CITRUS GROVE
by SAGE, written in 2002
Disclaimer:
Rurouni Kenshin© is the exclusive property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and associated
parties. The characters and/or story concept are used unofficially as an
expression of fan appreciation for the non-profit purpose of entertainment
only
and do not necessarily represent the viewpoint or opinions of the above listed
entities. Original portions of this story are the copyright of the author.
This
is a fictional story and any similarity with person(s) living or dead is
entirely coincidental.
**********************************************************************************
L-E-M-O-N: sexual content/blatant erotica. (Just in case you missed the summary)
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The Princess and the Pea
Citrus Grove Condominiums
Tokio got home at 5:15 that evening and she went straight into the bathroom.
She
was hot, sweaty, and dusty. She turned on the shower. The Library had been
a
disaster. The lower shelves had been alright, but the upper shelves had been
completely cleared, the books tossed by an unseen hand into piles that looked
eerily like the preparations for a book burning. Tokio shuddered. She stepped
into the shower and let the hot pounding water course over her head and body.
It had been back breaking work just to move down the aisles putting the books
in
stacks for re-shelving, and they had already started to sort out the ones
too
damaged to keep. She felt depressed. Some, like the older botanicals that
had
beautifully subtle thirty-two color separation printing from the 19th century,
would be irreplaceable. They hadn’t been valuable enough to claim any of
the
limited “rare books” space, but they were far too expensive for the library
to
replace even if they could be found for sale.
All day long she had focused on the books, taking her mind off of the morning’s
events but now that she was home she couldn’t avoid thinking about it. She
burned with the knowledge of having stood there, just stood there, while
he had
looked at her nearly naked body. She had carried on a conversation with him!
How
could she have been so oblivious to everything? “Not everything,” her mind
replied honestly, “You weren’t oblivious to his hot look and you liked it.”
She
tried to rationalize it by saying that she had been woken up out of a dream
and
that the person in her dream was then standing before her, “Ah, but why did
you
let him kiss you later?” her traitorous mind questioned. “I don’t know,”
she
replied in anguish, “It was as if he had every right to. What am I going
to
do?”
Getting out of the shower and drying off she decided that she would just
have to
re-establish boundaries tonight! Yes, that’s what she would do. She might
not be
able to explain everything so she just wouldn’t. She would ignore the fact
that
she had flaunted herself in front of him, and she would put the kiss down
to
being thankful for his attempted rescue, “He’s not going to buy that,” her
mind
asserted, “I don’t care,” she went on desperately, and the dreams would stop
if
she had to take sleeping pills! What a sorry state of affairs, she was arguing
with herself. She sighed heavily.
She finished getting dressed. She selected a casual woolen skirt and a high
round collar cashmere sweater set. A tasteful small choker of pearls graced
her
throat and dainty matching earrings dangled from her earlobes. Her pearls
always helped her maintain a more conservative and proper frame of mind.
It was still only 6:30 when there was a knock on the door. She wondered who
would be so early and thought it might be Kaoru, she had promised her friend
that they would talk. She opened the door and it was her next door neighbor,
looking devilishly sexy. He had on black jeans which seemed molded to his
long
legs and narrow waist, and a perennial black t-shirt which left nothing of
his
chest and broad shoulders to the imagination. His shiny silken hair had been
drawn up into a topknot, the bottom of the ponytail just barely gracing his
shoulders, except for a few narrow wisps that were evidently not long enough
to
be contained, and these brushed seductively over his eyes. His mouth had
that
faintly amused grin in place and she wondered if his lips were as soft as
she
remembered from this morning. Finally she forced herself to look into his
eyes,
amber eyes that reflected light like a wolf. She must have stood there too
long
because he said, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
She shook herself, “Yes, yes, come in.” So much for good intentions she thought,
smoothing down her skirt to give herself time to repossess some semblance
of
mind.
Hajime had a chance to look around her living room earlier. The room was
a
mirror image of the woman’s outward persona. Tuxedo furniture in neutrals,
dark
wood bookcases, and three large poster prints of classical baroque paintings
framed and suspended from large ribbons hanging from the molding. They were
done
by the same artist; Artemisia Gentileschi. He had made a mental note of it
earlier. Other pictures were of her family. It unequivocally displayed proper
conduct and taste. Extra folding chairs had been set up around the cherry
wood
coffee table.
“You’re a bit early,” she said, somewhat peeved at this rudeness, “no one
else
is here yet.” She felt caught off guard.
He looked her over, noting the ultra conservative outfit. She couldn’t have
announced her intentions any clearer if she were in full armor, but it wouldn’t
do her any good. “Well, I thought I would come over early and give you a
hand,”
he said casually. Now wasn’t that interesting, she had blushed to the roots
of
her hair.
“Well,” she squeaked, and then cleared her throat, “Well,” that was better,
“I’m just finishing up some food trays,” she gestured to the living room,
“If
you’d care to take a seat I could bring you something to drink.”
“Actually, might I use your restroom,” he asked.
“Um, sure,” she said, indicating the hallway, and then went back to arranging
refreshments in the kitchen.
Hajime went into the hallway and purposely turned into the wrong room. He
did
take a moment to appreciate the difference. If the living areas advertised
‘proper’ then the bedroom whispered ‘seduction’, still neat as a pin but
magnitudes more sensual. The bed was covered in silk, a silk counterpane
and a
dozens of sumptuously clad silk pillows of every fire jewel tone hue. Fabric
covered the walls and fringed silk scarves covered the lampshades. Blood
red was
the predominate color with highlight pinks of every shade and a range of
flaming
oranges. The bed was surrounded by sheer curtains from the ceiling held back
in
large satin ropes with ornate tassels to either side. He smiled at the ropes.
He
could easily imagine Tokio stretched out across that bed, pale cream against
silken flames, her dark hair hanging over the side, wearing nothing but that
choker of pearls.
The colors and patterns suggested a middle-eastern influence. The large painting
over the bed fit the theme of the room culturally but was more spiritually
pure
in context. It was a large piece titled “The Widow’s Mite” by James C.
Christensen. The back of his mind processed that this was a much more modern
work, if on the same ancient theme. He added this to his mental notebook.
Tokio
wasn’t the type of person to have just anything on her walls. Consciously
or
unconsciously she made a statement with everything that surrounded her.
He didn’t know how much time he would have so he moved quickly. Like any
bibliophile, she had book shelves in every room and he found what he was
looking
for. Two shelves double stacked with paperback romance books and mostly bodice
rippers if the covers were anything to go by. Another shelf held the other
section that he was looking for, “self-help” and the contents there were
quite
surprising. Titles like, “Men Who Hate Women, and the Women Who Love Them”,
but
even more surprising was “My Husband is Gay; a Woman’s Survival Guide” and
“When
Husbands Come Out Of The Closet,” and then there was one that actually looked
interesting to him, “Women who Run with Wolves.” Hmmm.
Moving to the side of the bed he pulled the nightstand open and saw “The
Scented
Garden”, and the unabridged adult version of “1001 Arabian Nights.” He was
left
wondering if she had a middle-eastern genie fantasy.
He decided that he’d been here long enough and had just reached the door
when
she saw him from the hallway. “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.
“Wrong turn,” he shrugged, “the apartments are mirrored, your left, my right.”
“Oh, right, I suppose so.” She looked a little bewildered as if she was
still
trying to figure that out. Hajime passed her and closed the bathroom door.
He
could hear her go into the bedroom and then back to the kitchen.
Hajime opened the medical cabinet; no birth control pills and her bedside
table
had contained no condoms, not that he was surprised by the lack, it just
reaffirmed his belief in her celibate status. The books in her bathroom were
on
aromatherapy and home spa treatments. There were candles next to her bathtub.
He
envisioned her in the tub full of bubble bath with the lights off and candles
burning. She was a sensual creature and she wanted fulfillment, she just
didn’t
know how to get there.
He heard voices and he opened the door.
“I know I should be satisfied with his friendship, but I’m not. Does that
make
me a bad person?” The speaker was Kaoru; she was sitting at the kitchen’s
breakfast bar.
“Of course not,” said Tokio, “but maybe he’s just not ready for a
relationship?”
“I swear he keeps sending me signals but he never does anything. I don’t
want
to seem too forward but I don’t know what else to do. You don’t know what
it’s
like to have a man so close to you invade your dreams.”
Tokio had been sipping some green tea when Kaoru made this statement. She
was
fortunate enough to spew and cough ungracefully into the kitchen sink.
Hajime smiled from the hallway.
“Are you okay?” said Kaoru.
Tokio nodded and waved her to continue, not trusting her esophagus at the
moment.
Kaoru still looked concerned but continued, “Did you know that I bought this
apartment because of him? How sad is that! We all belong to the same martial
arts club, that’s how we met. I’ll never forget the day he walked in. I was
sparing with a younger student and when I saw him I literally saw stars,”
she
smiled, “Of course that’s because I forgot all about my sparing partner and
got
clobbered. The boy was inconsolable thinking he’d really hurt me, I was nearly
passed out on the floor, and there was this stranger with long red-hair and
soft
pink lips, looking down at me with violet eyes filled with compassion.” She
sighed loudly, “He was so beautiful I was lost,” she shrugged fatalistically,
“So when I couldn’t get any closer to him and this apartment became available
I
jumped at the chance to buy it. We’ve drawn so close to each other that now
it’s
painful not to be with him and its torture not to be closer. I think I’m
going
crazy.”
“And here I always thought you bought the condo because of the huge beautiful
dojo downstairs.”
“He built that you know, and it was a bonus but that wasn’t the real reason.”
Kaoru said sheepishly. “Tokio, what am I going to do?”
Tokio didn’t know what to say, her own problems certainly didn’t qualify
her to
be giving out advice to Kaoru, just the opposite.
“You must force him to act,” said a deep voice from the hallway entrance.
Kaoru took a loud impossibly deep gasp, “Detective Saitou?” Her face turned
scarlet, and Tokio was a little concerned.
Hajime came up next to her. He nonchalantly leaned up against a wall next
to the
breakfast bar.
“Assuming that you are talking about Kenshin Himura, you must give him what
he
cannot give himself.”
“Detective Saitou, I don’t think…” started Tokio.
“Wait a minute, Tok, I want to hear what he has to say,” turning to Hajime
she
said, “What makes you think you know what he wants?” the brunette’s eyes
flashed, “You’re not even friends; as a matter of fact you act a lot like
enemies sometimes.”
“You’ve never heard that familiarity breeds contempt? Well, let’s just say
that
Himura and I are familiar. We belong to the same clubs and we are… for lack
of a
better word, competitive. Did you know that he also use to be a Police
Detective?”
Kaoru nodded, but Tokio was shaking her head. She hadn’t known.
“Yes, Kaoru said, “he told me that he had to give it up. He couldn’t bring
himself to hold a gun long enough to even qualify for a desk job he said.”
“That’s right, did he tell you why?”
“No,” she looked down, “and I didn’t have the heart to ask him.”
“Himura was working undercover. He killed a gang member in self-defense
and
ironically fell in love with the man’s woman.”
Kaoru’s eyes were wide and her mouth made a tiny soundless “o”. Kenshin in
love?
Hajime continued, “The woman was accidentally killed by Himura when she
interceded in the gang’s plan to kill him – his cover had been blown.”
“Poor Kenshin,” said Kaoru softly. No wonder he didn’t want to get involved
with someone else. He was still in love with her. Kaoru thought her heart
was
breaking.
“It was a long time ago and he ceased to live,” Hajime said derisively,
giving
no one any doubts as to what he thought of this cowardly behavior, “until
you
came along. I thought for sure that you would be the one to bring him out
of
that darkness of his but he still has one foot remaining in the past.”
“I do thank you Detective for telling me. I’ll … I’ll stop pestering him.
I
understand now.”
“Idiot girl,” he said, but it was softly delivered. “Do you think a living
person has any business wallowing in a grave? If they do that long enough
I
guarantee you it will become their own.”
“But…I don’t know what to do? I’m still in the same place I was before.”
“Not exactly. Knowledge is power,” he said to Kaoru but he was looking at
Tokio, “and a woman’s sensuality is her greatest gift and weapon. Men crave
it
like water in the desert. Kenshin is not immune. His greatest need is atonement.
People often feel that they have to accept blame for things they never did
and
never had control over.” Hajime spoke hypnotically and Tokio couldn’t take
her
eyes off him. “If you were to succeed in proving to him that you loved him
then
he would have to realize that even if he didn’t feel himself forgiven enough
to
be worthy you did, and it would be enough to set him free.”
Just then there was a knock at the door, breaking the spell, and Tokio let
Aoshi
and Sano in. They took off their shoes and went to find a seat in the living
room. As attuned to Tokio as Hajime was at the moment he could immediately
tell
that there was a strong undercurrent of unease between Tokio and the newly
arrived couple. Another knock and Kenshin came in. Kaoru’s blush was renewed.
Kenshin saw it but couldn’t deduce a cause. The only person missing from
their
small unit was a medical doctor on sabbatical in Europe.
They all took seats in the living room while Tokio went to the kitchen to
bring
out refreshments; Hajime got up to help. In the kitchen he touched her hand
resting on the counter, and a single finger lightly traced up her arm to
the
sensitive crook of her elbow. She stopped breathing. “Let me help you,”
he
purred in her ear, the vibrations of his voice setting off dormant spirals
of
pleasure deep within her.
She nodded ever so imperceptibly.
Hajime put his hand on her far side, at the waist; he leaned slightly into
her,
letting her feel his desire for her. He gritted his teeth against her reflexive
rub against his hardness. He saw her nipples become hard, puckering against
the
rasp of her thin bra and standing out pertly beneath the cashmere sweater
that
embraced her modest curves. His hand slid up her waist to cup the outside
of
her breast lightly, ever so lightly. It was like her dream; she could feel
her
breast swelling to his touch. Her head tilted back and her eyes began to
flicker
closed.
“Careful,” he said lowly into her ear, “they can’t see me but they can see
you.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes blinked open. Aoshi was staring straight
at
her, his face impassive. Her heart beat fast. He was the only one that was
looking at what had taken place, or at least what her reaction was to what
had
taken place. The breakfast bar was too tall for him to have seen anything
else.
Hajime reached out and took the tray from her nerveless fingers and left
the
kitchen.
…she breathed. Blood rushed to her face. Still Aoshi didn’t take his eyes
off
her. She turned around and stepped behind a wall pillar at the end of the
breakfast bar. She hugged herself tightly. What was Hajime doing to her?
How
could her resolve be swept away with a single touch? After several deep breaths
she was able to turn back around and take the other tray out to the living
room,
but she kept her eyes lowered, not meeting anyone’s eyes, especially Aoshi’s.
After everyone had drinks and refreshments set before them she sat in a folded
chair, her ankles crossed demurely beneath her seat. Her chair was nearest
the
kitchen, in case someone should need something. Hajime had taken up a spot
straight across the room from her and at first she felt relieved until she
realized that she couldn’t look up with out seeing him. He had sat down but
then
got back up to retrieve something from his pocket or waistband. He slouched
back
into the chair, tucking one foot up on the cushion and leaning on the armrest.
He looked like a hungry Raja waiting for his entertainment.
He had something in his hand, something shiny and metallic. With a small
inaudible gasp she realized what she was seeing…his handcuffs. He rubbed
them
absently up and down against his forearm, as if to relieve a mild itch. Tokio
was hypnotized. Her eyes flashed to his involuntarily. He smiled wickedly.
He
knew what she was thinking and he encouraged it. Let her believe he would
use
them, time enough later for lessons in sophistication, for now they served
their
purpose. He and she played a game, and it was in the mind that the game was
won.
Tokio tore her gaze away but her new direction was no more soothing. Aoshi
sat
in the corner of the couch, his arm along the back edge, knees crossed in
casual
elegance. Sano was leaning up next to his side, feet in white socks, tucked
up
beneath him on the sofa cushion and his young athletic arm resting along
Aoshi’s
leg, his strong hand negligently making small circles on Aoshi’s knee. They
projected the essence of lovers at ease with each other in everyway. Tokio
felt
a burning envy and looked away from this scene too.
The last couple was Kenshin and Kaoru. Kaoru had taken the other upholstered
chair and Kenshin had pulled his folding chair up right next to her. Just
the
opposite of Aoshi and Sano, they didn’t touch each other at all. Nevertheless,
one got the feeling that they belong together. Kenshin selected a plate from
the
table and sweetly offered the hors d’oeuvres to Kaoru. Kenshin was companion
and
bodyguard; he would make sure that no one ever hurt Kaoru. Tokio’s eyes felt
moist. She looked back to the only place in the room that offered even a
hint of
solace. Him.
He seemed to be threat and safety all at once, but what if she was wrong?
She
had been wrong before. If he should prove otherwise she would be lost forever.
Hajime immediately knew that Tokio had reached a different level of awareness.
There was a shimmer in her eyes, an exposure that vibrated to his core. His
mind
rocked in ecstasy. There was no new level of trust reached without exploring
the
vulnerability of that level. Each vista held a matched set, two sides to
the
same coin. His eyes held hers, “Give it up to me little Goddess.”
“So are we agreed that we should heat the swimming pool a month earlier?”
Kenshin was asking politely.
Everyone seemed in agreement and Tokio went along, not having heard a single
word of discussion. She barely managed to participate more in the mundane
discussions at hand. The core of the meeting lasted a little over an hour,
the
social aspect not quite that long again. Everyone in the room except herself
belonged to the same martial arts club, so the discussion tended to drift
in
that direction. They, and several other members, met in the dojo downstairs
twice a week, although the condo residents tended to practice for some amount
of
time almost each day. Tokio used the workout and weight section that was
off to
one side and she liked to watch them practice. It was a beautiful art, she
thought.
As the group started to make preparations to leave she gathered up some glasses.
Sano reached out and took a few from her overburdened hands; she started
badly
at his touch. He pretended not to notice and made his way to the kitchen
with
her behind him. She felt so bad. She didn’t mean to offend him or Aoshi but
she
knew she had. She couldn’t help it.
Aoshi was talking quietly with Hajime. They had both noticed her reaction.
“You’ll need to walk lightly with that one,” said Aoshi.
“Once I figure out what’s going on,” said Hajime.
“Sano and I are going for a drink down at the Puddle-duck lounge. Why don’t
you
meet us there? We should talk.”
“Alright,” said Hajime, and Aoshi went to collect his lover and make their
goodbyes to the hostess.
All of a sudden everyone was gone except for the two of them. She took a
long
time coming out of the kitchen. Part of her hoped that he would be already
gone
and she could forego anymore disturbing conversations with him, but another
part
of her knew he would never leave without seeing her alone, and when she finally
came out of the kitchen he was patiently leaning against the front door waiting
for her.
He stood up and walked over to her. She took a step back until she felt the
wall
at her back. He braced one hand on the wall next to her head but made no
move to
touch her. “We’ll date,” he said simply. There was no doubt in his mind that
they would begin seeing each other. She was shaking her head but he continued,
“There is an international food festival going on this weekend at the City
Center, I’ll take you.”
“I can’t…I can’t do this. You don’t understand…”
“You can, and you’re right, I don’t understand, not fully, not yet, but
I
will.” His voice was solid and sure. His other hand went behind her head
and he
kissed her deeply, his tongue taking possession of her mouth, drawing her
in.
Her hands flattened against the wall seeking support. She felt his hand on
her
breast, felt him pluck up her sweater a little so that he could lower her
bra
cup beneath her without ever reaching under her clothing. He teased her erect
nipple through her sweater, the soft cashmere rubbing across the sensitive
tip
until she moaned into his mouth. “You’re wound so tight now that if you don’t
find release soon you’ll fracture.” He ran his lips across her hair and down
to
her ear, “I’m not going to let that happen,” he whispered.
He pulled her bra cup back up in place and let his hand rest there for a
moment,
not caressing, simply holding her, binding her, as if to transfer a measure
of
secure feelings, and strangely that’s what she felt.
He gave her a swift kiss on the mouth and said, “This weekend,” and he was
out
the door.
Tokio just lay against the wall, thankful for its solid support, but his
voice
came back through the door making her jump.
“Lock it.”
He heard the lock thrown quickly, and laughed.
She heard him move off down the hallway.
***
Hajime caught up with Aoshi and Sano down at the Puddle-duck Lounge. It lay
a
bit outside the international district but it had a nice view of the city
and
the bay, although at this time of night the water was just a massive pitch
black
stretch. The couple had a booth in the back and were necking. Well, Sano
was
trying to neck and Aoshi was looking more or less pokerfaced as usual, no,
there
was some hit of mild amusement about the lips due to Sano’s efforts. “I
told
you we had company coming.”
Hajime took a seat on the opposite side of the booth. “Well, hel-lo Detective
Saitou,” drawled Sano irreverently.
Hajime cast him a dismissive glance and took out a pack of cigarettes and
lit
one.
“Must you?” said Sano with disgust.
“No, that’s the point,” said Hajime cryptically.
At that point a waiter had come over to get his order. He decided on an ultra
dry Grey Goose martini, shaken, no garnish.
“Why don’t you tell them you just want a shot of vodka and get it over with,”
said Sano, sipping his own lemon drop.
“Because there is a difference I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” said
Hajime as if speaking to a child.
Sano frowned; he hated it when Saitou copped that superior attitude. It just
made him what to punch him in the face.
Aoshi moved a hand that was under the table to the upper inside of Sano’s
thigh
and grabbed a pinch of flesh firmly but not painfully, but the promise was
there. “Do try to be polite Sano. Hajime is here at my request.”
Sano felt a leap of desire in his loins. Aoshi could always do that to him.
Aoshi’s hand anywhere near Sano’s cock and he was instantly hard. “Yeah,
alright.”
The waiter came back with Hajime’s drink. It was clear and cold as ice water.
He
took a sip, and just as smooth.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
“Our neighbor,” said Aoshi. “Normally I wouldn’t think of interfering but,”
he
paused, looking at Sano’s uncharacteristically wooden face at the mention
of the
woman, “Tokio’s problems have hit us both a little close to home. We care
about
her and don’t want to see her hurt again.”
“What exactly is your involvement with Tokio?”
“We are acquainted with her ex-husband,” said Aoshi.
“He’s an ass,” spit out Sano. Aoshi let the outburst slide. Sano had been
hurt
more by association that he had. Sano really liked Tokio.
“How acquainted?” said Hajime.
Aoshi said, “A few years ago we ran into him in some clubs, but then we didn’t
see him much after that. We heard that he really went for the places we didn’t.
Some places are sane and some places are insane, and we don’t go for the
insane
if you know what I mean.”
He continued, “There are bad elements in every society, as a police officer
I’m
sure you’re well aware. In ours there exists a type of person who will
consciously involve a straight woman into a relationship for protection of
cover
or to provide them with children. Sometimes these people truly come to love
their spouses, and except for physical desire they care for the other party.
In
some of these cases the gay spouse will find their physical release elsewhere,
hopefully safely. Unfortunately, sometimes the gay partner does not value
his
spouse and inflicts harm on that person out of frustration or anger.”
“You left one out,” said Sano with mild accusation.
Aoshi face never had a ripple of emotion. As he rubbed a hand across Sano’s
tense shoulders, he said, “Or out of pleasure.” Sano’s mouth tightened. Aoshi’s
fingers stroked the hair that curled around Sano’s ears. It was getting long
again.
“Are you telling me that Tokio had an abusive gay husband, Dr. Shinomori?”
Hajime pinned him with a look.
“I still prefer not being called doctor outside of the office,” Aoshi had
a
look of distaste on his face. “People have a nasty habit of telling me their
medical life history before I have a chance to tell them that I’m more equipped
to handle a multiple personality disorder. And yes, there is a possibility
that
Tokio’s husband was abusive, however, you’re the detective. You should be
able
to find that out.”
“I’ve got news for you,” Hajime said, “the county frowns on officers using
privilege to conduct personal investigations.”
“Sano, I’d like to listen to some music.” Aoshi held out a five dollar bill.
“Don’t look at me like that; think of it as doctor client confidence.”
Sano rolled his eyes, snatched up the fiver with a sigh, and strutted over
to
the music machine.
“What do you see in him,” said Hajime. He wondered. One was a brash, uncouth,
kick boxing instructor, and the other was a refined, disciplined, doctor
of
psychology.
Aoshi’s gaze followed the young man across the floor. “You mean besides youth,
beauty, and incredible stamina?” he said deadpan
Hajime smiled wickedly, “An embarrassment of riches.”
Aoshi looked at Hajime, “Innocence...”
Hajime cast him a dubious look.
Aoshi did smile a little then, “He’s playful but he’s still innocent, or
perhaps
you’d prefer saying a purity of spirit. He’s pure and honest. He also has,
for
the most part, a lovely undamaged psyche, for a psycho-analyst that’s a lot
like
finding the Holy Grail.”
Aoshi took a sip of his drink and said, “What if you had reason to believe
that
a crime was being committed?”
Hajime looked at him plainly, “Then I would be able to avail myself of any
information necessary, more or less. Why?”
“I suggest that you study Tokio’s work commute.”
“She works right across the street.”
“I didn’t say it would be difficult.”
“Shinomori…”
“Hajime, if you watch her for a week and nothing happens you can forget
it, but
I believe that you will see something, something that could potentially cause
Sano to be homicidal if he saw it and put two and two together.”
“And what am I likely to see?”
Aoshi paused, “Did you ever hear the story of the Princess and the Pea?”
“Yes,” said Hajime wondering where this was going. Past dealings with Aoshi
always led deep.
“A young women whose only value is her delicacy, and how do they determine
if
she is worthy for the prince? They build up layers and layers and then try
to
bruise her through them. If she is delicate enough to feel the abuse then
she is
worthy of the prince’s attention.”
Hajime didn’t say a word.
Aoshi sighed lightly, “I think you will see an ex-husband harassing and stalking
an ex-abused wife for the sheer pleasure it brings him.”
“He dares!” Hajime hissed quietly.
“Why not? Who’s to stop him? She won’t tell anyone otherwise she would have
gotten a restraining order already, but the Police can…”
“…intercede in filing charges in domestic disputes but only when there is
a
clear indication of abuse.”
“Alright then we’ll just think of something else. You understand that Tokio
is
not my patient, but if we were to assume for the moment that this hypothetical
abuse had in taken place, your particular skills might be a great help in
getting her to overcome her fears, which I guarantee you she has.”
“You speak of The Art”, said Hajime in a low voice. The two men shared a
look.
“It’s not beyond the skill of a Master,” said Aoshi.
Hajime didn’t say anything
“Perhaps I was mistaken about your level of commitment.”
“There is no mistake.”
“Good.” Aoshi looked over to the bar where Sano was engaged in arm wrestling
and grimaced. “I need to go before the bartender gets mad at Sano again.”
Hajime briefly wondered what the story was there, but Aoshi said, “Is there
room
on the roster this month for a demonstration?”
“It is the student’s pleasure to bow before a Master.”
“Well if you could find a day that doesn’t interfere too much with planned
activities I would appreciate it.”
Hajime nodded, “Consider it done.”
Aoshi went to collect a disappointed Sano and they left.
Hajime thought about everything that was said, ran over his mental list of
items
to investigate, and finished his drink. The walk home helped solidify in
his
mind his course of action. From the moment she cried out his name in her
sleep
she was his, and he protected what was his!
***
The Guilty Party (author’s notes)
Oh boy, do I have to apologize for the length of this chapter? I did warn
you
there was plot so don’t blame me too much. It can’t be all hot, horny, sex…well
it could be but all prose and no plot makes SAGE a very dull writer ;-),
and
where there is plot there is some exposition. I strive for seamless exposition
but I’m afraid I may have leaned on Aoshi a little too much here, maybe not.
Oh
well, he has big beautiful shoulders, he can take the burden. ;-)
So, our currently spotlighted couple has turned up the heat a tad. Hajime
may
not have told her the rules to the game yet, but she’s, um…prepped; and Houston,
do they have a problem or what! *SAGE smacks herself, this is supposed to
be a
lemon… RIGHT!* Okay, okay, things get pretty steamy in the next chapter.
We see a little more of Aoshi and Sano, they make a sensible pairing I think,
a
nice play of strengths and weaknesses which we will see more of later.
We also find out what is up between Kenshin and Kaoru. A little bit of a
set up
for the serve there.
If you make no assumptions about either the sex or the plot I don’t think
you’ll
be disappointed. If you are I’ll refund your money, no questions asked. *SAGE
smacks herself, this is non-profit… RIGHT!*
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