“One thinks,” Kenshin said mildly, scarf about his neck, Kaoru’s grocery list tucked into his sleeve and pole with buckets slung over his shoulder, “a Companion must have better things to do than to follow this one about, that you do.”
A horse-shaped patch of whiteness detached itself from the blaze of sunlight it’d been trying to hide in. :Nope.:
“Sano.” Kenshin kept walking, trying to ignore the chime of silver hooves behind him. It was harder to ignore the odd looks from passers-by; worried and uneasy from Yamato, puzzled – and sometimes, oddly enough, amused – from the Valdemarans in this part of town. “You are making this one obvious.”
:And the pink gi doesn’t?:
“It’s not pink.”
Just one thump, Battousai pleaded. Just one? We know his head can take it.
No, Kenshin thought, once again. I will not harm him simply because he is… annoying.
Though that was a mild way to describe how the Companion’s constant presence had grated on his nerves these past few days. In the dojo, in the streets; waking, sleeping, even when he was trying to meditate – Sano was just constantly there. A bright blaze of ki amongst quieter humans; spiritual brightness, like a miko’s, that ningen turned toward like flowers seeking sun.
It was sending the youkai side of him into snarling fits.
Tearing firewood apart – not enough. I need to slip him. Just for a little while. I need….
Thought and action blended as he rounded a corner; Kenshin leapt, buckets and all, touching down on a two-story roof.
:Hey! What – where-:
Eyes closed, Kenshin pictured one of the most silent kata he knew; not of Hiten Mitsurugi, but one he’d picked up amongst the Ishin Shishi. Meant for a guard, in the night, who could see nothing yet suspected something was very much there.
Darkness. Silence. Move forward and right into low stance, soundless, blade sheathed; tap the end of the saya against the ground to draw your enemy there. Soundless back, battou-jutsu stance, and strike-