Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Life In A New Era ❯ Tonami, 1872, Part 1 ( Chapter 7 )

Almost two years if one skipped ahead three days to the New Year's was how long she'd known Hajime Saito, former third captain of the Shinsengumi. How long a time and yet how short. He was still with Yaso, but she'd expected nothing else. Kurasawa was still complaining about not being able to get any of them married though Haruna was certain by next July she'd get Ichiro-san to notice her and there'd be a wedding. Satsuki was still pestering everyone and Amane was still quiet and attentive.

She was still madly in love with Saito, though they both still pretended indifference in front of everyone else. It would have been improper to expect anything else; he was married to another woman after all. Yaso was still determined to get him to open up, though apparently Saito had let her in on a few things to appease her. She knew Saito didn't love Yaso, but that he cared at least. The only reason she knew that much was because she'd prodded him insistently every time they were alone to tell her and he'd finally given in.

Almost two years and though she still cried at night that he was married to Yaso and not her there was little she could do to change it. She was happy about the time she got with Saito, although she was depressed about the fact that she feared she'd died a virgin. Saito had offered to alleviate her worry, but only jokingly.

Both of them were strict moralists, especially Saito, and infidelity was a strict no-no, so neither had ever gone anything more than hold hands and that was rare. It was better not to touch him, it was safer not to, she might lose herself in his touch. Besides knowing Saito if he ever accidentally strayed, not likely in the least, he'd probably go and commit a rigorous seppuku on himself. If that happened, though she didn't like to think of it, she'd probably commit jigai. It was stupid to think like that. It was never ever going to happen.

Oh the woes of dying a virgin. Not that she couldn't think about making love to him, she wondered if Saito considered thinking evil was just as bad and would have killed her for it. Hm…she laughed aloud. Amane looked up from her work to stare. Satsuki sat up from her nap, asking where the fire was.

She blushed, "Sorry, Amane-san, Satsuki-san."

"Keep it down, I was taking a nap, Tokio-san," she leaned her head against the table. "Har-san kept me up all night with talk of Ichiro-san." She yawned, closing her eyes, a smile slipping onto her face. "If I even hear one more sentence with that name in it I'm going to scre―."

"I saw Ichiro-san in Gonohe today," squealed Haruna running into the room.

Satsuki yelled, "Get out!"

Haruna ignored her, "Oh, Ichiro-san, my little good yakuza. He's so handsome."

Amane shook her head, "All yakuza are bad, Haruna-san. You should find a gentle farmer or doctor, not a rough yakuza."

"But Goro-san kills people and no one tells him no. Besides Ichiro-san probably never even hurt a fly, yakuza aren't all evil. Not my Ichiro-chan."

"Just hope Goro-san never meets Ichiro-san," she said. Saito would definitely kill 'Haruna's Ichiro' if they ever met.

"No way would ugly Goro-san be able to take my handsome brave Ichiro-san."

"Keep thinking that," Satsuki mumbling in her half sleeping state. She was hit on the back of the head by Haruna's fan.

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The New Year End Fair was her favorite festival and possibly her favorite day of the year. The reason she loved the fair so much had little to do with festival itself but more with the fact that it had been the first and only time Saito had said he loved her.

So both her questions of last year had been answered nicely. Question One: Did Hajime Saito return any of her feelings? Answer: Yes, he loved her too. Second One: Was Saito happy married to Yaso? Answer: more complicated than her pervious question. Saito had told her he was happy with life, content more or less, but that he would have been much, much happier married to her. As bad as that made her feel for Yaso, she wanted to be Saito's main love. She was aware of how selfish that was, aware of how wrong it was and how hurtful to Yaso. She didn't think she really deserved to be his true love; it should have been Yaso she felt, but well…life was complicated.

She wore a yellow kimono, a darker shade than she'd worn last year. She had one gold kanzashi and a gold ribbon in her hair. Gold reminded her of his eyes. She chose a light blue obi and under garment. Everyone was walking to the fair, Saito in silence, Yaso chatting pleasantly about the weather beside him, Amane, Haruna, and Satsuki chatting like hens, and Kurasawa and Ueda in front mumbling to each other about a cold hearted Wolf. Both men had lately taken up dissecting Saito's character and making wise cracks whenever his head was turned.

She watched Haruna run off in search of her Ichiro-san the instant they arrived in Gonohe. Satsuki and Amane went to a vendor, wanting sweets. Saito with Yaso following like a cub went in search of somewhere quiet. Kurasawa and Ueda were determined to see which one of them could out drink the other in a sake contest. She walked by herself, passing smiling children and parents trying to tame them. She saw plenty of couples, some discreetly trying to hold hands while others blushed the color of cherry blossoms at the thought.

She felt a trickle of sorrow, knowing she could never openly blush at Saito or even hold his hand. She would never get the chance to yank that cigarette from his arrogant smirking lips and kiss them. She'd never be able to lie in his arms at night and run her fingers through his black hair. She'd never be able to feel his caress or hot breath against her skin. She'd die a blushing virgin. She'd die without ever experiencing the greatest pleasure of love. She closed her eyes, it was better not to think about it, it only hurt. She'd made her choice to love Saito, she couldn't give it half an obliged by lying with another man. She'd reconciled herself with the thought that she'd only experience half of this love, but even that little half was worth more than an empty relationship with another man. She would never have her own children either, but well…she'd never liked children that much anyway.

She was started when a sharp object pressed against her back just above her obi. Her eyes went wide when a hand clamped swiftly over her mouth. She'd traveled too far from fairgrounds, into the darkness of the surrounding alleys. Rough hands pushed her forward, the dagger digging into her back. No, she thought with anger, this couldn't be happening.

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Saito sat indifferently, it was getting late. Yaso was watching the children, saying something about wanting some of her own. He rolled his eyes skyward when she wasn't looking; he didn't intent on ever having any annoying brats around. He disliked babies, hated children, and disdained semi-adults even more. Children could be merciless little killers on the inside and he'd be damned if he ever spawned a little creeper just to get stabbed in the back later in life. Maybe he was a little paranoid but he had the right to be. He'd seen children turn in the blink of an eye, Okita for example. Fine Okita was a bad example; he hadn't really been a child during his Shinsengumi days. Emotionally he was five though.

He caught the sight of Kurasawa and Ueda. Neither man looked very stable on his feet at present. Yaso was hiding a chuckle, he smiled, good idea to laugh at the morons. They were making a funny show, Ueda's kimono all askew and Kurasawa with spilled sake all over his lap. He looked like he hadn't been able to hold himself back. His lips twitched, morons. They were shameful. He'd never have done anything so dishonorable.

Where were the other women? He guessed Haruna, Amane, and Satsuki were together or that one of them was with Tokio…Sada…hm…annoying semi-pretty witch. He took another drag of his cigarette, wondering what Tokio would have looked like in a witch outfit. He nearly snorted, but controlled himself. He was one for disciple after all. Another reason his children would have killed him. They'd probably think he was too strict, children were lax little shits.

Kurasawa laughed at some nonsense Ueda had stuttered in his drunken state. "Hey, Goro and Yaso. Sake is good. How come you never drink any, Sai?"

Sai? Was the moron trying to pronounce Saito while drunk? He glared at Kurasawa; no one should ever call him Sai. It sounded girlish and he was far from girlish. The idiot also had forgotten that he wasn't to be addressed him with that name, out in public or otherwise. Was he going to have to beat Kurasawa up to keep the peace? Probably. If it happened he'd relish it. It would be suiting payback for the insulting name.

Ueda was less drunk and noticed Saito's glare where Kurasawa was oblivious. He started to mumble, he wouldn't mind seeing Kurasawa get his ass beat by Saito. It would show him for having beaten him at the sake contest.

It wasn't long before the girls wandered in their direction and everyone but Tokio was present. "I wonder where she is," Satsuki asked, glancing at the drunken companions with worry. She seemed more worried they'd hurt themselves then of Tokio's getting lost.

"She probably just forgot the time while looking through the vendor's merchandise," said his wife. Sometimes his wife was stupid, but he let it go because if he pointed it out she'd just get angry and he'd be put outside like a bad dog. Not that he would have minded over much. Tokio was usually outside to keep him company.

He pulled out a cigarette. This was strange behavior for her. They had all planned to meet by the town center when the fair was winding down. Where was she? She wasn't one to be late and certainly not because of some vendor's products. He lit his cigarette, inhaling and exhaling the cancer inducing smoke. Good relaxing toxic, it did wonders for his nerves.

There was still time to spare in wait. He frowned, glancing around as the crowd started to thin out. Satsuki was yelling at Haruna, the girl had been disappointed because she couldn't find someone in the fair. Kurasawa was leaning against Ueda. Ueda was barking at him to get off, but Kurasawa was half asleep. Yaso was asleep beside him, her head lightly on his shoulder. He was too anxious to bother to push her off, such a trivial thing was unimportant at present. Amane was the only one who looked as concerned as he felt on the inside. Something was not right about this.

Twenty minutes passed. Satsuki and Haruna starting yawning also, looking around the almost completely empty fair grounds. "Maybe she went back?"

"I don't think she'd leave without telling anyone, Har-san," Amane said, looking perplexed. No one said much. Saito was going to take out another cigarette if she didn't show in five minutes. He was really starting to wonder what was going on.

Suddenly a man appeared, the fairgrounds were all but empty expect for that man and a few others waiting for the last light before going back home. Saito stood. The man wore daisho. His eyes narrowed; did he have to kill someone tonight? He cracked his knuckles, eying the man with a sardonic grin.

This was a lot more exciting than this whole year. Living with Kurasawa was well enough but boring and being a peddler was a dull occupancy. He sometimes missed the Shinsengumi days if for no other reason than the chaotic thrilling nights of hunting hitokiri like the Battousai, the occasional guard duty where stupid Ishin shishi attacked and were slaughtered, and the occasional raids. Yes, those times had been so much more fun…and dangerous not only for him but those he cared about. He'd never tell anyone, but he cared about Kurasawa, Yaso, Ueda, etc. His grief would have been ten times more acute if Tokio died over any of the others around him, but it was saying a lot if he even cared a little about them.

The man pulled his sugegasa off. Why was he wearing a sugegasa at this time of night? Idiot. He was trying to look suspicious that much was clear, but why draw attention like that? Unless he wanted Saito to engage him in a fight. He frowned, two reason for this man's actions, 1) he wanted Saito to notice him and start a fight because he was so arrogant in his skills or 2) this was some sort of trap.

The logical part of him wondered if this man had any connection to the first man and the group of men. He glared, if that was so he should utilize this moron before killing him. If he was lucky he could find the man hiring all the hitokiri and finish him off. It was easier to yank a flower out by the base than at the top of the stem.

He smiled as he approached the man. A blade collided with the hilt of his wakizashi and grinded to a halt on its cross guard. He pushed the sword away, pulling his katana out in the same motion and decapitating the fool who'd attacked him. He laughed, seeing the other man who'd been with the one he'd killed run away.

He turned back to the real enemy. The man was standing with drawn sword, watching him not with fear, but admiration. The fool wouldn't be admiring his skill when he killed him with it. He walked over, stopping a few steps away.

The man's brown eyes gleamed with amusement. Saito watched the man fall into his stance, his sword placed in a style close to hasso-no-kamae. Wait, he'd seen this before. It was tonbo-no-kamae. The dragonfly stance. This man was using the Jigen-ryu style. Idiot. Now there wasn't even the slightest chance he'd lose.

He smiled, time to die. "Prepare," he leapt. The tonbo-no-kamae was a distraction he realized too late. The man drew his wakizashi as Saito came into his range and just barely leapt back in time to avoid getting slashed in half. Damn it, this was going to be harder than he'd expected. This wasn't Jigen-ryu, but Niten Ichi-ryu. Considerably harder to beat…shit.

He glared, standing from his previous crouch. The man laughed, "Surprised, Hajime Saito?"

"Who sent you?" How could someone or even a well-off group have afforded this man? He wondered on this, whoever was sending all these hitokiri, especially this man, must have been afraid of him. He ground his teeth together; to have hired a Niten Ichi-ryu hitokiri must have been expensive. The two-handed style of swordsmanship Niten Ichi-ryu required limited those willing to learn it, therefore whoever this man was working for must have searched extensively to find him.

He got into the stance for the Gatotsu, half crouching with both knees bent, left arm drawn back holding the end of the hilt and right hand extended, thumb on the blade near the tip. He wondered how advanced his opponent was in the style. Probably higher than a beginner, but surely no Menkyo Kaiden. He had to be carefully not to let the quick moving wakizashi hit him, not that the katana wasn't a hassle too but that would serve as the offensive weapon not the attacking one. He'd formed a plan, time to execute it.

He attacked, the man dodged his attack with the katana as expected. He ducked the incoming wakizashi and with a zori sandaled foot kicking his opponent in the gut. The man stumbled back, caught off guard. He advanced just as the man was recovering and sparkles flew up as swords' clashed.

"Tell me who sent you?"

"Not going to happen, all you need to know is that death for you is assured," the wakizashi he'd been watching closely stabbed his right leg.

He felt the bite of the wakizashi as it sliced into his leg, blood started to pour onto his hakama. He glared, "If you're not going to cooperate," he hissed, bringing the handle of his katana down onto the man's hand. He heard the cracking of bones with satisfaction. He grasped the hilt and yanked the wakizashi out of his leg. With a swift motion the wakizashi was in the owners face. "I'm going to have to kill you."

The man's eyes widened and in that instant a hand reached for the wakizashi at his side. He'd been prepared for such a move and negated the attack by stabbing the hand with the wakizashi he was holding. The man screamed like an animal and the Lone Wolf of Mibu smiled.

"Now, now, no dirty tricks. Tell me what I want to know and maybe I'll let you live," he smiled pleasantly, placing the wakizashi to the man's throat. He seem to be considering if the fight was worth it with only his katana and his opponent with three weapons. He hesitated, glared, sweat, and then sighed in defeat.

Saito's amber eyes gloated victory for a second before the man's words killed that victory. "There is no life for a defeated samurai," the pressure from the katana faded as he pulled it away and without flinching stabbed himself in the stomach in seppuku fashion.

Saito sighed as he watched the man drop to his knees, pulling the sword across his stomach. His brown eyes looked almost relieved. Saito dropped the wakizashi and acting as his second beheaded him. The head rolled a little ways, getting covered in snow. The red against the white was almost pretty.

He turned to find Satsuki, Haruna, and Yaso, now fully wake, looking at him in horror. Ueda and Kurasawa had missed the fight, both blissfully asleep. He raised his katana, almost as if in greeting and brought it down sharply, shaking off the blood. He sheathed it smoothly and started towards them. Yaso was first to move by standing, "Your leg, Goro-san."

"It's a minor problem." He glanced around, the few people who'd been around at the beginning of the fight had cleared out readily enough. Damn her, why wasn't she here? "Where is she?"

"You mean Tokio-san," he glared at Haruna because of the stupidity of that remark and sat down beside Ueda and Kurasawa's sleeping forms. Yaso was beside him in seconds, her face worried. What was wrong with her? Was she worried about Tokio? No his leg, he realized after a moment.

She went to rip her kimono, but he stopped her with a wave. "Don't ruin a perfectly fine kimono. Didn't Kurasawa just buy you that expensive one?" She didn't drop her eyes from the cloth, he shook off his haori. He ripped it and started to bandage himself. Yaso insisted she'd do it and he let her, he felt a little lightheaded from the lost of blood. He reached for his cigarettes, only to find that he was out. He made a disgruntled face and Yaso stopped thinking she'd hurt him. He showed her the empty pack and tucked it away.

"We should go find Tokio-san," he said.

"You shouldn't move, husband," Yaso tied the bandage, her hands had been shaking but she'd done a good enough job. He smiled, such a silly woman his wife was.

"Wake the drunkards," he told one of the girls. Satsuki did as he said and shook Ueda awake.

"What did I miss?" The man stared at her, the scene behind her, and than at Saito and his leg.

"Enough. Another bloody attack…for my opponents that is."

"Looks like someone actually hurt you too this time."

"It is nothing compared to the Bakufu days. Hardly a scratch."

"Where's Tokio-san?" Kurasawa asked, sitting up. He looked more sober than before.

"No idea." He felt the urge to light a cigarette nag at him, but ignored it. There was a certain someone missing and she was more precious than all the damn cigarettes in the world. Not that any other soul but his own would ever know that. "Let's go visit someone," he mumbled, getting up despite the sharp protests from his wife.

They walked to the house. It was on the outskirts of Gonohe and had several men hanging around outside. Most were either half drunk or completely out of it. There was no need for strong security in a little town where the villagers were too afraid to even look at the yakuza. Because of the high rate of Aizu warriors here the yakuza usually stayed away from them and offered to protect the shopkeepers from the desperate samurai for a little profit. Not that a real samurai would attack shopkeepers, but the yakuza knew how to exploit the truth easily enough. Tonight they would find they'd messed with the wrong Miburo.

He killed the lax guards with two quick strikes. He told the woman to stay outside and went inside with the two men. Once inside they walked down the hall, Ueda and Kurasawa busily looking inside rooms. "Doesn't seem like anyone is using these ro…oms…" He stopped, peering inside a shoji, closed it, opened it again, and slid it shut with force.

Kurasawa raised a bow, "What was inside there?"

Ueda was slightly pale, he shook his head, "You do not want―."

Kurasawa waved him off and looked inside, shutting the shoji with shock when he saw what it was. Saito raised a bow, what morons. He peeked inside, saw a young man and older man fondling each other, and shut the shoji. He wished he had a cigarette.

"Should we do anything about that," Ueda asked as Saito began walking away.

"That isn't evil," Saito remarked, both Ueda and Kurasawa exchanged glances, thinking the same thought they walked a little slower behind Saito. "But they are yakuza."

They exchanged nervous glances. Most of the other rooms were empty. They came across a cat eating some fish left behind on a tatami mat, but the place seemed empty. That was weird.

Saito saw the flutter of a kimono sleeve disappear around the corner and sprinting down the hall caught up with the person. It was a woman carrying empty sake jars. She gaped at the wounded man, dropping the tray in her surprise. He caught the tray and grabbed her. One hand balancing the tray and the other pressing to her mouth. She'd been about to scream, they didn't need anyone finding them just yet. Kurasawa took the tray from him.

"Listen," he barked, "Where are the women or captives quarters? We're looking for a woman kidnapped tonight? Brown eyes, black hair, yellow kimono, to my shoulder in height. Where would they be keeping her?"

He slowly let go of her mouth. Her eyes were blue, he realized suddenly, a strange color for a Japanese woman. He could see the blush on her white painted cheeks. She said softly, "She'd be with the men. They take their enjoyment of the new women right now. I just came from there. I need to fetch more sake…"

"That can be delayed a moment…how many women do they enjoy?" Ueda and Kurasawa looked horrified at the thought that Tokio was probably…being…well… The thought that some man was raping Tokio was not even getting a mental image. He wouldn't even consider the thought. If those yakuza bastards even dared to touch a hair on her pretty head they would find that the rest of their lives would be haunted by a Wolf torturing them. He'd castrate them first, shove the thing so far up their asses they'd be begging for mercy, and than spend a week at least torturing them in other foul manners.

He cleared his head of those thoughts as the girl squeaked. "It depends on how many they take at the fair, but probably three, four, maybe more."

He ground his teeth together, likely there was no saving her from that horror. It had probably already begun long ago in his estimations. He glared at the wall, punched it viciously, cursed swiftly, and turned on the little helpless creature staring at him like a doe would a wolf. "Where are the ladies quarters? Do they return the women after they'd have their fill?"

"Wait, Goro-san, you can't be serious about letting them…do that…to….to…Tokio-san?" Kurasawa was shaking, he was her adopted father so it was only understandable that the idea of her experiencing such mental and physical aguish would bother him.

"As we are we can't take on a large group of yakuza," he really wished he'd had a cigarette at present. "Our best course of action is to wait in the ladies apartment and attack the men who bring them back. Kill them, get her, and get out of here. We'll have to alert the officials afterwards and hopefully all of the yakuza get arrested. If not we can always live to fight another day as it were," he would have been taking a drag at the moment if he'd had a cigarette in hand. "We are limited in what is available to us and can't do anything else. In the Shinsengumi days such an organization wouldn't have existed for this long. But this is a rural town and such outlaws flourish where weak men do. This town should have acted long ago to get these yakuza out of here, but weaklings' usually only do things when scared for their lives. They'd sacrifice their daughters and sons to save their hides. I hate such evil," his eyes were merciless gold orbs that would have killed all of the Gonohe villagers had he been able to. When he turned his eyes on her, the woman squirmed, "Ladies apartment? How many times must I ask?"

Her face flushed and she just opened her mouth to gape. "Why don't you just show us and then go serve some sake? Don't breath a word about us and we'll take you with us when we leave, got it?"'

She nodded her head wearily and strolled off down the corridor. He followed, a wolf going into the lair of a pack of flea bitten dogs whose masters had been careless.