Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Oiran no Gaijin - "The Foreign Courtesan" ❯ Crimson Dreamer ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Shinomori Aoshi woke to find a pathetic creature sharing his futon with him. She was curled up in a fetal position under the blanket and was shaking in her sleep. Her hair was now dry, but it was still frizzy, uncombed, and scraggly-looking, and it fell over her face in tangled waves. Aoshi, laying on his side and facing her back, propped himself up on one hand and looked down at what he had awakened with, a feeling of detachment settling over him. His brain was putting together a memory of last night that would be acceptable to him. The memory was mostly of the act itself, about how good it had felt to him. But try as he might, he couldn't shake certain images.

The girl was crying - he had hurt her. Though he tried to push it out of his mind, he couldn't get rid of the picture of her face, streaming with tears and blood from her lip, as she begged him to stop. Trying to stop himself right there - in his life, there was no room for remorse - he replaced the image with one of her swollen lips as he pulled away from her. Yes, he tried to tell himself - last night, I paid for a night with the Fireworks Foreigner and I got what I paid for. His mind accepted the lie without complaint, but his heart wouldn't give in so easily - it was harder for him to accept that he still had a heart at all.

He frowned as he watched the girl struggle in her sleep - she was in torment over the mere memory of him, was trying to fight him off in her mind, trying to keep last night from happening again. He knew well what it was like to lie at night with traumatic memories. All the terrible things that had happened to him when he was a child still haunted his dreams if he wasn't careful. Once, he had become very ill, and while Hannya was taking care of him, he became convinced that his friend was one of them, come back to hurt him again. He shivered unconsciously at the memory of Hannya shaking him and trying to convince him that he was safe.

A lifetime... he thought, trying to keep regret out of the tone of his thoughts. A lifetime to make up for...

Aoshi couldn't form the word "wrong" in his mind. He was trying so hard to convince himself that, though what he had done last night was not exactly right, it wasn't going against anything so much that it would be wrong. That word, "wrong", was too heavy a term for it. His mind had already accepted that what was done was done and that he was physically none the worse for it, but still his heart struggled with the seriousness of what he had done. Certainly he had been with virgins before, but none of them had cried and pleaded like her. They had all been submissive, if not out and out willing to spend a night with him. Certainly he couldn't blame himself for being with a willing girl or a submissive one!

But what do you do about the one that fights back? his heart asked, prodding him. The one who tries with everything she has to keep from being touched... What then, Shinomori?

Be quiet, his mind said to his heart. She's in a place like this - it was bound to happen eventually. Better me than someone who would have really abused her.

Oh? Well then who was that with her last night? snapped his heart. Look at her, Shinomori. Just look at her face!

Before he could stop himself, Aoshi reached over and carefully turned the girl on her back. Her body uncurled itself out of reflex, but her hair remained over her face. Gently, as if touching something that was very fragile, he pushed the auburn locks away and looked down at her. There was still blood in the corners of her mouth and a dried trail of it down her chin, drawing attention to her bruised, swollen lips. Her face was blotchy, pale in some places and red in others, and her eyes were puffy and had swelled up from all her crying. Tears had carried her eyeliner and mascara down her cheeks in greyish-black lines and dried there.

He stared at her in barely-masked horror before he managed to tear his eyes away from her face and look at the rest of her body. Her throat was bruised in the shape of his hand and he noticed that her breath was still catching every once in a while. Trailing his eyes farther down and pulling the blanket back, he saw bruises on her breasts - small bite marks too. He swallowed hard and debated whether or not to pull the cover back any farther. Well, it was just as well that he know what the damage was. Sure enough, there was a hell of a blood stain on the futon and he felt sick, so he yanked the blanket back up to her chin.

What have I done? he thought, horrified.

His mind stepped in, pushed that thought out of the way, and forced him to see the situation through cold, analytical eyes. Was she still in good enough condition that she could work tonight? He knew he didn't have enough extra money to pay the madam for it if she wasn't. Clenching his teeth, he reached over and picked up the scarf that usually hid most of his face from the world. Maybe if he tried to make her look a little better, no one would really check. Then his heart pushed its way into the silent argument. His expression changed and he looked down at the girl as if she were a broken doll or a dead bird, so delicate and heart-rending in her last vestiges of beauty.

"Forgive me," he whispered, for the first time in so long feeling genuine remorse.

His mind and heart seemed to be quite detached now and there was only one thought within him.

It will take more than one lifetime to make up for this sin... And all my others.

Aoshi pushed conscious thought away, licked a corner of his scarf and started trying to at least get some of the dried blood off the girl's face. Nicole moaned painfully in her sleep and tried to bat his hands away, shifting her head, but since she didn't wake up, he kept trying. He couldn't get it out of the corners of her mouth without waking her, so he started on the trails of eye makeup. It would be hard to get the black kohl off her face without scrubbing hard, but he tried doing it gently and managed to make the trails lighter at least.

To get through to Shinomori Aoshi's sixteen-year-old heart took a lot, but Nicole had done it without even regaining consciousness. For right now, this short time, he was no longer the emotionless, icy-eyed leader of the Oniwabanshuu - he was just a teenage boy genuinely sorry for what he had done. When he had taken off as much of the makeup and blood as he could without waking her, Aoshi allowed himself to stroke Nicole's face. He took in the sensations he had missed the night before - how soft her skin was, how gently she breathed, how her hair felt like silk even when tangled. With his mask broken for now, the sixteen-year old wondered... What would it be like to kiss her for real?

Carefully and as gently as he could, trying not to wake the girl or aggravate any injury he might have done to her, Aoshi slid one hand under the girl's thin shoulders. While he wrapped his other arm around her, he slid that hand up to run into her hair and support her head like an infant's. Gingerly, he shifted his position so that she was sort of facing him, supported by his strong arms. Hesitantly, as though afraid he might be doing something wrong again, he brought her up closer to him, tilted her head back, and bowed his head. Her breath tickled his mouth and nose - he could smell blood on her breath and his heart clenched, threatening to break his control.

Tentatively, oh so lightly, he trailed the tip of his tongue along the curve of her lower lip, cursing himself as he tasted her blood again. Fleetingly, he let his lips make contact with hers, pulling back quickly as if he were embarrassed to be kissing her at all. They were so soft, he thought, even though they were swollen, bruised, and probably painful to her. Tenderly, he pressed his mouth against Nicole's, keeping the contact soft and careful. He smiled when he felt her breath catch out of reflex - though her mind was out of it, her body was enjoying the sensations he brought on. She twitched and he pulled back quickly - it was just a twitch, he realized. He closed his eyes, those ice blue eyes, and bowed his head again, loving how perfectly her lips fit against his and gently nudging them apart with his tongue.

Nicole was having the most wonderful dream, where before she had been re-living her worst nightmare over and over again and again. That man... She couldn't form his name in her brain - that would have made it too real and she refused to believe that he had taken advantage of her so brutally. That man had ravaged her body, making it feel like a living, breathing war zone, battle wounds and everything. But now another man was holding her in his arms, comforting her, touching her face gently, kissing her to make the pain go away. A smile twitched at her unconscious lips, then vanished as she sank deeper into the sweet darkness of unreality.

Aoshi, like Souzou, had never experienced a kiss like this. Before it had been about him taking and the girl giving - now he knew how nice it felt to give someone else pleasure. His heart was fully into this, poking at his mind to lose itself in the white bliss too, but his mind was folding its arms and turning up its nose. However, a tiny part of the back of his mind had processed the sensations and technique for later memory. Oh yes, this touch would be burning his lips for days. Sorrow twinged in his heart as he tasted blood in Nicole's mouth and his mind balked at the thought that he had caused it. At that moment, his sixteen-year-old self made a promise that he would make up for it, somehow.

He stroked her tongue with his one last time, made one last pass over the soft curve of her lips, then carefully lifted his mouth from hers. Her face was bereft of expression, but if he'd had to pick one emotion to describe it, he would have had to say that he saw the tiniest hint of longing on her lips. Nicole, of course, was feeling a deep longing, but it was a longing for someone else. She wanted so badly to believe that it was Souzou who was being so gentle with her, that he was soothing the pain in her abused lips, that he was - dare she think it? - loving her... Another unconscious smile curved her lips as her dream man kissed her cheek and laid her down as carefully as he possibly could. Aoshi slipped his hands out from under Nicole's body and took one long last look at her before standing up to put his clothes back on.

As he opened the door, he looked back at her - she was stirring.

----

----

Miku had risen before dawn and was scouring the streets of Edo again - it was now around nine in the morning, considering how far he'd had to walk to get from one side of the city to the other. The night before, he had gotten a tip that a few members of the Sekihoutai were staying at an inn a few blocks from the red-light district. It wasn't much to go on, considering how drunk his informant was at the time, but it was all he had. He could barely read, but he could at least match characters to each other. Looking down at the piece of paper in his hand, he studied the signs and banners lining the street carefully. This had to be the right street, according to the directions he had been given.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered to himself, starting off down the street.

The early shoppers were starting to stare at this young man as though he were something very odd - he was barefoot and kept stopping and staring at things. But Miku didn't notice the people looking at him any more than he cared - which was not at all. He was on a mission and he was going to find the Sekihoutai if it killed him! Finally, he looked at his piece of paper, looked up, and saw a sign that matched it. He couldn't read the kanji, but he definitely knew that the shapes on that piece of raggedy paper were exactly like the ones on the sign. Squaring his shoulders, he marched forward and ducked through the noren curtain at the door.

"Irrashaimase!" chirped a girl who looked like she was maybe eleven years old. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Hai," replied Miku, trying to look a little more cheery than he felt. "I was told that some soldiers in an army unit known as the Sekihoutai were staying here."

"Oh! You mean my brother's friends!" exclaimed the girl, her face brightening even more. "Sae! Sae! Go wake up 'nii-chan! There's somebody here who wants to see him!"

Miku held up his hands, trying to explain that he didn't want to disturb anyone who was sleeping, but the girl had already run off to the back of the place, calling for someone he assumed might be her sister. Well she was just a little bundle of energy early in the morning, he thought rather sourly. He heard a thundering noise and an eleven-year-old who looked just like the other one but was wearing a different kimono showed up. She explained in a very cheerful voice that her 'nii-chan had been very drunk last night - seemed to think it was very funny.

"Tae... Sae..." growled a male voice. "If you didn't wake me up for a damn good reason, I'm going to..."

The young man with the turquoise eyes cut off his sentence as he noticed Miku standing there.

"Oh..." he said intelligently. "Who're you?"

Miku chose to ignore the rude greeting, brushing it off to the fact that this guy had a hangover.

"Hasegawa Miku desu," he said bowing respectfully - if there was one thing he knew, it was don't piss off anybody with a hangover. "I was told that part of the Sekihoutai was staying here?"

Sekihara Touya cracked his knuckles loudly and yawned widely.

"Yeah, what about it?" he grunted, scratching his head.

"Um... I was hoping to join," Miku explained.

"You're gonna want to talk to somebody else about that," Touya said in a a grouchy, dismissive voice.

"Onegai, I need to speak to Sagara Souzou!" begged Miku, hoping he didn't sound too desperate.

"Huh?" another voice cut in as another young man in a sleeping yukata wandered in, having heard his name. "What did you want to see me about?"

Miku almost fell over in his haste to turn around and bow, introducing himself again. Souzou looked on in mild amusement as the younger man realized that he was facing in the completely wrong direction and turned around, trying again. Well, whatever the guy wanted, he thought, he was entertaining. He raised an eyebrow as Miku once again introduced himself to a wall and finally decided to give the poor guy a clue - he coughed politely. Miku did a complete three-sixty and then some, spinning awkwardly and falling over.

“Erm... I know I haven’t made the best first impression here---” he said hastily, figuring it was safer to stay on the floor.

“No kidding, genius,” groused Touya.

“Shut it, you,” Souzou snapped at his hung-over friend.

“--- but I was hoping to join the Sekihoutai!” Miku finished, flustered and embarrassed. “Y’see, I’ve done something I really regret and I was told---”

Touya rolled his turquoise eyes, stepped over, and hauled Miku to his feet by the back of his gi.

“Save it,” he interrupted, shaking his head at the younger man.

“Touya, go on,” Souzou said in a grouchy voice. “You’re hung-over and you don’t need to be dealing with people.”

The raven-haired man turned to Miku and bowed.

“You’ll have to pardon my friend,” he said apologetically. “He was very drunk last night.”

“So I heard,” commented Miku.

“Alright! Alright! I’m going!” Touya exclaimed belligerently.

“Now, did I hear correctly that you would like to join us?” Souzou asked politely, ignoring the blue-black-haired man as he stormed from the room, cursing.

Miku nodded.

“All right, well we’re going to have to get you outfitted,” said Souzou, his tone agreeable. “You’ll need to come back to our camp with us - after we’ve all dressed of course. Tae? Would your parents mind terribly if Hasegawa-san dined with us this morning at breakfast?”

“I don’t see any reason why,” said one of the eleven-year-old girls. “I’ll just put it on your tab.”

Souzou nodded as Tae scampered off to help with breakfast.

“Oh, pardon me, I haven’t introduced myself,” he said abruptly. “Watashi wa Sagara Souzou desu.”

“Er... I know,” said Miku, bowing awkwardly.

----

----

Nicole had opened her eyes just at the wrong moment - she saw his face and cold reality formed a huge icy lump in her stomach. She didn't scream - she couldn't scream. She was too busy pressing her hand over her mouth. In a hurry, she grabbed her kimono, tossed it on and belted it quickly, running from the room. That icy lump in her stomach had melted and now it just felt like putridly warm water sloshing around. She tripped several times and almost fell, but she managed to reach the back door and get out into the courtyard. Two seconds later, she doubled over and threw up.

"It was real..." she said brokenly. "It was real!"

She would have fallen to her knees, but she caught herself and headed straight for the place that was quickly becoming her sanctuary around here - the bath house. Not caring if the bath was hot, cold, lukewarm or whatever, she threw the door open and slammed it shut behind her. As it turned out, apparently some of the girls who were early risers had gotten the fire started under the bath house and the bath was steaming hot. Nicole threw her kimono down in the changing alcove and headed in to grab a bucket and washcloth.

The warm water was both soothing and painful, seeming to penetrate deep into her joints, drawing out the hurt, amplifying it for a moment, then washing it away. She cringed as she washed her intimate place - of all she had been through, she hurt there worst of all. Her stomach felt queasy again as she washed traces of his presence away, her blood and his... She couldn't think the word - it disgusted her and she thought she might be sick again. But there was nothing left for her to throw up, so she just swallowed hard, finished washing her body, and started on her hair.

The scent of lavender swirled around her as she poured a generous amount of the oil on her hair and started combing it through. She had naturally oily hair, but for some reason, the lavender oil helped. Once it was combed evenly and thoroughly through her hair, she reached for the shampoo. She couldn't really describe the scent of the shampoo - she just knew that it smelled good and that massaging her own scalp was soothing. Taking a deep breath, she held her nose with one hand and up-ended the water bucket over her head with the other. Then she wiped the water away from her eyes and fumbled for the conditioner. That was done easily enough and combed through once again. She rinsed in a hurry, bent over and flipped her hair so that she could tie it in a knot on top of her head, and got into the bath as fast as she could.

----

She stayed in the bath for four hours and fifteen minutes.

----

Miku wasn't faring too well either. Breakfast with three hung-over members of the Sekihoutai and their, thankfully sober, captain had been a mess. Touya and Kyo immediately started getting on each other's nerves like a pair of middle school boys, poking each other and swearing at each other. Kyo didn't want to share rice balls early in the morning and rice balls were just about the only thing Touya's stomach would tolerate - that didn't end well. Miku had sat there like a stone through the entire meal, picking at his food. He had tried to start a conversation with Souzou, but Souzou was too busy restraining Touya while Reichi held Kyo back.

"So... about me joining the Sekihoutai..." he said finally, breaking into the chaos with his soft, nervous voice.

----

----

That night, an eighteen-year-old boy closed his amber eyes and sharply flicked off the drops of blood that remained on his blade. The night wind blew his hair back, revealing his youthful face. Once night fell, no one who saw that face would live to tell about it. That boy was the assassin in the shadows - the infamous hitokiri, Himura Battousai. He sheathed his blade in one smooth stroke, not even having to look at it, and stalked out to the street. Edo's rich district was quiet - there was no sign of violence left behind, because there was nobody to see it. Inside the large house though, rich crimson liquid still dripped down the walls. The boy took a deep breath, clearing his senses of the smell of blood, and headed off to wait at the assigned point.

I wonder what they want this time, he thought vaguely.

He leaned against the wall that surrounded another large manor house, staying in the shadows and out of the light of the full moon. His ears were perked up and each of his senses was perfectly alert. His sensitive skin tingled with the touch of the wind, which also carried the clear smell of the night to his nose. Those amber eyes were constantly scanning the horizon in all directions, wondering which road it would come from. He hoped it would at least be on time tonight - it was about time he got a decent meal and a warm place to stay for a night. And if that warm place to stay included a woman, he wouldn't mind one bit.

Unblinkingly, his eyes continued skimming over the horizon, first in one direction, skimming across, then in reverse, doing the same thing. The wind blew his red hair into his face - he ignored it 'til it obstructed his vision, then he swore and brushed it away irritably. Annoyingly, the wind blew his bangs back into his face and he pushed them away again, growling uselessly at it - he still hadn't completely learned to control his temper. As if playing a game with him, the wind changed its direction and blew all his hair up in his face from behind. It reminded him of someone he knew a long time ago, deliberately annoying him.

----

On a mountain somewhere near Kyoto, a potter wearing a red and white mantle sneezed. Once. Twice.

"Heh heh... Yeah, I'm just that great," he said to himself.

----

----

The eighteen-year-old swore under his breath as he sneezed once, cursing whoever was thinking about him - it never occured to him that they might be thinking something good. But then again, since when had Seijuurou Hiko ever thought anything good about him? The boy's mood was rapidly going sour and he felt like slicing something in half just to release some anger and tension. In fact, his hand was on his sword's handle and he was preparing to take out a nearby fence post when it rolled up and surprised him - a carriage. He swore again - he hated being taken by surprise.

"Easy there, boy," chuckled the man in the brown Western suit. "You'll get your chance to vent some anger later. Tomorrow night if I've got everything worked out right."

Himura scowled and hauled himself into the carriage, sitting with his sword across his lap - whenever the government officials took that tone, that patronizing tone, it always led to something he didn't like.

"So where are we going?" he asked in an almost-belligerent voice, trying to maintain an edge of civility.

The man in the suit, Yotsuba Ranmaru, chuckled patronzingly again - Himura felt like he was being patted on the head and growled like an angry dog.

"To a place I think you'll like," Yotsuba said, looking at the boy fondly. "Ever heard of Himejima Kiyoko?"

"Can't say that I have..." Himura replied in a disinterested voice, looking out the window of the carriage boredly.

"Ah... Well I think you'll like her," Yotsuba assured him.

"I don't like anybody," growled Himura.

"You wait 'til you meet her, boy," retorted Yotsuba in a jovial manner. "And some of her girls."

----

----

Nicole was back in the bath. She had been dragged out and told to eat something, but she couldn't keep anything down, so she had gone back to the bath house. Sniffling, sweating, and crying were about all she could do without being sick again. Her mind kept raking her across the coals of last night. Why couldn't he have been like the Aoshi she read about in romantic fan fictions? Why did he have to be so... uncaring? Oh... her mind said, he doesn't care about anything yet, not about anything but fighting. She shook herself mentally again - if she was to survive in a cold, uncaring place like this, she would have to leave all her romantic notions behind her.

I'm just a silly little girl who can't hide behind her fantasies anymore, she thought angrily.

She took a deep breath, held her nose, closed her eyes tight, and sank down as far as she could under the surface of the hot water. In some bizzare back part of her mind, she felt a twinge of amusement, recalling a similar scene that involved her favorite red-haired rurouni and a pissed-off raccoon girl. But the bigger part of her mind pushed that thought away, remembering how miserable she was right now. She wanted so badly to sink down into the world of her fantasies, just like the hot water, immerse herself completely, and never rise back out of it.

Back home, whenever she had a bad day, whenever people treated her particularly badly, she always had that world to escape in. In that world, she knew all the people and they all loved her and wanted to protect her. She would go sit in front of her computer and get lost in staring at Souzou's picture. Having his smile to come home to, knowing that he would be there for her to say "good night" to, gave her a boost even on her worst days. She was running out of breath and was wondering if maybe she should just drown herself. Her brain screamed and she pushed herself up out of the water - she had known what it was like to drown and she wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

"I wanna go home," she panted, trying to get air into her lungs but at the same time trying to let it out.

She squeezed the hot water out of the knot of hair on top of her head and leaned back against the side of the bath tub, up to her shoulders in the water. In her mind, she was trying to be firm with herself, telling herself to put her fantasies aside and resign herself to the coldness of reality. Not every story has a happy ending, she told herself. As much as she would like to believe otherwise, more stories ended sad than happy. Somehow, though, she had always wanted to believe that her story would be one of the rare ones to end happily. She had done everything she could to make that happen - she kept smiling every day, trying to find the best in people, trying to believe that good things would happen to her.

"Nikooru-chan?" came a soft, musical voice, its owner Komagata Yumi stepping into the bath house quietly. "You're going to have to come out of there eventually. It's two in the morning."

"Go away," answered Nicole, feeling her mood flat-lining, then taking a dive for the worst.

"Don't you get an attitude with me," snapped Yumi - then her manner changed. "Mind if I hop in too? I'll keep my towel on."

"I don't care what you do," groused Nicole, looking off in the other direction.

"Listen, I heard what happened last night," Yumi said softly, getting into the bath. "We all did. It went without saying that you were a virgin when you got here, but... I've seen a lot happen - I've been here since I was about thirteen - but I've never heard a girl put up as much of a fight as you."

"So? What about it?" asked Nicole, her mood still sour.

"We're all proud of you," said Yumi in a firm, clear voice. "None of us would have ever had the nerve to stand up to Shinomori Aoshi like that. And we heard what happened between you and Sagara. How did you make him stop?"

"Well... I'm not really sure myself," admitted Nicole, her brow furrowing. "I just... Told him 'no'. And I kept repeating myself until he stopped."

"That's incredible..." Yumi said in awe. "And he listened?"

"Well, I did kind of slap him," Nicole said, sort of embarrassed.

"You WHAT!?" shrieked Yumi. "You're an idiot! Don't you know what would have happened if he had gone to Himejima-sama?"

Nicole shrugged - she was used to being called an idiot. Yumi was amazed, disgusted, and bewildered.

"Well, if nobody's done that before, there can't be a precedent, can there?" Nicole asked fearlessly, grinning her old Chaos grin - the one that everbody back home had learned to be wary of.

"Do you want to set one!?" demanded Yumi, brandishing a fist at Nicole.

Nicole's grin faltered slightly, but she pulled it back up with greater vehemence.

"I've always been ahead of my time," she said, the arrogance of Chaos rising in her - when she got like that, people would do better to stay inside before she got another bright idea. "I kind of like the idea of stirring up some trouble in this little closed-off hell of a world."

"You're the stupidest, craziest... and bravest girl I've ever seen," Yumi said finally, impressed.

"So are you with me?" asked Nicole, striking a dramatic pose while keeping herself decently underwater.

"Sorry, Niki-chan," Yumi said apologetically. "You're the only one around here with that kind of nerve. I say good luck to you though. And you can count on me to keep your secret."

"Thank you," Nicole said in her sincerest voice - her strength was back, though her body was still sore, and the girl called Chaos was about to crash straight into the world of Japanese bordellos. "Watch out world, Chaos is back and born to raise hell!"

A manic grin spread over the American girl's face and she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself as she hopped out of the bath, leaving Yumi slightly frightened.