InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ The Other Kichiro ( Chapter 56 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Bellaniece re-shouldered her purse as she followed Kichiro through the airport.  Feeling exuberant to the point of near giddiness, she couldn't suppress the giggle that slipped from her as Kichiro shot her a lazy grin.  "You're in a good mood," he commented.  "You should be exhausted, shouldn't you?"

"Maybe," she agreed as her smile widened.  "I can be tired later.  I don't feel like it now."

"Is there a reason you're so happy?" he asked, lowering his voice as he leaned toward her to whisper his question in her ear.

Bellaniece giggled again.  "Considering what we did to pass time during the flight?  I'd say there is."

He chuckled.  "I can safely say that was a first for me," he remarked then grimaced.  "Then again, I'm pretty sure the pilot heard you screaming . . ."

Cheeks pinking as she ducked her head for just a moment before grinning unrepentantly, Bellaniece shrugged and reached for Kichiro's hand.  He turned away before she could grab it, and she sighed as he strode toward baggage claim.  'Belle, you have no shame, do you?'

She wrinkled her nose and giggled.  'Nope, not a bit of it.'

'He's probably right,' her youkai accused.  'If the pilot didn't hear you, he'd have to be deaf.'

'There's nothing wrong with what we were doing,' she argued.  'What Kichiro and I have . . . It's beautiful—and he was pretty loud, too.  It wasn't just me . . .'

'I think he's a bad influence . . . Your future mate should be tempering your impetuousness, not encouraging it.'

'Oh, get a grip . . . We were perfectly safe, weren't we?  There wasn't a problem, and you're thinking too much.'

'And do you think your father will approve?  If he knew what you and Kichiro have been up to—'

'Daddy would be happy for me—after he was finished screaming at me about the impropriety of it all.  In the end, he just wants me to be happy, and Kichiro . . . Kichiro makes me happy.'  She giggled again.  'Really, really happy . . .'

"Okay, that's taken care of," Kichiro said as he stopped beside her.  "You hungry?"

Bellaniece shrugged, glancing at the huge clock mounted on the wall.  New Tokyo International Airport was always busy, and as people bustled past, Bellaniece braced herself on Kichiro's arm.  He scowled slightly and reached out to steady her, letting his hand drop away when she'd regained her footing.  "Come on."

Frowning as she followed him toward the exit, Bellaniece tried to brush aside the odd feeling that Kichiro wasn't pleased that she'd touched him.

'No, that can't be right.  Kichiro loves when you touch him . . . I mean, he was begging you to do that on the plane . . .'

'That's true . . . Still . . .'

'You're imagining things, Belle.'

She bit her lip and stood silently as Kichiro hailed a cab.  Maybe she was; of course she was.  She had to be.  Kichiro loved being affectionate with her.  Hugging her as they walked through the mall, wrapping his arms around her when he'd taken her to the movies . . . In the last two weeks since they had officially started dating, he'd been attentive and sweet, kind and generous . . . Of course he wouldn't suddenly change.  That notion was stupid—really stupid.

He opened the door of the cab for her.  Bellaniece ducked under his arm to climb inside.  After telling the driver to take them to Bellaniece's apartment, Kichiro sat back and closed the door.  "My apartment?" Bellaniece teased.

Kichiro snorted.  "You don't want to change or anything before we go?"

She shrugged and scooted closer to him.  "Sure," she agreed.  "So, where are you taking me for lunch?"

He sat perfectly still, making no move to slip his arm around her shoulders and even seemed to withdraw a little further into the corner of the cab.  "Wherever," he told her.  "It doesn't matter.  Pick a place."

'Okay, now I know I'm not really imagining this,' Bellaniece thought as she slowly shook her head.  "Is something the matter?" she finally asked.  "Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to avoid touching me?"

Irritation filtered into his expression but not quickly enough to hide the momentary look of shock, followed quickly by one of absolute guilt before he forced an angry bravado and snorted again.  "Keh!  Don't be ridiculous, Belle.  I'm not avoiding a thing."

She sat back and nodded, willing herself not to be hurt by what she perceived to be a lie.  "Okay," she agreed quietly.  She wanted to believe him . . . "I guess I'm just being paranoid."

His smile was thin, weak.  Bellaniece grimaced inwardly and turned her attention out the window.  "Don't be.  I . . . wouldn't . . . try to avoid you.  Don't be stupid, princess."

He didn't say anything else as the taxi weaved its way through the busy streets of mid-day Tokyo.  For reasons Bellaniece didn't want to delve into too deeply, she couldn't quite bring herself to try to touch him again.  Maybe it was the very idea that he might try to pull away from her again.  Maybe it was the nagging suspicion that she had done something wrong.  Either way, she couldn't help but feel like he was angry with her, and that thought turned her stomach.  She hadn't done anything wrong, had she?

She tried not to be upset as she climbed out of the cab onto the street in front of her building.  Kichiro stuffed his hands into his pockets as he ambled along behind her.  "You know, I could just go pick up something," he offered.  "They should be bringing your luggage by soon."

"Oh . . . Okay," she said.  "If you'd rather . . ."

"Yeah, I'm kind of tired."  He shot her an almost sad smile before he dug his hands a little deeper into his pockets and started to walk away.

"Kichiro . . ."

He stopped and slowly turned to look at her.  Bellaniece closed the distance between them and braced herself on his arm before brushing her lips over his cheek.  Kichiro's gaze shifted around almost nervously before he quickly stepped back in retreat.

"All right," she murmured softly, pressing her hands over her chest—over her heart—as she nodded, as she fought back the rising heat that shot to her cheeks, coloring her features in a miserably embarrassed blush.  "I know I wasn't imagining that.  Are you ashamed of being seen with me?"

"What?" he blustered, back stiffening as he shook his head in denial.  "Of course not!  That's—"

"It's what?  You are, aren't you?"

"No!  Hell, no!  Why would I be ashamed of being seen with you?"

Bellaniece shrugged.  "I don't know.  You tell me."

"You're being ridiculous again."  He sighed and rubbed his eyes.  "I'll go get some lunch, and you can stop saying stupid stuff like that."

"Kiss me."

Kichiro looked confused.  "What?"

Bellaniece swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his gaze.  Completely disgruntled by her simple request, Kichiro's response was more than answer enough.  "If you're not ashamed, kiss me."

Planting his hands on his hips, he raised his eyebrows as he closed his eyes only to shake his head in exasperation.  "I can't kiss you here," he growled, careful to keep his tone lowered as strangers passed by on the street.

"Sure, you can.  If you're not ashamed, you can . . ."

"Listen, Belle," he said, grasping her arm and pulling her close enough to hiss in her ear.  "I'm not ashamed of you, and I don't have any idea where you got such a fucking stupid idea like that, but get it out of your head, will you?"

"I got the idea from you," she retorted.  "What else am I supposed to think?  From the moment we stepped foot off that plane, you've pushed me away.  Why?"

"I didn't push you away.  I—"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she jerked her arm out of his grasp and stepped back, needing to put some distance between them before she did something she'd regret, like slap him.  "So, I was good enough to entertain you in Maine and during the flight but not good enough for you to be seen in public with?  Do I have that right, Dr. Izayoi?"

He winced at the return of his formal name and shook his head as he grabbed her arm and tried to drag her into the apartment building.

Bellaniece tugged her arm away again and stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest.  "Do I?"

"Fuck, no, wench!  I never said—"

"You didn't have to say it!  You didn't have to say a damn thing!  I'm not stupid—or maybe I am stupid enough to believe your ridiculous lies . . . stupid enough to believe in you!"

"Belle—"

"No!  If I'm not good enough to be seen in public with you, then I'm not good enough to be with you, either.  Wasn't I a good enough fuck, Dr. Izayoi?  That's all I am to you, aren't I?  Another girl to add to your nameless collection?  Go scratch another notch on your bedpost.  I'm through with you."

"No!  I—"

"Don't touch me!" she growled as he reached for her arm again.

He backed off, holding up his hands and glancing around to see whether or not anyone had heard her.  His retort was cut off by the arrival of the airport service he'd hired to deliver Bellaniece's luggage.  They glanced at the couple rather curiously but remained silent as they dragged her luggage out of the nondescript white van.

"Just go, okay?" she muttered.  "Leave me alone."

She turned on her heel and yanked the door open, showing the way to her apartment as the two delivery boys followed her without a word.  Digging a handful of money out of her purse after unlocking the door, she couldn't even summon a fake smile as she tipped the young men and started to shut the door.

Kichiro caught it before she could close it in his face, slamming it back with a raised fist.  Bellaniece gasped and stepped away before the door hit her.  Determined to ignore him, she grabbed the first two suitcases and stomped off toward her bedroom with Kichiro close on her heels.

"Belle, damn it, will you listen to me?"

"I think I've heard enough, thanks."

"No, I don't think you have," he countered.  Grabbing her arm to swing her around, he glowered down at her as he fought to control his irritation.  "Stop putting words in my mouth, will you?"

Reigning in the desire to squash his foot under the low heel of her sandal, Bellaniece tried to pull away as Kichiro's grip tightened.  "Let go."

"Not until you listen!"

"Fine, then tell me what I could have possibly misconstrued from your actions!"

He growled, and for a moment, Bellaniece wondered if he was going to lose what was left of his temper.  "This isn't Maine, Belle!  In case you haven't noticed, no one runs around Tokyo holding hands or kissing in public!  It just isn't done here!"

"And that matters to you?  You're a self-professed man-whore!  You're telling me that you've never touched someone in public before?"

His silence was answer enough.

Bellaniece pushed against him hard enough to free herself before unlocking the first suitcase and shoving it open.  "Get out, Dr. Izayoi.  Just get out."

He sighed, and his tone was gentler when he finally spoke again.  "Look . . . I'm a surgeon—a well known surgeon—and you're the daughter of a famous artist.  Do you really think that the press wouldn't notice that?"

Bellaniece brushed past him to hang some clothes in the closet.  "Oh, please!  The press doesn't have any idea who I am, even if they do know who you are!  Daddy's years of seclusion ensured that.  Try again or get the hell out of my home."

"Damn it, you're only seventeen . . . How the hell will that look?"

Bellaniece snatched the velvet covered jeweler's box out of her suitcase and slowly turned to glower incredulously at the hanyou, shaking her head in disbelief.  Choking out a sound that was caught halfway between a sob and a humorless laugh, she shook her head.  "Only . . . so, why didn't that stop you before?" she demanded.  "It never crossed your mind when you took me to bed, did it?  It never crossed your mind when we were alone in Maine.  It never crossed your mind, at all!  Now you're honestly going to say that it matters?"

"Belle—"

"I . . . hate . . . you!" she bit out, the words more cutting because of her rasping tone.  She shoved the jeweler's box in his hand and pushed him toward the door.  "Get out!  Get.  Out.  I never, ever, ever want to see you again!"

"Will you just listen?"

She slapped her hands over her ears and shook her head as the first sob escaped.  "I've heard enough!" she screamed.  "Get out!  Just get out!  Take your stupid gifts, and leave me alone!  I hate you!"  She sniffled as Kichiro stepped toward her.  She backed up until she bumped into the window sill.  "I hate you," she whispered again, dashing the back of her hand over her eyes.

Kichiro grimaced, staring at her for a minute.  Ears flattened against his head as he watched her struggle to hold in her tears, he heaved a sigh and slipped the box onto her nightstand before striding out of her room.  Bellaniece waited for the slam of the front door moments later before giving in to the angry tears that were already coursing down her cheeks.

'How . . . could he . . .?'

Her youkai voice didn't have any answers, either.

Bellaniece stared at the blurry form of the jeweler's box on the table.  Before she could stop herself, she grabbed the box, jerked open the window, and tossed it outside.  The action brought her no comfort at all, and, crossing her arms over her stomach, she leaned against the wall, sank down in the corner.

'Daddy . . . I want Daddy . . .'

An ache so deep that it opened up a deeper pain in her heart made her keen softly as she her temple fall against the wall.  Not even Cain Zelig could fix this for her, could he?  No one could . . . No one but Kichiro . . .

'Kichiro . . . I thought . . . How could you . . .?'


Gin rolled over and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with balled-up fists as she yawned.  "I feel great!" she exclaimed softly, peering over her shoulder at the wide-awake youkai beside her.

Cain sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before he slowly pushed himself up.  "Good.  Glad to hear it."

Frowning at his terse reply, Gin shook her head and flopped back onto the bed.  "Are you okay?  You sound a little irritated."

"Nope, just fine.  Never better."

"You don't sound fine."

He forced a dim smile.  "You're imagining things, Gin."

Ears flattening as she rolled to the side, leaning up on her elbow as she hesitantly reached out to rub Cain's back, she sighed, too.  "If you're sure . . ."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Cain stood up and strode toward the bathroom.  Gin sat up and watched him go.  "Cain?" she called after him.  He stopped in the doorway but didn't look back at her.  "Did I do something to make you angry?"

"I'm not angry."

"You sound angry."

"Nope."

"You're sure?"

"Yep."

"Thank you for taking care of me last night."

He shrugged and finally turned his head to look back at her.  "Yeah, just don't eat everything you get your paws on, baby girl," he teased.

She grimaced as he chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door quietly.  She hadn't meant to get a stomach ache.  She hadn't realized that all the food she'd eaten yesterday would come back to haunt her.  It hadn't seemed like that much at the time: an ice cream cone here . . . a huge slice of pizza there . . . countless items that really wouldn't have bothered her if she hadn't eaten them all in the same day, she supposed.  By the time they'd gone to bed, Gin's stomach was starting a painful revolt against the food that she'd consumed.

Cain had been so sweet though.  After giving up on trying to feed her things that he said would settle her belly, he'd gotten a small bucket of hot water and spent the evening changing compresses on her stomach and when those stopped working, he just held her, rubbing her belly as she whined and swore she was never, ever eating another thing so long as she lived.

She'd know it before, but it struck her again, just how patient Cain was with her.  She'd told him that she was fine, that he should and could go get something for himself to eat.  Assuring him that she would be all right, telling him that she didn't mind if he left her alone, Gin couldn't help but feel like he was suffering because of her.  He'd told her not to be ridiculous; that there was no way he could just leave her like that . . .

'That doesn't really account for his mood, does it?  He seems a little irritated . . . but why?'

Chewing on her bottom lip as she scowled at her hands, Gin couldn't figure out just why he'd be so out of sorts.  'Well, I get a little cranky when I miss a meal . . . maybe Cain's the same way . . .'

'No, I don't think that's it . . . He seemed awfully tense when he went to the bathroom.'

Gin cocked her head to the side and listened.  She could vaguely discern the sound of the running shower taps.  'Still, something has to be bothering him.  He's acting really strange.'

'You could ask him.'

She made a face.  'He won't tell me.  He'll think I'll be upset, and he hates to tell me things that upset me.'

'Well, there has to be a reason he's acting the way he is.  Maybe all he needs is a little encouragement to talk.'

Scooting off the bed, Gin padded over to the bathroom door and knocked before pushing it open and peeking inside.  "Umm, Cain?"

"What?"

She winced at his sharp tone, at the obvious irritation in his voice but forced herself to step into the room.  "I . . . well, I . . . I'm sorry I ruined your night last night."

"You didn't," he told her.  "I just . . . didn't sleep very well.  That's all."

"You could go back to bed," she suggested, bracing her hands to heft herself onto the marble counter.

"Gin . . . Do you always sit in the bathroom and talk to people while they're showering?"

"You want me to leave?  I've seen naked men before, you know.  I've seen you naked before, for that matter . . ."

He sighed.  "All right; suit yourself . . . I'm starting to think you're trying to kill me, but whatever . . ."

The last part of his statement was mumbled, and Gin figured he hadn't meant for her to hear it.  She frowned in confusion and shook her head.  "Why would I do that?"

"Do what?"

"Try to kill you."

"You're not . . . I was being stupid.  Ignore me."

"Cain—"

"Gin . . ."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're in a bad mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood," he growled.

"You sound like you are."

"Well, I'm not."

"Right."

"Damn it . . ."

"I'm your friend, right?  You're supposed to tell your friends things; otherwise you're not a very good friend."

"All right; all right!"  Cain sighed.  "Because," he grumbled, "you were squirming all night."

"I was . . .?"

"Yeah, you were . . . and you weren't feeling well, so I behaved myself, but you know, you just wouldn't stop squirming."

"I couldn't get comfortable."

"I know . . . Just forget it, okay?"

"But—"

"No, Gin, it's fine.  Don't worry about it.  I'll live, right?"

". . . All right."

He sighed.  "You'd better get dressed and stuff.  We're going to have visitors later."

Gin's ears twitched.  "Visitors?  Who?"

"Well, I am," he amended.  "My generals are coming by this afternoon."

"Oh . . . I'll just stay up here, then."

"You don't have to hide, Gin."

"I know," she assured him.  "I need to call home, anyway . . . Mama said that Papa wanted me to call so he could check up on me."

"Your father's got serious control issues," Cain grumbled.

"He does not!  He just worries about me, and he is my papa . . ."

"Way to put a nice face on it, baby girl.  Your father would drag you right back home if you'd let him."

Gin giggled.  "That might be true, but it's only because he worries about me."

"Yeah, you're just being hopeful now.  What would you do if your papa found out about us?"

"What about us?"

"What do you mean, what about us?  What if he found out that you've been sleeping with me?"

". . . Are you going to tell him?"

"I'd do it in a second if I didn't think you'd be irritated with me."

Gin's smile faded as she shook her head and shrugged.  "You wouldn't, you know," she said quietly.  "I know you wouldn't, and that's okay."

"And why wouldn't I?"

Gin slid off the counter and padded over to the door, slipping out of the bathroom before Cain could press her for answers.  'He wouldn't tell Papa . . . because he'd have to admit things to himself that he doesn't really want to think about.'

'What are you thinking, doll?  Even if Cain can't make promises to you, you know he cares about you.'

She smiled sadly as she wandered over to the heavy glass doors.  The humidity hit her as she stepped outside onto the balcony, and Gin sighed as she watched the gardener pruning the row of hedges that lined the patio around the shimmering blue pool.  'He cares about me, yes . . . but he also cares about his promise to Isabelle.'

'Of course he does.  If he were callous and cold enough not to, you wouldn't love him, would you?'

Gin shook her head, lifting her face to the sky as she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.  'No,' she agreed as a tear slipped down her cheek.  'I don't suppose I would.'


Kichiro knocked on the door, tapping the jeweler's box against his thigh as he waited for someone to answer.  It'd been sheer dumb luck, he figured.  As he strode away from the building, he'd hopped back as the box fell in front of him.  He'd known Bellaniece was furious, but so was he.  Didn't she have any regard at all for how much the damn jewelry cost him?  He'd bought the necklace and earrings for her, and she threw it out her window . . .

Nezumi opened the door and blinked in surprise.  "You're back?" she questioned.  "Duh, of course you are . . . You all right?"

Waving off her concern as the childhood friend leaned to the side to peer up into his face; Kichiro brushed past her and stepped into the house.  "Yeah, we just got back," he supplied, hoping that was enough of an answer yet knowing that the chances of that were slim and none.

Ryomaru glanced up from the video game he was playing with Toga.  Wrinkling his nose as he made a point of sniffing in his twin's general vicinity, Ryomaru paused the game and dropped the controller before slowly standing up as his face registered abject disgust.  "Oi!  You reek!"

Toga handed his controller to Coral and stood up, too.  "Hmm . . . You sure do . . ."

"I don't reek," Kichiro snarled as Sierra tugged the jeweler's box out of his hand.

"Okay, you just smell . . . different," Toga allowed.

"Different?" Ryomaru scoffed.  "That's a new word for it."

"Shut up, Ryo."

"There's only two demented beings who smell that similar, and since one is male, then I'd venture you've been drooling all over the grabby wench," Ryomaru went on.

"She doesn't smell at all like her father!" Kichiro growled.

"Oh, my," Sierra muttered as Nezumi leaned over her shoulder to peer into the box.  "Talk about impressive family jewels . . ."

"Damn, Kich," Nezumi agreed.  "Talk about big enough to choke a horse . . ."

"What's that?" Toga asked as he strode over to the women.  "Wow . . . You must have really fucked up."

"Holy balls," Ryomaru added, peeking over Nezumi's shoulder.  "Is she that good?"

Nezumi smacked Ryomaru's chest and shook her head.  "You're such a baka," she mumbled.

"What'd I say?" Ryomaru protested.  "This 'baka' is taking those cooking classes for you, wench."

"Why are you taking those classes?" Kichiro couldn't help but ask.

His twin shrugged.  "Sounded like a good idea," he grumbled, cheeks reddening.  "Anyway, this ain't about me; it's about you and why you had to buy those."

"I think it's precious," Sierra added.  "I'd be so happy if Toga bought me something like that."

"Like you need something like that, and you know, you've never acted like you wanted anything like that," Toga countered.

Sierra stared at the jewelry for a moment and shrugged before leaning over to kiss Toga's cheek.  "They would be pretty impractical."

"Why you buying jewelry?" Ryomaru demanded.  "Men only buy stuff like that when they're in trouble or when women think they're in trouble."

"Or when they're trying to get into said trouble," Toga quipped, arching an eyebrow at his cousin.

"Shut up, damn it," Kichiro grouched, fighting down the hot wash of color that seeped into his cheeks despite his best efforts to contain it.  "It's not like that!"

"You can do so much better than her . . . Hell, you could get a blow-up doll that'd be better than her," Ryomaru snorted.

"She's going to be my mate, baka!" Kichiro bellowed.  The entire room fell silent, and the blush that Kichiro had been fighting shot to the fore.  "Well, she was going to be . . . 'course, she says she hates me now . . ."

"Hates you?" Sierra echoed as she handed the box to Nezumi to offer Kichiro her full attention.  Cassidy tugged on Kichiro's arm.  He scooped up the child and smacked a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek as she squealed in delight.  "I doubt it's possible to hate you . . . Ryomaru, maybe, but you?"

"I know!  It's impossible, isn't it?" he joked half-heartedly then sighed.  "I just don't get it.  I mean, everything was fine till we came home, and now . . ." He trailed off, trying to keep his ears from flattening against his skull.  It didn't work.  "I don't see why she has to be so unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable, how?" Sierra asked.

Kichiro threw his hands up in a defeated gesture.  "I don't know . . . She expects me to fawn all over her in public . . . She's being completely irrational, won't listen to reason . . . I don't know what to do with her."

Sierra took Cassidy and set her back on her feet before taking Kichiro's hand and tugging him over to the sofa.  "Well, why don't you tell me what her problem is, exactly?"

Kichiro snorted.  "She was trying to hold my hand and . . . kiss me in public.  I don't like it.  It's not proper."

"Damn straight, it ain't proper," Ryomaru agreed as he flopped onto the sofa beside Sierra.  "Then again, since when have we been proper?"

"You're even stupider than I thought," Toga scoffed as he picked up Sierra—extra baby weight and all—and settled her on his lap.

"What?" Kichiro demanded.

Toga shook his head.  "You're stupid, Kichiro—idiotic . . . foolhardy . . . mentally incapacitated . . . a few eggs short of a dozen . . ."

"Oh, I'm stupid?  Why am I stupid?  Because I want to be respectable?"

Sierra shook her head.  "You know, Kich . . . If Toga ignored me in public, I think I'd have issues with it, too . . ."

"I'm a surgeon, Sierra.  I have a reputation to uphold."

Nezumi sat down with a bowl of rice crackers.  Ryomaru shot her a cursory glance as she chucked a cracker at her mate.  He caught it in his mouth, rolling his eyes before he narrowed his gaze on her.  "Well, how was it in America?  Were you affectionate with her there?" Nezumi asked reasonably just before she whizzed a cracker at Kichiro.  He caught it and scowled at his sister-in-law.  "Nice catch."

"Knock that off," he growled after swallowing the cracker.  Ever since Nezumi had realized that the twins couldn't help but catch food that was tossed at them, she'd been unbearable about it.

"All right," Nezumi agreed.  "But answer the question."

Kichiro started say that there hadn't been a change.  The sudden image of Bellaniece's happy smile as he reached for her on the boardwalk at Funtown stopped him . . . the vision of her wide-eyed wonder as he took her hand and helped her into the carriage outside the New York Metropolitan Opera . . . countless memories of touching Bellaniece and of reveling in the knowledge that she wanted to touch him, too . . .

"Yeah," he admitted quietly.  "I guess I was . . . but this isn't Maine.  Things are different here."

Toga snorted.  "Keh!  You're a baka."

"I am not the bad guy!" he insisted.

"You can't change the rules," Sierra said slowly.  "You might have been more sympathetic if you hadn't tried to do that."

"You're taking her side?" he asked with a shake of his head.  "What the . . .?  No!  Did I mention that she's only seventeen?"

"Damn, Kich . . . You didn't say that to her, did you?" Toga asked with a wince.

". . . Maybe."

A collective groan echoed through the living room.  The two hanyou sisters turned to stare at the adults, eyes wide with confusion.  "Did Kichiro do something stupid?" Coral asked, blinking solemnly at her father.

Toga choked back a laugh and ruffled his eldest daughter's coal black hair.  "No, baby . . . At least, nothing he can't fix."

"I can fix it?" he couldn't help but ask.

Toga shrugged as he waved at the game in an effort to distract his children.  "Sure, you can.  Go tell her you were wrong."

"But I wasn't wrong," he growled.

"Nope, you were absolutely right," Ryomaru agreed.  "I mean, what the fuck is she thinking?  You're famous.  Not many folks in Tokyo don't know who you are.  Having a grabby wench like her pawing you constantly . . . Keh!  I know I'd hate that."

"It isn't that bad," he grumbled.  "It's not like she spends her time trying to get to my—"

Loud throat clearing from Toga cut Kichiro off.

"No, it's absolutely that bad!" Ryomaru went on.  "I mean, hell, she grabbed my ears without even realizing that I wasn't you.  Who's to say that you won't be somewhere all prim and proper with the wench grabbing your ears . . . or other . . . parts . . .?"

Kichiro snorted.  "There's a huge difference between holding hands and kissing my cheek and what you're talking about."

Ryomaru chuckled suddenly.  "Yeah, there is, ain't there?"

Kichiro blinked slowly and groaned, realizing too late that his idiot brother might not be as much of an idiot as he thought before.  "Oh, hell . . ."

"You know, I can't believe I'm going to say this," Nezumi mumbled, "but . . . Ryo's got a point."

Ryomaru looked completely smug.  "That's 'cause I'm the smart twin."

Nezumi rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, he does," Sierra agreed.  "Kich . . . do you want to fix it with Belle?"

Kichiro shot the women a look that stated just what he thought of that idea.   "Of course I do."

"Then let her hold your hand.  Kiss her in public.  Let her feel like . . ." Toga trailed off, unable to come up with the right word for his thoughts.

"Like a princess," Kichiro mumbled as he grabbed the jeweler's box and opened the lid to stare at the opulent jewelry inside.  "Like my princess."