Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Terms of Engagement ❯ Silk and Swords ( Chapter 3 )

Terms of Engagement

Chapter Three: Silk and Swords

 

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Tokio

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“He is just the sweetest thing.” Aoi gushed happily, as Toki kept her smile plastered on her face. “Honestly, I don't care what they say. I just can't believe that Hiro would harm a fly.”

 

Smile still in place, Tokio nodded, privately thinking that if dear Hiro wouldn't even harm flies, his days in the Shinsengumi were going to be tragically limited. The future wives of the Shinsengumi were together for a little unofficial social event, one that Toki had sneakily orchestrated. However, as odd as it sounded, the only missing wife-in-waiting was herself, Tokio, having excused herself with a vaguely worded, and deliberately suspicious excuse of having “intestinal problems.” She was sure that when Saitou heard of it, he would quite probably read in “too lazy to get out of bed to meet the others for a midmorning social gathering.” Instead, she was sitting there, not as Saitou Hajime's future wife, but as a young woman who was thinking of entering into the draft for the next round of marriages.

 

“Oh, Tama is like that too.” Momoiro giggled, fanning herself with her conspicuously expensive silk fan. A gift from Tama, probably.

 

“Matsu is probably the gentlest man I've ever met.” Kiiroi sighed dreamily.

 

Toki revised her opinion as she nibbled on a small confection from one of the many delicate plates that spread across the table. The Shinsengumi apparently recruited accomplished frauds. She knew from her continued information gathering that her own dearly beloved Saitou was a sneaky lying bastard, and he, as captain of the third squad, was setting a high standard for deceitfulness. He must be so proud.

 

Not that she wasn't quite talented in that field. She preened happily in her newest disguise, one of the most deceitful she had yet dawned. She was pretending to be herself, admittedly with a slight alteration in her name, but herself none the less. As sweet, naïve Yaso, the young daughter of an Aizu retainer, she could mingle among her fellow brides, get information that might help her get free of her darling, would-gleefully-hunt-down-any-of-nature's-creatures husband-to-be, and not have to dress or act as Tokio, the half wit bore.

 

Midori cooed, batting her lashes. “Well, Momiji isn't gentle, but…” She trailed off with a lingering sigh, looking naughty. “I'd rather marry a well equipped soldier then a bunny rabbit.”

 

“Mmmhhmmm.” Sumire nodded in agreement. “My Kashi is very well equipped, too. And rather accomplished with his sword.”

 

Toki bowed her head, pretending to be properly embarrassed, and took a flustered sip of her tea. No matter how honest one was trying to be, society still dictated certain lies should be maintained. She vaguely considered, as she hid shyly behind her fan, giving Midiri and Sumire a few choice bits of information about their manly men; such as Kashi, the well equipped tended to spend his afternoons, and sometimes his evenings getting “private performances” from young kabuki actors; or that Momiji, who wasn't a bunny rabbit tended to act like a rabbit in mating season, with a harem of at least a half dozen or so young women, who got frequent private viewings of his “swordsmanship”.

 

“Tama is such a darling, but that doesn't mean that he can't swing a sword with the rest of them.” She patted her hair self consciously.

 

“Speaking of sword swinging, did anyone catch a look at Okita?” Aoi glanced around, as if her sweet Hiro would pop out of the soji screen. “He's the best swordsman in the Shinsengumi, and…” She grinned, “I wouldn't mind seeing him practice.”

 

Momoiro took a sip of tea, grinning. “Those eyes! I swear, I was swooning from across the room.”

 

“Yes, he is cute, in a boyish kind of way, but did anyone look at Saitou?” Midori fluttered her lashes. “Now, there's a man! I wouldn't mind being bitten by that wolf.”

 

Toki could almost feel her ears perk up. While it was a long shot, one of these women might just know something useful that she could use in her fight.

 

“Did you see his fiancée?” Sumire laughed. “She's not going to be getting much sword practice.”

 

Midori nodded. “The look on the poor man's face at the park when we first arrived…” He looked like he'd just been handed a sack of old garbage.”

 

“Considering what he was handed…,” Momoiro wrinkled her nose. “I can't believe that thing is even …female.” She shivered. “I can't even call… it… a woman. Did you see what it did during the tea ceremony?”

 

Toki fought down the urge to preen. The tea ceremony had been brilliant. Poor Saitou, he'd probably have nightmares for the rest of his life about tea, pillows, and porcelain cups. She wondered if the burn on his knee from her pouring scalding tea on him was still bothering him.

 

“I hear that Serizawa is planning on having the engagement nullified.” Aoi whispered. “Think of the embarrassment her family will suffer.”

 

Toki shifted slightly, pretending to adjust her kimono, feeling a jolt of pleasant surprise. “Surely she isn't that terrible. She could have just been nervous.” I can't believe I've done it! Serizawa himself! I should have targeted him in the first place!

 

Midori gave a tiny almost, but not quite, unladylike snort. “She's a cart horse dressed in silk. I doubt she has the sense to be nervous.”

 

“You're being generous.” Kiiroi sighed sadly. “She's a blight on all womanhood, even female horses deserve more regard.”

 

“True. They at least can satisfy a male.” Sumire made a dismissive wave with her hand. “I doubt that swine could satisfy even a pig.”

 

Toki smiled, then quickly hid behind her fan. I did it!

 

“Oh, dear.” Midori reached over and tapped her gently with her fan. “Yaso, don't mind us. We're just being…”

 

“Honest.” Kiiroi frowned. “If Yaso is thinking of marrying into the Shinsengumi, she's going to run into Takagi Tokio, and she should be warned.”

 

“Yes.” Aoi nodded. “Yaso, you stay well away from that…thing.” She looked around at her fellow brides-to-be. “You stay close to us, and we'll make sure that it stays well away from you.”

 

“If they really are going to sever the marriage contract between her and Saitou, Yaso might be the perfect one to sooth Saitou's nerves.” Momoiro nodded.

 

Oh no! I didn't work so hard and make a fool of myself just so that I could land in the same trap I just got out of! Toki shook her head. “Oh, I couldn't presume… After all, he's the third captain…and if she's as bad as you say…”

 

“You'll be just perfect.” Aoi smiled.

 

Sumire shook her head. “Maybe not.” She smiled at Toki. “No offense, Yaso, but Saitou might be a bit more than you can handle.” She nearly purred as she fanned herself. “He is quite a man, and you are…well, very young. He might need someone a bit more experienced, to help him over this tragic episode in his life.”

 

Toki nearly choked on the tea she had been sipping. It was one thing to be insulted as her horrid alter ego, but … her unworldly? Okay, so she hadn't …well… lain with a man, but that hardly qualified her as a social dunce. She could handle Saitou. Easily. Wasn't she doing so now? And she was just as womanly as any of them. More so, if one counted looks and anatomy, which many women did. And if their scintillating conversation was any measure, she was certain she was superior to them on an intellectual level. She sipped her tea as another plan formed in her mind. This one, she admitted, was formed of conceit, but it would be a harmless diversion. After all, it would lead to nowhere. Darling Yaso could always disappear without even a hint of a trace. It was Tokio who couldn't get involved, but Shinoda Yaso, who was nothing more than a figment of her imagination could get as involved as she liked. Indeed, she was going to get very involved. She was going to get Saitou Hajime to fall in love with her.

 

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Saitou

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The horse plodded, each step raising a puff of dust off the road as they trundled along in the wagon. It was dry, it was hot, and it was boring. Nearly as boring as Serizawa's lectures on moral and company pride, which was always one of the few times Saitou could count on catch a solid hour of rest.

 

He glanced sideways at his… companion…for the trip Shinohara, a psychopathic, sword wielding freak, that made him wonder about Serizawa's sanity. Admittedly Takeda was hardly worthy of sympathy, an honorless traitor who was responsible for the deaths of two good men, but Shinohara? He was, if the rumors that were surfacing were true, hardly better. Maybe he should take the opportunity to make the world a slightly better place and take care of both?

 

Probably not. He'd have problems getting mission partners if he suddenly got the reputation of taking off annoying… Wait, this could work for me….

 

“How much longer till the bridge?” Shinohara yawned peering out from under the straw hat he'd stolen at sword point from a passing farmer.

 

“Almost there. The river we're following is the one the bridge crosses.” Saitou kept an eye on his partner, as the man shifted in his seat and resettled his sword.

 

They were supposed to be farmers ferrying a load of rice along the Taketa Highway. However the psychopath he was saddled with had long blown that cover as he casually bullied other travelers, mugged farmers, and displayed his sword to every eye that cared to look at them. So now he was stuck wearing farmers clothes, in a dirty creaking cart, behind a old nag of a horse, next to a fool dressed as a sword wielding farmer. Who ever heard of a sword wielding farmer? Maybe if the revolution was successful every farmer would have a sword to slice his neighbor to bits with every time the cattle strayed, but for now, it was purely moronic.

 

Shinohara yawned again and settled back, “Alright. Wake me when we get there.”

 

The man was asleep in seconds. Saitou went back to watching the horse plod. Farmers and travelers gave him and his sword wielding companion a good wide berth as they trundled up the road. Cattle being driven to market lowed and kicked up more dust. Time seemed to crawl, and Saitou let his mind wander.

 

He'd asked Okita to get someone to look into his blushing, dainty, fiancée before he left. She hadn't seemed that shocked about his humble origins, but maybe if he found out more information about her, he would have a way to persuade her to latch onto someone else…like Okita.

 

He nodded at the thought. His friend had spent the last few days making his life hell with his not-so-sly comments and jokes. Perhaps all he needed to do was to convince her that Okita would be the better choice. Yes. His friend would be a much better choice for his buxom bride to be. Okita was of a good family, was an astounding swordsman, and was charming. A few discreet words to Serizawa about Okita's need to produce an heir quickly because of his illness and that surely his beautiful intended would be the perfect match…after all she was a strong, healthy, young lady.

 

Saitou smiled to himself… Yes, that would work beautifully…

 

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Okita

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Okita stepped carefully around a group of children playing by the side of a building, and scanned the area. Nothing suspicious caught his attention, so he nodded to a passing lady, and continued down the street, searching for a certain tea house. He had taken an afternoon off and tracked down Tokio's uncle, a man named Kojiro Choju . He was, if anything worse than what Saitou had passed along from his fair fiancée. Not only did the man sleep well into the day, but when he was awake, usually spent his time in gambling dens and sleazy tea houses where the lowest of the common women sold themselves. The man had, in the few hours that Okita had trailed him visited two such tea houses, and diced away more money than Okita made in a month.

 

From what information he had gathered, he had no idea what was going on. Apparently, the beautiful Tokio was the heiress to her mother's estate, which was quite sizable. While Tokio was unmarried, her father, or since her father was away in the lord of Aizu's service, her mother's half brother Kojiro Choju, had control of the estate. However, the moment Tokio married, the entire estate would transfer instantly to her husband, Saitou. This left honest, upright Uncle Choju penniless, since he was born from a youthful, and apparently embarrassing indiscretion on the part of Tokio's maternal grandfather, and had been firmly overlooked in the will when that grandfather met his end, leaving his money, lands, and goods to his only child and his infant granddaughter. So why would Kojiro deliberately set out to marry his niece off? He had no other source of income. He was living off her money. He had expensive habits and lifestyle. He had to know that once Tokio was married, his new nephew would most likely cut off all his funds. So why? Why marry her off?

 

Okita shrugged. He carefully looked around, looking for any Ishin, or others who might be lurking around to helpfully relieve him of any spare moments of idle boredom, but seeing none, walked across the street to the small tea house that Kojiro apparently frequented for lunch. Okita, thankful that what few illusions he had about the inherent goodness of mankind weren't going to be completely obliterated in a single afternoon, was relieved that the man ate at a reputable tea house, who actually specialized in…tea. It also was expensive. Grinning at the look that was sure to be planted on Saitou's face when Okita came to him with the bill for this little fact finding mission, Okita stepped into the shop and looked around for dear Kojiro.

 

The man was sitting by himself in the front of the shop, smoking a thin cigarette and eyeing the waitresses speculatively. A delicately painted screen blocked the view of the street outside, but allowed enough light through the thin paper to illuminate the man with a soft white halo.

 

Okita stepped up to him, bowing low. “Hello, I do hope I'm not interrupting you.”

 

Kojiro glanced up at him disdainfully, then looked away feigning indifference. “Can I help you?”

 

“Yes, I'm Okita, a colleague of your future nephew-in-law, since he has been called out of town on a matter of business, he asked me to inquire into the health of his beloved fiancée.” Okita bowed smoothly, keeping his voice as low and pleasant as he could. “I do hope she is well.”

 

Kojiro's attention had snapped to him completely as soon as his reference to Saitou was out of his mouth, the pose of languid irritation dropping away.

 

“Please, join me.” Kojiro waved a hand to the cushion opposite him. “I was just about to have a pleasant tea to sooth my nerves. The day has been rather stressful.”

 

Okita settled himself down with a polite half bow to his host. “Thank you.”

 

Kojiro waved a waitress over and ordered their meal, then turned back to him with a smile. “I am pleased to see that my future nephew shows such care for my niece. She is rather precious to me.”

 

“Yes, Saitou is quite attentive.” Okita watched the man, noticing the absent way the man fingered his sleeves, almost as if he was nervous. “And how is the lovely Tokio?”

 

“Ah, she is a beauty, isn't she?” Kojiro smiled slightly, watching as a young waitress swayed by in her formal kimono. “She takes after her mother.”

 

Okita smiled as he inwardly cringed. Kojiro, with his slender body, high cheek bones, delicate chin, and elegant hands must have taken after his own mother, thus bypassing what could only have been an horrific, if fondly overlooked by the family, trait for dumpy ugliness. It was actually quite charming that a man with apparently few other good qualities still could look at his lumpy niece and call her beautiful.

 

“Her mother must have been lovely.” Okita paused as a waitress set tea down in front of them with a small plate of ohaki.

 

“Yes, quite.” Kojiro bit into one of the small pastries. “And how is my nephew to be? I know that Tokio has been missing him.”

 

“I haven't heard anything, but knowing him, he's fine.” Okita sipped his tea as the waitress placed a dish of chilled somen down in front of them and set out small bowls for them to eat from.

 

“Tokio told me that he's quite a swordsman.” Kojiro waved for him to serve himself. “You do not know how relived I am to hear that, what with…” he nodded toward the street. “…the war, and all.”

 

Okita nodded, “Is that why you chose to marry her to someone in the Shinsengumi?”

 

“Yes.” Kojiro served himself some noodles. “As fond as I am of my niece, I am no protection for her.” He shook his head sadly. “I have begged for my brother-in-law to bring Tokio to Aizu, that it is just too dangerous for her to continue living in Kyoto, but he won't listen.”

 

Okita nodded, feeling a familiar burning tightness in his chest. Not now! Not now, out here in public. If one of the Ishin were to see… “Yes, living in Kyoto right now is dangerous.” He glanced around. Maybe he could get outside, even for a few moments, he could find someplace private till the fit passed. “Speaking of which, I'm afraid you must excuse me for a moment. There is something that needs my attention.”

 

Kojiro went pale, startling as if about to get up. “Should I…”

 

“No, please.” Okita scrambled to his feet, feeling breathless. “It may be nothing. I'll be back in a moment.”

 

He nearly ran over a waitress on his way out the back door, holding one hand over his mouth and trying to suppress the urge to start coughing. He dodged through the kitchen, past startled chefs, and out into the back alley. The only shelter he could find was a small alcove just down the way, which he raced into just as the first cough worked its way out of his throat.

 

Kojiro, slipping silently after the distracted Okita, paused near the entrance to Okita's hiding place, hearing the man start coughing uncontrollably. So it is true. I heard he had contracted lung rot. How interesting… He might be the perfect one. Now to convince Serizawa that sweet Tokio should marry him and not Saitou.

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