Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Life Insured ❯ Who is Kenshin Himura? ( Chapter 2 )

"Life Insured"

Chapter 2: Who is Kenshin Himura?

Kaoru fumbled with the packet of dairy creamer, hoping futilely that the small cylinder wouldn't open rapidly and spill all over like it had the last few mornings. It seemed she was always unlucky around food items…she couldn't cook anything right, even if it just was coffee. She resisted the urge to throw the little bugger on the ground and smash it with her heels, and instead resumed in shaking it vigorously.

"Uh…Good morning, Miss Kaoru." Kaoru jumped at the sound of the soft male voice.

She looked up to see that Kenshin had just entered the break room, a small paper sack held in his hand. She looked down after a second to notice that she had somehow gotten the creamer open. "Well, I'll be…" she muttered.

"Pardon me?" He asked.

"Oh, no…it's nothing."

He shrugged lightly, pulling out a chair to hunch his self over the circular table. She watched, mesmerized as he laid out a carefully wrapped sandwich, an apple and a box of crackers in front of him with easy precision. He was so meticulous. She suddenly realized that, even if he couldn't see her, she was staring and it was impolite of her. She turned back to the coffee in front of her.

Sometimes her eyes couldn't help but stray Kenshin's way, though. Even if he was thin and almost delicate he stood out immeasurably among the heavy, balding men of their sector. His hair was a lush, deep red, his skin as pale and perfect as snow, and his face curved pleasantly with its high cheekbones. Whenever he turned to speak to her, he never spared the warm smile.

But, it wasn't just his physical features and diminutive size that made him so noticeable- it was also his carriage. Every task he performed was done in perfection, as if he was devoting all of his focus to them. When he walked down the hallway to the water cooler, or out to the elevator, there was an unnaturally cool swing to his body. And even if he often hunched over in the face of the menacing Saitou, she saw steel in his movements when he was left to his own devices.

There was also something else that continually fascinated her about him- it was a scar on his face. Long and brutal-looking, the cuts made a huge cross on his left cheek. He had never mentioned it, nor tried to hide it, but she had seen him rubbing his fingers over it before, absently, as if it brought back some memory to him. She had always wanted to know where it had come from… but never asked. Kenshin was the kind of man that you felt like you could tell anything to, yet could not ask anything of. He was an enigma to her, even if they talked frequently as friends.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked, as she edged up towards the table while stirring her cup of coffee.

Kenshin looked up at her, smiling his normal bright smile. But, unlike usual, the smile didn't reach his eyes. She noticed sometimes the distant look in his eyes, and it always perplexed her. They were duller then normal, and his gaze flitted away from her in distraction as she pulled out the plastic chair beside him.

"What's wrong? You haven't been looking very lively lately."

Kenshin looked surprised, and then shook it off. "I'm just thinking, that I am."

Kaoru giggled. " `That I am'? Kenshin, you speak so formally." She gave him a sly look as his hands moved to unwrap the sandwich before him. "Are you sure it's not women troubles?" she teased.

Kaoru could have sworn that if Kenshin's eyes could have popped out of his sockets on their own, they would have. "That it…well…I-" he stumbled futilely, opening his hands in defense.

She laughed at his surprise, patting his hand with her own. "I'm just teasing you. Though, I would have supposed that you would have a wife who would make a nice sandwich like that to pack in your lunch." She nodded at the perfectly formed layers of bread, cheese and meat held in his hands. "It looks tasty."

He shook his head in relief, his eyes turned down to his food. "I do all the cooking for myself, that I do."

Silence fell over them for a moment as Kenshin leaned down to take a bite of his sandwich, and Kaoru fixed her eyes on the steaming cup of coffee in her hands that she still was stirring. She pulled a disgusted face. She wasn't even sure why she had bothered to make it in the first place. It was only inevitable that she would just toss it into the sink after spitting out the first taste. Instead of taking the fatal sip, she instead set the coffee cup on the Formica tabletop.

"Hey, Kenshin…?"

"Yes, Miss Kaoru?"

"Are you any good at making coffee?"

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Sano waited for the assistant to scoop the fallen files from the floor. He didn't try to contain his sigh. The kid was a klutz- understandable because of his age, but the fact that he was in a building of federal agents made his inability stand out like a sore thumb.

"Hey, Kid. Before Christmas rolls around, OK?" He rolled his eyes.

The head of spiky, black hair shot up indignantly from the ground, the tanned face twisting sourly. "I'm not a kid, alright? And I'm moving as fast as I can. It's not my fault that somebody had to ask for everything ever filed since 3000 B.C.!" He made a point of glaring at the brown-haired agent each time he reached for a file off the floor.

"Well it wasn't my fault that somebody who shall remain nameless threw them all over my office." Sano ran lazy fingers through his bangs, tapping a pen eagerly on the side of the desk. No matter how he tried not to show it, Sanosuke was impatient to see the files and ID's. He had been asking for access for them for quite some time. And, now that he and Megumi had been stuck on this particular case, he would be able to read through them freely.

With a false smile, Yahiko plunked the group of files onto Sanosuke's desk, immediately turning around to leave.

"Thanks, Little Yahiko!" Sano called out in saccharine sweetness, with a delicate wave of his fingers. He grunted at the assistant's hand gesture placed strategically over one shoulder… That certainly wasn't a finger one would show in the presence of their mother.

Ignoring the angry rattle of the blinds on the door that Yahiko had slammed when leaving, Sano sat up straight in his chair to review the files. The files were some of the most confidential in the building. If any suspicious person were to find out that they had a hold of the information contained in it, their agents might be killed. They were files that the police had never had access to, and for good reason.

Sano looked appreciatively at the black-and-white snapshot that lay front and foremost in the folder. This was the elusive man they were hunting for, but never seemed to find. Makoto Shishio. Shadowed and untraceable, he had been the leader of an underground mafia for over ten years since quitting his job as a military leader of great power in the government. His mafia had been growing in influence and power by the year, secretly taking control of industries on the sly, without any law enforcement being able to reach them. They were a frighteningly powerful bunch, deluded by power and a skewed world view.

Sanosuke turned the first page, seeing the roster of possible members. Some had had their existence completely wiped off the map, making it impossible to track them down, such as Shishio's right hand helpers- Yumi Komagata, the beautiful temptress, Hojo Sadojima, the chief organizer and Soujiro Seta, known as the assassin with the unfaltering smile. Other members of Shishio's clan held respectable jobs as covers for their underground activities, which made it almost equally hard to pin anything down on them.

Sano flipped on his desk light, knowing that tonight he would be burning the midnight oil. Normally, he would give himself plenty of time to pore through files as extensive as these. But, he had only so long before their time would run out.

Megumi had been out in the field for weeks now, trying to infiltrate the tight group of members. If she was able to gain trust of any of them, Sano just might have the both deserved.

Besides, with what Megumi had told him about this "hitter" of Shishio's, the operation was growing in possibility of success.

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Kenshin just couldn't focus on his work today. The papers beside his elbow just kept piling up, and the telephone kept on ringing, but his thoughts weren't on insurance sales or on needy clients.

Instead, every time he tried to scan an insurance claim, Seijuro Hiko's words had come back to him.

"You don't belong in this cubicle. You don't fit that chair. Don't you ever want to do something more exciting with your life?"

He kept attempting to shake it from his memory, but that hadn't done him much good so far. In truth, he wasn't sure how he had felt about Hiko's assessment. Kenshin wasn't particularly unhappy where he was. It was the kind of life he had decided in favor of, long ago. There was no excitement, no surprises and best of all, no danger. It was simple, clean, rewarding work. There were times, when he'd walk down the sidewalk in his too-short slacks and his white shirtsleeves, and look at the men that walked beside him. They were different than he was, he supposed.

He remembered how he had promised her that he would do good things in the world. He had planned to be someone without fear, that wouldn't let anyone get hurt ever again. Kenshin had found, though, that it had been a difficult process for him. It was hard at this stage in his life to try to again be someone without bounds, or rules or…staplers arranged strategically next to their paperclip jars.

He looked at the stapler and sighed. Sometimes he didn't think he wanted to be "Mr. Nice Guy" anymore. Kenshin wasn't a man in favor of violence. He didn't believe in Hiko's philosophy of violence or cruelty being instinctual human behavior. But he had found that being nice seemed to mean that everyone took the initiative to walk all over you. The tale of his life seemed to tell that even if you were the nicest person in the world, you still got hurt.

Suddenly, he looked up to see Saitou towering over him. He raised an innocently inquisitive eyebrow at the manager as he snapped out of his reverie. Saitou leaned on one of the dividers as if he had no care in the world. His yellowy eyes pierced Kenshin's in shining scrutiny.

"Not much work done, eh, Himura?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Kenshin tactfully chose not to respond, although he was fuming inwardly.

Saitou peered lazily at the clock on the wall. "Well, you're going to have to stay late tonight to finish up. You're the only one who knows how to handle those forms properly."

He was glad to see the blue-clothed figure turn sharply on his heel. Then Saitou, almost as if with a second thought, turned back to face Kenshin. He decidedly plopped a large stack of papers that he had been carrying, on to Kenshin's desk.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I also need you to get this stack of claims filed by tonight." Without even bothering to thank Kenshin or apologize for inconveniencing him, Saitou returned in his normal strut to go poke his long nose into some other worker's business.

Kenshin's eyes followed him as he left, and then returned with disdain to the monolith pile of claims. Great. Saitou seemed to always find Kenshin when he needed something done last minute…it was all too convenient. And Kenshin knew he wouldn't do anything about it. Most of the other workers had cleared out of the office- it was after six o'clock. Computers were being shut down, chairs pushed in, file folders clicked shut, and Kenshin was looking forward to another few hours of work.

Just when Kenshin had groaned softly at the thought of more paperwork, the shrill ring of the phone cut through his thoughts. He crawled his fingers distractedly over the mounds of papers to the phone, and snatched it up gently in his fingers. Absently shaking his red bangs from his face, he placed the phone at his ear.

"Imperial Insurance, Himura speaking. How may I help you?" He had been trained to answer the phone with a smile on his face. It would show in his voice and make the customer feel more comfortable, the administrators had nagged constantly. He didn't have the energy to smile.

The caller at the other end didn't say anything for a moment, and Kenshin rubbed the bridge of his nose in impatience. "Hello? May I ask who is calling?"

"This is the man named `Kenshin'?" the soft voice at the end was barely distinguishable, and it spoke Kenshin's name as if it were only a nickname.

"…That it is…who am I speaking to?" Kenshin said warily, his eyebrow quirking in response. He scooted up closer to the desk, an air of confusion falling over him. Whoever was calling him sure enjoyed playing with the anonymity of telephone conversations.

"Never mind who it is." Though Kenshin had ditched the customary smile, he heard the wide grin on the face of the man on the other end. Even if the words out of the speaker's mouth were perfectly polite, it made an unexplainable chill of fear run up his spine. "The boss is in need of your services very soon."

Kenshin frowned deeply, his soft face marred by the dip of his dark eyebrows. "The boss? Who's this? Sir, are you calling for Imperial Insurance?" He felt odd calling the disembodied voice "sir", considering it sounded as if it might belong to a teenaged boy. But, being the ever-polite man he was, Kenshin didn't feel like offending a prospective customer and have the wrath of customer service rules fall on his head.

The voice went on with his monologue, as if Kenshin's questions weren't something he was concerned with. "You will stay where you are for the next week. We will contact you in that space of time. You are to remain static."

"Static..? I- who is this?!" Kenshin questioned loudly, frustrated with the lack of response. His question was met with a dull click and a steady tone that signified the caller had hung up. He stared at the phone in utter confusion for a long moment, as if willing the receiver to give him answers. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did the helplessness feel so familiar?

He set the phone back dazedly in the cradle, sitting back in his chair slowly. Who was this "boss" that the boy had mentioned? He placed a worried hand on his forehead, swiping back his bangs nervously. Maybe it had been a mistake. Perhaps they had gotten the wrong number. The boy hadn't even confirmed that what he wanted was an insurance company.

And then Kenshin paused in his thoughts, a lump of dread rising in this throat. But he said my first name specifically…before I even told it to him. Kenshin gulped deeply.

Could it be…No, it couldn't be him. He's been dead for nine years now. He quickly shook off the unwanted memory.

He looked down at his hands, realizing that he had been twirling a pen around nervously for the last few minutes as the thoughts had raced through his head. He was about to set the pen down on the unfinished paperwork in front of him, but then stopped in the middle of the action. It was then that he realized that the blue pen in his hand was the one that Seijuro Hiko, his strange client from two days before, had thrown at him.

He frowned again. This call made the count now two unexplainable strange events that had involved him, in the past three days. Could this call possibly be related to the shadowed words Hiko had spoke to him? Could that burly, graceful man somehow be linked with the smiling voice on the other end?

Kenshin rotated the pen slowly in deft fingers, until he saw words printed on the other side of the pen. It was a name of a hotel.

He squinted at the thin, white lettering.

Aoiya Inn.

And there was a number printed right below the name.

Things were getting even stranger. The name of the inn was well known to businessmen…even the most virtuous. It was on the bad side of town- a seedy motel with shattered bulbs on a flickering neon sign- the kind of place with broken asphalt in its un-repaired parking lot, and no water in the unused rectangle-shaped hole in the cement that was falsely named "the pool." Kenshin had never been, but he knew it was the place you brought a woman that wasn't your wife. Moreover, it was the place one brought a woman that wasn't their wife, behind their wife's back.

He picked up the phone, and tentatively extended a finger to press in the number for the inn. Since when would he find himself calling the Aoiya Inn while sitting at a desk in the Imperial insurance building?

Nevertheless, with one deep breath, Kenshin pushed the seven digits into the phone, and waited as three shrill rings sounded in his ear. What did one say to the lobby of a "love hotel"? He tapped a finger on the desk in front of him, part of him wishing that nobody would answer. His tiny hope was dashed when, on the fifth ring, a woman picked up.

"This is the Aoiya, a place of comfort and safety. How may I help you?" The lady on the other end sounded bored, the speech recited, flat and meaningless.

Kenshin considered what to say for a moment, before he spoke the words shakily. "Would you happen to have a customer staying there by the name of…Hiko Seijuro? I would like to speak to him."

"Hiko?" She asked in mild confusion. Kenshin suddenly realized with dread that perhaps Hiko had never been to the hotel before. After this call, he could be back at square one.

"Oh!" the young-ish voice of the woman spoke again. "Sorry… no one has asked for `Hiko' in quite a long while. I'll patch him through in just a second."

Kenshin muttered an affirmative response. Could the man's name be something other than Hiko? He waited as the girl sent his call to the room in which the customer was staying.

Seconds later, Hiko Seijuro picked up the phone, his gruff, deep voice booming in Kenshin's ear. "Yeah…who is it?" Kenshin opened his mouth to speak, when Hiko interrupted him. This time his speech was muffled as it was directed to someone else in the room with him. "Go put some clothes on. I might be a while."

Though Kenshin couldn't see the bare body of the woman in the background, he still felt a hot blush spread over him. There was no doubt in his mind that Hiko had been to the Aoiya before. Hiko moved his mouth back toward the receiver, his attention back on Kenshin. "Who is it?" he asked again.

Remembering again the reason that he had called, Kenshin cleared his throat to speak up. "This is Kenshin Himura. I spoke to you at Imperial Insurance the other day." He sounded more demanding than usual.

Hiko was silent for a moment, until the name struck him. "Ah, yes… the idiot insurance agent. How are you?"

Kenshin hummed in annoyance at the insult, but plowed on through to his problem. "Do you happen to know, by any chance, why I just received a…message from someone called `the boss'? It was some teenager on the phone." He sucked in a quiet breath, half hoping that Hiko wouldn't have an answer for him. It might confirm that the whole ordeal was just the result of a wrong number or a trouble-making kid. He crossed his fingers absently.

Hiko snorted with amusement. "So soon you figured it out. Maybe you're not as dull a mind as I thought you were."

Kenshin frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing at the tone. He didn't see what was so funny that the man had to laugh at his expense. "What do you mean? What do you have to do with that call…I mean, what do I have to do with whatever they were talking about?"

The man sounded distracted again, as if he were admiring the woman standing in front of him instead of minding the safety of the man on the other end. "Didn't you say you wanted excitement?" he asked it simply, as if it were Kenshin's fault that he were in this mess.

Kenshin sniffed indignantly. "I never said anything of the sort! I said I didn't need excitement, if you had listened to me correctly!" Kenshin was now absolutely positive that he didn't like this man.

"Well, it's a little late now. They have your name, they know where you are, and I can guarantee they're not letting go very soon."

"Who are `they'-"

Hiko interrupted him swiftly. "Look, I was looking for a vacation, and I really would like to continue with it. You've got something to gain here from this- think of it as a good experience. It's not so bad once you get used to the blood…" he chuckled humorlessly.

"BLOOD?!"

"Don't you get it, boy? You're me now. You've got what they want."

"What they want…?"

"You're a hit man now."

Kenshin's stomach hit the ground in a second flat, and he felt like shaking the phone to make sure it was working properly. His mind began to rotate around the facts like a creaky clock, and the fear and adrenaline he had felt before were rising very quickly. Two seconds later the words hit him in full force.

"I'M NOT A HIT MAN!" He screeched it loudly, completely forgetting that he was in his cubicle, in his office, in a purely respectable part of the downtown business sector.

Hiko warned him disdainfully. "I'd keep your voice down if I were you. I don't think that silly manager of you would approve of mafia talk in that immaculate office of his."

Kenshin lowered his voice into an angry hiss, dragging the phone and cradle to the far corner of the desk where hopefully, anybody walking by would be least likely to hear him. "Mafia?! I'm not associated with the mafia."

Hiko barked out a laugh. "Well, you're no fun. I was with the mafia… funny how things change, isn't it? I gave my boss your name so I could get a little shuteye here."

"Since when do hit men work on recommendation?" He spat it out. This was just absurd.

"I thought you might be perfect for the job- competent and smart with the reflexes and all… but perhaps I overestimated your ability. They obviously haven't realized we're not the same person, though…they've never actually seen my face. I was the `silent killer,' see?" He paused, waiting for Kenshin to be impressed.

After the tense silence dragged on for a little longer, he began talking again. "Look, Kenshin. You've got two choices here."

"What are they?" his voice was a subdued growl… half of his mind had yet to grasp what was going on, but the half that had, was certainly not pleased.

"Either you do what they tell you to do…or they kill you."

"What?!"

"It's a simple as that. Anyway, there's a reason I chose you of all people. I saw it when I visited you. You've got power in there you've never thought to harness- there's a personality inside you that you don't try to think about. Why not use it?"

"Now look here- none of that is any of your concern. I'm going get a hold of the police, and-"

"I wouldn't call anybody- trust me. It will only make things worse. Now, as nice as it has been chatting to you again, I really have to go."

"Aren't you going to explain? You're just going to have to call them and tell them I'm not-" Kenshin scrambled frantically.

"Bye, now!" The voice was overly cheerful, and before Kenshin could interject again, he was met with the sound of yet another person hanging up on him in mid-sentence.

What the hell is going on? Kenshin stared at the phone, horrified.

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On the other side of the cubicle divider, Kaoru was leaning over her desk, her heart trapped in her throat, and her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. It was as if she were afraid to breathe too loud, or she might be discovered eavesdropping.

Was what she had heard… correct? She had been minding her own business, but as the office had cleared out, Kenshin's frantic conversation with an unidentified person was drifting over to her ears. As the red-haired insurance agent on the other side returned the phone to its holder, Kaoru let out a long breath of relief and confusion. She didn't want to move at all out of fear.

Why was Kenshin, the seemingly sweet-minded and innocent coworker of hers discussing murder over the phone- and in relation to the mafia, no less?

Kaoru turned shakily to the document she had just been about to finish, now crumpled beyond recognition in her palms.

Just who is Kenshin Himura?

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A/N: Poor, poor Kenshin… he really isn't up for this adventure stuff, is he? At least he's smart, and picked up the pen thing… observant, yes?

Well, please let me know what you think so far!