InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Destination Unknown ( Chapter 47 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
~~Chapter 47~~
~Destination Unknown~

"You ready to go?"

Bellaniece paused for a second before peering over the top of her magazine to level a pointed glare at Kichiro.  He handed a small wad of bills to the porter and closed the door before turning to gaze at her, expression inscrutable.

She didn't answer as she shifted her gaze back to the magazine again, set on ignoring Kichiro, even if it killed her.

He let out a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the door.  "Come on, Belle.  My weekend, remember?"

She didn't answer that, either.

When she had come downstairs with two packed suitcases, he had lifted an eyebrow and told her to go out to the car.  Thinking he would bring her luggage, she had done as he ordered without argument until he emerged from the mansion moments later with her small, floral printed toiletry bag and nothing else.

"What are you doing?"

"That's all you'll need," he told her as he dropped the bag into her lap and closed his door.

"Where's my luggage?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady and calm.

"I told you, princess.  You won't need it.  Trust me, all right?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she'd rather trust the devil.  In the end, she nodded, and he had wordlessly driven her to the airport.

On the Inutaisho private plane, she'd tried to get him to tell her where they were going.  He had ignored her line of questioning, opting instead to hold out his hand and ask to see her purse.

"Why do you need to?"

"I just want to see it," he told her.  "Hand it over, will you?"

"Absolutely not."

"My weekend, Belle-chan," he reminded her as he wiggled his fingers.  She heaved a sigh and thumped her purse into his hand.  Watching in shocked horror as he plucked all of her credit cards out of her wallet followed by the cash she'd taken out of the bank the day before, Bellaniece was caught somewhere between denial and rising panic as Kichiro stuffed all of the confiscated items—including her cell phone—into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Where do you think you're taking me?" she demanded, glancing out the window of the Cessna.

"I told you, Belle, I think you'll have a good time . . . Just keep an open mind, all right?"

"A good . . . You took my credit cards!" she snarled.

"Yeah, I did.  Just trust me, will you?"

"Oh, that's a good one!  Trust you after you just stole all my credit cards and my money?  Are you mad?  You tell me that you want me to be able to fight and take care of myself, and then you pull a stunt like this?  Give me back my things, you jerk!"

Kichiro shook his head slowly and stood up to get a cup of coffee from the pot that was bolted to the wet-bar on the other side of the plane.

By the time the plane touched down at LaGuardia, Bellaniece was stewing over Kichiro's show of high-handedness.  The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew, and the angrier she grew, the quieter she became.  He'd taken her luggage, her money, and her cell phone since he probably figured—and rightly so—that she would call her father to tell him about Kichiro's latest escapade.

At least he'd taken her to the hotel first, to freshen up, or so he'd said.  That was laughable, really, since she had nothing but her brush, a comb, and her toothbrush and paste.  She'd flopped onto the sofa and grabbed the only thing around to distract herself—a copy of New York by Night magazine.

It was inconceivable, in her opinion.  He'd brought her to New York City—the Mecca of shopping—-for 'his' weekend but had taken her credit cards and money.  He needed to replenish his wardrobe, he'd said.  In other words, she was being forced to accompany him to all the boutiques and specialty stores, but she wasn't allowed to buy a thing.  It was enough to make her want to cry.  It was cruel and unusual punishment.  If Kichiro had a heart, and she highly doubted that he did, he would give her back her credit cards and money—at least her cell phone so she could call Cain . . . Cain wouldn't be amused by this; not at all.  Bellaniece was completely dependent upon Kichiro's whims, and that certainly wouldn't sit well with Cain Zelig.

"Come on, wench.  Get your shoes on.  We're going."

That earned him a fulminating glare before Bellaniece clamped her mouth closed and set about ignoring him again.

"Don't you want to go shopping?"

Bellaniece snorted.  "I'd rather not.  Window shopping in New York City isn't my idea of fun, thanks."

"I thought you'd jump at the chance to dress me, Belle-chan.  You don't want to?"

"Not especially."

"Are you going to pout all weekend?"

"Are you going to keep my credit cards that you stole out of my purse?"

He rolled his eyes.  "I didn't steal them.  That would imply that I intend to use them, and I don't.  You can have them back as soon as we get back to Maine.  Until then, they're off-limits."

"I see," she said without glancing up from the magazine.

"Let's go."

Bellaniece pretended not to have heard him as she casually flipped the page.

He strode over and jerked the magazine out of her hands.  She glared at him.  "Are you going to stick that in your pocket, too?  You're going to run out of room in there . . ."

Kichiro planted his hands on either side of her, leaning down until his face was inches away from hers.  She'd tried his patience, and he was ready to snap.  Bellaniece forced herself not to retreat.  "This isn't open to negotiations, Belle.  You made a bet, and you lost.  Now get your shoes on, and let's go."

She wasn't sure if she was angrier that he had succeeded in intimidating her or because he hadn't given in at all.  With a heavy sigh designed to let him know just what she thought of his plan, Bellaniece slipped on her shoes and followed him to the door.


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'I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!'

Bellaniece twisted the hot water tap with her toe and scrunched up her face in a disgusted scowl.  She didn't care how much he threatened or how loud he grumbled, she wasn't coming out of the bathroom until hell froze over.  As far as she was concerned, she was finished with shopping, finished with his weekend, and finished with him.

Watching him try on suits and being measured for alterations hadn't been bad, not really.  The women in the shops had stared at him with quiet appreciation, and the clothes he'd chosen were classic and yet didn't seem stuffy, either.  Or maybe . . . Maybe that was because Kichiro, as much as she loved to tell him otherwise, would never, ever be boring.

That had been almost enjoyable.  He'd asked her about colors and fabrics, had listened to her when she would suggest a tie or an alternate shirt.  He had actually seemed to value her opinion, and it had surprised her that she could enjoy that from him.

But the last shop they'd stopped in had brought all that to an abrupt end.  Located near Saks Fifth Avenue, the new boutique was small in scale but featured the latest designs of some of the newest stars on the fashion front.   Bellaniece had fallen in love with one of the dresses on display in the window.  Completely impractical since it was a floor length evening gown created in elegant eggplant silk, she'd gazed at the dress with obvious appreciation.  Kichiro had noticed, and before she could ask him what he thought he was doing, he'd dragged her into the store and told the salesgirls to help Bellaniece try the dress on.

That had sent the girls into a whirl of measuring and pinning for alterations.  Kichiro hadn't said anything.  He simply sat back in the thickly cushioned chair outside the dressing room with a highly amused grin on his face as he sipped a cup of coffee.

Bellaniece had tried to tell the girls that she wasn't going to purchase the dress.  She hadn't even wanted to look at herself in the mirrors.  When she'd finally glanced at Kichiro for help, he had looked away, whispering something to another salesgirl and rewarding her with a brilliant smile—one that Bellaniece herself had never gotten from him.

But the final straw had been later, after Bellaniece had finally managed to wave the girls off long enough to get dressed in her own clothes.  She'd stepped out of the dressing room to find him surrounded by all the salesgirls.  A couple of them were actually touching his hair.  One was hanging onto his arm as he spoke to her in a tone that Bellaniece couldn't hear.  When he finally spotted her standing nearby, he shrugged off the girls and wandered over to her.  "Put the dress up, Belle-chan.  We're leaving."

Holding her head as high as she could manage while her cheeks flamed red and the girls giggled behind her, Bellaniece handed the dress to the nearest sales girl and followed Kichiro out of the store.

Bellaniece sank down lower in the tub, letting the bubbles surround her chin as she sulked and turned off the tap with her toe.

"Belle, you about finished?" Kichiro asked, voice muffled by the door.

She made a face and snorted as she grabbed the thick pink sponge off the side of the tub and dunked it in the water.  "I told you, right?  I'm not coming out," she called back.

"You'll get all wrinkly."

Ignoring him as she squeezed half a complimentary bottle of body wash onto the sponge, Bellaniece raised her leg and started scrubbing.

"You'll miss dinner, and I know you're hungry."

Bellaniece spared a moment to glower at the wrinkled, rumpled, dusty dress she'd worn all day and would have to wear the rest of the weekend.

"Suit yourself, but you'd better be out of that tub in fifteen minutes, or I'm coming in."

And knowing Kichiro, he meant that, too.  Too bad Bellaniece was sick of his twisted bit of fun.  There wasn't a single thing that could get her out of the tub, she figured.  She was staying there till he agreed to give her back her credit cards or agreed to take her home.

She took her time scrubbing her other leg, then her arms, consoling herself with the hollow thought that the first day of her private hell was nearly over.  'Only two more to go,' she thought with an unrepressed whimper.

Gasping loudly as the bathroom door opened, Bellaniece scrunched down further in the tub as Kichiro swept into the bathroom with a garment bag slung casually over his back.  He shot her a cursory glance and shook his head disgustedly.  "Ten minutes, Belle."

She narrowed her eyes as she glanced from him to the garment bag that he hooked on the door and back again.  "What . . . is  . . . that?"

"Don't know . . . you'll have to get out of the tub to find out, won't you?"

"I don't think so," Bellaniece grumbled.  "I'm up on all your tricks, Dr. Jekyll.  I'll be staying right here, thank you."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and shrugged carelessly.  "Suit yourself, then.  If you don't come with me, you can go hungry.  I don't care.  Take your choice."

Unleashing an irritated growl as he pulled the door closed behind himself, Bellaniece glowered at the scarlet garment bag dubiously, intent on trying not to wonder just what might be inside it.

'We could see what's in the bag, couldn't we?'

Bellaniece snorted.  'Absolutely not.'

'Just a quick peek?'

Bellaniece shot the bag a surreptitious glance.  'A peek?  No!'

'But we are kind of hungry . . .'

'I'd rather eat dirt.'

'What if it's something . . . nice?'

'Nice?  From him?  Did you lose your mind?  He doesn't do nice things . . . not for me, anyway.'

'There's always a first time, you know.'

She grimaced and sighed, glancing at the garment bag yet again.  'Maybe,' she agreed slowly.  'Then again . . . how many times have I thought he might be nice, and then . . . If that's another of his cruel tricks, I think I'd rather not know it.'

'Okay . . . How about we look, and if it's mean, we threaten him until he gives back your cards?  Would that work?  Besides, not even he could be that mean . . . right?'

Bellaniece could argue that.  She could name a few instances where he had been meaner than luring her out of the tub with an empty garment bag.  Good thing she'd rather not think about those times . . .

With a heavy sigh and the promise that she could and would hop right back into the tub, Bellaniece stood up and reached for a fluffy white towel.

The bag didn't feel empty.  Hesitantly touching the plastic bag, she bit her lip as she reached for the zipper, wincing as she grasped the plastic tab and slowly pulled . . .


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'You realize, right, there's a fairly good chance that she was dead serious about staying in that tub for the rest of the night.'

Kichiro shook his head and scowled at his reflection as he jerked out the bowtie and started over again.  'She'll look.  She'll have to.  She's too curious for her own damn good.'

'You hope.  This entire thing could blow up in your face.  You saw how upset she was today, and then making her leave the dress?  Damn, Kich, that was really, really cold . . .'

Giving up with a short growl as he left the tie dangling around his neck, he slipped on his shoes and figured he might as well go see if his princess had gotten out of the tub yet.  He hoped she had, if only to see what was in the garment bag.  If she hadn't, and if she really was set on staying in the tub all night . . . He'd find a way to get her out of it.  He just didn't really want to have to try.

She was standing in the hallway just outside the living room, wearing the same gorgeous violet silk that she'd tried on in the boutique earlier in the afternoon.  No shoes with her damp hair still caught up in a cheap plastic hair clip, she didn't seem to notice that she had an audience as she watched in mute wonder as people paraded into the hotel suite, setting up a chair and little tables and laying out all sorts of things they'd need to fix her hair and make up her face.  Kichiro chuckled softly, and Bellaniece slowly turned to stare at him.  "What is all this?"

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he ambled toward her.  "We're in New York City, Belle.  Did you think that we were getting room service and going to bed early?"

She shook her head slowly, eyes clouding with confusion.  "I don't understand," she replied, her tone wary, guarded—a tone that cut him deep.

Kichiro caught her chin and lifted her face, forced her to look at him, and he smiled.  "You going to tell me that the princess doesn't want to be pampered?"

"You did all this for me?" she asked cautiously, shifting her eyes to flick over the assembled hotel staff.

He nodded.  "Yeah, and you'd better hurry.  It's not my fault you were going to sit in the tub all night."

It happened slowly—so slowly that Kichiro had time to discern and memorize every one of the changes in those moments.  Those sapphire blue of her eyes grew just a little brighter, a little clearer, as her spiky lashes, still damp from the bath fanned over her cheeks once, twice.  Her nostrils flared for a moment as her lips parted.  The corners of her mouth drew up as the barest hint of a pink blush rose in her cheeks, dusted the bridge of her nose.

There it was.  The smile he'd counted on.  Kichiro smiled back, kissed her forehead, and gently pushed her toward the living room.

He leaned in the doorway, content to watch as the hotel staff fussed over Bellaniece.  The simple yet elegant gown seemed like it was designed just for her, and he couldn't help but wonder how many devastated men she'd leave in her wake tonight.

The dress clung to her frame but wasn't too tight; the alterations had been money well spent, as far as Kichiro was concerned.  Every movement, every breath . . . He could see everything about her.  The dress hid nothing but covered everything, and when she hopped up onto the high stool set up in the middle of the living room, the thigh-high slit up the right side of her skirt fell open to reveal her absolutely perfect legs.  He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, resigned to wait as patiently as he possibly could while Bellaniece basked in the total and complete attentions of the makeup and hair stylists.

He caught the eye of one of the stylists and jerked his head to bring her over.  "Her hair needs to be up off her neck," he instructed without taking his eyes off Bellaniece.

"Of course, sir," the woman said.  "She's lovely; just lovely."

He shook his head as a slow smile surfaced.  "She's absolutely gorgeous," he corrected.

The woman chuckled and nodded in agreement before hurrying away to carry out her instructions.

Someone stuck a glass of champagne into his hand.  He didn't notice.  So enthralled in watching Bellaniece, he didn't pay as much attention to the staff.  The makeup girl was finished and packing away her supplies.  She hadn't done much.  Bellaniece didn't need much in the way of embellishment.  A hint of mascara and a smudge of lavender eye shadow . . . no blush, just a touch of deep pink lip stain.  Kichiro's smile widened as he lifted the champagne flute to his lips.

Forty-five minutes later, Kichiro closed the door behind the last stylist and turned around to face Bellaniece.  She straightened her shoulders and waited with a timid smile on her face.

"So?" she finally asked, biting her lip as her cheeks pinked.

He nodded slowly, a vague smile turning up the corners of his lips.  "You'll do," he mumbled gruffly.  "You, uh . . . You clean up nicely."

She ducked her chin but smiled wider as she smoothed the dress over her hips.  "I won't embarrass you?"

"I doubt it . . . Are you going to try?"

She giggled.  "I might . . ."

He sighed and unrolled his sleeves, taking his time as he worked the buttons on the cuffs.  Bellaniece sauntered toward him, catching the ends of his tie and tugging them to even them out.  He lifted his chin and let her work the tie.  She pulled it snug and patted it in place.  "There."

"Not bad," he said as he checked the mirror.  "Thank you."

Bellaniece nodded and shrugged.  "So . . . Are we going somewhere or did we get all dressed up for nothing?"

"Patience, wench.  Don't rush me."

"I thought . . . I thought you meant to spend all weekend humiliating me," Bellaniece admitted softly.  Staring out the window at the brightly lit city, she peeked over her shoulder and smiled.  "I'm glad you're not."

"Belle . . . that wasn't ever the intention.  I hope you know that."

"Then what is?"

He wandered over to her, ran his claw along the back of her shoulder.  She shivered slightly but didn't pull away.  "You can . . . You can trust me, you know.  You can let me take care of you."

She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.  "That's what you . . . want?  To take care of me?"

"Yeah, I do," he whispered.  "Can you do that?  Can you let me?"

Bellaniece opened her mouth to answer.  A brusque knock on the door interrupted.  He sighed and shot her an apologetic look before striding over to answer the door.

"Delivery for Dr. Izayoi."

Kichiro nodded and handed over his driver's license as he looked over the paperwork before signing his name at the bottom.  The delivery man handed him a box.  Kichiro closed the door and slipped the box onto the table behind the sofa.

Bellaniece gazed expectantly at him.  "What's that?"

He shrugged.  "Open it."

She looked dubious and reached for the box but jerked her hand away.  He chuckled.  "It won't bite you, I promise."

"It's a . . ." she trailed off then cleared her throat, her hand fluttering delicately at the base of her neck.  "It's a jeweler's box."

"That'd be my guess," Kichiro agreed.

"I don't think—"

He took the box and opened the lid, nodding slowly before he snapped it closed again.  "You don't need to," he told her.  "It'd be a shame to have them and not wear them, though . . ." His eyes shifted but he didn't move his head.  "You want to see them, princess?  Who knows?  They might . . . change your mind."

Bellaniece pressed her lips together as she considered his words.  She wanted to see what was in the box.  Her curiosity was a palpable thing.  He wasn't sure why she was being so reluctant.  Slowly, carefully, he opened the box again, and even more slowly, he turned it around to show her.

Her gasp was shocking in the quiet room.  Her eyes widened dramatically as her hands shot up to cover her mouth.  Bellaniece shook her head and stepped back in retreat.  Kichiro chuckled as he lifted the heavily laden with huge diamonds and amethysts mounted in platinum necklace from the nest of royal blue silk.   Stepping around Bellaniece, he draped it around her neck and worked the clasp to fasten it as Bellaniece stared in the mirror beside the door.  "Are these . . . real?" she asked as she fingered the stones.

"I certainly hope so.  If not, then the jeweler needs to be shot."

"You didn't . . . You didn't buy this, did you?"

He chuckled as he retrieved the earrings and carefully clasped them on her earlobes.  "Relax, Belle-chan.  These are on loan."

She smiled for an instant before she whipped around to face him, apprehension dawning in her eyes.  "I can't . . . what if I lose them?  What if we get mugged?"

"It's fine, Belle.  If they get stolen, there's always insurance.  If they get lost . . . Just don't lose them, okay?"

She shook her head.  "Oh, no . . ."

Kichiro shrugged and chuckled softly.  "I'll make you a deal.  You concentrate on having a good time, and I'll worry about the jewelry."

She winced.  He reached out, touched her cheek.  "Trust me, princess."

She gulped but nodded at last.  "Okay."

Kichiro pulled his jacket as Bellaniece fidgeted with the necklace.  He opened the door and waited for her.  "Oh, and Belle?"

"Yes?"

"You look . . . beautiful."

She seemed surprised by his appraisal, but she smiled and blushed as he slipped an arm around her waist to escort her to the elevator.


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Final Thought from Kichiro
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Beautiful
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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Justification):  I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

~Sue~