. Mostly, she was there to confirm the orders for foods that would never touch her plate and pick produce meant for the same fate. There were a number of girls that could have done the job, but Yumi felt it was safer and faster to send her 'unsavory' charge into the market. As far as the woman knew, she had no friends outside of the dojo - in fact, she had no friends at all. Therefore Areyn had no reason to dawdle. This suited the pre-teen just fine as it meant that whatever time she arrived back home would not be questioned.
She'd just finished her with the house orders when a hand landed on her shoulder.
"And what's a pretty little thing like you doin' wondering around in that get-up?" a rough and unsteady British sailor asked. She glanced back and noticed that there were only three of sailors, all looking at her as if she were some interesting specimen of monkey. "You're a negro, right? What kinda negro wears a bloody kimono?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand you," the girl lied smoothly, thanking God for the months Yumi had spent pounding perfect Japanese into her. She let her gaze drop demurely and started once again on her way, walking backwards now and not expecting for one minute that the drunken foreigners would leave it at that. Fortunately, this was a game she'd played many times before. If she could just get them off the street...
"Hey! What're you doin speaking Japanese, girlie?" another of the men leered. "That's not a skill what's come by easily. No, don't be afraid," he said, grabbing for her arm. "We're just a couple of gents out looking for a good time. Don't want no trouble, now do we, gents?" The three started laughing as their prey stayed just out of their reach. "Why don't you come with us, girlie? We'll make sure you get home if that's where you're headed."
"Yeah," the third chimed in, his smile slipping at his failed attempt to grab her skirt, "after we've all had a bit of fun."
"I'm only trying to get home. Please leave me alone," she said, still feigning an inability to understand anything but their tone. Her mind was barely on the words she was gibbering as she easily avoided their grubby hands and calculated the distance to the alleyway. She knew better than to ask the throng of regulars in the market for help by now. Most were such cowards that they could barely be persuaded to help their own. And as for the rest, she was not willing to let anyone 'sample' her. That meant that she only had herself to rely on, and that meant-
"Stop bothering the girl," a carefully neutral voice interrupted her thoughts and the men's actions in perfect English. Areyn felt relief and anger flood her in equal parts. 'At least it'll be over soon,' she sighed to herself.
"What did you say to us, you-" Sailor #2 chose that moment to turn around and face, not some timid little boy as he'd obviously expected, but a tall, lanky man with eyes as cold as they were golden. He wore the uniform of a Japanese policeman, but carried a regular katana as opposed to the standard issue foils given to most of the officers. Lackeys number 1 and 2 seemed to get the hint that she was off-limits right away from the unknown man's very presence. Unfortunately, lackey number 3 was too inebriated to take the silent hint.
"What the hell do you want? We're just having a little chat with the lady, and we don't want to be disturbed. Don't you have some-?"
He promptly lost consciousness as the officer punched him in the mouth.
"I won't taint my sword with your blood, but I suggest you move along," the man said, glaring at them in a tone which brooked no argument. The two sailors gathered their friend and scampered off, hurling curses behind them as they ran. The officer turned to ensure that nothing more than curses would be thrown.
"You didn't have to do that, Saitou-kun," the girl huffed behind him. "I had everything under control."
"You're my pupil," the officer shrugged, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply before speaking. "I know you could handle it, but I prefer you not waste the skills I've taught you on fools."
"Who would you prefer I 'waste' them on then?" she countered, letting what had passed for a smile since her parents' death grace her lips. She couldn't help her amusement: this was exactly the type of situation that had befallen her when she'd first met Saitou Hajime. It had happened two years ago, and that time there had been a lot more than three merchants 'looking for a good time'. She often puzzled over how she caught anyone's interest, but usually chalked it up to the weirdness factor of her existence.
Back then she's known little more than street brawling techniques she'd seen and copied off the television, and even at the tender age of nine she'd known that she was no match for the men. So she'd run - that was the first and last time she'd actually called for help. After running for a good twenty minutes she'd flagged down a man who'd taken one good look at the gang pursuing her and had pushed her down in front of them before running away. She'd started biting then - biting and kicking and scratching - anything she could think of to make them hurt her rather than rape her. That was the one thing she would not, could not let happen.
But before the men could retaliate, a single katana had bloomed from the chest of the gang leader. He stared at it uncomprehendingly before it was withdrawn and he slumped over dead. After that the men had scattered frantically, leaving the girl to her fate.
"Your power comes from your legs, girl. Have you been doing those exercises-?"
"You know I have," she grumbled, her thoughts pulled back to the present by his tone.
"Good. That is all I'll teach you today. Practice when you can and meet me here - on time - next week."
"Arigato, Saitou-kun," she said, bowing respectfully before handing over her bokken and running off. Saitou watched her go, annoyed at the questions surrounding her. Mibu's Wolf was meant for more than teaching little girls how to fight. 'But then again,' he smirked to himself, 'Mibu's Wolf was meant for more than walking the streets dispatching common thugs.' He turned crisply and continued on his route, wondering why he even bothered with this part of his job.
"Aku Soku Zan," he breathed, knowing that the pursuit of justice could not be trusted to the delusional weaklings of the Meiji. These were not the men who had found and bled and changed the world, but the fools who had tried their best to eliminate anyone who wouldn't fit into the world their soldiers had created. They'd learned quickly that you can't kill the blades - the true blades - on either side of the revolution. So they'd struck deals and offered incentives to them. He'd been given a job as a detective on the police force on the conditions that he changed his name and pretended to accept their authority. He had laughed coldly when the deal had been offered; understanding instantly that having a member of the Shinsengumi on a Meiji payroll would have tarnished their credibility. As far as anyone knew, Saitou Hajime was dead along with every other trace of the opposition.
He'd lived his life since hunting and wiping out corruption whenever and wherever he saw it. It was this resolve which made his current investigation so very frustrating. The Fuushiro family was one of the most corrupt businesses in Japan. They had their hands in everything from human trafficking to drugs and a little of everything in between. He'd been building an air-tight case against them since he'd begun his new life, but had met with resistance and problems at every turn. This was only to be expected as the Fuushiro brothers were heroes of the era and had therefore been labeled untouchable by almost every branch of the Meiji government. He would have preferred to administer his own brand of justice, but such a thing was impossible without something to back the act.
When he'd run across Areyn Fuushiro, he'd considered it Kami-sama's personal gift to him. The girl owed him her life, but on top of this, she seemed to think of him as a friend. He wasn't sure how he was going to use that to bring down her dirty uncle, but something about the way her eyes hardened whenever he brought up her legal guardian told him that he had only to ask and he would have an ally.
Of course, her position in the Fuushiro household was something of a mystery in itself. Her Ki all but screamed for vengeance at any mention of Maxwell Fuushiro, but it was tempered in a way that no eleven-year-olds should be. She was eager to learn the Hiratsuki, the signature move of the Shinsengumi and had picked up an astounding amount of his Gatotsu since she'd started her lessons. So who exactly was this girl? Although he was grateful for a possible source of information, her presence in Japan made no sense. There wasn't a Japanese man in this country that would soil their house's good name by taking a foreign child into their home. She hadn't been born here - as impressive as her grasp of Japanese was, she could never emulate the colloquiums that came from growing up in this country. Hell, Max was endangering his reputation by having such a girl around. Yet here she was, working for the man's house and sword training under his nose. Saitou had tried many times to discover her origins and her part in the power-hungry merchant's plans, but had always hit a brick wall. All he knew was that the girl was a foreigner - nationality unknown - and that she'd been brought to Japan five years ago. His own superiors had warned him about prying further into the matter. And while this could have been linked to the same warnings he'd been given regarding the Fuushiros in general, something about the urgency behind those warnings told him that there was something special about the girl herself.
But there was nothing on her. No mother, no father, no date of birth, and no adoption papers - it was as if the girl had not existed until she showed up in Max's dojo. It vexed that man to no end as he was known for his skills in investigation and digging up the very secrets that people preferred to keep hidden. And as much as little Areyn seemed to hate both her guardian and her station in his house, she did not seem ready to spill her life story.
"I will prevail," he vowed, tipping his hat to two ladies as they crossed his path. He would have Maxwell Fuushiro's head soon enough.
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"I wonder why Takani-sama sent you along this time?" a girl asked as she bounced rather than walked towards one of her favorite places in the city. "She usually sends one of the older girls as cover." She tossed her long braid over her shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time and brushed invisible dirt off of her navy blue and purple ninja outfit, tossing self-conscious glances over her shoulder as she did.
Kenshin looked the wiry little girl over and couldn't help but chuckle. She'd been a good friend to him since he'd started training under Megumi-san. She worked as a servant in the house, scrubbing the house floors until they gleamed. Strangely enough, her hyperactivity and boisterous nature were perfect for her job, and she knew to stay out of the way when 'guests' arrived. Right now, however, Misao Makimachi looked torn between annoyance at once again not having her 'Aoshi-sama' to herself and excitement at the possibility of seeing her friend. It was rather cute once you got past the scary amount of energy and Ki she was giving off.
"Misao," the man walking several paces behind called drawing both children's attention despite his soft tone. The boy worked to repress a shudder as his chaperone's icy blue orbs raked him over briefly before his attention turned to the serving girl. "Don't get too excited."
"Yes, Aoshi-sama," she replied sweetly, blushing to the roots of her dark hair. Kenshin honestly had to wonder what the girl saw in him. No matter what the girl told him about her monthly visits, he could only read two things off of the stoic Aoshi Shinomori: cold and colder.
It didn't take long to tune out the idle chatter of the twelve year old - one might say that it was a survival skill if one knew the girl long enough. Instead he was focused on his own worries. Although he was clueless as to why he'd been selected as a front of the Oniwabanshu this month, he hadn't questioned his good fortune. After all, it would give him the chance to see the girl who had saved his life all those years ago. In fact, this would be his first time outside Megumi's him since the woman had taken him in. His measurements were taken for any clothing he might need and the entrepreneur would never stoop so low as to make one of her pupils go food shopping, not even as a punishment. The Silent Dove was large and comfortable, but after three years the place could seem a bit confined.
He'd therefore been looking forward to a change of scenery - no matter how brief - since he'd been told that he was going last week. He'd been distracted enough to earn extra training with his Shishio, but even the extra five hundred bokken swings a night couldn’t dampen his high spirits. He'd meticulously laid out his best kimono so as to not shame his mistress, and had rehearsed his thank you speech countless times. He was ready to tell her how grateful he was for her help and how much he would be looking forward to seeing her again now that he was allowed outdoor privileges.
"Kenshin," Misao lilted in a theatrical whisper, "I've already told you that you might not get to see her at all."
"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy said, working furiously to hide his blush by studying the sunset. A quick glance at his friend showed that he was fooling no one, however. Her eyebrows were arched and the glint in her aquamarine eyes dared him to lie to her again. The boy groaned and sped up, acknowledging defeat. Most of Megumi's pupils had the snobbish-ness of geisha, making them highly unlikely confidants although he was agreeable enough to count most of them as friends. Misao had proven her ability to keep a secret many times over the years as he'd told her everything he could remember about the brave girl he'd only met once.
"You're blushing rather hard for-"
"I give, Mimi," the boy cried, throwing both hands up in defeat and using the codeword she'd given him to show that he was serious. "We're almost there."
Misao stopped teasing immediately. She was sulking, which for her meant that she stayed quiet for ten seconds longer than it took to draw breath for her next sentence. "Look I'm sorry, but you're making me nervous," she whispered, this time lowering and modulating her voice so that their escort wouldn't hear. "Areyn-chan... Well, I'm not sure how well this is going to go for you. She barely talks to me on the level, and I'm the help. I doubt she'll be willing to talk to you at all beyond the formal pleasantries."
The young samurai understood what she meant. He clearly recalled her transformation from sly and capable to humble and defeated, but...
"She wouldn't do that to me. We're the same age, after all."
"You're a year younger and I honestly don't think it'll make a difference to her." His confidence wavered slightly under the weight of her worried smile. "I just don't want you to be too disappointed, Kennie."
"I'll be fine," he nodded with more confidence than he felt as the dojo loomed into view. He suddenly felt very small standing next to such an intimidating building. He couldn't understand it - the place looked no larger than his mistress', yet it exuded a coldness that almost seemed deliberate. The leader the Oniwabanshu stepped around the two children and knocked on the front gate. The boy couldn’t help but notice that the guards looked somewhat nervous and were quick to admit their visitors. The three were ushered into a large room and offered tea while they waited for the master of the house.
"Megumi's picking them a bit young for cover this month," Max said by way of pleasantries, nodding to Kenshin. "She knows I-"
"Megumi-san was a bit concerned after your... enthusiasm with the last pupil she sent," Aoshi said, his voice even colder than usual. "She asked me to convey that her pupils are not to be harmed when they enter this place, or they will no longer be allowed here." The two men stared at each other until the man nodded at the spy.
"Please send her my deepest apologies, Shinomori-san. I meant no disrespect to her or young Tessa-chan. It wounds me deeply that my brother's widow would feel such a threat was necessary to ensure the safety of her geisha. Of course I will be more careful with her girls in the future." His words were said with perfect contrition, but his eyes were as flat and furious as ever.
Aoshi betrayed nothing as he watched the man, though he was disgusted with the man's habit of beating the girls that Megumi sent with him. They were supposed to be a peace offering between the two houses, but last month Aoshi had been forced to stop Maxwell's 'fun' early and take the girl to the doctor. Kenshin was too young to be a proper companion to Megumi's brother-in-law and he was male - a warning that she had all manner of geisha at her disposal to use for the task they both needed accomplished. The man sighed inwardly as the children were dismissed and the real talks began. He honestly could not understand why he'd been given this assignment in the first place. He was the best spy in the Oniwabanshu network even at the age of twenty-six and everyone knew that this assignment was beneath him. But Okina, his mentor, was in debt to the house of Fuushiro and therefore the task had to be borne.
"...I feel that I'm being watched, Shinomori-san. My workers have been taking about a man asking questions that he shouldn't be asking. What do you know about that?"
"Fujita Gorou," Aoshi nodded, coming back to the conversation now that the simpleton in front of him was saying something useful. "I believe that he's the person you're referring to."
"And what are you doing about it?" the simpleton demanded furiously. "I'm not paying you and your spies to sit around and watch this man ruin my business! You need to-"
"You need to watch your tone and remember to whom you are speaking, Fuushiro-san," Aoshi said calmly. "'My spies and I' are among the best at what we do in this new age. We were the best doing the revolution as well," he added for emphasis. "If there is a true threat we will eliminate it."
"O-of course, Shinomori-san," Max said, the simpering tone returning to his voice as he poured a tumbler of brandy. "I can tell that you are already mobilizing your men. Forgive my lack of faith," he finished smoothly, offering the tumbler to the spy.
"You know that I do not drink, Fuushiro-san," Aoshi said. "If there is no more business, then I should be on my way."
"Won't you at least stay for supper?"
"No, thank you. I shall collect the children and be off."
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"Areyn-chan!"
"Hello Mi-umph!" That's as far as Max's niece got in her greeting before she was balled over, bucket of dirty water and all. "Misao! I just cleaned this hallway!"
"Did you really?" a voice that never failed to grate on both of the girl's senses pondered. "It doesn't look as if it was that clean to begin with, Areyn-chan. You will do it again. You will have no supper until it is completely clean."
"Yes, ma'am," the younger of the two servants said dully, obediently picking up the now empty bucket and ignoring her sopping wet clothes as she headed for the well.
"It was my fault, Tomagata-sama," Misao put in humbly. "Please allow me to assist-"
"You will do no such thing," Yumi barked. "I will not have a guest doing the work of that lazy, ungrateful leech. And what have we here," she continued, noticing Kenshin for the first time. "You don't look like our usual guests. What is your name?"
"I am Kenshin Himura," the boy bowed humbly, carefully schooling his features into an affable expression. Inside he was seething: trust Misao to ruin his first chance to see his friend! "I am pleased to meet you."
"You're still in training, aren't you?" the woman smiled, looking the boy over appreciatively. He was shorter than a boy of his seeming age should be, but had the good looks to become a true geisha in time. And that hair... "Well, don't worry. And don't hesitate to come to me with any questions you might have, Ken-san. I was once a geisha myself, you know," she winked before noticing the dark serving girl as she moved back into the room with fresh water. Her nose wrinkled. "Disgusting child."
"Forgive me, Tomagata-sama-"
"I insist you call me 'Yumi-nee-chan'," She nodded, all smiles and sweetness.
"Did you buy your freedom as Megumi-san did?" the boy asked innocently, having heard of the woman's sensitivity to the subject and taking advantage of it.
The woman's smile froze on her face at the question. "No, I did not."
"I see," he said thoughtfully, still acting as if he didn't know what havoc he was wreaking with his words. He was only a geisha in training, after all. "I thank you, Yumi-nee-chan, but Megumi-san's lessons are quite thorough. I do not believe I could handle any extra help at this time."
"You think you're better than me, boy?" Yumi growled shrilly at the veiled insult. "I was the darling of Tokyo's Whispers Teahouse before that haughty, no-good bitch-"
"Please restrain yourself, Yumi-san," the boy said with perfect calm. "I meant no disrespect, that I did not. I was only-"
"Do not think to reprimand me in my own house, boy," Yumi spat. "The life of a geisha is a hard one, make no mistake. Has your vapid mistress even bothered to tell you about the rigors you will face in your chosen profession?"
"My mistress stresses the importance of appropriate timing. I believe that she is planning to wait until I begin my official training in the art of physical love to introduce those concepts. And I would ask you not to insult Megumi-san again."
By now the head of the kitchen staff was turning an alarming shade of purple and looked about ready to slap the boy. Instead she stormed off, kicking Areyn in the side as she passed.
"Wow, that was perfect, Kennie," Misao laughed admiringly once the woman was gone. "No wonder Takani-sama likes you so much."
He gave her a dark look before approaching the other house servant. "Areyn-chan, I-"
"Hello, Himura-sama," she droned as she scrubbed the floor. "I am happy to see that you are well."
"You can call me Kenshin."
The girl was already shaking her head. "Himura-sama is a geisha. I would never insult him by addressing him below his station."
"But I want you to," the boy said, feeling the conversation slipping out of his control. Where had his well prepared speech gone? How had the child on the floor managed to fluster him so easily? He looked over at Misao and cringed at her sympathetic shrug.
"Darcy-san, I-"
"Fuushiro-san," the girl corrected sharply, making him blink. He had only been trying to get her attention. But while he certainly had it now, he had not expected such a reaction from saying her name.
"The night we met you said your name was-"
Areyn had stopped her furious scrubbing and was now on her feet, glaring at him with those intense dark eyes that he remembered so well. "I am a member of the Fuushiro family. Fuushiro-sama is my uncle. Therefore my name must be Areyn Fuushiro; I have no other name."
Kenshin was too dazzled by her Ki to disagree at first. While she did not sound nearly as agitated as her aura said she was, but he was still very concerned. Why did she not want him to use her name? She was the one that had told him it when they met!
"I apologize, Himura-sama," she said, her voice and Ki evening out as she went back to her work. "I am quite proud - and fortunate - to be a member of this household. I gave you a false name the night we met out of fear that we might be discovered before we could reach Takani-sama's teahouse. Please forgive my selfishness."
He knew she was lying. Megumi had taught him how to detect lies as part of his training, but this was different. Her words were dry and smooth - there was no trace in them that she had spoken so vehemently just moments ago. And the explanation made sense when set against the chaos of that night so long ago. But he still knew that she was lying to him as surely as he knew that the sun set in the west. He found that he did not like it when she lied to him.
"I don't believe you, Areyn-chan," he said softly, reveling at the jump in her Ki even if it did not show on her lowered face. "But I will abide by your rules for now. I just wanted to thank you for helping me that night. You saved me, you know? I am forever in your debt, Fuushiro-dono," he finished, happy that she had frozen at the honorific. "I hope that we can be friends."
"Geisha do not fraternize with the help, Himura-sama," the girl said quietly, suddenly seeming to remember why she was on the floor. "Surely Takani-sama has made that clear to you."
He almost laughed at her attempt at deflection, wondering briefly just how many she had repelled with her tone and manner. Before he could lose his nerve, he knelt down on the wet floor and placed a warm hand over her soapy one. "Megumi-san has made a number of things clear to me, the importance of settling debts being one of them." She was staring at him again and Kenshin had to wonder just what he had said to spark the flash of pain that had filled her gaze so briefly before her mask had slid firmly into place once more.
"Himura-sama is much too generous to one so low."
"We shall see," he said, feeling his mind, and his blush, catching up to his tongue and actions. "I'll see you later, Areyn-chan." She said nothing in response, but he did not mind that either, as he was red enough as it was.
"Kenshin, Misao," a deep, cold voice interrupted, causing all three of the children to jump. "It is time to go."
"Of course, Aoshi-sama," Misao grinned, bounding to his side. Kenshin followed quickly, leaving the girl to her scrubbing.
----------
"What did he have to say about the policeman, Aoshi-kun?"
"He will be dealt with, Megumi-san," the man said, his face as expressionless as ever. But Megumi knew him better than that.
"Who is he, Aoshi-kun? You seem anxious about him."
"He's one of the last of the Shinsengumi, Saitou Hajime. He and I fought many battles during the Bakumatsu. If he has come looking to end our rivalries-"
"How would he know that you're involved at all? You are our best kept secret. He has no reason to attack you if he's after my poor Akira's brother," she reasoned, not liking the rising pitch of her voice.
"Your pupil conducted himself quite impressively tonight."
"Don't change the subject."
"He managed to enrage Yumi-san without losing his composure. The mark of a true geisha."
"What was the fat cow offering him?" she asked, her interest piqued at this tidbit of information.
"Private training," the spy responded. "Young Kenshin will do well here, Megumi-san. But he will likely leave you as soon as he is able. It appears that he has taken an interest in Fuushiro-san's niece."
"Oh really?" the woman laughed, her eyes wide. "He pissed off that common whore and desires my favorite person in my stupid brother's dojo? I'll have to send him more often.">
"And the girl's?" Aoshi coughed. He was not overly concerned, but the point needed to be made.
"Don't even bother telling him anything. Max needs you more than I do now, and I prefer my girl's to stay in-house unless I know they're relatively safe. If he wants my girls, he'll have to come here from now on."
"He won't be happy."
"Neither was I when Tessa almost died. It's been a month and she's only now beginning to regain her composure around her clients. What he did to her was completely unnecessary."
The man nodded in agreement, remembering the grisly scene he'd walked in on when the poor girl's screams had become too high pitched and desperate. "He's after his niece as well."
"Anyone can see that," Megumi sighed, waving the information aside. "If the girl is half as smart as I know she is, she'll reject them both. And as politely as always." Again a nod. "Are we finished here?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Will you be staying for dinner?"
"Yes," the man said again, his eyes surveying her thoughtfully.
"An appetizer before the main course then?" She did not wait for a response before reaching for her obi. The man watched her as she removed the intricate knots in the wrap. Megumi knew that he liked to watch her deft fingers work, and therefore made sure to tie the cloth around her waist into the most complicated patterns she could think of when he came to her teahouse.
Aoshi waited until she had removed all of her clothing before walking over to her. 'Typical,' she thought, even as he leaned her back over her desk and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Such was the price she paid monthly for the right to keep her business free of the men who sought to take it from her. It was simple - so much simpler than such an arrangement would have been in her old teahouse in Tokyo.
He entered her as roughly as always, doing little more than pushing his pants down out of the way before taking his monthly fee. The entrepreneur could remember exactly when he'd begun that little habit. Seven years ago the woman had attempted to end this arrangement. He'd let her know in no uncertain terms that only he had the power to end things between them. But there was no pain in his swift thrust as there had been that night; she'd grown used to the treatment and was all the wetter for it.
His eyes held no warmth, nor did they ever - not before the act and certainly never after. He would have her tonight and leave in the morning and never grace any of the rooms below. That was his price for removing her enemies and problems. Megumi had discovered that she liked the arrangement, but not nearly as much as she liked his eyes. She liked the way they burned where ever they touched her. The woman had learned her geisha lessons well and over the years she'd become as cold as ice underneath the cheery banter she presented to the world. It was only in the circle of this man's arms that she came alive. His eyes were as cold as she felt inside and she liked that most of all.
Outside Megumi's door, Sano stood frozen in shock and hatred. He'd forgotten what he'd come to ask his employer about. His fists were clenched hard enough to draw blood as he watched the woman he loved being willingly violated by one of those treacherous Ishin shishi bastards that had betrayed and destroyed the Seikihou Tai halfway through the Bakumatsu. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I'm going to kill you for this Aoshi Shinomori."
Thank you all for reading the latest chapter of my story. Whether you liked it or not, please review. I would like to hear what you guys think of my work so far, as well as any suggestions you may have
For those that are upset by the last scene, I know that Aoshi/Megumi is not a normal pairing, but it suits my purposes.
I am looking for a pre-reader for this story. Anyone interested, please contact me.
Please look forward to the next chapter!