Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Stranded ❯ Under the Sakura Petals ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2. Under the Sakura Petals

 

 

In a sick bed, among many other sick beds, was an unconscious Myojin Yahiko who lay almost tranquilly, his breathing stabilized sometime when the night turned to the gray pre-dawn morning. Nurses shuffled by stopping here and there when a groan and moan turned into a barely audible plea.

 

The sliding of the rice paper door let in a Doctor, but not one that belonged to the town, Doctor Kotuku Genjo, the doctor that had been on the train and had taken care until more help could arrive. He had been working all night unable to rest until everyone was helped and even then the rest he had taken for himself had been sparse and far in-between, his nurse, Nurse Ryusaki had been hard pressed keeping up with him. His nurse, who lived in the village, wasn't used to his persistence and the ways of his practice.

 

The pair made their way over the swordsman, Doctor Kotuku had taken a liking to Yahiko's spirit and will to live that he had stayed up most of the night for him alone. They carried their tools to Yahiko's beside then put them down, Kotuku examined him, Ryusaki patiently waiting by his side.

 

The Doctors bushy dark brows knitted together, his mouth moving in as endless torrent of soundless words, meaningless to all but him. Nurse Ryusaki was in an impeccable kimono despite her diligence to the work she was doing. Her black hair was done up in a simple bun on top of her wrinkled forehead.

 

“The concussion on his forehead will heal in time if he lets it. No serious damage occurred so that will help too. He should eat but I don't want to be the one to wake him up,” Kotuku-sensei noted to the nurse as they stood over Yahiko. “I think it's be best if we just let him wake up on his own.” Almost as an after thought, “Ryusaki-san, where are his children?”

 

“Yoko and Hideyo, Sir? They're playing outside,” the nurse answered. “They asked to see him again. They asked to see their mother.” The doctor paused in his ministrations to look into the face of Yahiko, a stressed and painful glimmer to his eyes.

 

“I think they don't fully understand that their mother has passed away. Best to leave that one to their father. Oh, and I checked them last night, they only have minor cuts that are already dealt with so I gave them permission to play outside today.”

 

“With the children of the village?” His old hands glided over Yahiko in his same practiced ease.

 

“Yes,” She looked over her nose at the doctor, “it really will be hard for them.” Doctor Kotuku nodded sadly in agreement. “I just wish there is something more for these people that we could do...”

 

“Pray to Buddha that they find peace and enlightenment.” He said it as though he had said it often enough that it was a ritual.

 

The doctor and nurse left Yahiko's side and moved on to another patient who didn't seem to be breathing. They whispered about him for a minute. The nurse put a red tag on his foot and then continued on down the lists of patients that had drastically accumulated over the night after what had happened last night, but it had also drastically dropped due to either the death of the patient or moving him.

 

Afterwards some of the able-bodied men had searched to see if they where near a town or a village, they found a good sized town with a hospital. The roused the townsfolk up and asked for their help, a couple dozen men came then to help move bodies and people away from the train into the hospital. More had come the following morning and where given the task of identifying the dead bodies. The authorities came sometime after most of the mess had cleared and took control of it. They had telegraphed Tokyo and told them what had happened.

 

…

…

 

Outside under an old, but still beautiful tree, played Yoko and Hideyo with children that lived in the town where their train had been boarded by bandits. A soft whisper of wind blew along the paper ball that they played with. When the wind and the children tossed the ball high enough that the sun would shine through the ball making the colors dance on the laughing children's faces. They played near the clinic where the train victims were being treated, that was where the children found the lonely Myojins.

 

Yoko watched as the paper ball was blown up high above her head, she twisted around underneath it jumping up to bounce the ball along to another playful hand. When she jumped she missed the ball by a hair. Luckily, she thought, there was some one nearby so that it did not touch the ground. The ball was thrown again into the air away from her to others that continued the count.

 

The ball was going away from where she had stationed herself beneath the tree so she chanced a minute to take a breath. She plopped down on the earth, her eyes on the ball. Her brother hadn't done as she had. He chose to follow closely behind the ball. She smiled as Hideyo hit the ball back into the air.

 

“Konnichi wa,” a girl about Yoko's own age shyly stuttered looking at her toes when Yoko looked to her. Her light brown eyes fluttered back to Yoko after a moment. Her hair was a dark brown, Yoko noticed, almost as dark as the bug she had seen earlier that day, The bug had gotten squashed by the ball the only time it had fallen on the ground. “I was wondering, well, what's your name? Mine is Azami.”

 

Yoko smiled widely as she answered, happy to be making a friend, “My name is Yoko, and that over there, “she pointed out her wild little brother, “is my little brother, Hideyo-chan.”

 

Azami sat down next to her, frowning up at the sky until the slurred sound of sandals against the gravel caused the children to look up from their play. All but Yoko and Hideyo recognized the newcomer, rushing over to her to through their tiny frames on her in hugs.

 

“Kikuyu! Kikuyu!” The high-pitched squeals of them rang out. They almost toppled the woman over but they brought themselves back in time. “Have you come to play with us? Have you”

 

She smiled at them, ruffled a few of their hairs, “no, I'm sorry,” she answered their pleadings. She looked sincere. Her dark black hair was pulled back in a bun that was decorated with two glass cranes. Her face was flawless, adding to her gentle and trusting aura.

 

She walked over to Yahiko's children bending down with her hands on her knees and smiled, “hello, my name is Kikuyu. Are you two all right?”

 

Hideyo scurried behind his older sister, shy of the beautiful woman. Yoko looked as if she too wanted to hide behind another, but she held her ground. “We are all right ma'am, but we were wondering if we could see our Dad.” Her eyes were plastered to the floor where the paper ball had fallen forgotten.

 

“Sure! You can see Myojin-san!” Kikuyu held out her hand along with a warm kindness.

 

Yoko's eyes light up with happiness. They had told her that Hideyo and her could not see their dad until he woke up. “Thank you!” She reached out, letting Kikuyu take her small hand. She took her brother's hand in hers so he would not get left out. “Let's go!” She jumped forward, pulling with her Kikuyu and Hideyo who stumbled at the sudden movement.

 

Yoko paused to look at Azami who was still sitting down but now looked lonelier. Yoko smiled briefly, “We'll return and play some more. Okay?”

 

Azami looked to Kikuyu, and then to Hideyo, she nodded her head when her eyes met back with Yoko's. “I'll wait here for you Yoko! I promise!”

 

Yoko nodded in agreement to the promise that she would return she was happy for the split second she did not have to worry for her mother or father or for her little brother.

 

Inside the clinic Yoko wasn't as spirited as she was outside, she walked meekly behind Kikuyu who lead the way and in front of Hideyo who had become, if at all possible, more hesitant as they got closer to their father. Yoko would squeeze her little brother's hand every time they passed someone that wasn't moving or groaning. Just like their Mommy. They weren't allowed to see her yet. Not until they saw Daddy, and not until he saw her first.

 

Kikuyu slowed down, Yoko matched her pass to the older woman's. When they stopped altogether she peered past Kikuyu's shoulder to see her father in a bed like all the other sick people. Her eyes widened, taking in all of the bandages wrapped around him, his nose pocking above the wrappings on his face.

 

Before Yoko could move to her father, Hideyo beat her to him flinging his small body onto his father. “Daddy! Daddy wake up!”

 

“No don't!” Kikuyu yelled, she rushed forward and pulled the boy of his sleeping father. Hideyo didn't put up much of a fight as she knelt down to look him in his eyes. She calmly spoke to him, “Hideyo, your father needs his rest. Please, do not try to wake him.” She talked as though he would not understand, he shook his head yes and looked to the ground.

 

Yoko slid past the quietly, walking to her father's side. She looked upon him with saddened eyes remembering the all too silent people they had walked by. A small hand rested on his bandaged head, caressing down the curves the thick bandages left evident. She closed her eyes against the pain that threatened to dampen her rosy cheeks. “Daddy, wake up soon. `Kay?”

 

The room seemed to get smaller and colder at the same time. Miss Kikuyu hugged Hideyo to pick him up, then shuffled over to the little figure that also needed comforting. They embraced, a stranger among them to bring them together.

 

Kikuyu pulled apart after the snuffling had gone down, patting her own eyes with a blue and yellow-stripped handkerchief. “I believe you two want some time alone. I'll come back soon, and then we can go play outside. How is that?”

 

The two of them looked at her and saw her cheerful smile, which seemed to make everything better, then cheered up. “Okay!” Yoko and Hideyo ran to opposite side of their father, she to his right, he to his left, picking up his dangling hands into their own.

 

…

…

 

A shiver sent a violent pounding to his head that only worsened the chill that permeated through his inner self. Yahiko shifted where he lay, something not quite right with the world. He stretched his hand out to his left where something usually was, but nothing was there. There was not warm spot to indicate resent removal of the missing item; he shifted again in the blankets letting in some of the cold that was not cause of his chill. His scraggly hair lay all over his face as he attempted to look around; he pulled his hand up and smoothed back the hair that fell over his eyes. As his hand roomed over his face he felt bandages, felt as though they were restraining his from moving around and from seeing. He tore them off, revealing on the side of the bandage covering his face a salve that had a relaxing, and calming affect that lulled to him.

 

One thing cute deep into his groggy mind: this is not home.

 

He tried moving but his head started swimming, again, and his vision became spotted. His weak and weary muscles collapsed at the weight he put atop them. Yahiko fell back on top of the foreign bed, in the foreign room. He fought to keep his breathing under control, his fear tacking leaps and bounds as his thoughts turned to darker murmurings. He could hear other people around his, others that seemed to be in the same predicament as he himself was in.

 

An image came to him. Of a train, and an old friend. But he couldn't place it with anything. Nothing made sense and nothing seemed to be going to make any sense any time soon. Yahiko shook his head to clear it, trying to think on more pressing matters than a false memory.

 

An immobile man occupied the futon to the side of him with bandaging around his left arm that had a red blotch in the middle. A sick feeling settled in Yahiko's gut, he pressed a hand over his mouth and the other one over his stomach to keep himself together.

 

Yahiko picked up on a male voice across the room from where he lay, not being able to tell if its hostile or not he silently leaned down. Slippers shuffled down the room but they never came close to him so he didn't bother with it any more. He concentrated on remembering what was going to happen to him, where he was, and what happened last night, which was a big blank. The man left the room after a while and no one else had come in or left so it was just Yahiko and the others that seemed to be in the same, if not worse, condition of him.

 

His head feeling better Yahiko stood up from the futon and took in the full length of the room and everything else inside it. He swayed as he walked down the perfectly even walkways to place his hand over the thin rice paper door. It easily slide open to reveal a plain hallway with not a hint of sound either way so Yahiko makes the decision to search the right side.

 

Yahiko rounded a corner, down a ways from the door, but his feet didn't land where they were supposed to or something for the first thing he saw after he felt pain in his head was the ceiling. He lay on his back somewhere in the middle of the floor. The bright lights from lanterns danced beautifully before him for wait seemed like hours before receding. He heard some noise at his feet. Then a head popped into his line of vision.

 

“Oh My! You . . . must be one of them…” The man looked well off, he wore a western style suit that looked expensive, and outlining his mouth was a white-streaked mustache that was counterpart to his peppered hair that was solid white at his temples. He wore a look of consternation on his face that only befuddled Yahiko some more. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yahiko? Is that you?” The voice sounded shaky and old, a perfect match for the man behind it. The man that Yahiko first saw backed away giving room for the other who touched the back of his hand against Yahiko's head. His bare mouth frowned in consternation.

 

It didn't calculate in Yahiko's mind that this man knew his name, only that his hands were welcome against his forehead. “Yeah… Its me…”

 

The men pulled Yahiko over to the wall where they propped him up against the wall so that he would not be on the floor. When they finished they crouched down on either side of Yahiko, each had a hand on his shoulder so that he wouldn't slide back down. They exchanged words and concerned glances. The man in the suit carefully leaned Yahiko to other side then left. The pair was silent for the duration that they were alone.

 

The man in the suit returned shortly with another man in a workers garb. The new man heft Yahiko onto one of his broad shoulders, then followed behind the man in the suit to the same room that Yahiko had awoken confused in. The man laid Yahiko on his futon, was thanked by both men, and then departed out of the room. Yahiko fell back asleep in the comfortable warm of the futon…

 

A weight, an immovable weight to the left… another immovable weight to the right… they won't go away… Yahiko's eyes fluttered open, sleep leaving them. Bolting up in the futon he saw, in the dim candle lit, two little forms asleep on either side of him. Yoko was laying on her back, her black hair framing her face. She was clutching his arm in her small arms like a child would a favorite toy. A little drool escaped her parted lips. He eased his arm out of her grasp, then looked to his son. Hideyo was sucking his thumb, his other hand curled around the blanket.

 

“Ah, your awake now.” The soft feminine voice brought his head up from his children's faces. She looked to Yoko and Hideyo. “When they heard that you had waken up they rushed over here, to your side, not wanting to leave until you were awake again. They ate dinner,” she motion to two empty bowls, then a third one that was filled with rice and vegetables, “there's some there for you, too, Myojin-san”

 

Yahiko's stomach growled at mention of food, he wondered when the last time he at was. “Thank you. Dinner? It must be later than that now…”

 

“It is late, but don't think of that now. You should eat.” She brought the bowl of food and chopsticks to Yahiko so that he would not disturb Yoko or Hideyo. As she was retreating to the edges of the bed he noticed twin cranes that pulled her hair into a bun.

 

He picked up the chopsticks and bowl murmuring a genuine thank filled “thank you,” before stuffing his mouth. The food did wonders to his empty stomach, warming him up. He didn't feel the emptiness until it was filled. Soon the food was gone, but he still wanted more. He set the empty bowl with the chopsticks sticking half in, half out, resting his knees.

 

“I can take that for you, “She added uncomfortably, “if you want,” she pointed with her eyes to the plain green bowl in his hands.

 

Yahiko's hand clenched unconsciously around the bowl, he did not need to be babied. What he did need to know is what had happened. “No, no thank you that won't be necessary.”

 

“Please, I insist! The doctor, I believe that you are familiar with him, Doctor Kotuku, well he said that you needed to recover from the amount of the drug that he put in you.” She noticed the confusion in Yahiko's eyes; she tried to explain as quickly as she could, speaking in a rush barely understandable: “You were in a delirious state last night, calling out in your sleep you woke many other patients. They become quite bothered! He needed to deal with you some how, so he decided that some sake might calm you down but it hardly did that! He needed a couple of men to constrain you, he added a little more than sake to what they gave you.” She looked at him warily to see if he accepted her reason to help.

 

He nodded his head, releasing his death grip of the bowl for a loose fitting hold of the blankest covering him. “Thank you.” A lit came on in his eyes, “What's your name?”

 

Her mood lightened as she rested her hand on her cheek in embarrassment. “I'm sorry, how rude of me! My name is just Kikuyu. That is what everyone on here calls me, and so that is what you will. Rest, Myojin-san, until morning.”

 

The bowl was taken from Yahiko by Kikuyu's small, delicate hands before she backed out of the room with as little noise as a dragonfly did over meadows. Yahiko watched sullenly as she left. He had nothing to do. There as no way he could get back to sleep, and besides, he didn't feel the affects from whatever they gave him anymore.

 

Yahiko untangled himself from the multitude of blanket, and limbs and hopped up to run to Kikuyu-san so that he could at least talk to someone that has a semblance of knowing what is going on. At the doorway he could find no trace of her or anybody else.

 

“Kikuyu-san!” He whispered loudly both ways. He raised his voice ever so louder, “Kikuyu-san! Where did you go?” He cupped his hands round about his mouth in preparation to ask louder when her head pocked around the corner.

 

“What? Do you need anything Myojin-san?” Kikuyu came around, with the bowl still in her hands, to stand in front of Yahiko embarrassing for his outburst.

 

“Ah…”

 

“Come along with me then,” she smiled mischievous; her light tone meant for a child caught red hand trailing mud onto the new tatami.

 

Yahiko trailed behind, she leading the way in silence to the kitchen. Yahiko tried to take in all that they past but his eyes always trailed back to the woman in front of him. Despite her attempt at a docile demeanor her presence was intimidating even for him, an experienced swordsman.

 

In the kitchen Kikuyu put the bowl with the pile of other dirty dishes, then she lead him out to the porch. She sat down on the edge leaving room for Yahiko to sit beside her. He sat down, his hands on his knees and his eyes starring dreamily out to the stars and the dragonflies that danced round underneath. They stayed in companionable silence, content to watch the world around them then to disrupt it with undue chatter.

 

Kikuyu tempted the silence first. “What will,” she started out hesitatingly but gathered more momentum as she went on, “now that you wife is no longer here, here with us? How will you go on living?”

 

Blank eyes stared blankly at her. Yahiko's eyes drew together in a frown, Kikuyu was sorry for asking such a personal question until she was surprised when Yahiko's eyebrows scaled his forehead to his hair line, his eyes wider than any of the children's.

 

Yahiko's hands found themselves covering his face from the horrors that laced their way into his mind; he could not get the image of his dead wife from out of his head. His shrill sobbing scared away the dragonflies and crickets that nested in the grass and air. Kikuyu heard him strangle a guttural reply to the wound on his heart, “Oh, Kami-sama! Help me!” She could stand to see this pain from him. She did the only thing that she knew to do, she gathered him under her arms, like a child, to give him warmth and comfort. She rubbed his back motherly all the while rocking back and forth.

 

“It's alright, it's okay,” Kikuyu told him, “Let it all out.” She hugged him closer knowing all too well how much it hurts to loose the one person to whom you have strived to give your all to, to have them pass by in less than an hour. One of his arms coiled around her for support the other still stuck to stifling his sea of pains. Kikuyu pulled him closer. “I'm so sorry… so sorry!” She continued rocking even after his sobbing and shacking had receded, even after it was late in the night and the crickets and all other bugs returned to their nightly serenades.

 

Yahiko pulled away suddenly, a little more than embarrassed for crying as he did, his blood shot eyes silently thanked Kikuyu as his voice was hoarse. He pulled himself together, stilling his shoulders from shaking now that they left the shelter that she had given him. Sighing he turned back to her with a smile all too well known by him, “thank you, thank you. I-” his voice broke into a quiver, he had to pause and start again. “I don't know what I would have done if… if you hadn't have been there for me when… when...”

 

“I understand. It's late, we should both get some rest.” Yahiko noticed as she stood up to leave, the wet gleam in her eyes that betrayed her strength and courage. She had been crying along side him.