Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Irresistible	By : kamorgana Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 5018 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Disclaimer: RK is property of Watsuki, but the plots, ideas, text and OCs are *mine*.
WARNING: lime.
Irresistible:

Chapter 12: Bad mood, bad blood
Saitoh was still staring at her in angry disbelief as she bowed mockingly and turned away, going back to her room.
Had she been a man, she would be already dead. Nobody could insult his honor and get away with it. She wouldn�t get away with it, either.
In two strides, he was in front of her, grasping the arm which was about to close the shoji again. She didn�t seem afraid, this time. She knew that her shot had reached its goal and she was very satisfied with it.
�Apologize,� he ordered in a menacing whisper.
Her lips lifted more to form a dirty smile. �Don�t tell me that you give yourself the illusion of being a man of honor. There I would have to pity you.�
That was it. He would not tolerate one more insult from her.
He grabbed her other arm and yanked her against the wall, not paying attention to the strength he put in his moves. He saw her gritting her teeth, yet she didn�t give in, her eyes still in his, her chin proudly lifted. He towered over her, his face inches from hers, as he was pinning her wrists to the wall on each side of her head.
The memory of them in the Otsu woods flashed through his mind. A thrill coursed through his nerves. The room�s atmosphere went heavy and still.
Aware, suddenly, inexplicably, of her body against his, of her skin under his palms, of her feminine scent, his anger mixed with excitation. He was having her at his mercy.
She was aware of it, too. A sensation of triumph took over him as he read her face. She had been as struck by the physical contact as he had been. He had felt the shivers go through her when they had gone through him. And this time she hadn�t managed to hide it as well, to put her mask in place again within mere instants, to make him wonder whether he had imagined or not her troubled reaction. His hands were closed about her wrists and he could feel her pulse, that she didn�t seem able to steady even when she did her best to keep her contemptuous expression. It was beating fast, irregularly, and in rhythm with the one of his blood pumping to his ears under his growing excitation.
She wasn�t afraid of him, she wasn�t afraid of his superiority in physical strength, though she was aware that he wanted and could hurt her anytime. But she was also aware of him, as a man, and of the sexual tension that passed between them. It was as present in the deserted room as they were, she couldn�t ignore it. She tried, oh, yes, how entertaining was that, she tried to stay even, to contain a gasp as he was toying a little with her, his thumbs stroking, as if inadvertently, the soft skin of her wrists. She was afraid of surrendering to him�afraid of what she desired.
�Let go of me, or I will have your head on a silver platter,� she threatened, her voice not concealing her lack of assurance, and weakening as his thumb went up to caress teasingly one of her palms.
Her eyes turned steely, she was trying another mask and probably, this one was the most honest one that she could allow herself to show. She hated him but she couldn�t protest what he was doing to her, she liked his touch and she couldn�t deny it. How frustrating it must be to her. He knew: he hated her, but he couldn�t help himself either. He had an advantage, though: he was in control. How easily he could now give her that little lesson she deserved.
And the first step was to acknowledge her weakness, to let her see that he knew, to let her anticipate his victory. With a wicked smirk, he bent, lazily drew the contour of her mouth with his tongue, and all the time his eyes were darted straight into hers.
He saw her shattering, the gray orbs widening, panic appearing in their depths yet not erasing the desire that had flared. He felt the shudders going down her body, her heart missing a beat with the shock before resuming its maddened run. He saw the realization hitting her, and she wasn�t a gracious loser. She couldn�t afford to surrender, they both knew it, and she began to fight, to writhe, to try to escape his hold, changed into a screaming fury.
�Don�t touch me! Let me go, let me go immediately!�
The victory was an aphrodisiac as powerful as her soft body moving restlessly against him, the combination more efficient than the complicated caresses of a prostitute. He wanted her. Since the first moment when he had laid a hand on her, in the woods, the little witch had attracted him. He had been as displeased by the fact as she currently was. What an idiot he had been not to see that he could have used it at his advantage. His victory would be complete: crushing her, and satisfying his instincts.
She was insulting him now. He almost chuckled. That was the first lesson that he should teach her, for the common good, he decided. He was quite sure that cursing was very un-ladylike, and she had as surely been told so. Well, she would remember that she should keep her mouth shut, he thought, as he pulled her suddenly closer to him and seized her lips for a hot, violent kiss. His tongue entered her warm mouth, taking possession of it even more easily as she was dumbstruck again. He took as he wanted, she tasted good, very, very good, and he felt himself hardening, and hardening again as she fought once more. He had already won: she was fighting herself, not him, her mouth opening for him, her hips seeking him contradicting her half-hearted pretenses. He let go of her hands to circle her waist, and she hit his back, with less and less conviction while he molded her to him, taunting himself with the closeness of her. She moaned, her arms stopped hitting to close around him, and she let him deepen the kiss.
He released her mouth, keeping her ruthlessly pinned against him, and he went to kiss her neck, one of his hands parting her night yukata, to caress her thighs. Her skin on the inner side was velvety, the most delicate he ever touched, and he savored thoroughly the texture, his fingers trailing delicately on it, oh, yes, it would be heavenly to feel them around him when he took her. She had stilled, shocked, and although he had enjoyed her fight, that was enough, he wanted more now. He wanted her surrender, willful and absolute.
He lifted his head to stare at her and see her eyes clouding, as his hand was now boldly going higher on her legs, teasing, probing. She was lost, and she knew it.
�Don�t�.�
It wasn�t an order this time, it was a plea, softly murmured, music to his ears. He let his fingers trail down, pretending to comply, only to reverse the move the next second. He reached her curls, brushed them with his knuckles ever so lightly. She was unable to repress a whimper, her head tossing back. He played there for a moment, letting her drown into her own want�and he stopped. She looked at him again and he captured her eyes, not letting her break the contact.
�Tell me to stop, and I will.�
He could see her inner fight in her gaze, pride against desire, reason against need, and the later winning over. Biting her lip, she looked down and shook her head slowly. Smirking, he leaned to whisper into her ear.
�I don�t understand. Do you want me to let go of you now?�
She lifted her head, met his eyes, and sighed, as if confessing a sin: �No�.�
Victory had always been sweet to him, but this one even more. Victory this time had the sweet taste of her mouth and her skin, the sweet sound of her moans of pleasure, the sweet sensation of her body offered to him. He had stolen the last of her sigh in a possessive kiss, and had drowned into a desire so powerful that he was barely aware of anything else. His brain was catching blurred images, diffused feelings, he wasn�t sure of where he was anymore. She was suddenly naked beneath him, her body arching under his caresses, her nails digging in his back, her skin fresh yet heated, crying out as he entered her. He had been unable to wait, driven by a need to have her, his mind clouded by the strength of the pent-up, the aching for release, he was going to�.
***
�Wake up!�
Saitoh bolted on his futon, panting.
�Wake up!� Hatsue was walking into the corridors, as she did every morning, accompanied by the clapping sound of the two small planks hitting each other.
He blinked, looked around. He was in his room, at the compound, the first rays of sun peeping through the shoji. His sleepy confusion faded and he understood, his jaw clenching.
Damn it.
He took a deep breath, trying to erase the impression left by the dream�more or less successful at it. He looked down and let out a sigh of exasperation. He heard the others getting out of their rooms. He was usually already up when Hatsue did her round, or one of the first to be out. Now, he should wait a little before joining them, or there would be a moron to make a distasteful comment.
It had been 4 days since his confrontation with *her*, and he had had these infuriating dreams since then. He knew that it was out of frustration, but then, why his moronic mind didn�t make him dream of what he had really wanted to do? Things like choking her to death, or anything in the style that would assure him to wake up in a pleasant mood.
Anger flared as he remembered the real scene. He had been able to control himself, mostly because they had had enough ladies murdered in one day, and had stared at her walking back to her room and closing the shoji, paralyzed with furor and swearing inwardly that he would make her pay dearly for her insult.
He had also managed not to think of it anymore�when he could do something about it. It hadn�t been difficult during the days: between the constant attacks of the Satsuma rebels, the formation of the new recruits, necessary after the first blow that the Shinsengumi had taken, and his own investigations on the traitor, he had his hands full. Okita and he were the ones to usually test the recruits; hence Kondo had charged Nagakura of being the one to check on their men at the court. That had spared Saitoh the mere view of the little witch. He had heard that she had accompanied her father to the compound again, courtesy of Harada�s comments during dinner the night before, yet he had luckily not met her, for once.
He wouldn�t be so lucky for long, he thought, disgusted. He had a bad feeling about it.
***
June 12th, 1865.
Saitoh entered the common room, his lips thinning as Kido and Kikuta gave him what they surely defined as a �discreet� recognition look. This was going to be a bad day. He just knew it.
Avoiding them, he went to settle at the captains� table, which was apart from the others and currently occupied by Harada, Okita and Nagakura only.
�Good morning, Saitoh-kun,� Okita greeted brightly.
This kind of happy display made Saitoh want to bare his teeth, even more as his friend had a smug smile.
�It seems that we are in a shitty mood again.�
Count on Harada to put his dirty feet in the plate. At least Okita was subtle.
�You didn�t come to the tea-house since you�re back from Aizu�Lack of sex, Saitoh, does nothing for the mood. You should pay particular attention to this, with your already delicate disposition in that respect.�
�Morons do nothing for my mood either, Harada. Now shut up.�
Hatsue appeared next to him, placing his tray with the breakfast in front of him. He frowned as she observed him for a second. Great, another smug face was just what he needed. He looked down at the food, clenching his teeth, to discover a fuming bowl of kakesoba. Well, maybe the day wouldn�t be *absolutely* awful. He glanced at Hatsue, who bowed, with a light in her eyes that he couldn�t define, speculative and yet�motherly??? He was surely having a nightmare again. Better to take advantage of the good part of it before all went to hell, he thought, sipping the noodles and ignoring Okita�s giggle.
�You and Takeda should learn to behave. I wish I could have a relaxed breakfast from time to time.�
�By the way, where is Tani?� Saitoh asked to Okita, between two mouthfuls, shrugging off Harada�s pouting. The 5 others Captains had been back one hour ago from the last night patrol and would sleep during most of the morning, but Tani had been part of the first, like them, and he was supposed to help him and Okita with the recruits for the morning training.
�He will be at the dojo on time�he�s just settling a personal problem in his room.�
�Takeda made a jealousy scene again this morning. He wasn�t back that he started yelling. You didn�t hear it? They woke up half of the compound.�
�No, I didn�t,� Saitoh answered curtly.
�Poor guy, Takeda is so paranoid that he suspects Tani to cheat on him with a woman of Gyon,� Harada went on, laughing. �I�ve known Sanjuuro for years, and he has never manifested even a slight interest for any of them�Takeda had better be worried about the young guys that you�re going to train this morning. Which would be ridiculous, anyway, because for Sanjuuro to accept this kind of hysteria, when he has never been patient��
�Harada-kun, I don�t think that this is any of our business.�
�Shinpachi, we already have a killjoy here, you know? No need for another one.�
�We also have a moron, and we could do without,� Saitoh retorted.
�Saitoh, you repeat this, and you will have to do without teeth.�
�Harada-kun, talking about Gyon, I hear that you at least have been lucky�O-Fuku? I�m jealous!� Okita intervened, talking a little too fast, and clapping his hands enthusiastically. �My underlings, too, she is every guy�s dream��
Harada laughed, scratching his hair in an attempt at modesty. He reminded Saitoh of a rooster. Moron.
�She loves tough guys, you know��
Okita had stood up. �I�m really curious�but I have to prepare the dojo, oh, that�s too bad��
�I can go with you, no love�s lost here anyway, and really, this is worth sharing, my friend.�
Harada had imitated him, with a shrug at the two others. Nagakura nodded to Okita, who winked at him and left with the hotheaded Sanosuke.
�Okita-kun has the spirit of sacrifice��
�He also likes gossip,� Saitoh remarked. �Don�t worry too much about him. I�m sure he�ll have fun.�
Nagakura shook his head. Saitoh was really a jerk sometimes, and these days more than often.
�That�s as well that Harada is gone, though, I have new developments on our little case. Anything new on the poison?� he said, lowering his voice.
�No. I gave what�s left of the tea to Okita yesterday, after the court�s doctor failed to identify it. He says that he knows a specialist. I guess that it�s worth the try. What about the Satsuma traitors?�
�Most of them were just tools. They were collaborating, providing funds when they could, and lending their places�but nothing about the plans. Except for one�the ronin that Hijikata captured.�
�He always thinks one step ahead,� Saitoh admitted, putting his chopstick aside. �I was extremely surprised that *he* had taken a prisoner.�
�Indeed. I was expecting Hijikata to chop them all off, but the imbecile named himself�and he was one of the suspects in the attack of Ohara�s temple two months ago. It took us time, the bastard is more stubborn than intelligent, but I have finally a lead to a place in Sanjo. I�ll go by noon, and Hijkata ordered that Takeda went with me, as we might stumble upon strong adversaries and not ordinary thugs, but��
Saitoh had a sly grin. �Yes, I understand that you don�t trust Takeda. I still wonder why he is a Captain. He would hurt himself with a needle, so with a sword��
�Saitoh-kun, I�m afraid that I can�t contradict you. And since the choice of the new members is done, and that you won�t spend all day at the dojo, will you��
�I�ll go with you, of course. Indeed, I�ll have more time. And since I�m stuck with the poison and couldn�t put my hand on a Choshu man to translate the other signs of the letter, better to spend my time usefully.�
�Matsudaira�s men are still on it?�
�Yes. When we go to the residence, tonight, I�ll get it back; the idiots are good for nothing. I�d like you to have a look at it. These rebels betray each other and change camp as often as the Satsuma Daimyo changes alliance, so maybe you could find some similarities which would give us an idea of the meaning. Not that we don�t know the main part: kill the girls.�
�I will, and hope we can solve this definitely. You were right on the girl, Saitoh-kun, 4 days and no new incident�Ah! Here they come,� Nagakura smiled, glancing sideways as the men left were suddenly leaving the dining room for the courtyard. �They�re early today.�
Saitoh raised a brow. Some didn�t even take the time to finish their soba. Hatsue, who had started to get the bowls back, was obviously not happy. The old crone had a very accurate memory: the morons could expect to have smaller portions for dinner.
�Takagi,� explained Nagakura. �Ah, that�s true; you weren�t there the other days��
Saitoh knew that the vassals were retained in Kyoto. The frequency of the attacks had led them to accept to stay, and the conferences about the policy to adopt towards the rebels were still going on. He also knew that Matsudaira had asked Takagi to make the link between Kondo and him, to exchange the mutual progresses. He began to understand the attitude of their underlings, and that made his recently improved mood regress to a state of deep annoyance.
�Tokio-san came here twice, and they want a glimpse at her�I can�t blame Takagi to insist that she comes with him. The other vassals are with their daughters all the time, except during the political conferences, and they almost asked that we had two guards in each room during the night. I guess that Michiko-sama having a fit was the only thing that retained them.�
�There won�t be any other problem at the residence. The culprit is dead. How idiotic of Takagi. Traveling is too dangerous for them to leave, but he takes his daughter out in Kyoto every other day? He�s a target, that�s ridiculous.�
�In daylight, Saitoh-kun, and I understand him. If it were my daughter, I would want to protect her myself�But you�ll have to wait to be a father to know this.�
Saitoh contained an acerb reaction. Everybody knew that Nagakura had lost his wife and baby son two years before, during an epidemic of one of those new diseases brought by the foreign barbarians. Yet it was only the second time, since he had met him, that the Second Captain made an allusion to the fact. Saitoh hence considered it as a line not to be crossed, and respected it. Knowing the limits was his motto.
He shrugged. �Talking about fatherhood and education, I have a bunch of young idiots waiting for me at the dojo. I�ll see you later. And if you find a way to get rid of Takeda�I don�t want to hear him whine about his sentimental problems.�
�You are certainly not in the mood,� Nagakura smiled. �I�ll see what I can do�but don�t be too optimistic.�
***
Tokio clasped her tongue in exasperation, as she looked into her small bag. She was sure that she had taken the stone for the ink. She went through the papers again, the little fabric pack containing her brush and calligraphy devices�no, it wasn�t there. Resisting to a fit of anger, and the need to throw everything into the kitchen�s fire, she drew a long sigh. She was forgetful now, that was so perfect.
She was just so tense that she wasn�t in her right mind anymore.
It had been four days, and she got more upset and disgusted every single one of them. She was beyond anger, revolted at the injustice to see Aiko ending up as the scapegoat of the rebels� doing. She *knew* her friend. She wasn�t a traitor, less a murderer. The idea that she could hurt a fly was ridiculous�that she could kill a human being was pure madness. She was stronger than Tokio had granted her for, but if she hadn�t been able to even answer to Torimi�s verbal attacks, how could have she stabbed her to death? And Reiko�never would she have done anything to hurt Reiko. Even if she had had the will, which was already accepting a ridiculous presupposed, she was too weak to kill anybody with her bare hands. And the revenge motive, oh, please, had everybody gone crazy? Tokio had been there after Aiko had met Yuujiro for the last time, she knew that the man had regretted the death of innocents and Aiko had had been horrified at it when she learnt of his crime�and now she would be suppressing innocents herself to avenge him?
Her friend had been poisoned, deprived of her life, and she was deprived of her dignity and honor in death.
As for the other morons, they were all relieved, blinding themselves with their theory. They wanted to be reassured, not realizing that nothing was solved. Whoever had framed Aiko, they played well. The vassals had been incredulous at first, but as time went by, they were more and more confident and believed that her friend was guilty. Even her father had changed his disbelief into repulsed pity for the poor �despaired girl� who had �lost her mind�. How could they? She had tried to talk to him and Kondo-sama, but they had dismissed her as a child, as if she was the one �blinded by her feelings�. They had indulged her a bit, answering to her bewildered questions, but had considered it enough.
In the meanwhile, Aiko, Reiko and Torimi�s murderer was getting away with his crimes and plotting the next one, surely.
Tokio stood up, her nails digging into her palms, her teeth closing upon her bottom lip. She wouldn�t let that happen. She had to find the truth and to expose it.
There was nothing to wait from the men�s part. Her father had explained the so-called �conspiracy�, though she was sure that he had already left a lot apart�as he hadn�t even talked about the attack in Otsu. Aiko had gone crazy after Yuujiro�s death, got contacted and was manipulated by Choshu, and ended up killing Torimi and killing herself when she had thought that she would be caught. He had presented Reiko�s death as a �suspicion� of murder, as if they didn�t know from the start what it was. That didn�t even help Matsudaira into getting what Tokio had realized he wanted: the declaration wasn�t approved of yet. Her father had convinced most of them to turn against Choshu, mainly, in Tokio�s opinion, because these weren�t a danger anymore. But the majority wanted to avoid confronting or provoking Satsuma. The rebel won, having used herself and her friends as mere tools, and that made her as sick as the murders did.
Getting locked most of the time had finished exacerbating her nervous state. They were looked after closely almost 24/7 and it was for sure that once the declaration was signed, since she had no doubt that her father would manage it, they would go back to Aizu immediately. She needed to get out. She had come for it. It had been so long, she wouldn�t accept to fail so close to her goal. Her feeling of claustrophobia at the court was growing and she was desperate that she wouldn�t find a way, this time. They hadn�t been given new rooms, of course, they had to be worthy of their samurai rank and endure in silence, and she was almost hearing Aiko�s cries of pain when she was laying awake at night, the smell of blood and death filling her nostrils, or having nightmare of someone with a dagger surprising her from behind a shoji. In a word, she was getting crazy, too.
And when she could get out of that place, it was to the compound�seeing Hatsue was a relief as well as the mere fact of being physically out of this place, yet she was locked again in the kitchen; of course she wasn�t even allowed to be there during Kondo-sama and her father�s conversations. She was writing letters for the administration of the estate, only thing that she was allowed to do, probably until they decided that she was just good enough to breed.
For this despicable, unspeakable, deceitful imbecile.
If helping into fighting the rebels and clearing Aiko�s name hadn�t been enough motivation, the idea of revealing the real nature of Saitoh Hajime would have been. He would be a failure in everybody�s eyes, what a pleasant idea. She didn�t even want to think about him, the pitiful satisfaction that she had taken into insulting him with success having been erased under the weight of what his doings had meant for her and her friends.
They could prevent her from being free of her moves, they could hide their plans, they could decide to sell her for their political goals, but they couldn�t prevent her from thinking. And in spite of her psychological turmoil, thinking was what she did best. She had gathered the elements that she had and had made a few deductions. There was traitor, but it wasn�t a woman. None of them had brains enough for creating such a complicated plan as Aiko�s framing was. But many of them were stupid enough to inform their fathers on everything that happened�she knew that Maru was one of the sources of her father for gossip. Imada knew lots of things�and there was Fujiki. The old lecher could have very well learnt many things from Sarina. He was her suspect number one. Yes, he was too obviously against the declaration, but the man was so arrogant that it was fitting, if he was sure that he was above suspicions. As for the murders themselves, they could have bought somebody to execute them, like these thugs on the way to Kyoto. Maybe a servant was an accomplice�someone from Kyoto, whom the traitor would have paid, and who would be in connection with Choshu.
Or even a Shinsengumi soldier. Those men who spoke against Kondo were also possible eventualities. Saitoh was rotten; hence one of his soldiers at the residence could have been bought. Underlings were following the example of their leaders, and surely Saitoh didn�t put too many efforts into fighting corruption.
During these four days, she had built her strategy, preparing her interrogations of Yuka, her maid, on who was who and where at the residence, with enough subtlety so that the girl would suspect nothing�and attract no suspicion either. Tokio didn�t want to put her in danger.
She had also interrogated Hatsue to orient her Shinsengumi suspicions towards an eventual suspect. She had realized with horror that she was indeed the only person with a clue, as the pretext of her marriage had led the old woman to center her conversation on Saitoh. According to her dear nanny, whose brain surely started to be affected by age, the man was infuriating, arrogant, but a good leader and an honorable samurai. She had even praised Matsudaira�s choice, saying that Tokio needed that kind of man. It was pure nonsense, and Tokio had had to pinch herself to verify that she was awake. She didn�t have much information yet, but at least, she knew the captains� schedule and had convinced Hatsue to keep an eye on the two potential traitors�Which would include Saitoh�s connection with them, albeit unknown to the old woman.
Yet, things were going too slowly; the murderer could strike again, anytime. It was doing nothing good to her.
Sighing again, and as Hatsue had gone to clean the bath house, she went out of the kitchen to get some ink from Kondo-sama�s office.
***
She had crossed the courtyard, relieved as nobody seemed to be around. The guards at the main gate had been surprised, of course, but she had smiled sweetly at them, as if her presence was absolutely normal, and they had bought it. Men were so easy to manipulate�most of the men.
She passed near the dojo, the shouts coming from inside attracting her attention. She hesitated before her curiosity was stronger and she went to post herself discreetly in a corner of the entrance, hidden by the door. The familiar smell reached her nose, reminding her of her visits to her grandfather when she was a child. Very often, Kondo-sama was there for some keiko training, and on a few occasions her father had played the sparring partner. Matsudaira-sama was also coming, sometimes, and then they all had tea and he always brought delicious chagashi�saying that her mother�s were more delicious. Her mother�they watched the practice together, Tokio feeling a slight worry in her when her father was fighting. She had always wondered why. It was just training, and Tokio was fascinated. It was more interesting than the traditional dances that she went to see sometimes at the shrine. Maybe Tokio wasn�t worried because she was comfortably locked into her mother�s arms, her scent and smile reassuring her�
Discarding her thoughts and the feeling of loss, worse now that it reminded her of Reiko and Aiko, Tokio focused on the scene. Three captains were sparring with the recruits. The closest to her was Okita. She was impressed at his strength. She didn�t know much, but he was so fast that even a mundane could only be impressed. He was looking so different, his eyes hard and his face concentrated, nothing common with the boyish man she had discussed with. Except after he won, he was explaining to the underlings why and how they had lost with a nice smile and some jokes, which soothed their pride and earned their sympathy, obviously. She smiled, too. He was really a clever instructor, the recruits seeming eager to try again and to improve thanks to his attitude.
The second group was lead by a Captain that she had seen several times in Aizu, Tani Sanjuuro. He was below Okita�s level: that was obvious even for her. He was taller and more massive, less fast than Okita, and didn�t have his patience either. He was getting unnerved as the young men were repeating the same mistake, and yelling at them. Tokio frowned, it has been his fault, he hadn�t explained very well. Yet he was finally calming down as quickly as he had been upset, and had a kind of jolly attitude that seemed to erase that bad impression.
The third group, and the third Captain�Saitoh. She had seen him fighting already, and against herself, she grew fascinated again as she observed him. He was fast and powerful, his moves fluid, and more openly aggressive than Okita; though he seemed not to reveal all of his resources, giving an impression of control. But he hit them badly, sending them ruthlessly to the floor as if it was a real fight. He wasn�t exploding like Tani, but making remarks on his usual contemptuous tone�infuriating his adversary, who only managed to get hurt again.
�Control your anger, imbecile,� he let out, addressing his last victim. �Do you think that the Ishin are going to be delicate with your feelings? If I had had a real sword, you would be dead by now.�
She followed his gaze, which he had reported on two underlings fighting with each other. One fell to the floor, holding his stomach, which had been hit by his adversary. He seemed badly hurt. The other started to bend over him, only to hesitate, and to take a step back. She contained a gasp of indignation as Saitoh kicked into the man on the floor, sending him two feet away.
�This kind of trick works when you fight with your brothers, moron. Your adversary will only take advantage of it to kill you. Now, you have a reason to complain,� Saitoh scolded, before he turned towards the other. �How did you understand?�
The young boy, probably younger than her, she realized, looked surprised and he answered. �I was quite sure that I had hit the sternum, and not the stomach�he should have been out of breath, only. I thought that I had rather trust myself, and�well, that�s why, Saitoh-sensei.�
Saitoh gazed at him, a smirk forming on his lips. �Trusting your adversary rather than yourself would have indeed been very stupid. What�s your name?�
�Nakata, Saitoh-sensei.�
�You�ll be sparring with me.�
The boy�s face lit. �Yes, Saitoh-sensei. I�ll do my best.�
Saitoh�s smirk widened. �You�ll need to do more than that.�
Tokio watched them starting to fight, bewildered. She had heard her grandfather say this kind of things. A kenjutsu teacher shouldn�t be easy on the students, he should teach them to stay alive. She also noticed that not resentful of Saitoh�s ruthless attitude, the other recruits seemed only to envy the elected one. This was telltale.
He was a good fighter and a good instructor. Hatsue�s words echoed in her head. She knew him better�she was at the compound all the time. Tokio found herself doubting again. Could it be that she had been wrong on him? The memory of Aiko dying in her arms hit her. No. The man was a sleaze, charging an innocent with a crime to arrange his Daimyo�s wishes. After all, if all their opponents were stupid and bad fighters, they wouldn�t have so many problems with them. It was possible that he was a great samurai, as everybody said, but that he was also rotten by ambition. These rebels like Sakamoto Ryoma, the popular Ishin from Tosa, were surely of the same kind.
But he had been fair with the students, rewarding a good attitude�it didn�t fit with the rest�
She took a step back, wanting to leave and stop the disturbing course of her thoughts, only to bump into someone.
Startled, she turned around to find herself face to face with another Captain whose identity she knew, Takeda Kanryuusai. He seemed barely awake, wearing only a white yukata, and was staring at her without amenity.
�What are you doing here, Takagi-sama?�
His politeness didn�t erase the slight menace that she had felt around. She took her most innocent face, though she doubted that she was going to manipulate him as easily as the guards. It was notorious that he didn�t like women.
�I was looking for Hatsue,� she explained. �I am out of ink and need some for my accounting work��
�She�s in the bathhouse�� Takeda answered, the black eyes losing some severity behind his glasses.
He nodded towards the old woman getting out of the building. She trotted to them.
�The bathhouse is clean and ready, Captain Takeda. I hope that you�ll have a relaxing time,� she bowed.
�Thank you Hatsue, I don�t even want to think of the state of this place if you weren�t here. Oh, and maybe you should arrange that Takagi-sama always know where you are? I doubt that my fellow Captains would appreciate to see her interrupting the practice and distracting their students.�
As he went away, his long hair whirling around, Hatsue glanced at the dojo before reporting her gaze on Tokio.
�I see that your curiosity almost brought you trouble again, Tokio-sama,� she started severely�.before she had a knowing, teasing smile. �Though I understand why you are. I can only be thankful that you didn�t have the idea to observe him in the bathhouse yet��
Tokio felt herself blushing to the root of her hair under the utterly smug expression of her nanny. She thought that�? Oh, please.
��and I�m afraid that you�ll have to wait for after the wedding to have such an occasion, I will be careful that you don�t until then. I�m really sorry, Tokio-sama,� she finished on a wink.
Tokio repeated her reason for being there, yet her defensive and outraged tone didn�t convince Hatsue one bit. She tried to convince herself that it was surely better this way to get more information on Saitoh, and through this, on the other enemies of Kondo-sama, but she wasn�t feeling less offended.
Saitoh�s fault, once again, she decided, her bad mood growing.
To be continued�
Torturing Saitoh with hentai dreams is my favorite activity, LOL. Ah, only his subconscious can betray the severe Miburo *evil laugh*. And that allows a little interesting interaction between the two, time for the hentai action-inclined readers to patient until the real one. If some sentences of the lemony action seem to be beyond the cheese load usually authorized in such, I planted them as little hints that it was a dream. I�m fighting my own evilness, LOL.
I don�t remember whether I explained why Tokio is in this fic a woman beautiful enough to provoke such reactions in the Shinsengumi ranks, LOL (though well, they would have gone to see any woman, if you remember chapter 3, she just happens to be the one to show up). In fact, her mother Ryoko was supposed to be a beauty (I didn�t invent this fact, the Japanese sources say �taihen bijin�), and since I made Tokio her spitting image, well�here we are. The second reason is her situation at the court and her temper: physical beauty is very often giving birth to confidence and even arrogance, and it also allowed me to explain the success of her manipulations, since many people (especially in shallow environments and in male chauvinist societies in which beautiful woman = dumb bimbo -sigh-) tend to rely on appearances.
The name Nakata is a wink to the famous Japanese football (I *refuse* to use the word soccer) player.
Takeda Kanryuusai was known to be homosexual, not Tani Sanjuuro (not especially at least), but anyway at this time who could say, gay relationships weren�t rare in the samurai cast.
Next chapter: Okita versus Okashira doesn�t seem much of a dilemma for a young woman. The hunt for Satsuma gives results, but will Saitoh arrive on time to prevent a new crime?
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Irresistible