Standard Disclaimer: Unfortunately I neither own Rurouni Kenshin nor the characters but at least the story is mine Guess three times whom I'd like to mention now. Exactly, like always my thanks go to Mara and Priya-chan! I don't know what I would do without you two. =^_^= Chapter 6: A wolf and his women The sun was already deep in the sky when the door to the huge house suddenly opened. Misao, who lied fully dressed on her futon and stared at the ceilings, looked up sharply. She had been alone for an entire sleepless night and a great part of a completely restless day, and her mood was correspondingly bad. "About time you got back," she hissed at Saitou immediately after he entered the room. "If you had made me hang around here much longer, I would have gone mad!" Saitou pushed away from the door and moved over to her side. "Nice to see you, too, Weasel" he murmured dryly. "VERY funny!" Misao sputtered, trying to recapture her frustration and anger. The house that had felt so empty and frightening around her all night and day, now seemed full of life, as if its center was restored - and this did not please her at all! "Where the hell were you?" "I was unavoidably delayed," he dismissed. "That's it?" Misao asked incredulously. She was waiting for him for half an eternity and he was unavoidably delayed?! Stupid Shinsengumi bastard! Not liking the helpless feeling of lying on her back while arguing with the sharp eyed cop, she forced herself into a sitting position. "What if something important had happened during your absence? Have you ever thought of that possibility?!" Saitou flicked her a slightly contemptuous glance. "You wouldn't be working for me if you couldn't take care of yourself." She looked stunned. Had this been a ...a compliment?! Coming from the psycho wolf? God, it was really not her day. Saitou leaned himself against the wall, taking a deep draw on his cigarette. "I had to investigate a bit on my own and you would have only been in my way." "I WOULD HAVE BEEN WHAT?!" He barely looked at her. "I am able to hear well enough, Weasel, so please don't torment my ears with your childish out-burst." Her eyes began to burn dangerously. One day she would kill him for his superior attitude and his sarcasm, that was for sure, but now she was curious about the reason behind his 'unavoidable delay'. "Have you found out anything about this Phantom?" she finally asked, trying not to show him her curiosity. "Nanjo," he replied shortly. "His name is Nanjo Katsuhiko." "Nanjo? How do you know?" she demanded, still pretending indifference. Eying her defiant pose with a smirk, Saitou emitted a cloud of smoke. "Your story about the incident in the Boshin Wars gave me the idea. After investigating the entire night, I finally heard about a man with a scar on his forehead arriving at Osaka Harbour a few nights ago, who sent several men to search for my whereabouts. No doubt that it was Nanjo." "Let me guess, it was you who gave him this scar?" Misao snorted loudly. "And now after fifteen years he comes back to Japan wanting revenge for it? What an idiot!" "For once I agree with you." Saitou shook his head in mocked disapproval. "Nanjo had always been a moron but the last few years have obviously affected the rest of his underdeveloped brain." Barely able to suppress laughter at this, Misao stood up and began to walk up and down in front of the sharp-eyed cop. "But why the hell is he so obsessed with you? I mean you normally don't plan to take over a whole country just to get your revenge at a single man!" This time it was Saitou who snorted. "Gratefully enough I never understood the moron's way of thinking. But already back in the Bakumatsu he was obsessed with the weird idea of becoming my clone. Okita-kun always considered this obsession the reason he turned traitor." "Is he any good as a swordsman?" Saitou's eyes narrowed as he considered the question. "He had no natural talent but since he practiced day and night, he developed some skill. Nevertheless, he is an idiot." "If you say so," the girl muttered sarcastically. Saitou gave her a slightly amused look. "Didn't your keepers ever teach you to shut up when adults talk, Weasel?" When he got no response but a dark look, he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, nevertheless he turned against us and the rest is history." "You fought him during the Boshin Wars and gave him that scar, but since you didn't get the chance to kill him, he flew the country," Misao summarized from Hashimoto"s story and the little pieces of information she got from Saitou. "Clever, Weasel," he congratulated her with an expression of wry amusement. Then he shook his head in disapproval. "Nanjo was the vainest creature I have ever met in my life and therefore nearly had a nervous breakdown because of the scratch on his forehead. One I gave him during our sparring. He had never been worthy of becoming a miburo." "As if that's such a compliment," the girl shot in. Now that her curiosity was satisfied, she remembered her earlier anger again. The bastard didn't think that he could make her wait for such a goddamn time and get away that easily, did he? "I mean who would actually WANT to work together with the likes of you?! That would take real masochists! I'll never understand how you found a wife that can endure you!" Saitou lifted the burning cigarette to his thin lips. "Perhaps you lack imagination." But she wasn't hearing him any more. His wife! What if... "Saitou," she began hastily. "What if he finds out about the whereabouts of Tokio-san? If this man is as bad as you say, he might...oh my god, you must warn her!" Completely at ease, Saitou settled back. "I don't think so." That stopped her short. "Huh?" His amber eyes looked into hers with merciless intensity. "Well, I honestly doubt that Nanjo would be able to harm a woman who has been buried for over a year." Misao felt like she was hit by a ton of bricks. Unbelievingly she stared at him, but his expression spoke of complete honesty - and of equal coldness. Tokio...was dead? Staring helplessly into his cold amber eyes, she had no clue what to say. Hell, what COULD anyone possible say to a husband that had lost his wife? "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "Really, I'm so sorry." Saitou smirked. "I'll savor this knowledge." "I did not mean it like..." She made an awkward attempt to come closer to the wolf but stopped when she saw the look on his face. "In case you haven't realized it by now, let me be the first to tell you that you're really untalented at this," he said dryly. Eying her ironically, he took a drag on his cigarette. "I hope you have satisfied your perverse sense of duty now so we can go on with our work." "But I...well I...I mean I am..." He just rolled his eyes. "Weasel, stop stuttering on my account. No words of you can change the state of her being dead - even if they were halfway articulated." Misao stood stunned. "But..." "But what?" Coolly he raised a brow. "Please don't tell me that you still want to give me a lame bit of advice about how time heals all wounds." The girl slowly became aware that her fingernails were digging into the soft skin of her palms. His own wife had died and Saitou spoke about it as if it didn't matter at all? Although she had always known the wolf as a ruthless and harsh man, she would never have expected such cruelty from him. And suddenly an idea occurred to her, an idea so terrible that her chest seemed to explode any moment. Maybe Aoshi would speak about her in the same manner if she died. Her face felt like it was burning while her heart began to pound painfully against her chest. Up to this point she had always thought that behind his cool facade Aoshi was secretly craving for love and forgiveness but looking in Saitou's unconcerned, cold eyes, the painful thought occurred to her that she maybe couldn't get through to him was simply because he didn't love her. He didn't love her. With his usual indifference, Saitou sat down opposite to her. "Now that we've cleared this up, we can go on with the..." suddenly he stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What's the matter?" Tears shimmered in the girl's wide ocean-colored eyes. "You heartless bastard," she whispered before running out of the room. ************************************************************************ "KANSATSU TOKBIKUNAI!!!" With a loud cry she flared five of her kunais against the wall of the house, barely aiming but more expressing her anger and her frustration with this training. She had already done so for two hours but still felt no relief at all. He did not love her. He did not love her. The thoughts were running on and on like nasty children's teasing. With another yell, more compatible to a sob than to a battle cry, she began to train her kicks and punches more forcefully. This is for your stupidity! She aimed a punch at the air, at images only she could see. This is for binding yourself to man who will never return your feelings! Again she reached out for her kunai. This is for your foolish hopes! She was so engulfed in the rhythm of it that it took her several minutes to realize that someone was right behind her. Her eyes narrowed as she turned around. Saitou was just standing at the entrance of the house watching her, the faint beginnings of a smirk on his thin lips. Pretending to be busy with her training, she tried to ignore him but after about ten seconds she lost control. "Don't you have something to do?" she barked, "Like howling at the moon or something?" His smirk widened. "Actually I thought we could spend some quality time together," he replied with mock earnestness and leaned back on the wall. "What a sweet idea!" Misao hissed and began to gather her kunais, wondering what the hell Saitou was up to. He was just standing there very calmly, his angular features set in an ironic smirk. "Are you interested in hearing what I've noticed about you?" he finally asked, his eyes still set on her. "That I can't stand the sight of you perhaps?" Saitou took a deep draw on his cigarette before sending it to the floor, a movement at which the girl raised her head in anticipation. She knew him well enough by now to tell that this gesture always preceded an insult he was particularly proud of having come up with. "Despite your outer appearance, you are still a child who hides its insecurity behind a wall of false bravado." "Oh, and wanna know what I found out about you, Saitou?" she retorted. "You're a heartless bastard and that your wife should actually be glad that she isn't forced to deal with you anymore!" To her surprise, this unforgivable remark prompted only low silken laughter. "What's so damn funny?!" "You." His cold amber eyes laid with distressing intensity on her. "You are not only totally childish, immature and incapable to control yourself, but also unbelievably stupid." Finally anger overwhelmed her. Stepping towards the wolf, who was still waiting with that satisfied smile on his lips, she clenched her right fist in frustration, but he just danced to the side when she reached him, easily avoiding the clumsy attack. "The first thing you should have been taught when learning how to fight is to watch your adversary and find his weak point," he told her with complete ease. "You must train more, Weasel, or else every idiot will be able to defeat you." A little smirk formed itself on Saitou's lips. Her weak point was far too easy to spot; even a complete idiot like Nanjo would be able to find it. If he wanted to bring his mission to a smooth end, he would have to teach her some lessons in life, it seemed. Misao pressed her lips together and stared at some imaginary point behind him, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. Even as an Omnitsu she was a failure! "Why don't you simply leave me in peace?!" "Since I don't believe that Nanjo will take into consideration whether you are reveling in self-pity or not, I somehow have to talk sense into your stubborn head," he explained in that same calm voice. As she tried to lash out, his right hand closed upon her throat before she had the opportunity to react. Yes, time for some lessons. "And since words or defeat aren't enough to do so, I guess I will have to try other means." Misao's eyes widened. "What the hell-" A hard mouth muffled her exclamation and sealed their lips together. The next thing she knew was that the world was spinning and she was encircled in arms like bands of steel, feeling the pressure of a hard chest beneath her cheek. Terrified she drove her left knee up, aiming for his groin, but there was no strength in the blow and he easily avoided it. Panic, refusal and denial washed over her, but even so she felt her body melting into his embrace and it was only the support of his arms that kept her standing. If only it was Aoshi who was holding her... She felt tears come to her eyes, and in a last desperate attempt, she lashed out and slapped him on the face. He didn't even feel for the bruise but continued to stare at her with those icy, pitiless golden eyes. She couldn't help it, but she felt sobs rising up her throat. "Yes," she heard his voice. "That's your weak spot. I honestly don't care for your personal problems but since you are of absolutely no use to me in this whiny state, we are going to have a little talk about your affectations concerning this matter." Feeling an incurable mixture of shame, anger and bitterness, she cried at him in a hoarse, broken voice. "Damn you, Miburo Bastard! You want to hear about my problem? Well, you and Aoshi-sama, you're both incapable of any human emotion and I'm sick of it! Do you even know how it is to care deeply for someone who simply doesn't love you back? Do you have the slightest idea how that feels? For you I'm just a little child but you know what? I give up, I..." Her voice faltered as sobs overwhelmed her. He didn't love her, he didn't love her, the nasty children's teasing started again. When she could speak again, she didn't even feel the tears run down her face. "I really mean it, Saitou," she whispered. "I realized it when you spoke about your wife's death. Aoshi would react exactly the same way if I died, but yet I was naive enough to think..." She closed her eyes. "All I ever do is trouble to him." The sound of her voice faded into silence as she tried to control her ragged breathing. It was done. She had said it out loud. He did not love her. He never would. Saitou looked blankly at her before he sighed resigned. "I won't tell you this twice, so don't waste my time and listen, Makimachi." Noting the tense line of her chin, a small smirk appeared on his thin lips. "You think that your icicle doesn't care for you but did you know that he only agreed to come back to the Aoiya because Himura told him about your tears for him? Or that he didn't commit suicide back with that black-dressed clown of Yukishiro Enishi's group, because he wanted to return to you in one piece?" She stared at him, not comprehending anything at all. Was he saying that Aoshi cared for her after all? That he didn't reject her completely? No. No, he was wrong. He didn't understand. The coldness Aoshi showed towards her, the denial in his eyes whenever she approached him, the way he didn't let her near, that was no way of hiding love. But then he did come back, didn't he? And he hadn't committed suicide with Gein, had he? Her whole body was shaking, as if fevered. Could it be? Could it really be? While eying her intently, Saitou began to search for a new cigarette in his pockets, adding in that same quiet voice, "Don't believe that I tell you this because I feel pity for you. Like I said before, I just cannot tolerate that somebody working for me loses himself in self-pity." If the whole situation had not been so very surreal, Misao would have smiled at that statement - it was just too typical of the cop. But her head was still spinning and she could feel her lips bruised from his rough kiss. Staring helplessly at him, she felt her cheeks blushing, finally realizing what they had been doing moments ago. Why had he... "Saitou?" she asked shyly. "Would you...would you tell me something about your wife? Please?" He eyed her sharply for a moment, then he sighed with a quiet air of exasperation. "If you insist." "What...what was she like?" He thought about it for a minute. "Beautiful," he finally answered, his bitter golden eyes focused on the sky. "I have never met another woman as beautiful as her." But then he shook his head in denial, before turning to her with hard intensity. "But, then, her beauty had never served her well." "Hm?" Sitting down beside her on the steps, he took a deep drag on his cigarette. "Tokio had never been an energetic, lively person like you. I suppose that she had already been crucially damaged long before we were married by the Bakufu, but although I tried, I never found out what happened to her back then." She looked at him with widened eyes. "Why didn't you simply ask her?" He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "We all have our pain and bitterness, and silly questions won't change it. Besides, we never were what you would call a happy couple. No matter what I did, if I bought her beautiful garments, if I hurt her, or if I left her for months, she would not respond to me in any way, so I eventually stopped trying." For a moment he looked absent-minded, as if the bare horizon revealed more to him than it did to the girl, as if he saw something in the clouds that Misao missed. Then he stood up. "And now we should go back to our work since Nanjo won't stop out of pity for our personal problems." Not bothering to turn around, he added, "And about that little inconvenience. I hope you won't begin to act like a stupid teenage girl because over it. It was just the only possible way to make you listen to me for once." For one moment Misao stared stunned at his muscular back. Her first kiss, a LITTLE INCONVENIENCE?! Cursing at him loudly, she began to hurry after him, mayhem and murder in her eyes. That insufferable, INSUFFERABLE man! ************************************************************************ Pretty. That was Nanjo's first impression of the girl. He had headed to this place immediately after learning about Saitou's location, not wanting to know what had been told to him. But here it was, the proof: Saitou Hajime, once the admired captain of the Shinsengumi's third unit, the feared wolf of Mibu who would reach his goals no matter what, and who killed without the slightest afterthought, was screwing a girl half his age. His eyes wandered in-between the two figures sitting on the steps. Seeing Saitou hurt him but then he had expected it to. Outwardly, the wolf hadn't changed much over the years; He had still the same arrogant posture, the same cold amber eyes and the same unconcerned smirk. His eyes focused with burning jealousy on the fragile, yet feminine, figure at his side. A girl, not yet a woman, seemingly made out of whitest marmot with luminous eyes somehow reminding him of jewels...this was the kind of person who now attracted the wolf? How different from Tokio she was! Saitou Tokio. Astonishingly enough, he had never been jealous of the woman, who had been married to his adored captain in the midst of the Bakumatsu, not for one minute in his life, but then the tender-voiced, fragile being with her innocent, imploring eyes had always been too ravishing for the desire or the envy of men. He still remembered her and her relationship to Saitou very well. They had been like fire and ice, like two elements that could never get near each other without hurting the other one. Political marriages were most often unhappy but in this special case, unhappiness was the very substance of the union since it was the only feeling next to melancholy Tokio had seemed capable of. A little nostalgic smile appeared on his lips. Tokio, everyday after finishing the household chores in the Shinsengumi headquarters, she would sit by the windows and staring into nothing as if the world were not real to her, as if she was searching for one perfect setting that she alone could find; only now and then she would play a bit on her shamisen, the music bitter-sweet and lustrous, ever building to a climax which would never come. One could not help but feel pity for the broken little thing with her beautiful yet lightless eyes and her never smiling but adorable full lips. Pity her and her husband who had been bound to this strange woman, whom he would never fully possess, or know, or understand. And Saitou had tried in his own way. Every so often he had bought her some clothing, a kimono, an obi, or some other present, but if he did not open them for her, they remained untouched. She simply lived in her own world which her husband was no part of. Saitou and Tokio, two had been a tragedy, that was for sure. Again he looked to this pretty little girl who was sitting next to Saitou and listening anxiously to him. His hands balled to fists. Whoever she was, he would not tolerate that she made the wolf happy.