Blade Of The Immortal Fan Fiction ❯ Abstinence Education ❯ Part Twenty-Six ( Chapter 26 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Madame Manga 
No news is good news; if only reading intentions was as easy as turning pages...
Anime/Manga: Blade Of The Immortal Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Samurai | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.18.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Completed
No news is good news; if only reading intentions was as easy as turning pages...
Anime/Manga: Blade Of The Immortal Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Samurai | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.18.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 1.0K | Status: Completed
I tinkered with this chapter far too long, and it had a natural break, so I broke it in two for manageability. Let's just say that writing the second part was a LOT easier! *evil cackle*
No news is good news; if only reading intentions was as easy as turning pages...
The characters and universe of Blade of the Immortal/Mugen no Junin are copyright by Hiroaki Samura and do not belong to me. Not one sen will come into my hands in consequence of this story.
Warnings for sex in various forms, including quasi-incestuous themes and a sixteen-year-old female paired with an adult male. Violence and dismemberment are legally required in any BotI fic, so be prepared.
Rin's fairy tale is the traditional basis of Tanabata-Matsuri, a Japanese festival held in summer, when Vega (Oto-hime, the Weaver Princess) and Altair (Hiko-boshi, the Herdsman) are prominent in the sky.
Abstinence Education
by Madame Manga
Part Twenty-Six
Why would he be here at all?
Perhaps because Anotsu Kagehisa wasn't Manji. He couldn't heal a serious wound in the space of ten breaths, and he couldn't recover in just a few days from illness and exhaustion that had nearly killed him. As little as Rin liked to think of him that way, he was a human being. She grimaced at her rice bowl.
Manji made an inquiring grunt; Rin jumped.
“Oh–uh, nothing. I have a little stomach ache...“ She massaged her belly.
So Anotsu was probably still somewhat weak and needed escort on the road from a willing and vigilant friend. Rin realized he might not have set out to return to Edo until five or ten days ago, around the time she and Manji had started to–
She shouldn't think about him any more. During the whole meal her bodyguard had been sitting across from her drinking potfuls of hot tea and examining her as closely as if he wanted to read her thoughts. Rin didn't want him even to guess at what was in her mind right now. She picked up her bowl of rice and slowly pushed some into her mouth.
Maybe her overexcited imagination had conjured her enemy among the spectators on the inn veranda. She hadn't seen his face nor even his outline; all she had to go on was a fleeting impression from a distance. Still, his presence remained so clear in her mind that she believed she could have recognized him in any disguise. Revenge against Anotsu had been the focal point of her life ever since the deaths of her parents, and now that she was no longer completely sure of her hatred, the way she had formed her young mind around her one great goal might be changing as well.
The rice tasted sour in her mouth; she swallowed with difficulty.
Strange how a slim and smooth-featured young man could project such an aura of power, like a deadly blade in beautiful fittings. A queer twinge rippled through Rin's chest and stomach and she slowly lowered her bowl, her appetite gone. No, Anotsu was nothing at all like her rough, straightforward, dearly beloved Manji. Acid pooled in the corners of her mouth and seemed to drip straight into her heart. Even if Makie was right and he would treat her with respect and kindness...
She shouldn't think about him. Ever.
Manji grunted at her again; she looked down and realized he was tapping his empty teacup. She poured for him, wiped the spout of the pot and carefully set it down.
“Manji-san?“
“Hnn?“< br>
“Um, would you mind if I, uh, went to the bathhouse for a while?“
He lifted a brow at her over the rim of his cup.
“I know, I had a bath already today, but, uh, I got very sweaty...“ She flushed and poked at her rice with her hashi. “So I thought I'd feel better if I at least rinsed off a little before, um, bedtime...“
Manji said nothing, but sniffed meditatively. When Rin pushed aside her unfinished meal and rose, he glanced up at her. He seemed to have gotten over the worst of his drunkenness, though he still had a slightly flushed face and an air of deliberation, as if he had to concentrate not to knock over his table or drop food. Still, there were grains of rice stuck to the front of his chest and he had spilled some tea in his pickles.
Rin wrinkled her nose and sighed. At least he wasn't as drunk as he had made himself after coming back from the brothel. She trembled at the memory of that night and broke eye contact.
“G'wan, get your wash.“ Manji stabbed a slice of cucumber with the end of one hashi and stuck it in his mouth. “You ain't gotta keep an eye on me. I'm not goin' past that door again.“
Rin nodded and turned the bow of her wide obi to the front to untie it. She folded her furisode neatly along the seams and set it on the floor. Her inner robe still felt damp–she had better strip down all the way and change into fresh clothes for the bath. She reached for the knot of the sash that held it closed.
Manji made another low sound in his throat and she glanced up. With the end of the hashi still in his mouth, he was looking at her hand on the knot, his expression controlled but curiously intent. Rin paused; he dropped the hashi on the little table, swallowed once and turned his back.
Rin cringed in embarrassment. Manji didn't think she wanted him to guard her modesty after everything they had done together, did he? She felt more exposed than if he had been staring straight at her naked body and smiling with obvious plans in mind. She wrapped herself in her furisode again, grabbed her towel and clean yukata and left the room in haste.
The evening crowd in the bathhouse comforted Rin in a cozy, domestic way. Though she had to crouch against the wall to wash for lack of bath stools, the chatter and polite chaos of women and small children felt like an easier human closeness. No tensions, no decisions to ponder.
While rinsing her body, she found a sticky streak of something under one breast, and more of it on the backs of her thighs. When she realized what it was, she hurriedly scrubbed it away, flushing hot. Manji's seed, still clinging to her sweaty skin. She was always finding that substance in odd places after thinking she had wiped herself scrupulously clean. Had anyone noticed?
No one was looking at her. The women kept on forcibly washing their squalling children, combing out their long hair and gossiping. They'd been girls themselves, and they'd become adults as a matter of course. What a female experienced while pillowing with a man was commonplace to them, with no mysteries left.
A heavily pregnant mother came in with a baby on her hip and a toddler in tow. Rin furtively examined the woman's swollen belly as she undressed. She put a hand on her own slender abdomen and barely padded hipbones and wondered why Makie had volunteered so much about avoiding childbearing. Not that she wasn't glad to know...
Just in case Manji had already gone to bed, when Rin returned from the bathhouse she opened the shoji as gently as she could and peeked inside.
He was sitting on a made-up futon; she saw the back of his spiky topknot and smelled tobacco. Manji didn't look up or reply to her greeting, but scooped a hand into his tobacco pouch and re-tamped his pipe.
Obviously the maid had been here, since the remains of the meal were gone and the bed was tidily laid out. Beside the futon was a smoking set on a tray with an ash container. A small brazier held a few pieces of smoldering charcoal bedded on sand. Most of them had gone out.
Rin knelt and pulled her braids out of her bun cover. She looked in her shoulder bag, found her little pot of face cream and patted a dainty fingertipful into her cheeks and throat to soothe her skin, still warm from the bath.
When she glanced up, Manji was watching her, his eye following the movements of her hand. He grunted and looked away.
Rin blushed and draped her damp towel over her lap, then took out her hair rings. She stole a glance at Manji while she undid her braids and combed out her hair. He had pulled down the sleeves of the yukata he wore, and his skin looked flushed across the chest, though the room wasn't hot. What should she say to start the conversation? It was nearly bedtime, and before she settled down in her bodyguard's encircling arms, they had to work out the answers to several pressing questions.
He knew that too, of course. She wasn't sure exactly what Manji had been silently pondering all through dinner, but he certainly seemed to have something on his mind. Not as if he was trying to come to a decision–more like considering how to carry out a settled plan of action. Rin felt both curious and a little frightened. Would he want her to let him broach the subject first?
Then she spotted a jug and a cup behind the smoking set, and her hand sagged to her lap, still holding the comb. No wonder Manji looked warm–he had gotten himself drunk all over again. He didn't want to talk to her at all.
Rin started combing her hair again with quick angry strokes; she ripped through a tangle with a series of tiny snaps.
Fine, then. She wouldn't tell him. Everything Makie had said was conjecture anyway. She'd admitted as much, hadn't she? So her story was probably nothing more than a far-fetched invention. Makie loved Anotsu, and she must have an exaggerated idea of his honorable intentions. He wasn't that devoted to making amends–he couldn't be.
She bit her lips. What if Manji found out later that she had kept such an important piece of news from him? His dark speculations had struck her as not much more than overprotective paranoia, but Anotsu could have actual plans that might put one or both of them in danger. Maybe it was better to talk about this now while Manji's restraints were loosened and he would say more than usual. Rin put her comb away and looked at him.
Drunk as he must be, Manji's mouth was firmly compressed, his movements deliberate and his eye narrowed, as if he had summoned deeper resources of self-control. Of course he'd be furious at Anotsu when he learned the truth, but maybe he wouldn't lose his head after all. He finished his pipeful and reached for his tobacco pouch again. All other considerations aside, he was her bodyguard–he needed to know.
Rin took a deep breath and pulled in her lips. “Manji-san...”
He gave no sign that he had heard, though he had paused in his task and stared into space with his unlit pipe in his fingers.
“If you don't want to talk right now, I'm sorry, but there's something important I need to tell you.” She swallowed hard. “Especially after today...and what you said while we–”
“Just forget it.”
Rin gripped her yukata together over her breasts. “Forget what?”
“All of it. I was drunk...I am drunk.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of one hand, rolled over and held his pipe to the last live bit of charcoal in the brazier. He drew on the mouthpiece and reclined with a stack of folded spare bedding as a back support. “I think I might have woke up drunk...”
“Oh, that's all right, big brother. I don't think Makie is going to hold a grudge, so I–”
“I ain't talkin' about what went down tonight. I'm talking about all of it.”
Rin's skin prickled. “All of it?”
“I was kinda horny, OK? I guess I w-went kinda nuts.” He coughed and cleared his throat, then shifted to lie on his side, his back to her.
“You were...horny?”
“That's what I said, kid. I was rarin' to get laid, 'cause I hadn't gotten laid for–what, two whole days?” He snorted.
“Er...”
“I thought you were tryin' to get out of it, maybe, so I said some stuff I p-probably... shouldn't have. Ahh, I'm just a guy.” He scratched his groin and blew a cloud of smoke from his nostrils. “All the blood goes straight to one place, and the rest gets a little crazy.”
He was embarrassed by how much affection he'd shown her, or by how much he had seemed to need her? Rin hid a smile and looked into her lap. “I know all about men and sex, big brother. I don't mind.”
“You know what?” He sounded utterly disgusted.
“Yes, I do!” Rin made a face at his back.
“Aw, like hell.”
“You've taught me lots of things! You said it was important, and–”
“Kid, I taught you to drop your duds, spread yer pretty legs and let me spoil my appetite.” Manji made a contemptuous snarl. “Ain't you figured that out by now?”
“What?”
“Important, my eye. All m-men... are pigs...” He lowered his head and ran a hand over his untidy hair. She could still see traces of blood under his fingernails.
“Big brother...?”
“So it's just as well that it was always gonna be temporary. Better cut our losses...before anything else happens.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“School's out, Rin. No more sensei bullshit.”
“Manji!”
“I'm not kiddin'. I've made a b-big enough asshole of myself already.” He sat up and rapped his pipe on the edge of the ash container. The entire metal-lined bottom was already heaped with gray pellets. “I'm callin' it quits, right now.”
“Is...is this because of what Makie–”
He smashed a fist to the floor so hard that the smoking tray leaped in the air. Rin flinched and squeaked in surprise. “Let's get one thing straight.” Manji twisted so that she saw his blind eye and spoke through his teeth. “What I say–what I do–has shit all to do with that broad. Or her goddamn boyfriend. You understand me?”
“Uh...” She backed away and took refuge in the window seat. The cool night air raised the hairs on her arms.
“Even if I've been exercisin' my cock a lot more than my thinking head, I guess I got enough brain left to make my own fuckin' decisions!” He pointed at his skull. “I don't ask permission from a whore with a pigsticker. Whose personal business it ain't. Didn't you hear what I said to her?”
“What you said? But you...didn't mean it...?”
“You little idiot! You think I make up bullshit just to flap my gums?”
Manji's brutal tone struck her like a blow across the face. Rin sank back and blinked at him, her eyes huge.
“Well...that's how I ought to have been thinkin' about it, goddammit!” He grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed it as if it ached. “It's way past time I yanked my head outta my own crotch.”
Rin huddled up on the seat and hugged her knees, her heart seeming to drain of blood. Manji kept a tight clutch on his neck for a few moments, then rolled to his feet and paced away from the window. He touched the finger hole as if to open the shoji, but only took a deep breath and paused there. A peculiar expression crossed his face when he turned again.
“Uh...Rin...it ain't your fault.” He came back across the room on a meandering path, halted in front of her and folded his arms over his bared chest. “I guess that was kinda harsh. S-sorry.”
Rin watched the prominence in his throat move as he swallowed, and wondered why his voice kept catching when he sounded so definite. Manji looked at her as if expecting a reply, and when she said nothing, his cheeks flushed.
“Maybe you thought...y'know...that I'd changed my mind. About, uh–about what I was tellin' you when this all got started. Well, that would've been a damn stupid thing to do. Y'know?” He stopped again and waited, his face twitching, then kept on as if he didn't like the silence. “See, if I was lookin' at it straight then, it's not any less true now. I'm not the guy who can... y'know... and that's never gonna change.”
No, he would never change. Her eyes moved over him, the lean scarred body she had thought she knew so well. Her vision seemed abnormally sharp, her mind as clear as an empty room.
He grimaced and shifted posture. “So...this shouldn't be such a big surprise, huh? Hey, c'mon–you wouldn't fall for that. From me?“ Manji's forced chuckle died quickly, but sent a cold shiver through her.
How could she reply? Confess the pretty fable she had spun in the air today? Between the two of them Makie and Manji had just butchered it beyond repair; she could recall only a few bright shreds, like scattered sparks in the darkness.
“Like...you weren't rememberin' the way you wanted to hook up before we agreed on lessons, were you?” Underneath his derisive manner Manji sounded oddly hopeful. “Maybe you were thinkin' about you being my, uh...my woman, and me...” He went a little pale and looked over her head. “Sure, you know we can't get married anyhow. But I guess there's still one w-way clear to makin' it as good as official...”
Why did he have to taunt her with her own childish dreams? Was he just running off his mouth in an alcoholic haze? She had a feeling that he knew exactly what he was saying. Rin gave Manji a hurt, resentful glare, and he flushed dark.
“Yeah, just one way. Which is a damn good reason why we haven't–” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his eye moving from side to side.
Rin frowned in confusion. Maybe he'd let something slip that he hadn't meant to. But of course, he was drunk...
“OK, look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't go tryin' to pretend I can't see what's right in front of me.“ Manji turned away and folded his arms again. “I know...I'm the one to blame for lettin' you believe that, even for a minute.” His lips opened slightly; he compressed them again. “Even though it was just for a little while...even if you ain't n-never going to think that way about me again. My fault.”
Rin let her gaze wander outside to avoid seeing his face. It reminded her far too much of how she had felt in his arms today, in this room, and she didn't want to feel anything right now.
“So I ain't gonna hold you to anything you mighta said either...or done.“ He sounded painfully thick and reluctant, as if every word was a pulled tooth. “Maybe now I got a b-better idea what you–anyhow, I appreciate the thought, but.... Y'know?”
So her feelings for him flattered him a little, but once it sank in how far she was willing to take them, he had realized she believed he suffered from the same weakness. Rin briefly closed her eyes.
“I ain't tryin' to be nasty, woman. You got that?” Manji moved to take the other end of the window seat; he leaned over in an attempt to catch her eye. Rin avoided him and his voice took on an impatient edge. “I'm tryin' to do what's right, which has been in kinda short supply lately.”
“I don't think you've done anything wrong...”
Manji showed his teeth, but seemed relieved that she had finally spoken. “There's only one thing I've done right by you.” He thrust a forefinger downwards. “One damn thing. Ain't a hell of a lot to be p-proud of.”
“You...really mean this.”
“Yeah, it's over.” He got up again as if to emphasize the point. “Whatever the hell it was. I'm your bodyguard, and I'm gonna do my damn job the way I oughta do it. My job–and nothin' else.”
Rin folded her hands on her lap, so stunned that she could barely register emotion. She felt utterly bereft and blank, as if she had been swaddled in thick quilts and was unable to see or breathe.
“Uh...I won't get pissed if you gotta do some cryin', or whatever. Go ahead–it's OK.” He rubbed the back of his neck again and turned away.
Consciousness trickled in through the smallest of crevices, though she tried to smother herself against it. Manji didn't want her. He had never dreamed of making her his hope of happiness; he didn't think about her that way at all even when enjoying her body in bed.
Then all her distress and conflict...? Although her yojimbo might consider Anotsu a threat and suspect his motives, losing her to another man would injure nothing but his pride. Rin shuddered with cold.
Had she believed in some hidden chamber of her heart that Manji's jealousy would save her from making any decision at all? Her duty to her parents would remain forever unattainable once he had claimed her and his lust had quickened her womb, and then she could blame her failure not on her own cowardice, but on fate, and a man's ungovernable desire. What an idiot...to flatter herself so much.
Her eyes began to lose focus; the room wavered. She wouldn't cry; maybe Manji thought she would blubber like a baby so he could taunt her with that weakness too. She didn't think she was going to faint, but other than that, she had no idea what was going to happen.
“Rin?”
“...Yes?” Her own voice echoed in the hollow places of her skull.
“Uh...you hearin' me?” He squatted in front of her and peered into her face.
“Yes, Manji. I heard.” Rin spoke quietly and automatically. He seemed shadowy, barely present. The walls faded away, the streets and forests went down into blackness. All she knew was the night outside.
Rin tilted her head back and looked into the sky. The glittering stars, scattered in uncountable droves. She searched for the ones she knew and named them to herself, her lips moving silently.
She grasped for the details of an old story as she traced the invisible lines of the constellations. Of two celestial beings who fell in love and were banished to opposite sides of the River of Heaven for neglecting their duties in their rapture. She'd begged her grandfather to tell that one over and over again.
There they were, those two bright stars separated by a broad silvery band. The Weaver and the Herdsman wept when they were allowed to meet, only once a year: soft rains on the seventh day of the seventh month were their tears of joy, and a downpour their tears of sorrow when they were forced to part again.
Tears could not prevail. Duty and karma and the vast, inscrutable motions of the universe ruled all, even the stars. They couldn't escape their fates, but they still had the right to mourn them. Rin smiled, closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. A beautiful, sad story...a child's fairy tale, like every other story of love she knew.
“R-Rin-chan?”
She heard Manji's voice through a rushing sound like water, but she couldn't find the will to return from the darkness.
“Kid, I said it was OK if you wanted to bawl...I thought you'd be mad at me.” He might have been speaking a thousand miles away for all the impression his words made, though she dimly registered his agitation. “Call me all the n-names you want–it ain't like I don't deserve 'em.”
She didn't answer–she had no desire to call him anything at all.
“Goddammit, woman–I'm talkin' to you!“ His voice cracked slightly. “So look at me!“
Rin obediently opened her eyes and turned her head.
“You listening to what I'm saying?“
She nodded.
”OK, then, if you ain't in the mood for yelling...go on and kick me in the balls. Clock me with a jug.” Manji jerked his head at the bundle of weapons leaning against the wall. “You lost all your little knives, right? Take your pick, and I'll take my medicine.“ He looked at her with an open appeal. “Hell, you got the right to cut my fucking liver out if...I mean, you told me straight h-how you felt about it, and I still went ahead and got my–“
“No...it's all right.”
“Hanh?“ Manji's face fell; he looked almost comically disconcerted. “What the hell's the m-matter?”
“Nothing's the matter, Manji-san.”
He sat back, white-faced. “Well...screw me.”
Rin didn't reply, and after a minute Manji moved over to the futon on his knees and picked up his pipe from the smoking tray. Her eyes idly followed him, her mind still blank and calm. Over his shoulder he gave her a sudden narrow-eyed glance as if he expected to catch her unawares; she smiled vaguely and looked at the stars again.
Manji packed his pipe with tobacco, his hands shaking, and put it between his lips. Rin heard his teeth rattle against the mouthpiece and felt mild curiosity at the unaccustomed sound. He tried to light the pipe and bumped the little brazier, scattering sand and charcoal ash in the smoking tray. Some of it spilled on the tatami.
”Aw, shit...”
Rin glanced around and sighed a little at his drunken carelessness. Well, he'd gotten into this messy state all by himself, so he could clean it up by himself too...
Manji groped for a live coal with a pair of metal hashi, held it to the pipe and tried to blow on it to encourage the fading smolder. His breathing had become irregular and choppy. His hands trembled even more badly and he dropped pipe, coal and hashi with a clatter.
Rin raised her gaze from the spilled sand. Manji stared unmoving at the thread of smoke rising from the mat in front of him. A faint smell of scorching straw grew stronger.
“Um...Manji-san?” He didn't reply. “The mat's catching on fire–”
“So what?”
Rin gasped, waking from her indifference. “Do something!”
He shrugged.
“Manji!“
He threw his head up and glared at her. His eye looked bloodshot, his mouth distorted. “Far as I'm concerned, this whole fucking dump can burn to the ground.”
Rin jumped down from the window seat, scooped up the hot coal with the ash container and poured the rest of the sand onto the scorched spot to smother the sparks. For good measure she grabbed Manji's sake jug, dumped the remaining contents over the sand and stirred it until she was sure the fire was dead. She sat back on her heels, wiped aromatic mud from her fingers and gave Manji a reproving glance.
“What are you lookin' at?”
She flinched at his ugly tone. “Um...nothing.”
“Nothin'? What am I, week-old sushi?”
“Well, what was that about? Why would you want the inn to burn down, for heaven's sake?”
He growled and turned away. “This ain't been a real eventful day. Thought we could use a little excitement before bedtime.”
Rin flushed and looked at the spoiled mat. Manji picked up his pipe and flicked damp sand from the bamboo stem with his thumbnail.
“Well, speaking of which...I'm tired. I guess I should go to bed now–go to sleep.” She swallowed against a lump in her throat and fought down a dreadful sense of awakening loss; she'd mourn for what had never existed only when she was certain he wouldn't hear. “M-maybe you shouldn't be smoking when you've been drinking.”
Manji grunted, still fiddling with his pipe. Again his back rested against the stack of spare bedding. He had apparently decided that they should stop sharing a pillow even before they had reached their room–why hadn't he told the maid to lay out two beds instead of one? That might have been a gentler way to break the news. Rin hesitated, then slowly shuffled past Manji on her knees and reached for the bedding.
He twitched his shoulders when she eased a folded quilt from behind him. “What do you think you're doin'?”
“Um, I just wanted to make up my futon...”
His head whipped around; he'd gone white again. For a moment she saw his features wrench, then anger returned and his face reddened. “Don't need me to keep you warm any more, huh?”
She recoiled and stared at him with the quilt draped over her arms. “But Manji...you said...”
He hurled his pipe across the room. It punched a hole in the shoji and hit the floor. “I know damn well what I said, you two-faced little cunt!”
“Wh-why are you saying such awful things? What did I do?” Tears welled in Rin's eyes.
“Shut the–shut the hell up...” He covered his face with his hands and crouched over with his head between his knees.
“I promised not to get upset when it ended! I never meant to hurt your feelings...I...I tried so hard to please you...” She burst out in frantic, gulping sobs.
Manji's shoulders heaved and he let out a dry rattle of a moan, muffled by his hands.
“Please! What did I do w-wrong?”
“Nothing.” He clenched his fists against his eye sockets. “Just taught me...a lesson...”
“You?”
He laughed without a grain of mirth; his voice crept to the edge of breaking. “Oh, little sister, I got mine. I sure got mine.”
“Big brother...” Rin reached out and put a hand on his hunched back. “Please...please don't be sad...” She embraced him, though he shielded his face. Ear, jaw, nape–she covered him with kisses in every place her lips could reach.
He turned, took her in his arms and pressed her to the floor.
Continued...
No news is good news; if only reading intentions was as easy as turning pages...
The characters and universe of Blade of the Immortal/Mugen no Junin are copyright by Hiroaki Samura and do not belong to me. Not one sen will come into my hands in consequence of this story.
Warnings for sex in various forms, including quasi-incestuous themes and a sixteen-year-old female paired with an adult male. Violence and dismemberment are legally required in any BotI fic, so be prepared.
Rin's fairy tale is the traditional basis of Tanabata-Matsuri, a Japanese festival held in summer, when Vega (Oto-hime, the Weaver Princess) and Altair (Hiko-boshi, the Herdsman) are prominent in the sky.
Abstinence Education
by Madame Manga
Part Twenty-Six
Why would he be here at all?
Perhaps because Anotsu Kagehisa wasn't Manji. He couldn't heal a serious wound in the space of ten breaths, and he couldn't recover in just a few days from illness and exhaustion that had nearly killed him. As little as Rin liked to think of him that way, he was a human being. She grimaced at her rice bowl.
Manji made an inquiring grunt; Rin jumped.
“Oh–uh, nothing. I have a little stomach ache...“ She massaged her belly.
So Anotsu was probably still somewhat weak and needed escort on the road from a willing and vigilant friend. Rin realized he might not have set out to return to Edo until five or ten days ago, around the time she and Manji had started to–
She shouldn't think about him any more. During the whole meal her bodyguard had been sitting across from her drinking potfuls of hot tea and examining her as closely as if he wanted to read her thoughts. Rin didn't want him even to guess at what was in her mind right now. She picked up her bowl of rice and slowly pushed some into her mouth.
Maybe her overexcited imagination had conjured her enemy among the spectators on the inn veranda. She hadn't seen his face nor even his outline; all she had to go on was a fleeting impression from a distance. Still, his presence remained so clear in her mind that she believed she could have recognized him in any disguise. Revenge against Anotsu had been the focal point of her life ever since the deaths of her parents, and now that she was no longer completely sure of her hatred, the way she had formed her young mind around her one great goal might be changing as well.
The rice tasted sour in her mouth; she swallowed with difficulty.
Strange how a slim and smooth-featured young man could project such an aura of power, like a deadly blade in beautiful fittings. A queer twinge rippled through Rin's chest and stomach and she slowly lowered her bowl, her appetite gone. No, Anotsu was nothing at all like her rough, straightforward, dearly beloved Manji. Acid pooled in the corners of her mouth and seemed to drip straight into her heart. Even if Makie was right and he would treat her with respect and kindness...
She shouldn't think about him. Ever.
Manji grunted at her again; she looked down and realized he was tapping his empty teacup. She poured for him, wiped the spout of the pot and carefully set it down.
“Manji-san?“
“Hnn?“< br>
“Um, would you mind if I, uh, went to the bathhouse for a while?“
He lifted a brow at her over the rim of his cup.
“I know, I had a bath already today, but, uh, I got very sweaty...“ She flushed and poked at her rice with her hashi. “So I thought I'd feel better if I at least rinsed off a little before, um, bedtime...“
Manji said nothing, but sniffed meditatively. When Rin pushed aside her unfinished meal and rose, he glanced up at her. He seemed to have gotten over the worst of his drunkenness, though he still had a slightly flushed face and an air of deliberation, as if he had to concentrate not to knock over his table or drop food. Still, there were grains of rice stuck to the front of his chest and he had spilled some tea in his pickles.
Rin wrinkled her nose and sighed. At least he wasn't as drunk as he had made himself after coming back from the brothel. She trembled at the memory of that night and broke eye contact.
“G'wan, get your wash.“ Manji stabbed a slice of cucumber with the end of one hashi and stuck it in his mouth. “You ain't gotta keep an eye on me. I'm not goin' past that door again.“
Rin nodded and turned the bow of her wide obi to the front to untie it. She folded her furisode neatly along the seams and set it on the floor. Her inner robe still felt damp–she had better strip down all the way and change into fresh clothes for the bath. She reached for the knot of the sash that held it closed.
Manji made another low sound in his throat and she glanced up. With the end of the hashi still in his mouth, he was looking at her hand on the knot, his expression controlled but curiously intent. Rin paused; he dropped the hashi on the little table, swallowed once and turned his back.
Rin cringed in embarrassment. Manji didn't think she wanted him to guard her modesty after everything they had done together, did he? She felt more exposed than if he had been staring straight at her naked body and smiling with obvious plans in mind. She wrapped herself in her furisode again, grabbed her towel and clean yukata and left the room in haste.
The evening crowd in the bathhouse comforted Rin in a cozy, domestic way. Though she had to crouch against the wall to wash for lack of bath stools, the chatter and polite chaos of women and small children felt like an easier human closeness. No tensions, no decisions to ponder.
While rinsing her body, she found a sticky streak of something under one breast, and more of it on the backs of her thighs. When she realized what it was, she hurriedly scrubbed it away, flushing hot. Manji's seed, still clinging to her sweaty skin. She was always finding that substance in odd places after thinking she had wiped herself scrupulously clean. Had anyone noticed?
No one was looking at her. The women kept on forcibly washing their squalling children, combing out their long hair and gossiping. They'd been girls themselves, and they'd become adults as a matter of course. What a female experienced while pillowing with a man was commonplace to them, with no mysteries left.
A heavily pregnant mother came in with a baby on her hip and a toddler in tow. Rin furtively examined the woman's swollen belly as she undressed. She put a hand on her own slender abdomen and barely padded hipbones and wondered why Makie had volunteered so much about avoiding childbearing. Not that she wasn't glad to know...
Just in case Manji had already gone to bed, when Rin returned from the bathhouse she opened the shoji as gently as she could and peeked inside.
He was sitting on a made-up futon; she saw the back of his spiky topknot and smelled tobacco. Manji didn't look up or reply to her greeting, but scooped a hand into his tobacco pouch and re-tamped his pipe.
Obviously the maid had been here, since the remains of the meal were gone and the bed was tidily laid out. Beside the futon was a smoking set on a tray with an ash container. A small brazier held a few pieces of smoldering charcoal bedded on sand. Most of them had gone out.
Rin knelt and pulled her braids out of her bun cover. She looked in her shoulder bag, found her little pot of face cream and patted a dainty fingertipful into her cheeks and throat to soothe her skin, still warm from the bath.
When she glanced up, Manji was watching her, his eye following the movements of her hand. He grunted and looked away.
Rin blushed and draped her damp towel over her lap, then took out her hair rings. She stole a glance at Manji while she undid her braids and combed out her hair. He had pulled down the sleeves of the yukata he wore, and his skin looked flushed across the chest, though the room wasn't hot. What should she say to start the conversation? It was nearly bedtime, and before she settled down in her bodyguard's encircling arms, they had to work out the answers to several pressing questions.
He knew that too, of course. She wasn't sure exactly what Manji had been silently pondering all through dinner, but he certainly seemed to have something on his mind. Not as if he was trying to come to a decision–more like considering how to carry out a settled plan of action. Rin felt both curious and a little frightened. Would he want her to let him broach the subject first?
Then she spotted a jug and a cup behind the smoking set, and her hand sagged to her lap, still holding the comb. No wonder Manji looked warm–he had gotten himself drunk all over again. He didn't want to talk to her at all.
Rin started combing her hair again with quick angry strokes; she ripped through a tangle with a series of tiny snaps.
Fine, then. She wouldn't tell him. Everything Makie had said was conjecture anyway. She'd admitted as much, hadn't she? So her story was probably nothing more than a far-fetched invention. Makie loved Anotsu, and she must have an exaggerated idea of his honorable intentions. He wasn't that devoted to making amends–he couldn't be.
She bit her lips. What if Manji found out later that she had kept such an important piece of news from him? His dark speculations had struck her as not much more than overprotective paranoia, but Anotsu could have actual plans that might put one or both of them in danger. Maybe it was better to talk about this now while Manji's restraints were loosened and he would say more than usual. Rin put her comb away and looked at him.
Drunk as he must be, Manji's mouth was firmly compressed, his movements deliberate and his eye narrowed, as if he had summoned deeper resources of self-control. Of course he'd be furious at Anotsu when he learned the truth, but maybe he wouldn't lose his head after all. He finished his pipeful and reached for his tobacco pouch again. All other considerations aside, he was her bodyguard–he needed to know.
Rin took a deep breath and pulled in her lips. “Manji-san...”
He gave no sign that he had heard, though he had paused in his task and stared into space with his unlit pipe in his fingers.
“If you don't want to talk right now, I'm sorry, but there's something important I need to tell you.” She swallowed hard. “Especially after today...and what you said while we–”
“Just forget it.”
Rin gripped her yukata together over her breasts. “Forget what?”
“All of it. I was drunk...I am drunk.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of one hand, rolled over and held his pipe to the last live bit of charcoal in the brazier. He drew on the mouthpiece and reclined with a stack of folded spare bedding as a back support. “I think I might have woke up drunk...”
“Oh, that's all right, big brother. I don't think Makie is going to hold a grudge, so I–”
“I ain't talkin' about what went down tonight. I'm talking about all of it.”
Rin's skin prickled. “All of it?”
“I was kinda horny, OK? I guess I w-went kinda nuts.” He coughed and cleared his throat, then shifted to lie on his side, his back to her.
“You were...horny?”
“That's what I said, kid. I was rarin' to get laid, 'cause I hadn't gotten laid for–what, two whole days?” He snorted.
“Er...”
“I thought you were tryin' to get out of it, maybe, so I said some stuff I p-probably... shouldn't have. Ahh, I'm just a guy.” He scratched his groin and blew a cloud of smoke from his nostrils. “All the blood goes straight to one place, and the rest gets a little crazy.”
He was embarrassed by how much affection he'd shown her, or by how much he had seemed to need her? Rin hid a smile and looked into her lap. “I know all about men and sex, big brother. I don't mind.”
“You know what?” He sounded utterly disgusted.
“Yes, I do!” Rin made a face at his back.
“Aw, like hell.”
“You've taught me lots of things! You said it was important, and–”
“Kid, I taught you to drop your duds, spread yer pretty legs and let me spoil my appetite.” Manji made a contemptuous snarl. “Ain't you figured that out by now?”
“What?”
“Important, my eye. All m-men... are pigs...” He lowered his head and ran a hand over his untidy hair. She could still see traces of blood under his fingernails.
“Big brother...?”
“So it's just as well that it was always gonna be temporary. Better cut our losses...before anything else happens.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“School's out, Rin. No more sensei bullshit.”
“Manji!”
“I'm not kiddin'. I've made a b-big enough asshole of myself already.” He sat up and rapped his pipe on the edge of the ash container. The entire metal-lined bottom was already heaped with gray pellets. “I'm callin' it quits, right now.”
“Is...is this because of what Makie–”
He smashed a fist to the floor so hard that the smoking tray leaped in the air. Rin flinched and squeaked in surprise. “Let's get one thing straight.” Manji twisted so that she saw his blind eye and spoke through his teeth. “What I say–what I do–has shit all to do with that broad. Or her goddamn boyfriend. You understand me?”
“Uh...” She backed away and took refuge in the window seat. The cool night air raised the hairs on her arms.
“Even if I've been exercisin' my cock a lot more than my thinking head, I guess I got enough brain left to make my own fuckin' decisions!” He pointed at his skull. “I don't ask permission from a whore with a pigsticker. Whose personal business it ain't. Didn't you hear what I said to her?”
“What you said? But you...didn't mean it...?”
“You little idiot! You think I make up bullshit just to flap my gums?”
Manji's brutal tone struck her like a blow across the face. Rin sank back and blinked at him, her eyes huge.
“Well...that's how I ought to have been thinkin' about it, goddammit!” He grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed it as if it ached. “It's way past time I yanked my head outta my own crotch.”
Rin huddled up on the seat and hugged her knees, her heart seeming to drain of blood. Manji kept a tight clutch on his neck for a few moments, then rolled to his feet and paced away from the window. He touched the finger hole as if to open the shoji, but only took a deep breath and paused there. A peculiar expression crossed his face when he turned again.
“Uh...Rin...it ain't your fault.” He came back across the room on a meandering path, halted in front of her and folded his arms over his bared chest. “I guess that was kinda harsh. S-sorry.”
Rin watched the prominence in his throat move as he swallowed, and wondered why his voice kept catching when he sounded so definite. Manji looked at her as if expecting a reply, and when she said nothing, his cheeks flushed.
“Maybe you thought...y'know...that I'd changed my mind. About, uh–about what I was tellin' you when this all got started. Well, that would've been a damn stupid thing to do. Y'know?” He stopped again and waited, his face twitching, then kept on as if he didn't like the silence. “See, if I was lookin' at it straight then, it's not any less true now. I'm not the guy who can... y'know... and that's never gonna change.”
No, he would never change. Her eyes moved over him, the lean scarred body she had thought she knew so well. Her vision seemed abnormally sharp, her mind as clear as an empty room.
He grimaced and shifted posture. “So...this shouldn't be such a big surprise, huh? Hey, c'mon–you wouldn't fall for that. From me?“ Manji's forced chuckle died quickly, but sent a cold shiver through her.
How could she reply? Confess the pretty fable she had spun in the air today? Between the two of them Makie and Manji had just butchered it beyond repair; she could recall only a few bright shreds, like scattered sparks in the darkness.
“Like...you weren't rememberin' the way you wanted to hook up before we agreed on lessons, were you?” Underneath his derisive manner Manji sounded oddly hopeful. “Maybe you were thinkin' about you being my, uh...my woman, and me...” He went a little pale and looked over her head. “Sure, you know we can't get married anyhow. But I guess there's still one w-way clear to makin' it as good as official...”
Why did he have to taunt her with her own childish dreams? Was he just running off his mouth in an alcoholic haze? She had a feeling that he knew exactly what he was saying. Rin gave Manji a hurt, resentful glare, and he flushed dark.
“Yeah, just one way. Which is a damn good reason why we haven't–” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his eye moving from side to side.
Rin frowned in confusion. Maybe he'd let something slip that he hadn't meant to. But of course, he was drunk...
“OK, look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't go tryin' to pretend I can't see what's right in front of me.“ Manji turned away and folded his arms again. “I know...I'm the one to blame for lettin' you believe that, even for a minute.” His lips opened slightly; he compressed them again. “Even though it was just for a little while...even if you ain't n-never going to think that way about me again. My fault.”
Rin let her gaze wander outside to avoid seeing his face. It reminded her far too much of how she had felt in his arms today, in this room, and she didn't want to feel anything right now.
“So I ain't gonna hold you to anything you mighta said either...or done.“ He sounded painfully thick and reluctant, as if every word was a pulled tooth. “Maybe now I got a b-better idea what you–anyhow, I appreciate the thought, but.... Y'know?”
So her feelings for him flattered him a little, but once it sank in how far she was willing to take them, he had realized she believed he suffered from the same weakness. Rin briefly closed her eyes.
“I ain't tryin' to be nasty, woman. You got that?” Manji moved to take the other end of the window seat; he leaned over in an attempt to catch her eye. Rin avoided him and his voice took on an impatient edge. “I'm tryin' to do what's right, which has been in kinda short supply lately.”
“I don't think you've done anything wrong...”
Manji showed his teeth, but seemed relieved that she had finally spoken. “There's only one thing I've done right by you.” He thrust a forefinger downwards. “One damn thing. Ain't a hell of a lot to be p-proud of.”
“You...really mean this.”
“Yeah, it's over.” He got up again as if to emphasize the point. “Whatever the hell it was. I'm your bodyguard, and I'm gonna do my damn job the way I oughta do it. My job–and nothin' else.”
Rin folded her hands on her lap, so stunned that she could barely register emotion. She felt utterly bereft and blank, as if she had been swaddled in thick quilts and was unable to see or breathe.
“Uh...I won't get pissed if you gotta do some cryin', or whatever. Go ahead–it's OK.” He rubbed the back of his neck again and turned away.
Consciousness trickled in through the smallest of crevices, though she tried to smother herself against it. Manji didn't want her. He had never dreamed of making her his hope of happiness; he didn't think about her that way at all even when enjoying her body in bed.
Then all her distress and conflict...? Although her yojimbo might consider Anotsu a threat and suspect his motives, losing her to another man would injure nothing but his pride. Rin shuddered with cold.
Had she believed in some hidden chamber of her heart that Manji's jealousy would save her from making any decision at all? Her duty to her parents would remain forever unattainable once he had claimed her and his lust had quickened her womb, and then she could blame her failure not on her own cowardice, but on fate, and a man's ungovernable desire. What an idiot...to flatter herself so much.
Her eyes began to lose focus; the room wavered. She wouldn't cry; maybe Manji thought she would blubber like a baby so he could taunt her with that weakness too. She didn't think she was going to faint, but other than that, she had no idea what was going to happen.
“Rin?”
“...Yes?” Her own voice echoed in the hollow places of her skull.
“Uh...you hearin' me?” He squatted in front of her and peered into her face.
“Yes, Manji. I heard.” Rin spoke quietly and automatically. He seemed shadowy, barely present. The walls faded away, the streets and forests went down into blackness. All she knew was the night outside.
Rin tilted her head back and looked into the sky. The glittering stars, scattered in uncountable droves. She searched for the ones she knew and named them to herself, her lips moving silently.
She grasped for the details of an old story as she traced the invisible lines of the constellations. Of two celestial beings who fell in love and were banished to opposite sides of the River of Heaven for neglecting their duties in their rapture. She'd begged her grandfather to tell that one over and over again.
There they were, those two bright stars separated by a broad silvery band. The Weaver and the Herdsman wept when they were allowed to meet, only once a year: soft rains on the seventh day of the seventh month were their tears of joy, and a downpour their tears of sorrow when they were forced to part again.
Tears could not prevail. Duty and karma and the vast, inscrutable motions of the universe ruled all, even the stars. They couldn't escape their fates, but they still had the right to mourn them. Rin smiled, closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. A beautiful, sad story...a child's fairy tale, like every other story of love she knew.
“R-Rin-chan?”
She heard Manji's voice through a rushing sound like water, but she couldn't find the will to return from the darkness.
“Kid, I said it was OK if you wanted to bawl...I thought you'd be mad at me.” He might have been speaking a thousand miles away for all the impression his words made, though she dimly registered his agitation. “Call me all the n-names you want–it ain't like I don't deserve 'em.”
She didn't answer–she had no desire to call him anything at all.
“Goddammit, woman–I'm talkin' to you!“ His voice cracked slightly. “So look at me!“
Rin obediently opened her eyes and turned her head.
“You listening to what I'm saying?“
She nodded.
”OK, then, if you ain't in the mood for yelling...go on and kick me in the balls. Clock me with a jug.” Manji jerked his head at the bundle of weapons leaning against the wall. “You lost all your little knives, right? Take your pick, and I'll take my medicine.“ He looked at her with an open appeal. “Hell, you got the right to cut my fucking liver out if...I mean, you told me straight h-how you felt about it, and I still went ahead and got my–“
“No...it's all right.”
“Hanh?“ Manji's face fell; he looked almost comically disconcerted. “What the hell's the m-matter?”
“Nothing's the matter, Manji-san.”
He sat back, white-faced. “Well...screw me.”
Rin didn't reply, and after a minute Manji moved over to the futon on his knees and picked up his pipe from the smoking tray. Her eyes idly followed him, her mind still blank and calm. Over his shoulder he gave her a sudden narrow-eyed glance as if he expected to catch her unawares; she smiled vaguely and looked at the stars again.
Manji packed his pipe with tobacco, his hands shaking, and put it between his lips. Rin heard his teeth rattle against the mouthpiece and felt mild curiosity at the unaccustomed sound. He tried to light the pipe and bumped the little brazier, scattering sand and charcoal ash in the smoking tray. Some of it spilled on the tatami.
”Aw, shit...”
Rin glanced around and sighed a little at his drunken carelessness. Well, he'd gotten into this messy state all by himself, so he could clean it up by himself too...
Manji groped for a live coal with a pair of metal hashi, held it to the pipe and tried to blow on it to encourage the fading smolder. His breathing had become irregular and choppy. His hands trembled even more badly and he dropped pipe, coal and hashi with a clatter.
Rin raised her gaze from the spilled sand. Manji stared unmoving at the thread of smoke rising from the mat in front of him. A faint smell of scorching straw grew stronger.
“Um...Manji-san?” He didn't reply. “The mat's catching on fire–”
“So what?”
Rin gasped, waking from her indifference. “Do something!”
He shrugged.
“Manji!“
He threw his head up and glared at her. His eye looked bloodshot, his mouth distorted. “Far as I'm concerned, this whole fucking dump can burn to the ground.”
Rin jumped down from the window seat, scooped up the hot coal with the ash container and poured the rest of the sand onto the scorched spot to smother the sparks. For good measure she grabbed Manji's sake jug, dumped the remaining contents over the sand and stirred it until she was sure the fire was dead. She sat back on her heels, wiped aromatic mud from her fingers and gave Manji a reproving glance.
“What are you lookin' at?”
She flinched at his ugly tone. “Um...nothing.”
“Nothin'? What am I, week-old sushi?”
“Well, what was that about? Why would you want the inn to burn down, for heaven's sake?”
He growled and turned away. “This ain't been a real eventful day. Thought we could use a little excitement before bedtime.”
Rin flushed and looked at the spoiled mat. Manji picked up his pipe and flicked damp sand from the bamboo stem with his thumbnail.
“Well, speaking of which...I'm tired. I guess I should go to bed now–go to sleep.” She swallowed against a lump in her throat and fought down a dreadful sense of awakening loss; she'd mourn for what had never existed only when she was certain he wouldn't hear. “M-maybe you shouldn't be smoking when you've been drinking.”
Manji grunted, still fiddling with his pipe. Again his back rested against the stack of spare bedding. He had apparently decided that they should stop sharing a pillow even before they had reached their room–why hadn't he told the maid to lay out two beds instead of one? That might have been a gentler way to break the news. Rin hesitated, then slowly shuffled past Manji on her knees and reached for the bedding.
He twitched his shoulders when she eased a folded quilt from behind him. “What do you think you're doin'?”
“Um, I just wanted to make up my futon...”
His head whipped around; he'd gone white again. For a moment she saw his features wrench, then anger returned and his face reddened. “Don't need me to keep you warm any more, huh?”
She recoiled and stared at him with the quilt draped over her arms. “But Manji...you said...”
He hurled his pipe across the room. It punched a hole in the shoji and hit the floor. “I know damn well what I said, you two-faced little cunt!”
“Wh-why are you saying such awful things? What did I do?” Tears welled in Rin's eyes.
“Shut the–shut the hell up...” He covered his face with his hands and crouched over with his head between his knees.
“I promised not to get upset when it ended! I never meant to hurt your feelings...I...I tried so hard to please you...” She burst out in frantic, gulping sobs.
Manji's shoulders heaved and he let out a dry rattle of a moan, muffled by his hands.
“Please! What did I do w-wrong?”
“Nothing.” He clenched his fists against his eye sockets. “Just taught me...a lesson...”
“You?”
He laughed without a grain of mirth; his voice crept to the edge of breaking. “Oh, little sister, I got mine. I sure got mine.”
“Big brother...” Rin reached out and put a hand on his hunched back. “Please...please don't be sad...” She embraced him, though he shielded his face. Ear, jaw, nape–she covered him with kisses in every place her lips could reach.
He turned, took her in his arms and pressed her to the floor.
Continued...