Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Ashes to Ashes ❯ Shop 'till I Drop ( Chapter 4 )

Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Four: Shop 'till I Drop

DISCLAI MER: Kamatari is not mine (unfortunately) and she/he belongs to his/her rightful owners, Watsuki-sama and co. As do any other characters from Rurouni Kenshin who happen to show up. I'm only borrowing them, and I don't have any money, so it's no use suing me. Jessica, and the entire American and French cast ARE mine, so please don't borrow them without asking. (Although, why you'd want to totally eludes me.)

WARNING: This story takes place AFTER the Kyoto arc. If you do not wish to be spoiled, read no further. ALSO, this story will eventually contain a yaoi pairing. Nothing graphic, but if you don't like yaoi, it's best to nip impending fic addiction in the bud.

Now that all that is said, ENJOY! All C&C to pawscat_love@yahoo.com.

The milliner's shop was bright and cheerful, a startling contrast to the one I'd just left. It was almost frighteningly neat, with each item having its own box, slot, hanger, or stand. It will surprise you to know, therefore, that the shop owner was, in a word, not.

She was a rounded little woman with gray hair that seemed to go everywhere at once. There was dust on her nose and a stain on her hem, and her spectacles were very crooked. Her smile was inviting, however, and her shop obviously well loved, so I didn't let the tidiness intimidate me.

There were gloves and laces in glass displays on the left, parasols and hats on stands to the right, scarves and shawls hung on the wall in front. Everything one could ever want or need was somewhere in this small room, I was sure. I was examining a display of parasols when I finally heard the shop door open. Only a moment to recover… It must be a record.

Johanna didn't even bother fully entering the shop, but simply screeched at me from the doorway, "Where did you get a dozen French gowns?" She was an amusing shade of green that clashed horridly with her pastel pink day ensemble.

I turned nonchalantly to the shopkeeper, "Do you have any parasols with less lace on them?" Johanna turned an even less comely shade of purple as I consulted a moment with the woman about parasols, finally selecting an unadorned one to purchase. Only when I had made my selection and gotten my amusement and irritation under control, did I turn. "In France, of course," I couldn't help but put just a bit of condescension in my tone. Johanna's mouth dropped.

"You've been to France?" She seemed at the last minute to realize the awe in her tone and hastened to add, "Who would have thought a peasant like you would have been to France…"

Not bothering to correct the many assumptions she'd erroneously made, I just smiled, "Yes, who would have thought." Certainly not you. "I spent the better part of five months in Paris. My uncle has a large estate there." Johanna was gaping like a landed fish; the look suited her. "Uncle Robert was kind enough to buy me many dresses in Paris. For the parties, you know." I didn't bother mentioning that I'd never worn the gowns to a single party.

"You've been to balls in Paris?" That was Rebecca. From what I could tell, she resided just below Paula in the ranks.

I smiled sweetly at them, "Dozens. Uncle Robert is always being asked to this ball and that. He's good friends with the Grand Duke of Russia." That wasn't a total lie. I had been introduced very briefly to his grace at three separate balls, so I assumed that my 'uncle' had at least met the man.

Having said all I intended to say, I turned away and began examining a case of hair ornaments. The other girls were silent for a long moment, and then they clumped around me like so many pastel clouds and began grilling me with questions about French fashion. Johanna was almost disgustingly nice to me during the discussion. When we finally left the shop, me juggling both my doll and a parasol, Johanna opened the door for me and allowed me to precede her through it. If I were an empty headed twit, I probably would have dissolved into a fit of giggles at the irony of such actions, but I refrained.

The next two shops were dull looking, so we did not bother to investigate them. Or rather, I did not bother to investigate them, so the other girls decided they didn't need to go in after all.

There was a bookshop a little up the way, though, and I was most interested in stopping in there. It was dim and cool within the confines of the little shop, and smelled of dust and paper. I smiled and took a deep breath; I've always loved the smell of books.

I slipped into the rows of shelves, skillfully eluding the girls who sought to follow. I wanted to be able to enjoy a few moments of quiet. I soon found myself in front of a wall of leather-bound collections of poetry. Choosing one at random, I flipped through the heavy pages until a verse caught my eye.

I will not ask where thou liest low,
Nor gaze upon the spot;
There flowers or weeds at will may grow,
So I behold them not:
It is enough for me to prove
That what I lov'd, and long must love,
Like common earth can rot;
To me there needs no stone to tell,
'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well. (1)

I read the poem twice, and flipped through the rest of the book, but none of it touched my heart like that one little verse. I contemplated buying the book, but my frugality wouldn't allow such a large purchase for such a small gain. In the end, I settled for a mystery and a book of fairy stories. I did note the name of the poem, however, and the author, so that I could find it later if I wished.

As I was wending my way back through the stacks to the front, I stumbled across Rebecca nestled before a stack of romantic drivel. She was deeply engrossed in a novel, sighing deeply every few moments. When I cleared my throat to announce my presence, she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Karalyn! Heavens, I didn't see you!" She pressed one hand to her rather copious bosom and took several deep breaths. I hadn't really paid much attention to Rebecca before this. She was very quiet, not that it was a simple matter to get a word in around Johanna and Paula. With that in mind, I took a good look at her for the first time.

She was very short, with black hair and muddy gray/brown eyes. She was a little on the plump side with a round face, and her nose was upturned in such a way that I was slightly reminded of a young pig. The nose, however, did not mar her appearance any; instead, it seemed to lend an air of youth to her. Overall, she was pretty, and, if not the brightest, she certainly wasn't completely brainless. This was proven to me when she picked up the stack of books she'd chosen.

Two of them were treatises on advanced mathematics, something most men didn't even attempt unless absolutely necessary. Rebecca must have noticed my gaze because she shifted nervously. "My father is an architect. He built the building that Johanna's father's bank is in." She cleared her throat nervously, "Don't tell Johanna, please? She thinks it's unladylike for women to be too smart."

I almost snorted at that. She just thinks it's 'unladylike' for anyone to be smarter than her. So much I wanted to say that, but I just nodded and smiled conspiratorially. "If you'd like, I will put them in my stack."

Rebecca, glancing around and noting Johanna hovering around the back desk like some unhappy spirit, nodded vigorously. I took the two books from her, precariously shifting my doll as I helped her off the ground. While Rebecca checked out the rest of her books, an essay collection on the history of dance and three romantic novels, I surreptitiously flipped through the two books of mathematics. I was pleasantly surprised by their difficulty. Perhaps there is someone here who can grasp Shishio-sama's genius after all.

When the shopkeeper took my purchases, Johanna stared at them so hard that I was sure that she knew about the switch somehow. As she turned her eyes to a nearby shelf, however, I realized that she wasn't glaring, but squinting. Queen Johanna needs spectacles?

The amusing image of Johanna's thin, pointed face weighed down by humongous wire frames slipped through my mind. The laugh died in my throat, though, as I saw myself slicing through the face with my Ohgama. I did so miss my scythe. That unhappy thought quickly drained my good humor.

My loss of humor was not helped by the fact that Miss van Haver was waiting for us outside the shop. "Hurry up. It's time for lunch," she snapped at me, then turned and marched off in a huff.

We met up with the other girls outside a small restaurant and were quickly shown to our seats. From the moment we stepped inside, all eyes were upon me; I could feel them like pin pricks on my skin. Of course, what else could I expect? I am the sexiest.

Before we had even finished seating ourselves, a waiter came out to take our orders. He took one look at me, however, and stopped dead in his tracks. Johanna had to not so subtly stomp on his foot before he recovered himself enough to continue. I smiled winningly at him and ordered the simplest meat dish they had and a salad.

He smiled back and turned to go, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor. Still smiling, but red as a radish, he got to his feet and scrambled into the kitchens. Johanna and Paula were green with envy, but Rebecca and Jessica looked about ready to burst a stay (2) laughing.

While we waited for the entertainment, pardon, I mean the waiter, to return, Johanna and Paula whispered and chatted amongst themselves. The rest of us were silent.

The restaurant was stylishly decorated and obviously catered to the high middle of high society. I was hopeful that this meant it had a French chef. The delicious scents of the restaurant were reminding me that I hadn't eaten since I got off the ship the previous day at midmorning. The jester, pardon again, waiter, returned balancing a tray of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. I was quite surprised when he managed to gracefully place each cup and serve the lemonade without mishap.

When he came around to my seat, I smiled at him again, "Thank you..?"

He blushed a delightful shade of pink and choked, "Geoffrey…"

I could feel a predatory smile slip onto my face, "Well, Geoffrey, it's so… nice to meet you." I batted my eyelashes at him as I had seen a comtesse do in Paris. The poor boy made it all the way to the kitchen door before tripping and sending the pitcher of lemonade all over his nice crisp uniform. I must admit, the view was nicer with his clothes stuck to him.

I was dragged from my pleasant contemplation by the harsh sound of a throat clearing. Let me tell you, if looks could kill, I'd have enough weapons to set up shop again. Miss van Haver, Johanna and Paula were glaring so hard I thought their eyeballs would burst. If only. Well, I think Johanna was glaring, anyway. Miss Priss was aimed a little too far to my left, so she may have just been trying to figure out where I was exactly.

Now, I suppose that I was probably living up to the exact kind of behavior Miss van Haver had expected of me. Not that that was going to stop me any, but I do give the woman SOME credit… I smiled sweetly and sighed, "What a nice young man. Don't you think so, Johanna? The help in Paris isn't nearly so charming." Johanna seemed torn for a moment, but finally nodded reluctantly. Her lips were pinched so tight that I was reminded of a joke Chou had particularly liked. It was the one about the virgin who… Never mind.

Sadly enough, our waiter's drenched state meant that he had to go fetch clean clothes to wear, so some other person served us for the rest of the meal. It wasn't nearly as entertaining.

Finally, the dishes were served, and I looked forward to eating real food at last. As soon as I cut into the slab of meat, however, my appetite vanished. The red juices oozed out of the meat, flowing over the edge of the plate and across the table. As they spread, they grew darker until everything was drowning in deep, rich blood. I looked around at the other girls, trying to contain my terror. Not here… Not now… Miss van Haver was gleefully ripping the flesh from the arm of that poor waiter, while Johanna picked out his eyes. The other girls were simply staring down at their laps, oblivious to the carnage all around them. The restaurant was filled with the disembodied appendages of the other patrons. I did this. I killed them all…

I had drowned in this waking dream often since my defeat at Kaoru's hands, and each time, even if I was expecting it, it shook me to my core. This vision was different than all the rest, though. Never before had anything remained untouched by the blood and gore. As I glanced around, I saw Jessica looking sadly at me. The blood lapped at her shoes, but not a drop touched her. I shook my head at her, wanting her to look away from me; not to see the blood on my hands and in my heart. She just smiled sadly and reached out for me.

Everything dissolved into slick crimson that got darker and darker until the blackness threatened to overwhelm me. Then I heard Yumi's voice, Be strong, my friend. Blackness exploded with color, and the world spun back into being. I was breathing hard, sweat beading on my brow, but I had conquered the fear. For the moment.

The blood was gone, but I had no appetite for the delicious meal. I picked at my salad through luncheon, watching the others dig into their meals gratefully.

The image of Jessica sitting like an island in a sea of blood was etched into my brain.

*****

The afternoon blurred together in a succession of uninteresting shops. I was so preoccupied with my vision that I just followed where I was led. Standing in the stationer's shop, I finally managed to drag a bit of my mind back into the present just in time for Johanna to launch into a fascinating explanation of the purpose and proper use of 'visiting cards'. She then insisted on helping me pick out a set for myself.

I probably could have told her that I'd learned all about those cards in Paris, but I was too drained to argue with her over something so ridiculous. I managed to settle on something rather unadorned, no lacey borders or ribbon trims; just a simple pale green card with a vine crawling up two sides of it. Johanna arranged to have the cards delivered to the school while I, realizing I had next to no western writing equipment left, picked out paper and ink for classes on Monday. I also found a pretty stationery set for personal correspondence. Not that I'm allowed to write to anyone.

We were leaving the shop when I caught a scent on the breeze from the cobbler's next door. Leather. Oil. It wrapped me in warmth, and I willingly followed that scent back to happier times.

*****

"Yer hair's gettin' long again, Kama."

It had been over a year since I'd joined the Juppon Gatana, and I'd yet to see Chou actually enter my room. He said it wasn't polite to enter a lady's private quarters, which was why it was perfectly fine for him to tromp through Yumi's dressing chamber at most times of day or night. I turned to the doorway, and, as I'd suspected, he was standing with his arm braced against the door frame; not a single hair crossed the threshold. It was sweet, really.

"I know," I sighed. "I'll have to cut it again soon." I smiled up at him, "Care to do it for me?" This was a game we played. I asked him to come in, he refused. He invited me to train with him, I declined. We all had little games we played with one another in the Juppon Gatana. It helped us all stay friends… or at least not kill each other.

Chou just quirked one eyebrow at me, "You wanna take me on?" Back when I first joined the group, I only knew how to fight with one weapon: the short knife. It was the weapon of whores and women, so of course my mother was an expert. Kaa-san taught me how to wield that blade with style and accuracy, and that was my expertise. I couldn't hold a candle to Chou, but I was good enough to at least to stay alive in Shishio-sama's training sessions.

"Thank you for the offer, but I only challenge men like you in bed," I winked at him. That line always seemed to amuse the broom head to no end.

A few minutes later, I was ready to lop my hair off again. My hairstyle in those days was a ragged hack job caused by the uneven cuts of my blade, and Soujiro and Yumi loved to tease me about being the mop to Chou's broom. I had grabbed a chunk of hair and reached awkwardly back to slice it off when an aggravated sigh interrupted my concentration.

"Fer the gods' sake… Gimme that thing 'fore you hurt yerself!" Chou's gloved hand took the knife from me, and he proceeded to give me what was probably the best haircut of my life. Just don't tell him that I said that.

The next day, however, I wasn't very thankful. He dragged me out to the training arena and, claiming that I 'owed' him for the haircut, proceeded to make me sample different weapons to find one that I liked. Being the contrary little brat that I am, I complained about every weapon he showed me. I named off a list of requirements for the weapon I wanted that was completely absurd. It had to be taller than me, weighted perfectly, and have a blade half as long as I am tall. When that didn't faze him any, I threw on the ball and chain bit in a fit of pique and stormed back to my rooms.

I thought nothing more of it until several months later when my birthday was rolling around. Chou and Saitsushi were often seen deep in conversation, but whenever I showed up, they acted like they'd been caught stealing. Now, I don't trust Saitsushi under the best of circumstances, and when he and broom head get together… You should see some of the practical jokes those two come up with. It was understandable, therefore, that I was extremely nervous come the dawning of my sixteenth birthday.

Around midmorning, Soujiro was dispatched to bring me news that my presence was needed in the training arena. The fact that Soujiro delivered this news with a gigantic smile did nothing for my nerves. Never mind the fact that I've never seen that boy when he's not smiling.

Whatever it was that I was expecting when I stepped into the training arena, it was definitely not what I got. Someone had picked large quantities of lilies, my favorite flower, and placed them in a circular arrangement around a table outfitted for a party. Everyone was there, excepting Usui, and each held a wrapped bundle.

Chou, who had been hiding to one side of the entrance, jumped out and dumped flower petals over my head. "Happy Birthday, Kama."

I won't go into the details of the party because somewhere around the fourth bottle of sake it got well beyond polite conversation. Before that, however, came the presents. Yumi and Shishio-sama collaborated to give me my soft green and royal purple kimono. Yumi said that the color and rich fabric would minimize notice of my lack of 'feminine appendages'. Soujiro gifted me with my ebony silk obi, and although it's hard to tell, there are actually black dragons embroidered on the whole thing to protect me from harm. Saitsushi, the old rascal, gave me my bracers.

"First, you have such obviously weak hands," he said, "that they will require extra protection. Second, we must protect that delicate skin of yours." Everyone chuckled at that, including me. "Thirdly, I have designed these myself, so they are the very best." He always was a bit full of himself, but he was right; those were the very best.

Houji then presented me with gift money, which no one was much surprised at. Anji gave me a stone carving he'd done of me… I lost that in the fall of the fortress. Iwanbo hadn't joined us at that point, and Fuji claimed half of Saitsushi's present. Hennya gave me a jar of Chinese skin cream that was guaranteed to keep my skin beautiful.

Finally, it was Chou's turn to present his gift. He had no wrapped bundle, but left briefly and returned carrying the most awkward thing I'd ever seen in my life. He had found me a weapon that met all my insane criteria. Little did I know it was going to be perfect, and that within a year I'd be moved above him in the ranks of the Juppon Gatana.

*****

By the time we reached the last shop of the day, a candy store, I had regained a little of my equilibrium. My stomach had also recovered enough to remind me that I hadn't eaten in well over a day.

The rest of the girls were also in the store, so I gathered that this was the meeting place before we all returned to school. Most of them were chatting quietly about what they were going to buy and how much it was going to affect their corset strings. Near the back, staring with longing at a display of chocolate dipped fruits, stood Jessica. She looked totally worn out, and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing her own uniform again. It didn't help the overall air of dilapidation that surrounded her.

I wasn't the only one who noticed the focus of Jessica's attention. Johanna sashayed over to her side and commented innocently, "Those look positively delicious. Are you going to get some, Jessica?" Without bothering to wait for an answer, she tilted her head as though realizing something and said loudly, "Oh, that's right, you can't afford even a single confection!"

The others in the room looked uncomfortable for the poor redhead, but at the same time, relieved that it wasn't them. Never wavering for a second, Jessica lifted her chin and excused herself to wait by the carriage. Johanna laughed nasally at her retreating back, but quickly lost interest when no one but Paula seemed at all amused.

The moment that I even glanced in the general direction of the display cabinets, my stomach decided it had had enough with waiting. It proceeded to begin eating its way out of my body; or at least that's what it felt like. "Well, she may not be able to buy anything, but I certainly can." I dragged a smirk onto my face and began picking out my purchases. Only Miss van Haver seemed to think anything of it when I bought a bag full of the fruit Jessica had been eying.

*****

(1) "And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair"

by George Gordon, Lord Byron

(2) A stay is a lace used in tightening a corset.