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Preys	By : kamorgana Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 5568 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. The characters belong to Watsuki, but the plots, ideas, OCs and text are *mine*.
Preys
Chapter 5: Links
After their departure from Hiko's office, they didn't talk to each other until they took the elevator. Myojin's interrogation had been fitting what Hiko had told them, and they had to wait for the different reports to proceed further.
"So, what about that intuition Kondo talked about?" Tokio began, as the cabin was descending. She tried not to sound aggressive. She had argued with too many people today, including him, and she was really tired of that.
"So you can share it with your personal friend the mayor?"
"Excuse-me?" He wouldn't dare...
"Everybody is suspect until I have a proof they're not. You should never leak any information to a witness. Possibility of serial murders? If you still value your status of wannabe-cop, you'd better learn to shut your big mouth," he suggested sarcastically.
"And nobody told YOU that it was stupid to alienate a witness like you did with Myojin-san? Is that so important for you to win the contest of bastard of the year? You really didn't need any efforts, the title is already yours."
They got off in the parking lot, and her stilettos were echoing loudly on the concrete ground, hitting it as fast as her pulse was beating with a renewed anger. He waited for a moment to answer calmly.
"Well, I couldn't compete in the ass-kissing category. This one goes clearly to you."
She stopped in front of her car, took a deep breath, and managed to control her impulse to hit him. "Detective Saitoh, we're on duty here and I'm your superior. Please don't forget it when you talk to me."
"I didn't, Takagi-sama. If you weren't my boss, I would have said something like: how many times did you fuck our Mayor on that little couch to get your promotion? Or maybe you're more familiar with that space under his desk?"
She slapped him with all her strength.
He didn't make a move to avoid her. He just stared at her, that unnerving satisfied smirk spreading on his face. She slapped him again. Her blood was boiling, anger overwhelming her, she wanted to rip off that ironic smile from his lips... He lifted his hand to his cheek, caressing slowly the red mark that she had left.

"It seems that I hit a nerve..."
The pompous bastard was talking to her as if she was a child having a tantrum. As it was exactly how she felt, another wave of furor bolted through her and she prepared to slap him once more. He was faster, grabbing her arm, twisting it behind her back. She didn't give him the satisfaction to cry out in pain. She gazed directly at him, panting, daring him to slap her back. He didn't make another move, enjoying her helplessness for several seconds.
He slowly lifted his other hand. She braced herself, expecting the violent, unavoidable respond. A cruel light glittered in his eyes and she gasped as she felt his fingers stroking slowly her cheek. His touch was soft, but it was not gentle. It was deliberate and cold.
"Aren't we pissed?"
His hand shifted to her neck, still caressing. She shivered, unable to move. Her anger had been beyond her control and, taken aback, she couldn't form a coherent thought anymore.
"Or maybe...frustrated?" he went on suggestively.
He wanted to humiliate her. She couldn't let that happen. She gripped his arm with her free hand, storming: "Don't touch me, you sick..."
And she was pulled against him, both her hands ruthlessly pinned on the top of the car behind her, her body trapped by his.
"Very frustrated, indeed."
He looked bemused, and while she was still staring at him in shock and disbelief, he stole a hard kiss, his lips moving forcefully on hers, his tongue coaxing, trying to intrude her mouth. She writhed in an attempt to escape, but he leaned a little more into her. Feeling him against her she let out another gasp. He took advantage of it to deepen the kiss. Unexpectedly, his attitude shifted from violent to sensuously persuasive and she gave in, too disoriented by his onslaught to find the will to resist. Pleasure ran easily on her raw emotions, taking control of her.
Saitoh had just intended to give her a lesson, to show this little bitch that there were limits not to be crossed with him. But she tasted so good, her lips soft, her mouth bittersweet, fruits and cigarettes. It was not enough. He was loosing control. He kissed her even more fiercely, knowingly, as he felt her resistance weakening, her body relaxing...until her tongue stroke his at last. He released her hands to hold her waist, crushing her against him. Her arms came to grip his shoulders...and a few seconds later he parted with a growl, blood dripping from his bottom lip.
Tokio was trying to catch her breath. At the very moment when she had felt herself drowning into the kiss, she had hold on to the last threads of her pride. Now they were face to face and she noticed with relief that he was panting as much as she was. At least he was affected too. Now...Now what? She should do something. Insult him, or threaten him. And why didn't he release her with an offensive comment? Why wasn't she getting away in the first place? He had just assaulted her. Nearly. His eyes had turned golden, mesmerizing her. She wanted more, she realized in a wave of self-loathing. She had no dignity.
Her cell-phone rang. As he finally let her go, reluctantly, she realized how shattered she was, her legs going limp, her trembling hands reaching for the machine in her pocket.
"Takagi...Yes..."
Saitoh took advantage of the interruption to regain his self-control. This had been a very clever move, congratulations, Detective. He didn't know he could add "discipline of a rabbit" to the list of his qualities. He was not stupid enough to ignore that part of his dislike for her came from the fact that she attracted him physically. He had been unable to dismiss the idea since she arrived to the crime scene, wearing that sexy little black dress. But he didn't think that he would jump on her at the first occasion he got. How could he let things go there? She shared some responsibilities, he corrected. She went physical first when she slapped him, after all, and she should have expected a reaction.
He froze as he heard her soft cry.
"Oh,my..."
She sent him a worried glance, thanking her interlocutor in a shaken voice. Her eyes closed briefly as she clapped her phone shut.
"Soushi is dead."
It was too blunt of a way to say it, no better than he had behaved earlier with Yahiko, but she was too shocked to come up with anything else. She gazed at him, wondering how to react. Although his face was unreadable, he had gone very still. She fought the urge to cry, to apologize. She was so at loss...
"I'm going to the hospital," he finally said, after several endless minutes, his tone utterly plain.
"Get in the car. And please don't argue, I want to go there too anyway."
He complied without a word.
***
She drove a few minutes in silence. She felt tears beginning to form at the corner of her eyes. She had to think about something else, or she was going to make a fool of herself in front of him even more. She had to cope. She knew only one way to.
"We were talking about your intuition on that case," she started, with her professional, detached voice.
Work, and a good dose of denial.
He glanced sideways at her. No condolences or pity. She surely knew that he would send them back to her teeth. He wondered why she chose that topic, but talking about work was exactly what he needed right now. He was almost grateful. Not thinking with his brain again, probably.
"I'fm not sure that you want to hear that now. It's no good news," he stated, opening the window, letting the warm air of the night brush his face. "I'm surprised that you didn't think about it, since it's linked to an old case you worked on too."
She raised a brow, still concentrating on her driving. "I worked on a lot of cases, Saitoh."
"How many boosting your career at the speed of light? How many involving sadistic killings with a blade?"
The air seized in her lungs, and she *felt* color living her face. She didn't bother to ask how he guessed. He had tracked down the murderer long enough. He knew.
"A copycat of the Slayer?" she finally murmured.
"Maybe."
"Don't talk nonsense. Are you sure or not?"
"Well, life is full of contradictions. See Okita," he added.
"How can you be so...Oh! Yukishiro..." she whispered, appalled.
Her eyes left the road for a second. They shared a knowing, darkening glance.
"I didn't even think so far," he admitted.
She opened her mouth to answer but shut it again swiftly, realizing the cruelty of her words if she told them in these circumstances.
Because you're a loner, Saitoh.
Now that Okita was gone, he was more than ever.
***
The surgeon was waiting for them in front of Okita's room. It was almost midnight. The corridor was dark, sinister, with only the emergency signs dim red lights glooming. Tokio wrinkled her nose. She truly hated the nauseating smell of hospitals. She was still wearing her cocktail dress, which made her feel even more out of place here than on the crime scene earlier.
"I'm sorry for your loss," the old man began.
"How could this happen? He was supposedly out of danger," Tokio said quickly, catching Saitoh gritting his teeth.
"He had taken a bullet in the left lung, as you know. He was stabilized, his constants were good, but he complained of chest pains tonight. The wound had reopened. It can happen. We operated again to stop the bleeding. He didn't resist the shock. His heart gave in."
"He was conscious when the decision to operate was taken?" She was in her safe, attorney-mode. If it was a medical miss...
"Yes. And he knew about the risks corresponding to his condition, but he had no chance without an operation, anyway. We did all that was humanly possible. You can ask for the medical charts."
She nodded. She knew she was unfair to him, but also that doctors were used to this kind of reactions. His offer had not been aggressive.
"I saw that he had no family. Do you want to say goodbye to him?"
"Yes," Saitoh answered plainly.
He entered the room without a glance at them.
***
Saitoh sat on the chair near the bed. They must have waited some time to call them, because Okita had no IV, no tube, and the sheet covering his chest was not stained with blood. He said silently goodbye, contemplating the face of the one and only friend he had. The only human being he had a link with. The link wasn't gone, though. It was born in their common duty. Duty still had to be carried on.
***
Once alone, Tokio looked for the closest smoking lounge. She was finishing her third cigarette of the last 10 minutes when Saitoh leaned on the frame, aloof.
"You can go if you want. I'll call Kondo now. Okita and I left a copy of our wills to him. He'fll take care of the funeral."
"I'll call the others."
"It can wait," he bit back.
"Not with the day that we have ahead, if your intuition is right. They need to absorb the shock in order to be efficient tomorrow."
"Right," he murmured absently, rubbing his forehead.
She stared at him. It was the first time that he seemed...not vulnerable, yet not controlled, since he heard the news. She didn't know what to do with that. He must be hurt. She felt so uncomfortable at the thought. Oddly, a part of her wanted to say something soothing, yet she knew that he would never forgive her if she acknowledged his weakness. As in her car earlier, she chose the safe way. She stood up.
"I told Sagara that the meeting was at 9.00 tomorrow. It will be postponed to 10.30. I'll leave after seeing Okita. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he mumbled.
Their eyes locked for a second as she passed by to him. She was still chilled to the bones when she walked through the corridor.
***
It was 3.00 when Tokio was able to take a shower, at last.
Megumi had called at the very moment she had come home, appalled since she had also made the connection. There was something else bothering the doctor, but she refused to answer yet. They had agreed that she would attend the meeting from 11.00 on.
Tokio had called Kondo, to inform him. She also had thought of some disposition to take in relation to the Slayer case.
She had then left a message to Aoshi, summarizing the situation, and had asked him to be there too.
The worse had been to deal with the team: Enishi, Tsunan and Sanosuke had all professed revenge, each in their style, until she had managed to remind them that Saitoh had already shot the guy just after Okita had been wounded. She already felt like a broken record when she had called Misao, who had been sobbing on the phone for more than half an hour, between unsuccessful attempts to recover her usual cheerful attitude. Soothing her had sucked the last remains of Tokio's strength.
She was trembling when she entered the shower, exhausted physically and nervously. The events of the days were rolling in her head in a crazy rhythm, the tension accumulating, the worry, the anger, the yells, the taste of the wine, of Saitoh's lips, the smell of blood, of ether, everything was melting as she turned her face up to receive the jets of hot water, eyes closed, trying to wash it all away. It blurred to leave only the image of piercing amber eyes, full of a hunger that she knew was reflecting her own, of that sudden need of each other's heat that had seized them when she had left the lounge. Cold chills ran through her body again. She reached for the wall in front of her for support, bending her head, opening her eyes. The sight of Okita's boyish looking face, motionless body, hit her brain full-force. She was *not* going to cry...
***
Another day, another dark and dirty street, another waiting.
"Hey! You know that you have a very wrong timing...Ho! What happened?"
Saitoh didn't bother to answer. He handed a file. "Somebody you have to find for me. Contact me as soon as you have even the slightest clue."
He turned away, his tall figure disappearing slowly in the dark.
The other man was for once oblivious of Saitoh's lack of manners. He was staring at the file, frowning.
"Holly shit..."
To be continued...

Author's notes:

I had a VERY hard time trying to deal with Saitoh saying goodbye to Okita. OOC again, probably. Yes, I killed Okita. Saitoh has to be on the edge, too.

Maybe Saitoh kissing Tokio is a little bit rushed. They are really mad at each other, and their anger mixing with their more or less admitted attraction had been stressed enough in the previous chapters so I hope it doesn't come too much out of the blue.

About the smoking lounge, Japan is very different from the USA, for example. The official smoking restrictions in the hospitals I'm going to (public ones) exist only since last year. And there are smoking lounges (and cigarette distributors) here and there, so don't be surprised at that detail. For a long time Japan has been very tolerant with smokers. Not anymore...

I'm not a scientist. A sudden re-opening of bullets' wounds seemed a likable option to me (Okita betrayed by his lungs again...). Sorry if it's too unrealistic. (I have no idea...)

In the next chapter, Tokio has to deal with Kondo's patronizing attitude and to make Saitoh follow her directives. Enishi is upset, as everybody expected. But Megumi is upset too...
- 4
- 5
- 6
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