Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Third Impressions ❯ Wives, Babies, And Therapy ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Third Impressions

Part I

“Oh, don't look now, it's Yumi Komogata,” Kaoru whispered. “She's my archnemesis!”

“You have an archnemesis, Kaoru?”

“Of course I have an archnemesis! You do too- that Shishio person you told me about!”

“Yumi is his lover.”

“Figures she'd go for a pyromaniac zombie.”

The annual RK Photo company party was held in a restaurant called Efaanite. There was a large private hall below said restaurant, but in contrast to the gleaming public are, the private hall was badly lit, dingy, and generally unpleasant. Still, every year, it was cleaned up, lit up, and beautified for the party.

Seated at the long bar on one side of the room, Kaoru and Kenshin watched the guests arrive. Kaoru was pointing out people she knew and making sarcastic, witty, or just plain funny comments on them as they came in, since she didn't know if Kenshin knew anyone besides Shaista Von Du. Not that she had told him his “ex” was coming.

“Oh, and that's Vanhilda. She's supposed to be Russian but she was born in Kansas. If she'd done some real research instead of watching old war movies she might be more convincing.”

Vanhilda had coiffed gray hair and a bad accent that was supposed to be Russian but sounded slightly Irish. She was wearing a long fur coat and ugly shoes.

“Why do all these models have weird names?” Kenshin asked.

“They want to stand out so they give themselves cool names. The ones that always stand out to me are the ones with normal names. The girl over there- the skinny one in the ugly dress- she's Sano's latest client. Her mom was a failure model so now she's forcing her daughter to live her dreams. Janice, I think her name is. I did a shoot for her for some kind of cream.”

“Your clients are probably more pleasant then mine are.”

“Have you ever fought with a snarky agent?”

“Have you ever had to climb out a vent because there are ninjas gassing the building?”

Kaoru stared at him, slowly sipping her ice water. “Ninjas gas people?”

“They were more ninja wannabes.”

Kaoru nodded in understanding. “Like model wannabes. They've got the attitude but no talent whatsoever.”

“In my line of business, wannabes are always a good thing.”

“Why? They're easier to...dispose of?”

“That and the fact they're not much of a threat. They can't really do anything, so anyone can handle them.”

“Isn't it a lot of work? Managing all these people, I mean.”

“Not really. My organization practically runs itself. All I really do is review reports and put things together. And kill people.”

“Fun. And I thought my job was interesting.”

They continued their light banter for a while, comparing notes on their respective coworkers. Kaoru didn't work with anyone else regularly; she only really dealt with Roma and the clients. Kenshin, on the other hand, had a whole host of allies who were as weird as he was.

Their conversation moved to their personal lives- more specifically, their friends. Besides Sano, they didn't have mutual acquaintances, but Kaoru was surprised to know that Kenshin knew Misao's family. Kaoru knew there had been some kind of falling out there, but Misao didn't talk about it. The two friends had been there for each other for a long time, and Kaoru knew that her family's inn was a cover occupation, but for what, she didn't know.

“Wait- Misao's family is ninjas?”

“Oniwabanshuu. Their leader is Aoshi Shinomori, a soul-eater. He told me that Misao decided she wanted to go into another line of business.”

“Misao told me that he'd had a feud or something with her parents. I had the impression she didn't actually want to go to college.” Kaoru remembered with a pang her friend's first year of college. There had been tears, sweat, and blood, but it had been worth it at the end when Misao had learned to smile again.

“Aoshi has never mentioned it. Although Aoshi never speaks about his personal life...I found out about Misao while he was really drunk...”

“Wait, you went out and got him dunk?”

“No, Sano got him drunk. I just happened to take advantage of the situation.”

“Right. You go on and believe that.”

There was a sudden silence as a new guest entered. Kaoru jumped up off her stool.

“Bunny!”

“Kaoru!” The two girls exchanged hugs excitedly. “You look fantastic! Marvelous! Superb!”

“So do you! When are you coming for a shoot, Bunny! I miss taking your picture! You make it so easy!”

“That's why I'm here, fool! I'm contracting with your company! And I want you to take my pictures! Every last one of them!”

“Ooo, what are we photographing!”

“The new Kamatari line! It's so amazing! And the Usuda line!”

“Yes! I get to see you and Kamatari and- did you say Usuda? I get to take pictures of important people!”

“What and Kamatari isn't important?”

“He's my friend so he doesn't count!” Kaoru explained. She grabbed the girl and dragged her to a bar stool next to her.

Bunny had blue hair and black eyes. Her hair was pixie cut, and her eyes were almond shaped. She was dressed in a knee length sheet dress.

“Kenshin, I'd like you to meet Bunny. She's a model from Onyx.” Kaoru explained. “Bunny, this is my...boyfriend, Kenshin.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Bunny said, giggling. “Kaoru, since when do you bring your dates to company parties?”

“The quality of the guys I date has improved dramatically ever since I started spontaneously kissing people.” Kaoru explained to a shocked looking Bunny. There was a silence.

“Oh my god, it's Rabbit!” Shaista Von Du popped up from behind the bar, a man with disheveled hair and lipstick on his neck stumbling away from her. Kaoru looked at Kenshin, who was slowly edging away and reaching for his restraining order.

`At least I hope that's a restraining order...and not a sword...how would he hide a sword on him anyways? I guess he does have...practice...on the subject of the concealment of deadly weapons...'

Shaista excitedly leaned forward, pinning Bunny against the bar. Bunny leaned back, almost flat against the bar in her attempt to escape.

“Rabbit, you're, like, my, like...eedol!” She said excitedly. “I totally, like, love you!” This chatter was punctuated by constant giggling. Bunny gave Kaoru a look that said help-me-before-I-lose-my-mind and answered Shaista nervously.

“Uh, you mean idol? Thanks. If you could let me up, that would be amazingly great...”

“You think I'm amazing? Oh my, like, God! I, like, have to tell everyone! And-” Shaista stared straight at Kenshin. He stared back with a murderous look. Kaoru flinched; that was a scary look. No wonder people were afraid of him.

“My restraining order says five feet, Shaista.” Kenshin said calmly.

Shaista pouted adorably, twisting a strand of platinum blonde hair around her hand.

“Are you still like that, Kenshin? Like, I, don't really, like, like it. You should totally be, like, nice to me!” Shaista whined. “Like, you're, like, mean. You made me cry!”

“And yet you still would not shut up.” Kenshin said, resigned.

Shaista left, mercifully. Bunny stared after with a glazed look. “Unreal.” she whispered. “She's so...Are there really models like that?”

Kaoru nodded solemnly. “Typical Class One.” She reached for Kenshin's hand. “Sorry. I should have warned you.”

“That's all right.” He reassured her. Bunny excused herself to go “schmingle”, as she put it, and left. Kenshin and Kaoru continued talking quietly.

Inside the restroom, Bunny wiped tears from her eyes and smiled evilly into the mirror. “So that I the Battousai.” She said. “Sorry, Kaoru, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...and this girl's gotta eat...”

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“Megumi?”

“Mm?” Megumi looked up from her pile of wedding catalogues, a pen between her teeth in an unsanitary, uncharacteristic fashion.

“Is it a bad thing if your dates get progressively weirder?” Kaoru asked despondently.

Megumi put her pen down on the table and set her notebook down.

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“Weird weird.” Kaoru said. “At he company party, my friend, who I've known since I started working here, turned out to be an assassin and Kenshin had to arrest her. I mean...it seems like he's rearranging my world every time I see him...and I don't know what to do with it. It's not like he's trying to do it, but...”

Megumi dropped the magazine she was looking at. “Bunny is an assassin?” She said, alarmed.

“Apparently she was strapped for cash and decided that killing people was the way to go.” Kaoru said. “See what I mean? Watching her try and stab Kenshin was weird.”

Megumi stared at her. “Kaoru! Stop stressing me out! I already have to plan a wedding!”

She gestured to the piles of catalogues, flowers, fabric samples, and wedding magazines around her.

“I am getting married, Kaoru. Help me!” With that statement, Kaoru was forced to critique every single thing in the apartment, including the things that didn't relate to the wedding like vase and their carpet.

After three hours, Kaoru snuck into the bathroom and called Misao. Perched atop te toilet and hoping Megumi didn't hear, she spoke rapidly into the phone.

“Hi, Misao, Megumi's going crazy so come and save me before she eats me, okay? Bye.”

“Kaoru! Come out of the bathroom and help me decide? Peach or pale pink with an orange hint?”

“They're the same, they're the same: Misao, hurry!” Kaoru reluctantly went back out to face Megumi's freak-out.

`Where is Sano when you need him?'

Misao took one look at the mess, at Megumi, and at a frazzled Kaoru who was eying the window and the fire escape beyond.

She got right to the point in typical, blunt Misao fashion.

“Megumi, are you pregnant?”

“No! I'm not!” Megumi said indignantly. “I'm a doctor! I would know if I was pregnant.”

Kaoru took the chance to dodge behind Misao and cower in the corner.

Misao rummaged around in her purse. “Here. Go take this pregnancy test.”

Kaoru gaped. Misao's tiny beaded bag was famous for having strange and impractically large things in it, including a variety of miniature power tools, but this was an all time low.

Megumi looked the way Kaoru felt, but she went into the bathroom while Misao and Kaoru set to work cleaning up.

They straightened the stacks of wedding stuff and pushed everything against the walls, so that the floor was clear enough to navigate. With a sigh, they collapsed on the sofa and looked at each other.

“Do you really think she's pregnant?” Kaoru asked.

Misao shrugged. “Not really. I just wanted to help calm her down.”

`Yeah, because possible pregnancy is so calming...hey, alliteration...'

There was a loud crash from the direction of the bathroom. Misao jumped up over the back of the couch and began furiously knocking on the door; Kaoru attempted to follow her and fell flat on her face.

Megumi cam out of the bathroom, clutching three used pregnancy tests in one hand and supporting herself against the furniture with the other.

“I'm having a baby!” She said. Then she fainted.

Misao and Kaoru looked at each other. Clearly the situation was getting out of hand. Way out of hand.

“Nice, Misao.”

“How was I supposed to know she was actually pregnant?” Misao yelled. “Just help me move her to a couch.”

The two friends set to work, laying her down in the bedroom. They were about to make some tea when the front door opened.

“Sano! Megumi's pregnant!”

“MISAO! SHUT UP!”

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He was going to kill Battousai.

Yes, he'd gotten over the whole must-be-the-strongest thing, but now, he had committed the unspeakable crime of forcing him to see his therapist.

His therapist. Aoshi didn't think Battousai needed a therapist. Why did the Ishin Shishi need a therapist? Why didn't the Shinsengumi have one when they all worked for the far more sadistic (to his employees) Saitou?

Bu apparently, after Battousai's questions involving Misao and her past stint in the Oniwabanshuu (the answers to which ha been coerced out of him after he was gotten drunk), he and others had conspired to have him “work out his emotional issues.”

He did not have issues with his treatment of Misao. He had done the right thing. There was no need to get anyone else involved. Threatening to show embarrassing photos of him if he didn't show up at the therapist's office had been entirely uncalled for.

Where had Battousai even gotten those photos?

Besides, he had to finish his interrogation of Kyle Wormwood. The man wasn't talking, his fanatic beliefs giving him the strength to ignore their threats. Battousai would probably be forced to draw the information directly from his mind, a long and painful process. Aoshi did not have the time to see a therapist.

But here he was. The woman, a Dr. Brown, sat before him, completely composed and unaffected by the fact that she was treating a ninja leader.

“Hello, Mr. Shinomori. I understand you have some emotional problems regarding a former member of your troupe?”

“No.”

“I was told you might say that. In fact, I was informed that you were very minimalistic with your words.” She flipped through her files.

“Now, you sent her away. Why?”

“It was for her own good.”

“How so? She was distraught about it.”

“The life of ninja is difficult and dangerous. Misao would not have been able to make it in that world. So I made her leave.”

“So, you think she was unfit to be a ninja?”

“Yes.” Aoshi wasn't going to explain himself to this woman. The facts were far more complicated than that.

“Why?”

“That is between Misao and me.”

“No, it isn't. Misao seems to believe that you didn't want her, or disliked her. She thought it was personal.”

“She is wrong.”

“I see. Let me tell you the problem here. You are protective over Misao- understandable. You have known her since she was a child. But your mindset has not adapted as se has grown- so you are incapable of recognizing her own abilities and rights. Namely, her right to decide her life instead of your deciding it for her. My advice is to sit down over tea and have a long talk with her about why you did what you did in detail. She may forgive you then.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don't need to explain it to her.”

“If you don't, she'll be angry.”

“Irrelevant.”

“So you don't care about her feelings.”

“They are not my priority.”

“Then I can't help you.” Dr Brown said. Aoshi nodded slightly and left. A waste of time. He had work to do. This woman had nothing to do with his business.

So why were Misao's words echoing through his mind?

“You are so horrible, do you know that?”

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Somewhere on the river that snaked across the country just north of Onyx, a fancy boat cruised swiftly down the river.

In the bowels of the boat, an expensive lounge was occupied by two equally evil people.

Makoto Shishio, the man who had replaced Battousai once upon a time, nearly died, and been bitten by a zombie while in the middle of a cured forest fire, was the owner of the boat. He was meeting a guest of less fame but equal power.

Besh, the leader of the elusive Order of Truth.

The two men were opposites at first glance. Shishio sat in a cushy throne-like chair, sipping wine and occasionally eating sushi rolls that a lovely woman sitting in his lap was feeding him. His clothes were finely made and his accessories were made with precious gems and metals. It was clear that here was a man/zombie who enjoyed luxury.

In stark contrast, Besh stood on the bare wooden floor, in roughly made clothes and nothing but a coarse wooden walking stick. He looked like a slightly eccentric hobo dressed in potato sacks, and didn't give off any of the aura that Shishio seemed to ooze. But the two had identical eyes: eyes that had seen too much and whose minds weren't all there: the eyes of madmen with power and a mission.

“I have a proposition for you that I think you will find most interesting.” Besh said.

“I would like to hear it.” Shishio said, reclining back in his chair. Yumi fed him a piece of sushi, and Besh began.

“As you know, the Order of Truth is the guardian of a certain prophecy and several artifacts of the Goddess. This prophecy mentions a man. That man is you.”

He paused to allow that to sink in. “I cannot reveal more unless we have an accord...but I can tell you that if we become allies, the Goddess herself will aid you. And she will do so through her sacred weaponry, which we hold.”

“So I get weapons. What do you get?” Shishio asked suspiciously.

“We get to fulfill the prophecy.”

“Really? Is that all?”

“We have a common enemy.”

“The Battousai.”

“He stands in our way. And he stands in your way. I think you will understand why it might be profitable for us to form an alliance.”

“Agreed.” Shishio said. “Now, what is this prophecy?”

Besh began to recite sonorously.

“A man of fire shall rule the dark, a woman of water shall bring the light, and the song of the Goddess shall be sung by her. In the hour of panic they shall give and be given. The song of the Goddess shall be restored in the song of the woman of water, and the Goddess's treasure shall be strung and oiled by her.”

Shishio nodded. “I shall rule the dark...but who is this woman of water?”

“The Battousai has a new woman. She is the one. She is no longer under our control, but that can be rectified.”

“Why do you need her?”

“To insure we can control the prophecy's outcome.”

“We have an accord, Besh. Bring your men to mine and we will see. The Battousai's days are numbered.”

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It was cold. Very, very cold.

Not that anyone else seemed to have noticed. Around her the music pounded, and men and woman in sexy clothing danced with zeal. The very air seemed to be saturated with passion and vitality. But all she knew was the cold.

Hidden in a corner beneath the jutting bar, she hugged her knees in a futile attempt to keep warm. Her clothes weren't helping either- she was dressed, like everyone else, for clubbing. Her combat boots kept her calves warm, but the tube top and miniskirt weren't doing much for her. Neither were the fishnets.

It was so damn cold. Somewhere, in the rational part of her mind, she knew that if she'd just fed more, she'd be fine. But that voice was drowned out by the feeling of inadequacy and depression and above all the bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold. She was sure that if she opened her eyes, her skin would be blue and coated with ice.

“Tokio?”

No. Oh, no, he was going to be so mad at her. She was such a failure at this! She was such a useless person! She deserved to suffer this cold, It was a fitting punishment...Why did he have to be the one to see her in pitiful, sorry state?

She opened her eyes and forced herself to act like herself. A fake smile graced her features, and with some effort she managed to stand up and discreetly cling to the bar.

“Hajime. How nice to see you. I thought you hated clubs like this.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking and her hands from trembling, but he noticed her discomfort immediately.

“When did you last feed?” The dreaded question. He was going to yell at her for this. They'd fight, they'd scream, she'd feed and she'd go, to continue on until they met again or she died from starvation.

“Paris.” She admitted in a meek voice.

“You haven't fed for three months.” He said. It wasn't a question, just a statement. She understood the unspoken question behind it: Why and how are you still alive?

“How could I? A girl's gotta earn her livelihood, Hajime. I've been in...Cancun...the beach was...exquisite...” She leaned heavily on the bar, panting from even the exertion of standing up. She suspected she was conscious from sheer willpower; certainly she didn't have the strength.

“Saitou! What are you...Tokio?” Great, now Himura was here. She could never understand how anyone could hate Himura, he'd always seemed perfectly pleasant to her. But then, she didn't really know Saitou's friends all that well. She didn't know Hajime all that well.

A sad thing, for a wife not to know her husband.

“You should take her home, Saitou. She looks as though she's going to faint on us.” She heard Himura saying.

It was getting harder to focus, now. Her vision was blurring and her senses were dull.

Warm arms grabbed her and moved her somewhere; Tokio was past caring who or what. All she knew was that it was warm here.

Saitou looked down at the gaunt face o f his starved wife and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

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“Hi, Mom.” Tokio whispered. “It'd been a long time since I visited. Things have changed a lot.”

She'd never known her birth mother. She'd died giving birth to her daughter. After Tokio had turned thirteen, she'd set out to find out about her birth parents. This park, high up in the mountains, was the most beautiful place Tokio knew; her mother had been buried here, under a sweeping weeping willow, alongside a clear, glassy lake. Leaning against the tree, trailing a hand in the water, she sat above her mother's grave and talked. Sometimes, she swore she heard faint laughter, or scolding. It was as close as she'd ever gotten to a message from the world beyond.

“I got married three months ago. Isn't that strange? Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. Remember how I like to tell stories, Mom? Well, I have a fairytale in reverse for you.”

She smiled, relaxing, letting her mind drift back to the early days. She'd just turned fifteen, and was very, very sick.

“It all started when Yaso died, Mom. She had been promised, if you can believe it, to a man who Sarah owed her life to. What nonsense that was; like anyone even does things like that in this country. I mean, they could have tried to ease into the modern world! But no, they made Yaso leave the convent even though she was sick. Probably why she died in the first place. She couldn't feed in the convent, but she would have hung on for a while longer if they hadn't moved her. That left the problem of the man who they owed the debt to, though.”

Tokio closed her eyes, remembering the day she'd found out. It had been just after her sixteenth birthday when it ha happened.

“His name is Hajime Saitou, and I'm his wife. It seems like a horrible thing to say, but I'm delighted to have married him. I like him-maybe even love him. Yaso would have been glad; the girl always did worry a lot.”

Her foster parents had been humans, and they hadn't known how to treat Yaso and herself, later on. How could they? They were narrow-minded and fanatics, believing that being a succubus was something you could stamp out.

A succubus was the female of a species derived from demons. Tokio could still recall all of the books she'd read while searching for some way to save her sister.

“A succubus feeds two ways; indirectly and directly. Indirectly she draws off of the emotions and thoughts of the people around her; the closer the person is emotionally to the succubus, the stronger their emotions are to her. This kind of feeding is short-term, and can be gone without. Doing so will damage the succubus's health to a point but can be bolstered with more direct feeding- intimate contact anywhere from kissing to sex.” - From the Encyclopedia Cuba

Once a succubus came of age, she needed to directly feed off of someone. Coming of age generally happened between sixteen and eighteen; the fewer succubae there were in an area, the faster they would come of age. Yaso had died from starvation. Tokio had been close to that point when she'd been married.

“I'm scared, Mom. How do I tell him that I have no choice but to feed from him? Stupid succubae marriage laws...but I wouldn't want to feed off anyone else anyways...”

No one answered her questions, and the only sounds were of the faint breeze rustling through the grass and trees and chirping o the birds. But she felt better after talking about her problems. Maybe today she would finally figure out how to talk to her husband about her feeding problems.

`That's going to be a really, really embarrassing conversation. I mean, I'm not shy about sex (succubae never are) but with Hajime? He'll so laugh at me.'

“Want to hear something really funny? Our wedding night was a total disaster. I was too scared to seduce him, and he was too honorable to even look at me, so naturally nothing happened. Ah, I'm hungry. Sorry, Mom, but the solitude is getting to me. I'm going home. Love you.”

Tokio felt a smile sneak across her face, as though afraid her current mood would smite it down for daring to be happy.

`I'll make this work, somehow. For now, I'd better get home before John and Sarah notice I'm gone and call the Adultery Police. Can't wait until my husband gets back from his business trip.'

Once upon a time, there was a girl who married her sister's widower for duty, not love...a girl in skimpy clothes and multicolored hair...a girl that others called a slut even though she'd done nothing to warrant it...

Once upon a time, two people entirely uninterested in marriage were wed...

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It was still extremely cold.

`Indescribable cold, cold like ice, like winter, like snow, like Antarctica, like liquid nitrogen, like Aoshi Shinomori, like...cold things...the kind of cold you measure with a fancy thermometer...the digital kind...Where do you buy digital thermometers, anyways?'

Someone was taking her pulse, grasping her wrist in his hand. It was a sweaty, clammy hand, definitely not her husband's. Tokio tried to pull away, but it was futile in her condition. Her blankets were being smoothed over her, tightly against he body. Someone was touching her face with those clammy, sweaty, disgusting hands...Who was in here with her and what the hell did he think he was doing?

A door slammed. Someone obviously felt the same way she did, because now there was a large amount of cursing and frightening whimpering going on. Hajime must have walked in on this person's attempt to molest her.

More doors slammed, and Tokio felt it would be best if she opened her eyes. They felt heavy, as those she'd been remade in lead, but she managed to open them far enough to see that she was in Hajime's apartment. The door was closed, and there was a noise that sounded suspiciously like screaming coming from outside.

`This is what happens when your husband's motto is Slay Evil Immediately. I don't think I want to know...at least my brain is coherent now.'

The door opened, and Saitou closed it softly this time. His wife was wake, but only just. She looked mostly dead as it was.

“Tokio. You're awake.” What was he supposed to say to her? Sorry you almost died because we have no relationship and only see each other every couple of months? She would probably smack him if he did that.

“Yeah.” It had taken all of her strength to say that one word; she fell back against the bed and was out like a light.

`How can she sleep so peacefully? After what that bastard doctor was doing, I'm pissed off, but she just goes to sleep. Maybe she didn't hear him screaming in intense pain.'

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