Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Ashes to Ashes ❯ Sing Sweetly, Sparrow ( Chapter 3 )

Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Three: Sing Sweetly, Sparrow

DISCLAIMER: 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.

*ducks the thrown objects* I know, I know… I'm such a bad fic writer-type person. This is only half of what I wanted for chapter three, too… I blame it all on the fact that my whip wielder has lost her internet connection and can't threate… I mean encourage me properly.

I'll attempt to be faster with the next bit. No promises, though.

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

I was early for breakfast this morning, most likely due to the fact that I'd been up for over an hour already. I padded softly into the dining room, smiling serenely at the room's sole occupant: Miss van Haver. She gave me a glaring once over, then, apparently unable to find fault with my appearance, turned away with a huff. Seating myself calmly, I hid a smile in the routine actions of unfolding my napkin.

On my way down the stairs, I had formulated a plan of action for dealing with Johanna. I would teach her truth if it killed me. She was weak.

As if conjured by my thoughts, Johanna and her entourage chose that moment to walk in. Johanna cast a look at me, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise, followed quickly by glaring envy. I met her eyes and smiled winningly, inwardly enjoying the unconcealed confusion that slowly clouded her features. "Did you sleep well, Johanna?" I was certain that the waver in my voice caused by repressed laughter would give me away.

Utter shock showed on the faces of Johanna's retinue, but her eyes only narrowed more. "I slept fine, thank you," She managed to cram a wealth of contempt into those last two words, "Did you sleep well, Karalyn?"

I simply continued to smile at her, not allowing my anger over the morning's events to show. This seemed to confuse her more, and she glared at me as though trying to see my thoughts. She glared at me so hard, in fact, that she almost missed her chair sitting down, and I had to break eye contact before I burst into laughter.

Minutes later, the other girls stumbled in. Jessica was the last to arrive, still wiping sleep from her eyes. I had finally managed to convince myself that I wasn't going to laugh at the slightest provocation and resumed my winning smiles to Johanna, even going so far as to compliment her on her hairstyle. This was a bit much, considering she obviously hadn't styled her hair yet and it looked like an overused mop, but she didn't seem to realize that and began to look smug. Jessica sat down silently, giving me a slight smile that died as she took in both my appearance and my attitude toward Johanna.

Breakfast was served, and I took one look at it and knew I was going to go hungry yet again. Runny, watery eggs shared plate space with half burnt, half over greased sausages. A gray glue-like substance occupied a bowl beside a slice of dry, rubbery toast. I didn't even bother picking up a utensil, but folded my hands in my lap and sighed inwardly. I did notice, however, the conspicuous absence of Marie, the serving girl from the morning's escapade.

Jessica also noticed the lack and a worried frown crossed her face. She also did not make any pretense of eating, and it is for that reason (and that alone, I was sure) that breakfast proceeded without mishap. By the end of the meal, Johanna was soaking up my few scattered words of praise and had even deigned to toss me a few condescending smiles.

The meal ended without anything more interesting happening than the girl on my left sharing one glance with the girl across from her before returning her gaze to the flatware, which was different this morning, I noted. Miss van Haver dismissed us disinterestedly for our morning break. I turned and hurried up to my room, eager as always to write my letter to Shishio-sama.

*****

Dear Shishio-sama,

I feel as though I'm fighting against the Battousai himself as I search for a spark of intelligence amongst these twits. A losing battle if ever there was one. I speak, of course, of the girls at this school. Though there is one who has shown at least minimal intelligence. Her name is Jessica, and she reminds me a little of myself as I was before you found me. She's obviously quite poor, something I can sympathize with, and she has a sort of strength about her. Everyone else here is unmercifully cruel to her, but she carries on as best she can. One of the cruelest girls is the reigning princess of the school. Her name is Johanna, and a weaker child I've never met. I am confused as to how she came to be considered so powerful when a single comment can send her to her room in a swoon.

Of course, I'd be even more shocked if the headmistress was the one in charge. I suppose as far as strength goes, Johanna does have more will than Miss van Haver. I will continue to keep watch on my opponents, as you would have wished.

I miss you always.

Yours eternally,

Kamatari

*****

I reread the letter a half dozen times, something in it nagging at me. I couldn't see anything wrong with it, so eventually I set it aside. The feeling wouldn't leave me alone, though, and the answer seemed to be just barely beyond my reach.

Finally feeling that if I thought about it another moment I'd go insane, I got up and left my room. As I locked the door, a pair of girls whose names I didn't feel worth the effort to remember, though I did note that they sat across from myself and my silverware obsessed neighbor at the dinner table, exited a room further down. They were each carrying a sheaf of papers and talking in rather lackluster tones.

"Why do we have to keep practicing? We sound terrible. She can't honestly expect us to perform," the girl on the left muttered mournfully.

The other girl sighed and rolled her oddly colored pale eyes, "She can, and she does. Stop complaining and hurry up, or we'll be late. You and I both know that the only reason we sound terrible is because Johanna sings the solo, and she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket!"

I was preoccupied with pondering the question of what color the girl's eyes were when she let out a yelp and tumbled to the floor. The papers she had been holding billowed upwards as if in slow motion. In my mind's eye I could see the papers being cast to all corners of the hallway and the trouble that it would cause the pair to put them back in order. They'd definitely be late then.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had moved forward and caught the papers midair. The pair jumped back in surprise as I was suddenly before them, holding out what I could now see was sheet music.

Maybe my training with Soujiro paid off after all… He couldn't have done any better, I'm sure. At the thought of my old friend, I smiled warmly and proffered the music again. Struggling to her feet, the girl, whose eyes I could now see were both oddly colored and mismatched, took the papers from me cautiously.

"Thank you," she murmured, continuing to blink at me in astonishment.

Gold… Her left eye is gold. Her right eye was in that moment branded in my mind as silver, since I couldn't think of a better description. "You're welcome." I moved aside so that they could pass me. "You had best hurry, or you will be late."

The other girl, all around a nondescript little thing with dirt-colored hair and eyes, glanced at me sharply, "Aren't you coming, too? Miss van Haver will throw a fit if you're late on the very first day."

"I was not told that I had to be anywhere today except for the shopping trip later on." I wondered if there was an ulterior motive behind Miss van Haver not informing me of a practice. Don't inform them so that you can yell at them for not knowing later. It was a tactic employed in Shishio-sama's ranks often enough.

Bauble, as I had dubbed the girl with gold and silver eyes, looked perplexed. "Do you not sing?"

Her friend, I labeled her Chiri since I didn't remember their names (assuming I'd ever known them, of course), muttered, "I don't see why that matters any."

Unconsciously, we began inching our way down the hall toward the stairs, and I noted a few girls in the other wing were also headed down to the first floor. "Actually, I've been told I sing quite well." Admittedly, it had been Chou and Soujiro who had told me that and one of them had been drunk at the time. However, I had been trained as a female for a good portion of my life and had heard enough to know I wasn't a terrible singer at least.

I found two pairs of eyes focused intently on me. "You can!?" "You have?!" Their words blended as they spoke over one another. I was, needless to say, a bit taken aback by their sudden interest and only nodded.

That was how I found myself tugged unceremoniously down the stairs and into the parlour by two almost total strangers hanging tenaciously onto the sleeves of my kimono. I allowed myself to be led, a rather bemused smile worming its way onto my face. The scene that greeted us only made that tiny twitch of my lips grow in strength.

Johanna stood at the center of a half circle of girls, almost all of whom looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. Miss van Haver stood off to one side looking as if she had a bit of a stomach ailment, not that this was any different from her usual expression mind you. Johanna was making such uproar as she went on about something or other to the headmistress that my escort had me halfway across the room before anyone noticed our presence.

It was my unfortunate luck that both the headmistress and her prima donna noticed our entrance at the same time. Miss van Haver looked as though someone had just taken a sharp object to her prized embroidery. If I had had any doubt that the headmistress was out to get me, her expression put them to a quick death. Johanna, on the other hand, sneered at me.

"Come to try your hand at singing, Karalyn?" I was amused by her attempt to sneer my name. Instead of being derogatory, she simply sounded whiny. "Well, I can always use another singer to compliment my talent as a soloist." It was just as well that Johanna and Miss van Haver both had their attention focused on me because at this statement, the entire room seemed to flinch.

I almost set my plans for Johanna aside in that moment, but reason reared its annoying and all too sensible head and I simply smiled. "I can't wait to hear you sing, Johanna." I didn't trust myself to say anything further without giving the game away.

Miss van Haver stepped forward and cleared her throat. Dutifully, the entire focus of the room shifted to her, and I noted right off that her expression had changed from one of anger at being thwarted to a sort of anticipatory pleasure. Not being as stupid as I look, as Fuji was fond of reminding me, I immediately went on my guard.

The headmistress smiled with thinly concealed dislike at me and held out a folder of music, "Being new, I'll have to hear you audition before I can place you in our choir."

Hmmm… Didn't Uncle Robert tell you that I have no shame? Embarrassment doesn't work when you don't care what others think. I smiled broadly as I took the folder from the older woman's outstretched hand, wanting nothing more than to snap her wrist out of pure pique. It would be so easy to just take hold and give a slight twist… She wouldn't even realize what I'd done until I turned to move away. Sighing mentally, I reigned in my thoughts and concentrated on flipping through the music. It had been years since I'd sung anything other than the bawdy snippets that Chou always wanted to hear or the lullaby that Soujiro often asked for on the nights when the nightmares were too great for him.

Johanna cleared her throat impatiently, preventing me from following that trail any further. I could dwell on Soujiro and his pain for hours, but for the moment, it was time to sing. Taking a deep breath to center myself and closing my eyes, I opened my mouth and let the sounds flow out of it. It was always like that when I sang. I didn't so much make the notes as simply let them follow their own will. Before I had finished the first verse, I was lost in a sea of soothing sound, floating along oblivious to the others in the room. Hennya had once told me that my singing sounded like my soul was trying to leave my body and dance on the wind. He was poetic like that sometimes. Of course, he'd also asked me if I was intact 'downstairs' because my voice was a bit on the high side. My Ohgama had answered that question fast enough. As the song wore on, my thoughts drifted more and more to my friends in the Juppon Gatana, and I felt, as I started the last verse, that I could feel their presence near me. I was almost able to convince myself that when I opened my eyes, I would be standing before them all in one of the many rooms of Shishio-sama's fortress. The feeling was so intense, so real, that I smiled as the last note of the song faded from the air.

I waited a few moments, basking in the sense of contentment the feeling had left me with, before opening my eyes to unpleasant reality. I was amused and only slightly surprised to find everyone in the room gaping at me. Some of the girls even had tears in their eyes.

Miss van Haver was the first to recover herself, "You knew that song?" her tone was almost accusatory.

I didn't bother hiding my irritation as the enveloping feeling of wellbeing seemed to diminish with her very voice, "I heard it a few times in Paris, yes."

"Hmph. Well you were flat on the high D. You may join the altos over there on the right." She looked as though she had swallowed something very sour as she said this.

I just nodded and took my place as the other girls arranged themselves in a half circle behind Johanna. They all wore nearly identical martyred expressions, while their queen looked slightly less smug. Johanna and her lap dog, Miss van Haver, consulted extensively on which piece to begin practice with. Finally, a quarter of an hour later, they decided on one I'd never heard before. I was only slightly put out by this. It meant I couldn't sing with my eyes closed this time, but my memory was such that the second time I went through it I'd be able to sing it backwards and blindfolded if necessary.

The headmistress settled back onto a divan and clapped out time for us. The half-circle began singing in what was, if not worthy of an Italian opera, at least not terrible enough to warrant the trepidation the girls had been displaying. Of course, there were missed notes here and there, but we trudged along well enough until about the midpoint of the piece, where the solo began.

From the moment Johanna opened her mouth, I understood why the whole group had all the cheer of a funeral pyre. I wasn't aware until that moment that the human voice could reach such torturous heights or be so gratingly harsh. Johanna wasn't just butchering the song, she was massacring her audience's nerve endings as well. It took all my training to keep singing and not curl up in a ball and cover my ears. What amazed me the most, however, was that the other girls bore it all stoically and with a minimum of flinching. Finally, the solo was over and the rest of us were able to finish the song without Johanna's aid.

Before the hour was up, we had gone through a total of eight songs, and I wanted nothing more than to slice Johanna into a nice precise pile of julienne. I had also come to the conclusion that the headmistress was wearing earplugs. That was the only way someone like her could have withstood such torment.

Finally, however, we were done. The headmistress dismissed us with orders that we were to meet in the entry in half an hour for a shopping excursion.

I had planned to go up to my room and regroup during the break, but I never even made it out of the parlour. Johanna's slightly hoarse, and more screeching than normal, voice halted me before I had gone two steps.

"Karalyn!" I winced and turned as though to face a death sentence, hoping I didn't look as trapped as I felt. She smiled at me, and I was unpleasantly reminded of a shark I had seen when I was a child. "I was wondering if you'd care to ride in my carriage while we shop." It wasn't a question.

I considered for a moment, then nodded, "I'd love to, Johanna." The sugar in my voice could have rotted all the teeth out of my mouth, but Johanna didn't seem to note anything insincere. Or maybe she's just so used to lies that she doesn't know up from down.

I smiled again and turned to leave, making it almost to the door before I felt a timid hand on my elbow. "Karalyn…"

Jessica was looking strangely unsure of herself, though why I was so sure it was strange, I don't know. I had only known her for a few hours. "Karalyn," she repeated, her lip trembling slightly.

I glanced at Johanna, and after verifying that she was indeed too occupied with a discussion of whether French or Italian lace was better, I smiled warmly at the redhead and nodded in encouragement. "I… I was wondering if perhaps we could look around together today when we go shopping…"

I glanced at Johanna again, "I already promised Johanna that I'd ride with her today," an apologetic smile was dredged to the surface, "Maybe next time?"

Jessica's face fell, and for a moment I thought she would cry. However, she collected herself with a firm nod. "Next time, perhaps." Her voice said that she knew the chances of there being a 'next time' were practically nonexistent, but that she had long accepted this as an eventuality. I was almost sorry for having to deceive her, but I'd buried my conscience in matters like this long ago.

I once again turned to retire to my room only to be waylaid by none other than Miss van Haver. My patience was wearing quite thin, and the ringing in my ears wasn't helping matters any, so I did the only sensible thing. Retreating as quickly as possible, If you're retreating, it's not running, I joined Johanna near a large window and dove into the conversation. They had moved from lace to general fashion and were debating French fashions versus American fashions. Thankfully, French fashion was one area where I had extensive first-hand knowledge, and I was able to elude Miss van Haver until we loaded up the carriages to head to the more 'elite' shopping establishments. The clopping of the horses hooves drowned out the tiny bit of residual ringing in my ears as we got underway.

I relaxed slightly and let the steady sway and buzzing city noises calm me. Surprisingly enough, the moment we had entered the carriage, all conversation had ceased. Praying to all the gods above for small miracles, I used the time to outline what I needed to accomplish today. I was almost certain it was a waste of time to try and speak to Johanna and her entourage about Shishio-sama's wisdom, but I had to try. I will make you proud of me, Shishio-sama.

I came out of my reverie when the coach began to slow. Glancing out the window, I quickly examined these new surroundings. A rather impressive and intimidating marble façade greeted my eyes, the carved pillars arching up to a sign engraved in silver letters with the words "Rose Park Promenade."

As soon as the carriage doors opened, it was as if some special signal had been passed between the girls. With almost military precision, the disembarking company was split into two formations. Only Jessica and I remained after this maneuver was completed. The first formation consisted of Johanna and her honor guard arranged in a precise design. The second, comparatively, was like a large pile of refuse containing those girls not on Johanna's high society Who's Who.

I almost felt guilty stepping into Johanna's circle, especially when Jessica threw me a disappointed look. It was not a pleasant feeling, and I brushed it aside. Johanna smiled triumphantly and en masse we turned to the nearest window. It belonged to a small antiques shop filled with lamps and musty furniture. Paula Davies, a plump brunette of unremarkable details, spotted something she wanted to have a closer look at, so we all passed into the dim interior. I noticed that the other group did not join us. Quite the contrary, they chose the furthest possible shop to examine.

You'd think they weren't welcome or something. I smirked to myself, and paused to take in an extraordinarily ugly lamp prominently displayed near the doorway. Under the guise of straightening the hideous red and turquoise shade, I ran my eyes over the wares.

Most of the items were fairly standard, a few more lamps only slightly less stomach turning than the one I examined were stationed at intervals around the room. There were the random, dusty tables and chairs one usually associates with an antique shop, as well as a few trunks and chests stacked against one wall. I was fully prepared to write the shop off as a total loss when something in the back caught my eye. Ignoring the curious looks of the shopkeeper, I moved toward it. It was hard at first to tell what exactly I was looking at, wedged as it was in the darkest corner. I reached out with slightly shaking hands and lifted the porcelain doll into the light.

For several long moments my mind would not process what it was seeing. The doll was beautiful, yes, but I had seen many beautiful dolls in France… No, this doll was frightening because of the nature of its beauty. Dark reddish brown hair, a color most unpopular in such a modern age, topped a pale porcelain face set with eyes of deep purple. That alone was enough to make my heart stop, but it was the expression that truly terrified me. The frozen red lips were locked in a perpetual, secretive smile, as though the doll knew something it would never tell.

Yumi… I ran my fingertips over the flawless face. The doll was dressed in a western gown, but there was no doubt that the spirit was that of my old friend. The doll even had a slight scratch on its neck where… My thoughts flew into the past unable to stop any more than I could stop the march of time.

Soujiro, Chou and I had always trained in a secluded clearing near Shishio-sama's fortress when we were together. That particular day had been warm and bright, with just enough of a breeze to keep us from overheating. Chou and I had been working on perfecting our blocking techniques for almost two hours, and we were more than ready to take a break. Soujiro, who had been running circles around us quite literally and singing outrageously silly rhymes, was also ready to rest. Before we could settle ourselves, however, Yumi had stepped into our little clearing clutching at her side. For all that she was a courtesan, the redhead had always been a terrible liar. When we asked her what happened, she muttered something about slipping, but we all knew that Komagata Yumi had more grace than that. If you wore a kimono held up only by the whim of gravity, you would be graceful too.

There was only one person who frightened Yumi enough to cause her to lie about an injury. One person besides Shishio-sama, that is. Usui. He had chased after Yumi for years, and it was partially over her favor that he'd lost his eyes.

Chou had immediately insisted that we all go straight to Shishio-sama, but he was always an idiot like that. Each time something like this happened, they would argue for hours afterwards about whether to inform her lover, or at least Houji. The result was always the same, though; Yumi knew that tattling like a child would only appear weak. "Besides," she would say with a smirk at me, "it's not as though I'm not used to pain… Shishio-sama is a very… energetic lover." She loved to bait me… not that I was a saint in that department either, mind you.

This time, however, Soujiro interposed himself between us before I could counter her with a witty response. "Yumi-san," he smiled winningly, and unlike the rest of us, there was no anger in him, "Yumi-san cannot continue to allow things like this to happen."

The older woman gave a very unladylike snort and patted the boy on the head. "You're quite right, Soujiro, I simply can't. I'll just explain that to Usui and we'll all live happily ever after." As much of a big sister as she was to the Tenken and I, Yumi never did have much patience.

Soujiro just smiled even more broadly, "I think your explanation will carry more weight if you emphasize a little more…" He turned to me, "And Kamatari-san was looking for an excuse to practice her knife skills."

That had led to a shouting match the likes of which that little clearing will never forget. Yumi had flatly refused to practice with 'that flaming half-man.' To which Chou retorted that she slept with one every night, so he didn't know why she was complaining so much. It took Soujiro and me a full hour to calm them both enough that we could pry the last bits of blonde hair out of her tightly clenched hands.

Our practice session ended with that unmitigated disaster, and we all went our separate ways to dine for the evening. It rained every day for the next week and a half. By the time we all returned to the clearing to practice, tempers were quite short.

Chou and I were just warming up, and Soujiro was still double-checking the binding on his shoes when we noticed Yumi leaning against one of the trees. Her hair was half torn out of its usual neat bun, hiding her face. There was blood on her chin, though, and Chou saw. He was across the clearing before Soujiro or I could stop him. I know he may act like a 'tougher than thou' bully, but Chou really had a soft heart for most of us in the Juppon Gatana… Especially for Yumi, whom he often called the Plum Blossom that danced among the Twelve Blades.

He was furious. It was the first time he had ever displayed such hardness towards Yumi, for all that they argued incessantly. He jerked her chin up, her hair falling back to reveal a badly split lip and swollen eye.

"WHY?" He screamed at her. She simply shrugged resignedly. "You say that telling Shishio would be showing weakness, but what does continuing to allow this to happen show? Ne, Yumi?! Answer me that!" She didn't respond; couldn't respond, really. "That's it! I'm going to Shishio and nothing you say can stop me." He made a move as if to turn, but then froze as a knife was suddenly pressed against his throat.

"Do it, and I will kill you," The redhead hissed, pressing the blade painfully against her captive's neck. The glittering blade wasn't hers, and as far as we all knew, Yumi had no weapons. I suppose that pick pocketing is a useful skill for a whore to have, however, gaining and opponent's weapon does you no good if you don't have the skill to keep and use it.

Chou yanked the blade out of her hand, quick as lightning, and twisted her arm up behind her back hard enough to risk dislocating her shoulder. There was blood running down the blonde's neck in a thin trickle, and his fury only seemed to be doubled by the red smears on his hand as he wiped at it.

Growling low in his throat, the sword lover ran his tongue along the perfect ear before him. "It would give me great pleasure to kill you right now. How would you stop me?" Copying her earlier actions, he pressed the razor sharp blade to her throat, watching the blood well up around the pristine steel. Yumi was so shocked that she simply stared, eyes so wide that you could see the whites all around, barely breathing. "You can't stop me." With a violent shove, Chou sent her flying across the clearing to land in a pile of fabric and flesh at our feet. "That," he ground out, spitting on the ground, "is weakness." Then he turned and disappeared into the trees.

The following day Yumi had come and quite humbly asked me to train her in the use of a short knife. Chou refused to watch the training, but when it was complete one of his prize blades mysteriously found its way into Yumi's trunk. The pair's enmity had healed, though both had matching scars on one side of their necks to remind them.

It was all so clear; I could hear Yumi's voice like she was standing beside me.

"Karalyn? Karalyn!" Wait… Yumi's voice had never been that grating.

I blinked and the world spun and refocused. I was back in the antique store with Yumi's doll gazing laughingly up at me and Johanna calling my name impatiently from the doorway. Gathering myself quickly, I turned to her, "My apologies, I was looking at this remarkable doll. I would like to purchase it. Wait for me?"

Johanna gave an exaggerated sigh, "We'll wait for you outside. It's so musty in here. Bad for my complexion." The door swung shut on her last words. I exchanged an amused glance with the shopkeeper, and then quickly completed my purchase. I opted to take the doll unwrapped and without a box. I could just imagine Yumi scolding me for putting her in a coffin.

Cradling the doll in the crook of one arm, I pushed open the door and stepped into the brilliant sunlight.

The rest of the girls were huddled in front of the next shop, a milliner's according to the sign. They seemed almost hypnotically interested in the display. You can imagine my disappointment when I peered in and found only a single dress in the window. Even more disappointingly, it was identical to the trunk full of dresses that I'd carted from Paris.

I must have made some noise of displeasure as I looked upon it because Johanna and Paula both turned to me and stuck their noses up in the air.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect a foreigner such as yourself to know beauty…" Paula began, but Johanna cut her off.

"This is the height of fashion," she drawled disdainfully.

"Is it really?" I commented thoughtfully, "I suppose I'm terribly fashionable, then…" I placed as much emphasis on 'terribly' as possible, "because I have no fewer than a dozen gowns in that exact style." Not pausing to take in their reactions, I turned and walked into the shop, head held high.