Shiloh walked quietly up to the gates of the Yashida mansion, his perfectly-cut Italian suit framing his slender, almost effete features, a black silk-wrapped bundle reverently cradled in his hands. He looked up at the gate with shining blue eyes, and locked eyes with the ninja who thought they couldn’t be seen. “Good afternoon.”
A gatekeeper walked out from the other side. “Good afternoon. You don’t have an appointment; may I ask who you are and why you have come?”
Shiloh looked at the cameras honed in on him. “No doubt, the security systems have picked up my face, and are already running identity checks. They will find four, perhaps five matches based on various people - all whom are listed as deceased.” He handed the bundle through the bars. “Give your master this bundle, along with my picture and file and this message: External. I will wait here for his response.”
The gatekeeper warily accepted the bundle, felt its weight, and frowned; he knew what was beneath the cover. “Who should I say is waiting?”
Shiloh blinked for a moment as he pondered which name fit best for these purposes, then decided, trusting the master to know what the servant wouldn’t. The name Nicodemus had given him seemed inappropriate; for the war he knew was coming, the protecting sword would be needed again. He ran his fingers through his red hair, and exposed his cross-scar to the glare of sunlight. “Kenshin. Himura Kenshin.”
***
At another entrance to the Yashida estate, a limousine was let through without any fuss. The windows were tinted, letting no hint of who was inside.
The door pulled up to the main building; a servant opened the door. A short young man with close-cropped hair appeared first; he took only two steps, then turned back to the entrance.
“I... I don’t want to! What if they...” The voice that came out had a schoolgirl’s qualities, but an unearthly tone added to it.
Another voice came in response - also feminine, also unearthly, but in a completely different manner. “Don’t worry, Megumi. We’ll be welcome here.”
After a moment’s hesitation, claws came out to grasp Keiichi’s hand. Milky-white eyes stared out in stark terror; the greenish-gray face, adorned with a receding beard of tentacles, was etched in worry. “Are you sure?”
A third figure glided out of the limousine, a gaijin woman whose movements seemed unfettered by gravity. “I promise,” she whispered as she put her hand on Megumi’s shoulder.
And, for Megumi, those two words, that one touch... that seemed to make it all better.
***
Urashima Keitaro never thought a woman’s embrace could feel so good.
Two women, actually, but that was beside the point. Where he came from, embracing a woman usually came as the prelude to something nasty. He rubbed his hands in their hair, just enjoying the feel of their existence and the quiet happy sobs of reunion.
“I never thought... Oh, God, thank goodness you’re all right...” He reluctantly broke the embrace; he wanted to look in their eyes, to know again the souls of these two he called friend. “How... what happened?”
They’d both changed; then again, so had he. Mutsumi was more composed; her eyes had a brilliant focus to them, like the fog that had been her life for so long had been lifted. Shinobu... she saw his own scars in her eyes; she’d had to take risks, do things she hadn’t wanted. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms just to take those hurts away from her.
Mutsumi let out a long sigh. “We were taken to a... breeding facility. They desired us for making babies with our gifts, then taking them away to train them to be soldiers and killers.” He shuddered; her possible fate made his seem small. “The X-Men broke us out before anything happened, thank goodness.”
The reaction from Shinobu drew his attention from Mutsumi. The joy was fading fast; Keitaro saw the dam of less-pleasant emotions building up behind her eyes. With a sudden movement, Shinobu launched herself at him, and soaking his chest with her tears.
“Sempai... sempai... I...” Those were the only words he could make out from several minutes of sob-warped attempts at speech; a mental image from Mutsumi told him the story. She’d been forced to become what he’d run away from; she’d killed to save herself and others, and it was poisoning her inside.
He did the only thing he could think of. He lied to her. He whispered false platitudes in her ear, soft, soothing words to ease her pain, lies that let her know the one truth he could communicate: that he was here for her now, that he cared for her, and that she wasn’t going to face these demons alone.
***
Masahiko stared out the window as the limousine wound its way through the countryside, trying to quell the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach.
“Are you okay, Masahiko?” Tatsumi asked.
Masahiko let out a deep breath. Fate this morning had put him in Hako’s body, so she dressed appropriately; she grimaced at being a girl for the meeting. “No.” She managed a quiet smile. “Then again, if I were, I wouldn’t be coming, would I?”
Tatsumi chuckled at that. “True.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry; the boss will know what to do.”
“I hope so,” Masahiko whispered. She adjusted the line of her skirt as she sat. “You know, I always hated dressing up like this. It felt like I was being pushed into this other life, like you and Shion and the Movie club and everyone wanted me to be this girl.” She shivered. “Now... now I don’t know who I am. Do you know who I was two days ago?”
Tatsumi shook his head, fearing the answer.
“Masami - as everyone pictured her. Hair down to here,” she held a hand to her shoulder to demonstrate, “all the equipment you thought I had when we first met... my worst nightmare.” She closed her eyes; she hated how emotional she could get in a girl’s body. “I just stayed in my room all day; I didn’t want to talk to anyone.” She shook her head. “I eventually took some sleeping pills just so I could become someone - anyone - else.” She shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t go on as things are, Tatsumi. I need a cure - or at least something.”
Tatsumi rubbed the scar on his face. “I... I don’t think there’s a cure for this, Masahiko. But... but I think you can learn to control who you become. I think that’s why the Boss wants to see you; I think his school could help you in that respect.”
“He’d better,” Masahiko whispered. “I don’t know if I can take much more of this.”
See other episodes by Nightelf
(Posted Sun, 15 Dec 2002 09:34)
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