Entreaty

The first thing Miyori felt after her request was an elbow in her ribs.
She barely avoided squeaking in surprise and held her pose, turning her head slowly to shoot Kenshin a glare. 

He shook his head faintly at her, eyes wide. 

Resolutely, she turned away, looking at the man in front of her instead. 

"I see," he said. "I begin to understand." He set his cup down and gave her a grave nod. "My name is Satoshi Kusumoto, though I'd ask you not to share it with others too lightly."

Miyori bowed again, less deeply this time. "I understand." 

"Takasu-kun made a deal with us to find what information he could. Kenshin-kun, I believe you witnessed this agreement?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Then for that reason, and because you're hoping for our help, I hope you're both willing to share everything that you know about this case so far." 

Miyori laid out as much as she could, starting with what Noa had told her about his curse, continuing through her experiences with Iseki, and ending with the strange spell in the warehouse and the people that had descended on Noa and taken him away. 

When she was finished, Kusumoto leaned back and hummed quietly, deep in thought. 

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he said. "But as I'm sure you're aware, there are a great many unanswered questions remaining in the case of your young friend. We don't know much more than you do." 

Miyori's heart sank. "I'm very aware, yes. But I was hoping…." 

"Now, now, there's no need to despair yet. It's possible that my people have some more pieces of the puzzle." He sighed. "The problem isn't just gathering information; it's understanding how it fits together. Intelligence gathering is a delicate process, as Takasu-kun has learned to his detriment. Show your hand too early, and you can be…removed. Or collected, as it seems he has been." 

Miyori nodded. 

"The fact that he was collected is a piece of information in itself," Kusumoto said. "He could have been arrested, discredited, or even attacked…but they opted for a method that might leave a trail."

"A trail?" Did he mean a trail that could be followed?

"Perhaps." The man shook his head. "You are young and unaffiliated, but even you must suspect that the fae have rules. Rules upon traditions upon expectations. And recklessly involving outsiders in our ways goes against all of those things." He gave Miyori a solemn look. "We do not help outsiders easily, either. Even when they ask us so very politely." 

Miyori nodded, biting her lip. 

"But it seems at least one other family has broken this rule first—and rather dramatically at that. Under the circumstances, your request merits consideration." And then he paused, as though actually considering. "Wait here." 

Miyori and Kenshin stayed obediently seated as he stood and walked out of the room. He moved with a heavy grace that didn't match his years, like a martial artist. 

Miyori now knew his name, and suspected he was someone very important, but knew nothing else about him. "Is he much like your other contact?" she whispered to Kenshin. "The other Kusumoto-san?" 

"Completely different," Kenshin said. "Not to mention scarier." 

"I see." Miyori understood that, and also didn't. The man she'd talked to seemed very stern, but not much more than, say, a principal or a CEO. He had power coming off him in waves, but she wasn't sure whether it was strength, magic, or simply the charisma of an experienced leader. 

But perhaps he was just being kind because he'd decided to take pity on her. She couldn't ignore that possibility. 

There was an odd whoosh and a thump from deeper inside the house—the sort of sounds Miyori wouldn't notice if the room she and Kenshin were in wasn't completely quiet. 

The footsteps that followed, however, were difficult to miss. They were young, loud, and rapid, ending with a shadow at the screen door and a demanding, "Well?" 

"Patience," said Kusumoto's voice, a little sterner than it had been. "You'll find out soon enough. Go put those boots in the genkan; you know the rules of this house." 

The door opened, and a young man stormed through, large boots in hand, leaving a surly "Yes, sir" in his wake. 

Miyori turned to stare after him, then realized that was probably rude and brought her attention back to Kusumoto. 

He gave her a small smirk. "Not all young people are as polite as you, Miyori-san," he murmured, and then turned with a sardonic expression to the newcomer, who had returned bootsless. "Come, take a seat." 

The newcomer grabbed a zabuton and slung it to the unoccupied side of the table. "Pixie business?" he demanded, looking incredulous. "Why would you want me for that? Am I really—" 

"You are going to do right by your family and your name, as always," Kusumoto said, cutting him off smoothly. "And that includes being civil to our guests. Ogimuras, meet Koji Kusumoto. He is my grandson, and does good work for the family. Koji, these are Kenshin-kun and Miyori-san. Kenshin-kun has worked for us in the past, but Miyori-san is just starting out." 

Koji looked them over. He had dark hair that fell into his eyes and barely reached his shoulders, and sharp, greenish-brown eyes. He gave them a cursory bow. "Pleased to meet you." 

He didn't sound it, but Miyori bowed back anyway. 

"Now, Kenshin-kun." Kusumoto turned to him. "It was very admirable of you to accompany Miyori-san today, but filial piety need only go so far. If you would like to continue in this investigation, I'm afraid we will need to revisit the nature of our working relationship." 

Kenshin swallowed. "Meaning?" 

"This would require a blood oath," Kusumoto said plainly, "and I don't believe you've yet taken that step. If you do, be warned—it is not something easily undone." 

Kenshin looked at Miyori, expression helpless. 

Miyori nodded. "He doesn't need to stay," she said. "I'll continue on my own, if you'll allow me." 

Kusumoto raised an eyebrow. "That might be wise," he said. "If your cousin will agree to it, of course." 

Kenshin stared between them, opening his mouth and then shutting it again. 

"Kenshin-nii," Miyori said, when it became clear he didn't know what to choose. "It's okay. You can go." 

"But," he muttered, "but you're—" 

"I've already decided that I'm doing this," she told him. "You can't stop me, but that doesn't mean you have to join me. It might be safer if you don't, honestly." 

Kenshin looked torn. 

"You should listen to her," Koji said casually. "I'd like to minimize dead weight in my operations. Easier to look after one normie than two." 

Kenshin shook himself and then stood. 

"One thing," Kusumoto said. "Step forward." 

Kenshin walked across the table. Kusumoto gave him an assessing look, and then pressed a fingertip to his shoulder and said a string of words too fast and quiet for Miyori to follow. Then he said, "Do you agree?" 

Kenshin nodded. "I agree." 

There was an odd, muted snap, and then Kenshin stumbled backward, rubbing at his shoulder. 

"That will last for a month or two," Kusumoto said, "give or take. Don't let anyone see it, and keep your mouth shut about what you've heard so far, and things can continue exactly as they have been." He looked to Miyori. "That means not telling your cousin how this proceeds, either. Be warned." 

"Yes, sir," Kenshin said. "Thank you, sir." 

And he flew for the door without a backward glance.

Kusumoto glanced at Koji. "Help our guest with the front door, would you?" 

Koji rolled his eyes, but stood and did as he was asked. 

Miyori watched him go, then turned back to Kusumoto. He had stood quietly and reached for the cupboard again. He returned with a roll of fabric, a needle, and what appeared to be a tiny first-aid kit. 

"Now," he said, "these next few steps may seem alarming, but I promise you'll complete them with a minimum of bloodshed."

He smiled, and there was a slight edge to that smile.

Miyori reminded herself that she'd decided to trust him and straightened her back, holding her head high. "I'd appreciate that, thank you. I'll do as you say."