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Dec 10, 2011 : Format fixed

Speech – Thoughts / Dream sequence

Speech - Memories

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It took me a long time, but here it is. Notes on my profile. Love you all!

Disclaimer: RK is not mine. The only characters belonging to me are Ryo, Akira, Rina, Elizabeth and Anabelle. (Only one of them is here to stay, don't worry).

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Chapter 24

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It was wrong. It had to be very, very wrong. The skies were probably about to open and he would get stuck with lightning because of it. Yeah, that was what would happen, and then he would have nothing to worry about anymore, because he then he would be fried, and no-one cared about the emotional problems of a human-shaped lump of charcoal, right?

With that in mind, Aoshi Shinomori got up and stepped into the back garden. He took a deep breath and looked up to the heavens, awaiting his destiny.

Quite a nice starry night greeted him.

Damn, even nature was against him.

No easy way out then.

Maybe it was nature´s way of punishing him for going against it. Surely, that had to be it. It was just NOT natural to like Misao that way. Not when he had seen her take her first steps. Not when he had changed her diapers (It was that or playing house with Okon. Misao had won, hands down), and certainly not when he had hurt her so badly later on.

But it had happened, go figure.

Aoshi looked at the sky again, hoping to see some kind of small cloud carrying punishment from the heavens. Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirped.

Uncharacteristically annoyed, the tall man plopped on the floor, sitting cross legged, with his arms also crossed. And glared at the sky.

Suuuuuuuuure! Spend two years at a temple, meditating and attempting to regain the sacred balance present on all creatures, without sleeping, barely eating and hardly having any contact with the human race, and what do you get? Ignored! You got ignored! That's what you got!

The same chirping bird flew over his head.

*plick*

Inner Aoshi, comfortably sitting on a little chair with a glass on his hand, counted on his little fingers the reasons why Aoshi had deserved that little 'present' from the heavens above.

First of all, no-one had ever told him to go lock himself in that temple.

Second, he meditated all day. Attaining balance crap aside, you tell me what exactly meditating is good for. No answer? Exactly!

Third, it was stupid to expect retribution for doing nothing.

Fourth… he finally discovered he might romantically fancy a very pretty girl and what does he do? He asks for death! Nice, very nice.

Aoshi looked at the splat on his shoulder. And looked skywards. Okay, okay, he had gotten the message, loud and clear.

*Sigh*

Misao was like… his….. daughter?

Inner Aoshi jumped from his seat and gave the inner walls quite a kick at that one.

Okay, okay…. Maybe that was a bit much. If nothing else, he had been the occasional nanny.

But still, Misao was like….. his younger sister. Yeah, that was it. They had had quite a happy childhood together (and those were probably the only times he really ever felt like a child back then), and then….. he had left home to pursue his own path. He had come back and found her no longer a little girl. That was it, right?

WRONG! That WAS supposed to be it. Problem is, it just was NOT.

Contrary to normal belief, Shinomori Aoshi did acknowledge the fact that he was human. Chose to ignore it occasionally yes, but was aware of it nonetheless.

As a human being, he was aware of certain….. urges said human beings sometimes got.

Thus, his first thought had been that maybe his body was trying to make up for all the years of neglect. After all, revenge was something he could understand and fight against.

Unfortunately for that theory, even if Misao was a pretty girl, her body was not exactly the stuff men's fantasies were made of. She had a lean body yes. Petite but proportionate. Her legs were almost too long for her frame, but fitted nicely. And, thanks to the kimono, he had recently noticed that yes indeed, she had breasts. But… that was it, really.

If someone had asked a year before what kind of woman he would probably be attracted to (IF they actually managed to get an answer out of him, that is), his answer would've probably gone along the lines of….. erm….. Ok, so he had no idea what kind of women interested him. He was interested, mind you. The guy had eyes, and there had been quite a few occasions when they had wandered at their leisure. But thinking about what about Misao could attract him the way those other nameless women did…. It had taken a while.

And when thinking about it a little had ended in that too much rational analysis, he had known it just couldn't be lust or something along those lines. If it was, he would have chosen someone more….. curvy. Or feminine. Or older, as a matter of fact.

Damn.

Why couldn't things just remain simple?

Aoshi shook his head, and decided he better forget whatever this meant. Yeah, that would be the best.

If only he knew Misao had taken the same decision not so long before, and the girl was still waiting for it to work out….

He silently watched as Seta laughed while dodging a rice ball Misao threw at him. They were now in the kitchen, eating their stomachs off. Coincidentally, he had a prefect view of the place from where he was. That is, atop the big cherry tree, on the back garden.

Not even half an hour had passed after Aoshi had seen Misao arrive in the garden. He hadn't managed to reach any decision in that time.

He had the sudden urge to storm into the kitchen and make good use of the kitchen knives. He had heard Okon complaining that they weren't sharp anymore, but that didn't sound like a bad thing to him right now.

Oh my. This had to be SO wrong.

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Hajime Saitou was NOT a man in a good mood. Usually bad-tempered, today he was unusually vicious towards the entire human race. Since his world consisted, and would consist, of the police department for at least another 6 hours, that meant that he was given a wide, and I mean WIDE berth should he chose to walk anywhere.

The reason was the absolutely hideous headache he currently had. The day before, there had been a fire on the British embassy. According to plan, he did not send anyone until two hours after the fire had been extinguished. Although it was no surprise the police was late for everything, and really, even though a fire had nothing to do with them, the simple fact that the stupid man living there was a foreign minister was enough to cause a ruckus.

As if the blond pig did anything more than throwing parties.

Anyway, the fire hadn't been big, and the only un-salvageable room had been the studio. Seems that there were some important official documents there. Or some very important UN-official ones. Hey, it was a politician he was talking about, that seemed most likely than anything. Anyway, if they had gotten burnt then the gaijin had nothing to worry about.

And there came the reason for his stupid headache soon to be migraine. It seemed one of the guards had seen a guy carrying a bundle of papers coming out of the flaming building, by the studio's window. It seemed that whoever has set the place on fire had been an amateur arsonist wanna-be. However, it made no sense that, if it was a pre-meditated attack, only a part of the place had caught on fire, and that the main guy was alive. So, the target had been the studio specifically.

It all led to the same inevitable thought: he was going to KILL the weasel.

"That'll do nicely with diplomatic relations"

"THAT'S what I'm counting with"

Those had been her words. So, either she had sent an idiot to play terrorist, OR being seen had been a pre-meditated move. Oh, he would have word with that little girl, and she better have a damn good explanation for not having told him the whole story when the mini-ninja had irrupted into his house.

"Inspector Fujita..."

"Yeah, I know. Let me do the asking" Saitou walked past the police officer (who swiftly jumped aside) and entered the room. Time to relieve some stress then.

As soon as the door closed, four police officers jumped one on top of the other in an effort to reach the keyhole and listen to the carnage.

Inside, the sight that greeted Saitou was not what he had expected. Of the three thugs he had been planning to tear into pieces (figuratively this time, mind you), two looked like they might had actually WELCOMED the wolf's bite instead of the sound beating they had been through. The third one lay in a makeshift bed, moaning and trembling while muttering something about little girls.

With a puff of smoke, Saitou let his feet guide him towards the bloodiest of the men, who was sitting against the wall. Whoever it had been, they had done quite thorough job. The man was a mess from head to toe. Curiously, it didn't seem as if there had been much of a fight, but all the hits had been given at all the right places, few as they had been.

Stealing a quick glance to the report, Saitou confirmed that some tiles falling form a nearby roof had finished the job. The wolf whistled low, admiring the handiwork. If the reports were true, then there had been a street fight. Of course, the reports were always wrong. Those three men were just pathetic drunks who had, hours before the attack, broken into a house and stolen some valuables. Unfortunately for them, said house was only a few blocks away from his den and was, therefore, within his territory.

The three men shivered when they saw the predatory smile directed at them.

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Meanwhile, at the other side of the door, 3 of the four officers whispered among themselves while the fourth remained with his ear attached to the keyhole.

"It's begun! It's begun!" whispered the 'guard' to his comrades.

"I give them 15 minutes. 10 yen" said one of them.

"Are you kidding? 20 yen say that in12 minutes they'll wet their pants!" whispered back another.

The youngest one remained silent for a second, remembering the wolf's predatory face before entering the room, and then said "50 yen. 8 minutes tops."

"C'mon Kobayashi-kun! 8 minutes? NO way!"

"Well Masuda, maybe Kobayashi-kun is betting on Captain Fujita setting a new personal record or something" said the third one with a little laugh. Youngsters there days… really didn't know the value of money….

"Ok then Kobayashi-kun, I'll match your 50 yen and add 10 more! Hey! Hibashi! What are they saying?"

Hibashi, still glued to the keyhole, gestured them into silence and started his report. "Inspector Fujita just told them that…"

"…he would take no longer than 5 minutes. 100 yen." Came Saitou's voice from the keyhole. Hibashi fell backwards in shock, clutching at his chest in fright, while his terrorized partners dropped the money from the surprise. Mockingly, a puff of smoke came out of the darned keyhole.

True to form, 4 minutes and 12 seconds later, it was all over.

After a good deal of asking, beating and intimidating, it had all come out. First, it had begun as a band of thugs. Five strong men with big muscles and a lousy attitude. After using one of the thugs as an ashtray, five men had become one with a big metal pole and a knife. Since none of the wounds they sported looked like it had been made with a knife, it took a little more 'persuasion', wolf-style, to find out the attacker hadn't been as tall, nor had he seemed as strong as to do what he did. With a growing suspicion on his mind, Saitou had asked his ever-present eavesdroppers (via keyhole, of course) to fetch him the offensive weapon found in the crime scene and removed from… the tender part where the leader's lower back lost its name.

"So….this attacker of yours was wearing a hood and you didn't see his face, uh?"

"Ye…yes sir, we didn't get to see him. He attacked us for no reason, no reason at all!"

Suuuure….as if he hadn't heard that one before. Guys trying to place all the blame on other people just to walk out free were the kind he liked the least. And it was not a good thing to be disliked by the Mibu wolf.

"So….." Saitou had approached the thug sitting on the floor. "you're saying that…" he had taken a cigarette and lighted it with a precise movement. "…you were just walking peacefully along the street…" here, he had paused to inhale and then he dropped the still-lit cigarette on the thug's hand. And stepped on it. "…fresh out of a house you had just robbed, by the way…" Saitou had calmly ignored the scream of pain that accompanied his words. "…and that you were attacked for no reason at all?" At this point, he had pressed harder with his foot.

One of the remaining thugs (the one not confined to a bed), had tried to get up to defend his comrade, and had been rewarded with the tip of a very sharp katana directly between his eyes.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I do NOT like being lied to." Saitou had turned towards the thug at the end of his katana. "and I do NOT like being interrupted either." The golden eyes glinted dangerously and the thug had obediently sat down, like the little good boy he just wasn't.

It had been pretty simple to figure out. The attacker had been small but deadly accurate. Not much strength, but quite certainly a lot of technique to make up for it.

"Captain Fujita…" The door opened and Hibashi had presented Saitou with a small bundle of cloth. If someone were to look carefully, they would have seen three sets of eyes peeking through the partially open door.

Okay, so the cuts were too deep to have been made with a knife so…that left maybe a dagger or some other kind of stabbing weapon. It definitely had had some strength behind it, so maybe it had been thrown from a little distance away. It could also have been simply a piece of metal, or…

"…..a kunai." Came Saitou's disbelieving voice.

Yup, in his hands, framed by a red cloth (normally he wouldn't even care about the color, but the thing was a deep Battousai red that kinda annoyed him), laid a kunai, still stained with blood. He didn't even have to wonder, but just in case, he inspected the hilt. Sure enough, a tiny Oniwabanshuu seal revealed itself mockingly. Was it his imagination or everything around him lately seemed….. dunno, to have a connection with animals of the weasel kind?

"Hibashi" said officer had snapped into attention. "Tell Kobayashi to get these three into a cell for a week here on the charges of a lousy robbery, and add a month extra on top of whatever jail time they get for getting themselves beaten up by a weasel."

The officer, used as they might be to Saitou's antics, had blinked at this.

"Then… you know who did this to us?" asked a nervous goon.

"Oh, I almost forgot," had continued Saitou ignoring the interruption. "Hibashi, add a couple more months to that, for lying during an interrogation. And maybe three or four more on the charges of being stupid enough to hide being attacked with a ninja weapon."

Wide eyes all around. Seeing that he had everyone's undivided attention, Saitou had continued, just for the fun of it.

"A POISONED weapon, at that." Immensely enjoying himself, Saitou had twirled the kunai in his fingers. The weapon glinted the characteristic blue color of its particular mix of metals, one that only an experienced fighter could recognize for what it was. "Oh, oh. A blue glint. You see? There, let me show you. Yes, this is BAD." Almost offhandedly, he continued. "Hibashi, you might want to hurry with that trial."

"Err…Inspector Fujita…shouldn't I call a doctor first?" had asked a bewildered Hibashi.

"Yes! A doctor! A doctor!" cried the thieves.

"Doctor? Maybe three hours ago. Now? Only the person responsible for this can save them. Though if I'm not mistaken some ninja poisons are slow. Why, they could even live years before they die a gruesome and painful death…." A dramatic pause and another lit cigarrette later, he continued. "…if they are lucky, that is"

One hysterical man, a crying one and a fainted third, Saitou had exited the room, carelessly dropping his cigarette to the floor and crushing it with his foot. He collected his money (maybe he should go buy Tokio some chocolate) and waited patiently by the door.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" came the shrill scream from within.

Oh yes. The stress was almost gone. Whoever said working wasn't good for that?

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"Kuro! Kuro wait! Can you buy some tofu too?"

"That too? It's only been a few days! Have you been feeding an army Okon?"

Misao opened her eyes at the loud conversation just below her window. She had gone to bed really late, after telling Sou-kun everything that had happened in Saitou's house. When she had brought up Tokio-san and her assumptions about her, Soujiro had enigmatically replied: "Well, sometimes the right mix of sweet and sour makes the perfect sauce, ne? Not too sweet and not too sour". After saying which, he had cheerfully stated that he was hungry and dragged her towards the kitchen in search of nourishment.

It's a fact that depressed, confused, bored and/or all of the above mentioned people find temporary solace in food. Apparently, Soujiro had been either quite bored (she had to admit she hadn't been the most interesting person at the moment), or the guy hadn't eaten in days, because in less than two hours the pair had finished with every scrap of food and leftovers they could find in the place, including some from a week prior that Misao, had she been in her right frame of mind, wouldn't have touched even with a ten-feet pole.

After that, she had hauled her round self upstairs.

It would be a lie to say she that had been sleeping when Okon and Kuro's conversation happened, because in those 5 hours all she had done was to turn around in bed, alternately kicking the covers and pulling them over her head. During their impromptu feast, she had noticed Soujiro looking at her quite a few times, as if trying to read her or find an answer to something. A couple of times he had opened his mouth as if to ask something and instead had had bitten on something or the other. There had been a time he had actually stuffed a dumpling into his mouth so violently that he had almost chocked.

Thoughts of his behavior, added to her already confused brain and coupled with worry over Kouga's mission, had kept her wide awake. It was obvious Soujiro had wanted to ask her or tell her something, but what? It wasn't as if he couldn't tell her anything he wanted the moment he wanted (the smiley already verbally bombarded her anytime he chose to). Then again, she had asked him to wait until the next day, hadn't she? Soujiro Seta wasn't anything but kind in that aspect. Who would have thought, being the Tenken and all…. No, no, having been the Tenken would be more accurate. Same as Himura having been the Battousai. Anyway, it made her feel rotten. His attitude was a direct consequence of HER attitude, caused by that oh-so-STUPID encounter near Saitou's house.

The mere thought of it made her bit her lip with such force she nearly yelped in pain. As with all things, it is only hours later that you can effectively analyze the happenings with a clear mind. And analyze it she did. Over and over and over again. Every time, she found something else she could have done, something she should have done, something she should have remembered…. And that infuriated her.

Add that she was sick with worry about Kouga, and the feeling that Aoshi had seen her and there you go. Quite an eclectic mix of feelings and sensations, perfect for guaranteeing an night of insomnia. Oh, and the amount of food she had wolfed down might have had added to it, but just a little.

Let's go for parts. First and foremost, there was Kouga. She had been forced to go into a lot of explanations for Saitou to accept the very idea of a plan coming from her. Long story short, Kouga was there to plant information within the terrorist group. That was because, if he had been there as a mole, there was a high chance of him being caught, ninja as he was. Saitou had surprisingly agreed, as a new guy was always a prime suspect in information leakages.

Now, she knew little or nothing about that stupid organization. Ever since Kouga left, he had only contacted her twice. Once in her office, the other time via the little note the day before. It had been something they had discussed quite a lot before he had left, and they had both agreed it was best to have the least amount of contact possible. After all, who knew what was happening inside that place.

The lack of news had been expected, but even so, she worried. If something happened to Kouga, there would be no way for her to know. He had stubbornly refused to have someone sent with him, saying that two newbies were too much of a risk. She had had to reluctantly agree.

Tiredly, Misao kicked the covers away from her and sat up. The overly-large mirror showed her the reflection of a girl with quite a messy bed-head, overly-pale skin and quite big bags under her eyes. Then came the obvious signs of the fight she had had the day before. Her nose was tender, her upper lip hurt and her left cheek was all black and purple. She looked like hell, and felt like it too.

Now that it was all over, she felt like a fool for breaking down like that. She couldn't really say it had been nothing, but she guessed it hadn't been such a big deal after all. That is, critically speaking, the emotional side was a completely different matter altogether. Misao moved to the side, and her breasts made their discomfort known. Frowning, Misao opened the neck of her yukata a little and peeked inside. All the lower part of her left breast was black and blue, and it throbbed painfully if she lifted her left arm. Her right breast was thankfully less damaged, but still had quite a nasty swell on the top part.

The girl groaned, annoyed with herself. Great, now what? To add insult to injury, the black mark on her left breast had the shape of a hand, mocking her. She let go of the fabric, cursing her complete idiocy the day before. She had had quite a few of those harassing situations when she was traveling alone (as any girl who lured men to deserted parts of the woods with her voice was bound to, there was no need to play innocent), but she had always managed. Mostly because the guys became more infuriated and less lustful once they saw who was actually the owner of the luring, sexy voice. It had been the opposite this time, and Misao was finally beginning to understand that, even if she was a ninja (and not a bad one, let me remark that), she was still a woman. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. Right now, it sucked.

And some other things sucked too. What had Aoshi been doing in the garden the day before? Not meditating, that's for sure. She had felt him for quite some time, but hadn't been able to tell who it was until that last moment. She had thought it was Sou-kun. Thinking back a little, that had been just stupid. Sure, their ki had some similarities (they were both tightly controlled, for one thing), but there was just no way they could be mistaken one for the other. So, back at the matter at hand. What had he been doing there? First he threatens Sou-kun, then she insults her (kinda… whatever), THEN he has the balls to sleep it off as if it was nothing when she is dying to understand what happened and even decided to talk first and kill him later and THEN, as if all that wasn't enough, he witnesses one of the worst emotional breakdowns she'd had in a while.

Add that to the quite long list of his past crimes (no, not the killings. I mean the ones that really matter) against her and… you get one pissed Misao. The man had evolved from puzzle to enigma. It just didn't make sense for him to flat-out confront Soujiro when he would've normally just ignored him, regardless of their past. The insults or whatever were more like him (maybe that was why he didn't speak too much… maybe he tended to say too much stupid stuff….) in some way, but… was he really so callous as to hurt her like that and then just go to sleep as if nothing had happened? Maybe she should've woken him up, even if only to throttle him later. At least that would have meant not having the uncertainty any longer….

Okay, no point in dwelling on what-ifs any longer. A good hot soak in the bathtub would help ease the pain in her chest. Because the bruises were the cause for that strange feeling in her breast, right?

Then, to get some ointment. After that, she had a long day ahead of her, including some really nasty things she REALLY wasn't looking forward to.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"One of those, and a couple of those ones too. Do you have any white ones?"

"Aren't you the lucky one? I finished them just an hour ago. Shall I add a couple?"

"Yes! Make that four boxes of white ones. You always seem to be out of them, so I better buy extras, just to be sure"

The girl nodded and added four boxes of white chocolate to the already enormous pile of boxes on the counter. She smiled at the young man in front of her, who was currently rubbing his hands in anticipation.

"Here you are Kuronami-san. And a treat, for being my best costumer"

Ryo eagerly grabbed the chocolate bonbons and just as quickly, stuffed one into his mouth.

"Dank yow, Midabi-zan!" The name actually translated into Minami Rina, but she had stopped caring whatever the handsome young man called her in his chocolate-induced drunkenness. It was delightful to see a person who appreciated her chocolates so much. Smile still into place, she waved to the green-eyed man as he left. He was such a dear. She really would have to thank Tokio-san next time she saw her, just for introducing her to her best costumer. And it hadn't even been a week!

Actually…. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his last purchase. He had arrived late at night the day before, just when she had been cleaning the shop to close it. Maybe she was younger than him, but she had been making chocolates for years now and, much as a waitress in a bar did regarding to sake, she recognized the multiple reasons her costumers might have for seeking chocolate so desperately. It had almost broken her heart to see him wolf down an entire box before starting to laugh. Oh, what a bitter laugh it had been. He had bought ten more boxes of chocolate, without even seeing what he was buying. Those had been the leftovers from the day, really, and she had told him so, apologizing there wasn't any of his favorite white chocolate. He had paid with a shrug and left the shop, but not without bowing deeply first and muttering an apology.

She hadn't been able to sleep properly.

And when he had entered the shop that morning, smiling sheepishly, a strange sense of accomplishment had filled her.

Hey, those had been her chocolates, right? Not her mother's, the ones everyone loved, but hers. Granted, he had only bought them because they were the last ones (mother's always sold first, it was something she had grown used to), but today he had asked for the same ones she had given him the night before!

Rina smiled while grabbing more ingredients, and was twirling in happiness when her mother entered the shop from the house. The girl tried to stop herself in mid-twirl. However, the happy momentum had been so big that poor Mrs. Minami found her only daughter sprawled on the floor, kimono caked with chocolate.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Ahh, Misao-chan, wait!" Said girl turned around, toiletries in hand, to look at the one calling her. A certain Seta Soujiro.

The Oniwabanshu no Okashira sighed. She had said to wait until the next day. It was bound to happen, she knew. But couldn't Sou-kun have just waited until she got a bath first?

"tsk, tsk. Don't give me that puppy face, miss!" The serious impersonation of a mother hen made Misao forget her dread of the conversation bound to happen and laugh at the Tenken, who in turn looked at her, hurt.

"Can't it wait until I take my bath?" She said, motioning with her head to the bucket she carried.

"Oh no, it can't. I've waited forever for this. C'mon!" Misao could only let herself be led by the arm towards whatever destination Soujiro had in mind.

Soujiro adjusted his grip on her arm (she was trying to wiggle free) and entered her office. Smiling an impossibly big smile, he made her sit on a chair, and he sat directly in front of her, blocking the exit.

Misao scowled at this. Soujiro only added teeth to the smile.

"Fine, fine, what is it?" said Misao, in an effort to play dumb.

"What is it, she says…" Breathing deeply, Soujiro decided to go right to the heart of the matter. "It WAS him"

"I know, I know" was Misao's only answer.

"Aaaand?" prompted the Tenken.

"And? Nothing. What do you want me to do?" Stubborn women…

"Didn't you feel anything… weird coming from him?" Like….dunno, jealousy coming off him in tsunami-sized waves?

"He IS weird per se" huffed Misao. She knew where Soujiro was trying to get to. And she didn't want him to.

"Misao…"

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but…"

"You don't want it, and can manage alone. There is no need for me to worry, it isn't as bad as it seems, you've got everything under control and things are actually going more or less according to plan, right?" Soujiro recited, almost as if reading from a textbook. If not for kinda serious expression he had.

"Ah….." Well, said like that…..

"Look Misao-chan, I don't want to interfere with your life or anything. I'm sure you know what you're doing, but you also have to think about your position" said the Tenken, waving his index finger in front of her face.

"Eh?"

"You're plotting to stop a big terrorist organization, and it just isn't good to estrange your allies like that"

"I'm not. He's doing it himself"

"Ara…and here I thought you were the only one who knew how to make him listen to reason" Cheap psychological tactic, but maybe it'd work.

"Wrong person. The one you're looking for has red hair and happens to be a male, regardless of appearances" MIsao said bitterly. Soujiro blinked at that.

After a few moments, Misao sighed. "I know he could help me a lot, but I doubt he would approve of my plan."

"Well, you're using yourself as bait. I'm not sure I agree with that myself" Soujiro said, before registering the look Misao was sending him "I said agree, not approve. Stop looking at me like that, you're making me scared"

As Misao blinked, Soujiro got up and headed for the door. Before opening it, he stopped and addressed her, without turning back. "I just thought that this way of handling things isn't like you, that's all"

Misao frowned, feeling a little angry. "Like me? What is that supposed to mean? Misao is the little girl that takes everything in stride and doesn't let anything faze her? Happy-go-lucky Misao?"

Soujiro turned around. "Okay, so I haven't known you for a long time. Big deal. I just thought your eyes were more alive before you started this" he said, looking directly at her eyes.

"…alive?" She was about to ask what he meant, but then suddenly discovered she didn't need to. Of course it would seem that way. She had cried more lately than she had in all her teenage years, hormonal changes and all.

"So? What do you suggest I do? Go back to pinning about him? Go back to being treated like the little girl he obviously considers me as?"

Ahhhhh, the truth came out. Not that Soujiro hadn't known it before (pretty obvious, it was), but having her saying it out loud was definitely a good thing. Apparently, she had noticed her words too, because she blushed.

"I suggest dealing with it Misao-style" Soujiro said with a wink. And he left.

Misao made her way to the bath. Had she really changed so much over this? The only thing she had wanted was to free herself from that unrequited love. Seems she had managed to lose a little of herself in the process.

She took a deep breath, and sighed just as deeply. Sou-kun was kind of right. Lately, Aoshi had become even more aloof. She barely saw him, and their training had been all but forgotten in the last days. And he had been getting better!

She wanted to get over her feelings for him, not to lose him altogether!

As she scrubbed her arms, the girl recalled Soujiro's words. And couldn't deny them.

Finding the correct balance within yourself is difficult and takes a couple trial and errors, plus, it takes a hell of a lot time to do. Maybe she had been forcing herself.

Of course, that didn't mean she would just forget what had happened, or how much he had hurt her with his words, the night of the fight with Soujiro. It just meant she would deal with it, Misao-style.

He thought of her as a little girl? Well then, Aoshi was going to find out just how much of mischievous little Misao she still had in her.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Ryo shifted his packages carefully on his arm, and munched into yet another bonbon. It was too early to do any work, and too late for his first mouthful of chocolate. His grandfather had insisted in re-doing the Tokyo's restaurant blueprints to match Misao-san's every requirement, and so, had banned his grandson from his study. He had been demanded to 'Organize all the other details necessary to finish the merchant thing as soon as possible'. Ryo had opened his mouth to speak, but his grandpa has already caged himself. The door only opened once after, and it was to let Okina-san in.

Since all the papers he needed to work with were inside the study, Ryo had decided to take a little vacation.

He had really been a mess the day before. Call him stupid (he already did) for thinking about what had happened over and over again, but sometimes he couldn't help himself.

The story was quite simple actually. He had been introduced into British high society at 15. Before that, he had never had any real contact with the outside world. Tutors came by the mansion every day to torture him with boring lectures about History, and Latin, and French and Math and Music and…. A lot of stuff, actually. At noon, mother always reserved a couple of hours to teach him Japanese language, customs and history. The only lectures (if they could be called that) he ever liked.

He had been quite a sheltered boy, he had later realized.

Of course he had been excited when the time to go out into the real world had come. Beautiful ladies everywhere, elegant clothes, fancy ornaments… the ballroom had seemed like it belonged on a fairytale rather than on the small mansion. He had taken to the lifestyle like a duck to water.

It had not been until SHE appeared that he had woken up from his fantasies.

Elizabeth. At first everything had been perfect. She had been beautiful, smart, talented… everything he could have possibly wished for and more. It hadn't really mattered that her family's business had not been doing well, who cared about that, right? Oh, there had been talk, but he hadn't really given it much attention. Oh yes, she had talked a little about her family situation, but had never asked anything of him, instead blushing prettily everytime he asked her. Which had only made him crazier about her.

After his eighteenth birthday, he began thinking about proposing. Ha! What an idiot! They had known each other for a grand total of four months by then, two months if you wanted to count since the first time she had approached him and they had had a conversation that wasn't about the weather or the foolish pleasantries well-bred people exchanged. One month since he had first danced with her and noticed the way her eyes reflected the light. One week if you wanted to sum up all the time they had actually spent together.

Yeah, head over heels in love was as good description as any.

She had hardly ever talked unless asked directly. She had smiled a lot and averted her eyes from his demurely. They had never had a disagreement, and he had foolishly thought it had been because they were made for each other and that they would spend their lives living happily ever after!

He had finally decided to propose on a lovely March evening. He had gone to her modest house and waved off the maid's offers to wait while she warned the young miss who was in the back garden. It had been his second time there and he already knew his way well enough to go searching for her on his own, having memorized the layout the first time he had been there. As he memorized everything related to her in any way. He had even bribed the maid to keep quiet about his presence.

Nervous as only someone about to propose to the love of his life can be, it wasn't until he was round the corner that he heard the voices.

"Oh Anabelle, I'm so glad mother changed her mind!" It was Elizabeth talking. Oh, her voice had sounded like the angels, and he hadn't wanted it to stop, so he hadn't made a move to reveal his presence.

"Well, you do have to admit he is quite a catch! There was just no way Madam Carlisle would have said no to the idea of him courting you" Anabelle Righter, Elizabeth's confidant and quite a pretty lady in her own right. Of course, she didn't hold a candle to the young miss Carlisle. They were talking about courting. Did they mean him? Probably. The idea brought a smile to his lips.

"Well, yes….. but he isn't as rich as…. Well, you know" a tinker of teacups and a sigh. Ryo's heartbeat accelerated. He hadn't liked the direction this conversation had taken, and oh, how right he had been.

"She was actually considering that match seriously?"

"I'm afraid she was. You know how father's business has been in financial trouble, and she told me more than once that a marriage could change it all"

"Well, you know it is true. It would change things dramatically. But still, even if it was a financially convenient marriage …."

"I know, I know. She said dire situations called for extreme measures. But I'm just so glad this little episode is over! I never quite understood mother's reasoning until yesterday"

"Oh? And what was it?"

"She said his father had been a loner. Quite rich and handsome, but not too socially active. Mother had wanted to marry him, and it was all going beautifully until his parents sent him on a trip to 'broaden his horizons' and 'find new markets to expand the business' ha!" Ryo felt cold. That derisive laugh hadn't sounded like his Elizabeth at all. It didn't make sense and yet, he felt his heartbeat accelerate with dread.

"Father had been quite rich at the time, and Mother had settled for second best without even thinking too clearly. Years later, Mr. Farrington returned, with a JAPANESE wife and a half-bred son, of all things!"

"It sounds like a fairy tale gone wrong. Poor Madam Carlisle… it must have been terrible for her. I understand now why she insisted so much on having you get Farrington's attention. You should have been Mr. Farrington's daughter!"

"But oh! The very idea is so repulsive! Imagine that!, Me, marrying the son of that Japanese barbarian? Every time he forced to tell him about my family made me so embarrassed! He could be considered handsome, I'll admit. However, his bloodline is completely unsuitable. It is disgusting how he goes around with his head held high, as if he was better that everyone else!"

"I know what you mean. If only he wasn't the heir to the Farrington fortune….but unfortunately, his father went mad while at Japan. I've heard he refused to listen to reason and return, and if not for the untimely death of his parents, then Mr. Farrington would've stayed there" This last thing was said in an scandalized stage whisper.

"I'm so glad Mr. Josephson has caught mother's attention. Now THAT is a…."

He couldn't listen anymore. He had turned around and left the place in silence. After that, he had kept to himself at the parties and listened closely. And oh, he had understood. The looks, the silences, the less than sincere smiles... How had he never noticed before?

And it had been then when he understood why he had been tutored, and why had his mother always had the time to tutor him herself, unlike all other society ladies. Her reluctance to go out, why she showered him with attention even though he wasn't a child anymore…

It had been after his mother died sometime later that he had asked his father for permission to go to Japan. His father had looked at him intently, and sighed. After a long while, he had been invited to sit and listen to a story.

"When I was young, my parents allowed me to travel around the world. I guess they were sick and tired of me not showing interest in the business and thought traveling would do me good. And it did, just not in the way they wanted. When I went to Japan, the only thing I could think about was how glad I was to be on a place I felt comfortable in. Don't look at me like that, I was your age, and sick of being treated like a piece of meat on a golden platter.

" I wasn't planning on ever coming back. Your grandparents were furious, and threatened to disown me. Frankly, I didn't care. I had already met your mother and married her that same year. I received a letter from mother, begging me to return and leave 'that woman'. I never wrote back after that.

"Then, when you were born, I found out your mother had sent them a letter informing them of your birth. Yukiko was always a kind woman and she often blamed herself for the rift between my family… When your grandparents died in that carriage accident, your mother handed me their will and a letter. They asked me to return to England with both of you and continue their legacy with their blessings. I didn't want to, but Yukiko soon convinced me."

At this point, Mr. Farrison had gotten a faraway look on his eyes, and he no longer seemed to remember his son was in the room

"I have often wondered if things would have been different if I hadn't done some of the things I did. Your mother became sickly upon arriving here. The weather was too cold for her… I always said we should've gone back…. But she wouldn't hear of it. Maybe she would be alive if not for me bringing her here. She was never well-received here, you know. No, she was scorned for her heritage, but still she wouldn't budge. Maybe things would have been different if I had done otherwise, but I would do everything all over again if that meant sharing my life with such a wonderful person again."

His eyes had focused on his son.

"Go, my son. Begin anew and find what you're missing. Your grandfather's name is Akira Miyamoto. He has been a business partner for quite a while now and will be more than happy to receive you in his house. Now, listen to me"

His voice had dropped an octave, and his eyes had pierced the young man's soul.

"I always knew the Farrington name would die with me and I'm glad it will. Your grandmother's maiden name was Hina Kuronami. I would like for you to take it, as your grandmother never had any male sons or brothers. Go, my son. I want you to have the freedom I so desperately wanted and live your life any way you want to. Write to me periodically, that's the only thing I ask of you."

Weeks later, he had been on a ship bound to Japan, a letter to Miyamoto Akira tucked into his vest. The day he had set foot on Japan, Charles Farrington had ceased to exist, and Ryo Kuronami had been born from the vow of never making the same mistake again.

He had the suspicion his father and his grandpa exchanged letters, and that it was more than a simple coincidence what made Akira Miyamoto so adamant not to let Ryo continue the family tradition.

Ryo sighed and realized the bonbon box was empty. He stopped walking for a moment and grabbed another box. Those chocolates were really the best there were! How come they hadn't tasted like that before?

The police station's enormous clock made its hourly racket, Ryo was reminded Misao would go to his house for another 'lesson' a couple of days later at that very hour. Now, there was a girl he really felt comfortable with. No hidden intentions and no interest in his fortune. It was a pure coincidence they were business partners really, and the girl just couldn't fool him. The faraway looks she had sometimes were heart-related and no, it wasn't Soujiro-san.

It was weird how knowing that made him feel a lot more comfortable around her. The human heart is strange, and as soon as it was certain that she wasn't a 'threat', she became one of the most important people in his life. No, not a romantic interest.

If anything, because she just wasn't interested.

o-o-o-o-o-o

"OH MY GOOOOOOOOD!"

And this, ladies and gentlemen, was why Misao hadn't wanted to get out of the bath in the first place. She had known there would be much fussing and wailing and crying and all those things exaggerated Aoiya people did. Unfortunately for her, her cheek was rapidly becoming swollen and she needed to stop the swelling NOW, if she wanted to put a foot outside before next week. The oniwabanshu, being a secret ninja organization and whatnot, had long since developed a healing salve for these kinds of situations, where acting like nothing had happened was a must and 'whoever said I was in a fight was very wrong, do you see any bruises here?' attitudes were essential.

Misao, having been Aoshi-obsessed for quite a bit of her childhood (and adolescence, and teenage years, and quite a bit of her adulthood as well), had been so worried with teaching herself how to fight that she had neglected other very important aspects of ninjahood. That, and having no intentions to deal with Omasu and Okon for extended periods of time, that is. Thus, the closely-guarded secret of the bruise salve had never been passed on to her, and so, that left her with no way out of the current situation.

"What happened? oh! come here, let me see that!" there went Misao, yanked to the side.

"I can't see! Turn your head this way" there went her head, in the complete opposite direction.

"Whatever happened to you? Your nose is twice as big!" Poke. Ouch.

"Her nose? Have you seen her cheek? It's a mess!" Poke, poke. Ouch again.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't get your teeth knocked out!" Open went her mouth, and Misao found out Okon could have, had she wanted to, stuck her fist in there, no problem.

"It's a mess! A complete and utter mess, I tell you!" Shake, shake. Okon was not being too compassionate at the moment, shaking Misao´s head like that, and worse yet, grabbing her by both cheeks.

"aahhhnnnn….!" Misao tried to get a word in, but in her position, nothing could've been a worse idea.

"MISAO! What were you thinking! After all we've been through to select only the best men in Kyoto as prospect husbands!" Big puppy dog eyes here, courtesy of Omasu.

"Who would want to marry a black and blue mess? It's over, all over! Our hopes and dreams…. Wahhhhhh!" Here came the waterworks people.

"A week….. only a week. Couldn't you have just waited a week? If you wanted to fight with someone, couldn't you have waited a meager week to fight away amorous advances?" Erm….. amorous advances? What the hell….?

"No amount of make-up could ever hide this! An even if it did, it would be so much that she wouldn't even be able to move her mouth to talk! Wahhhh!"

"Talk? Who cares about talking? The ideal romantic scene begins with a caress on the cheek! Hopefully a kiss!" Omasu turned from Okon to Misao in a second flat. "HOW DO YOU INTEND TO MAKE-UP FOR THIS?"

Misao automatically backpedaled until she was against the far wall. Scared just didn't convey the feeling. Absolutely terrified however, worked nicely. "I….I….ah…"

"Your miai is a week from now, and your face is a mess. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DOOOOO? WAAAAHHH!" Okay, passing from absolutely terrified to completely and utterly scared to death here.

"MISAO!" the mentioned girl jumped from the fright. "You did NOT hurt yourself to get out of the miai, DID YOU?"

As tempting as that sounded, no. Now why hadn't she thought of that one before? A broken leg wasn't so bad, right? "Ah? NONONO! Whatever made you think I would do something like that?" two flat stares were her answer. "Aww.. c'mon! I accepted the miai, right? That means I want it to happen as much as you do!"

'Please buy it, please buy it…..' hopefully, the mental mantra would work.

Okon and Omasu nodded tearfully, the older one biting on a handkerchief appeared from nowhere. 'Yes! Hook, line and sinker!'

An idea started forming on Misao's mind. So maybe it wasn't what she had in mind, but now that the opportunity was presenting itself….. Okay, she had baited them without a specific motive, but oh, now that the idea was taking form, she couldn't help but praise herself.

"Maybe the bruise salve can help?" Okon and Omasu looked at each other, as if the idea hadn't occurred to them before. Go figure. "Aoshi said it would and that this bruise was nothing to be worried about".

"Aoshi-sama?" was said in unison. The little fact that Misao had not used the honorific went unnoticed.

"Did he see you like this?" Okon asked, mystified. He must have been quite angry. He always had such strong reactions where Misao was concerned….. Whoever had done this was in for a world of pain, definitely. She pitied the poor soul.

Judging by the look Omasu sent her, Okon wasn't the only one with that particular idea in mind.

Misao looked as their anger visibly deflated. Sure, they thought Aoshi would take care of it, since he was the overprotective older brother she'd never wanted. That was it, uh?. Time for stage 1 of her newborn plan (age: 1 minute, 34 seconds) to come to life.

"Sure he did. I really should have seen his fist coming my way through….. Ah, that doesn't matter, I guess….."

"HE WHAT?" "THAT IT DOESN'T MATTER?" Ouch.

One second her ears hurt, and the next there was the most deafening silence.

Misao looked at the place Okon and Omasu had vacated just a few seconds before.

A smirk wormed its way to her lips.

o-o-o-o-o-o

There are some things that, as long as we don't acknowledge them, let us sleep peacefully and soundly, no matter if they are a BIG issue deep inside. Once acknowledged though, the panorama changes drastically and you can kiss your peaceful sleep bye-bye. Or kodachi-cut it, whichever suits you better.

After two days of silence on Misao's part and since Aoshi's realization of the real reason of his recent discomfort of other males around her, the man had already berated himself so much he was ready to face Battousai, Tsukishiro, Saitou AND ShiShio all together than to continue like that. It had seemed that, in those two days, Misao had been nowhere to be found. And most of the time, neither was Seta. Now, you must remember Seta had been there at almost every occasion something had happened between the tortured one (a.k.a. Aoshi) and Misao. For that, the ninja was considering the Tenken as some kind of bad luck bringer, aside from other things. So, it wasn't as if Aoshi was sad not to see him (quite the opposite, in fact), but the tall guy just couldn't help wondering where the whelp was. Or who he was with, if you get my drift.

Let's admit it (since the ice cube is still a little reluctant to do so), Inner Aoshi was just pulling his hair at the very idea of Misao even being in the same room with the Tenken. Especially after the way said ex-assassin had hugged her in the garden, his inner self didn't want the guy even breathing the same air as her.

Now, to make matters worse, he had been on the receiving end of Okon and Omasu's glares for those two days. He had only caught glimpses of Misao in that time. The bruises on her pretty face were fading rapidly, to his immense relief. And every time he wanted to approach her, a couple of female onimitsu blocked his path.

The first clue that something was wrong had been two days before, when he had sat down for lunch and Omasu had given him a rice ball. A single rice ball and that had been it. He usually ate before the others, so he was used to eating alone. But the rice ball that was almost thrown viciously onto the table had not, by any means, been part of the normal routine. Nor had been the cold tea, by the way.

Omasu had never before started cleaning the table before he had even had the first bite.

And Okon had NEVER growled at him when he asked for more food.

Something was veeeery wrong here.

If anything, those two days had served to confirm his suspicions. It wasn't exactly that Okon and Omasu were going to great lengths to hide their annoyance with him. If anything, they were more than happy to show it to whoever was curious enough to wonder. But they never said the reason. And that was the most puzzling thing of all. Those two were the biggest gossips he had known (okay, so he didn't have a lot of people to compare them to, sue him), and he had known them since the three of them were barely able to jump. He had always been informed, quite explicitly and loud enough to wake the dead, of whatever he had done wrong. The next day, all was forgotten and everything was fine again.

He was seriously wondering what he had done to them. Of course, after not being properly fed for two days, finding his clothes had curiously remained dirty after laundry day (although he certainly didn't remember crawling in the mud wearing them, if the mess on the laundry hamper was any indication), having had to make his own tea and obtaining an undrinkable mess, and then not being able to find the kettle the next day, putting on his sandals only to find they were suspiciously broken, wanting to take a bath and then realizing there suddenly wasn't any wood after he had chopped a mountain, and then going to bed and not finding his futon, anyone would think something was amiss.

Yeah, he had been on a little denial for a while there. It seemed it was somewhat of a hobby of his, uh?

And yet, it hadn't been all those things the ones that now had him racking his brains to remember whatever the hell he had done (recently) to deserve all that. It was the fact that he hadn't been allowed to be closer than 15 feet of Misao. It was driving him mad, and now that the cat was out of the bag, he found couldn't cope with the uncertainty.

She hadn't looked his way even once.

Annoyance blossoming in him, he turned around, clenching his fists. Right now, he was a moody Aoshi, and he needed to punch something very badly.

Inner Aoshi had just the perfect destination in mind.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Misao chewed delicately and put her knife and fork down on the plate in the correct position. With exaggerated calmness, she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her lips.

"Finally! All my efforts have paid off!" Ryo did a little jig and hugged Misao. The girl laughed.

"Hey, I wasn't that bad before, was I?"

"Do I need answer? Fine then, four words: rice on the carpet" Misao blushed prettily and stuck out her tongue, completely ruining the pretty effect.

"Now you're ready to face the wolves! Why, you could even go to a fancy ball and no-one would be the wiser"

Misao squirmed a little at that. "Actually…."

Ryo didn't seem to notice. "The only thing you would lack to look the part would be a dress"

"She has a dress" pipped up Soujiro, echoing Misao's thoughts.

"Nonono, you have an afternoon dress. Nice to go out, completely out of place on a ball. I have no idea why, but women seem to think they need a different kind of dress for every moment of the day"

Misao bit her lip. Damn. She was days away from the ball at the chancellor's manor and it seemed she had neglected quite a big thing.

"Soo….. what does exactly a ballroom dress look like?" Soujiro again, saving her neck. Sometimes she really loved that man.

"Wait a sec…." Ryo suddenly disappeared to a nearby room. While he stirred quite a racket, Misao's eyes found one of the big mirrors Ryo had all over the place.

Ryo had really made a fuss when he saw her. As she regarded herself, she could tell the bruise medicine had worked wonders. Her nose was normal-sized again, and her cheek had only the faintest of black and blue below her eye. Of course, it was in such a place that made it noticeable, thanks to the shape of her face, but it wasn't so bad anymore. There really had been no need for the enormous lump of meat Ryo had insisted she wear for a couple of hours, until she managed to convince him she was FINE, and that the meat was getting sticky.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a huge crash.

Soujiro ran to the door ran to the door in the time it took Misao to turn around. Well, he wasn't the Tenken for nothing. Then, he opened the door, and Misao couldn't do much more than blink when the source of the noise was revealed.

Ryo, sprawled on the floor and half-covered with various boxes that had spilled their contents, a green skirt, a matching corset, a lady's beret on the head and a purse on the lap, returned the blink quite evenly.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Hajime Saitou was in the middle of his 14th cigarette of the day when he felt a familiar presence approaching the police station. Smirking, he looked at the clock on the wall. He had a fairly good idea of where in the building Shinomori might be headed to.

With a final puff of smoke, the wolf of Mibu got up his seat and made his way towards the door. As an afterthought, he picked up his katana, just in case.

As he reached the place, the wolf the door locked. Sounds of mayhem could be heard coming from inside the tiny room, and it didn't take a genius to figure out there was a carnage going on inside.

Saitou probed the door a couple of times. Not only it was locked, it was blocked too. The tall man turned around and went into a nearby room. Once there, he set down his katana and looked around.

"Where was it…?"

Open a drawer, rummage a little. Close the drawer. Repeat.

Four drawers later, and not a single paper or book out of place, Saitou found the key he was looking for.

So Shinomori was probably making teriyaki with the low-lifes. It wasn't enough reason to make a mess out of a carefully ordered room, now was it? And speaking of that, whoever worked there was going to get an extra holiday, just for being tidy.

Suddenly, Saitou stopped. Narrowing his eyes at a particular LOUD bang coming from the closed room and the following clatter, he seemed to change his mind and forget about the key, choosing instead to go through another door.

o-o-o-o-o-o

*THUD*

A body collided with the wall, unconscious.

It hadn't taken long for Aoshi to find the perpetrators of the crime against Misao. He had quite a good information system, regardless of him no longer being the Okashira.

Come, beat the hell up, go. Quite a nice plan. It wasn't as much as avenging Misao as it was discharging his frustrations, really. The girl had wiped the floor with them, she hadn't needed a defender. And that frustrated him. The wolf had gotten his claws on them first and scared the scum so much they were barely coherent. Frustration: level two. He had arrived to find them nursing wounds and a battered ego. There hadn't been much more for him to do. Frustration: level three.

Can you say 'ouch'?

Aoshi sheathed his kodachi and cleared the makeshift barricade in front of the door with a single kick.

As soon as he opened the door, two flashes of something zoomed towards him. Sensing no danger from them, he caught the projectiles swiftly, and faced his attacker.

"I am NOT cleaning your mess" That said, Saitou turned on his heel, leaving Aoshi to examine the broom and dustpan he had in his hands. Slowly, he turned around, brandishing the broom on one hand as one would a fighting pole.

I don't know about you, my dear reader, but I am starting to feel quite sorry for the poor unfortunate idiot thugs.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Misao entered the room, and eyed the fabric in her hands dubiously. According to Ryo, she was now the owner (the guy hadn't accepted a no for answer. Did she expect him to play dress up?) of a ball dress of supposedly the latest fashion in Europe. Well, European women either didn't breathe or took off a couple of ribs to fit into those things.

That said, let's go back to the matter at hand. Once she was inside the dress (and somehow gotten the clasps at the back closed, which only took her about 20 minutes and a possibly disjointed shoulder), the girl checked her reflection with a photo Ryo has lent her. And found herself lacking a couple of fleshy things at the front. The girls in the picture seemed to have their breasts almost touching their necks. And they somehow managed to appear dignified and proper even with cow tits.

Misao struggled and wiggled and moved and rearranged. Ouch, her bruises still hurt a little, especially the one on her breast. But the stiff corset actually helped, strange as it sounded.

She looked at the mirror again. Ok, not so bad now, but compared with the photo…..

What the hell did the westerners feed their daughters?

She looked at herself from all angles. Little old her was supposed to go out dressed like this? It would be a miracle if someone didn't jump her on sight! Frankly, she had never seen so much flesh. Oh, forget her ninja outfit, there's just no way that could be considered flattering in any way. This, on the other hand made her feel… exposed and vulnerable.

….Unless…..

But no, that didn't make much sense, did it?

Then again, the more she thought about it, the more logical it seemed.

Misao looked down. Nope, no more hole in the middle.

The Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu turned around and looked over her shoulder, only to see a mismatched mess of clasps and a limp ribbon. She had just opened her mouth to ask for help when a thought made her close it with a snap, almost chopping her tongue off in the process.

Urgh, why did her life have to be so complicated?

o-o-o-o-o-o

If one were to write down Aoshi Shinomori's vast knowledge, the result would probably be a whole encyclopedia, consisting in several tomes. However, as complete as it would be on some subjects, and handling of diverse items as weapons, as for example, brooms, nowhere would you find the PROPER way of handling….let's say…..brooms.

"You are a complete good for nothing"

Eyebrow up.

"Don't look at me like that Shinomori, I'm not the one who was locked up for four hours and only managed to break the broom."

"It was for a good cause" The unexpected answer made Saitou lift one of his own eyebrows. Followed by a smirk. Oh yeah, poor idiots wouldn't bother anyone for months to come. The wonders of deep-ingrained traumas.

"Get the hell out of here Shinomori" said the police officer, pointing at the door with the broken broomhandle.

Usually, Aoshi didn't take those kinds of statements lightly, but this was Saitou. Who still hadn't demanded for the cleaning to be finished (erm…. started… whatever). The young man seized his chance and did and elegant and skillful escape.

"Doesn't that wretched ninja clan teach its own members not to live like pigs?" Curiously, in Hajime Saitou's own vast knowledge there was sweeping, cooking and knitting (divulge that last one and DIE). A man had to know a little of everything if he was to survive a war.

And that, my dear readers, is one of the reasons he was just so damn perfect.

Of course, that didn't mean he was about to play maid at his age. "Kobayashi! Get your ass in here NOW!"

o-o-o-o-o-o

End of Chapter 24

o-o-o-o-o-o

Did you like it? I wanna know if there's still someone reading. Review! Pwease?

Verito-chan