Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Terms of Engagement ❯ Hoisted by Your Own Petard ( Chapter 8 )

AN: Hello again. Yes, I am sorry this is late…again. School has started and I couldn't get as much time in as I thought for research and writing.

Terms of Engagement

Chapter Eight: Hoisted by Your Own Petard

Saitou

The small seed he' planted in Serizawa's mind didn't need any fertilizer. It sprang full grown overnight. Saitou spent the morning smirking and reworking his plans to accommodate the new arrangements. It was fine by him. It added to the fun. After all, there was nothing like a captive audience.

“…so therefore the wedding ceremonies will be held tomorrow at noon.” Serizawa glowered at his men, many of which were contemplating various sharp objects and how best to use them on themselves.

“A few, such as Okita, who's family has already requested to attend the ceremony, will be excused.”

Okita looked like he was about to faint with relief. Under a mask of indifference Saitou felt the same. It would ruin everything if Okita married Tokio before he had the chance to. While it was amusing to contemplate Okita's sure to be horrified look as Tokio waddled her well padded self up to him during the marriage ceremony, and his darling's maneuverings to avoid the marriage or encourage the marriage, Saitou didn't feel generous.

“Everyone else will report to the common room to be fitted for their clothing directly after lunch today.” Serizawa nodded to where a small army of tailors stood waiting to the side.

Okita had his head bowed when Saitou got up to leave as Serizawa disappeared back upstairs to his office. Saitou could hear his friend mumbling to himself and occasionally nodding.

“What's with you?” Saitou nudged him slightly.

The younger man looked up at him soulfully. “Saitou, is it bad to pray for your fiancée to die a sudden death?”

“Probably, so don't do it.” He gave Okita a wolf's smile. “Save your prayers of the Batousai.”

“I'll end up married to her.” Okita slumped. “I'm dodging right now, but you can't win a fight by dodging alone. I'll end up… How about praying for me to die suddenly?”

“Don't joke about that.” Saitou yanked him to his feet. “Your parents will take one look at your beautiful bride and that will be the end of your troubles. You just have to survive till then.”

“They are very traditional. They might not…”

“Stop worrying about the future.” Saitou grinned. “Who knows, maybe Serizawa will change his mind again and I'll end up with her.”

Tokio

Toki carefully set the ink bowl down and picked up her brush. She definitely needed more information about Saitou. Her sources had supplied her with an abundance of information about his daily habits, but, as was made so clear last night, she still knew little about the man himself. She needed to remedy that situation as quickly as possible. But how to ask?

May I ask, has Saitou ever shown an unhealthy interest in poetry?

Your pardon, but is Saitou insane?

Please tell me, if you can, has Saitou received any serious blows to the head causing him to become irrationally fixated on mountains and rice?

None of them sounded promising. She tapped her brush against the side of the bowl, then after a second of set it down. She was still too unsettled to write. Last night had been both a triumph and a disaster. Why hadn't she been warned of Saitou's…peculiarities? Not that it mattered. She would be rid of him as soon as she could, fleeing north away from her uncle and the revolution.

She glanced over to where Meido was still resolutely sewing up her wedding garb. She turned quickly around before the other woman could see her and smiled to herself. Last night also had been rather…interesting. She'd never dreamed that she could have any influence on a man. Her life had been ruled first by her father, then by her uncle. Men in general were forbidden from her presence unless she was carefully escorted by one of them and preferably a maid or two to keep her well insulated from any unworthy attentions. The few men she was acquainted with were servants who were too in awe of her and her uncle to be considered more than what they were, shop keepers who repelled her with their crass manners and dirty hands, and her uncle's friends who watched her with hot, disgusting eyes as she served them tea when they visited.

Saitou had, despite his…problems, been the first man she'd ever stopped and noticed. The first whose attention she'd actually courted.

She felt a curl of excitement as she remembered. It had been so simple, so perfect. To see a man react to her, to see the effect she could have, the power she held. How absolutely perfect that the man had been Saitou. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to see Saitou's eyes as they traced her movements. She wanted to see his body react. She wanted to know what more she could do and where it would lead.

She looked back at her brush, gave a semi-guilty look over her shoulder at Meido, then with a grin picked up her brush and began writing. Who cared that Saitou wanted to live on a mountain, she wanted to play first.

Thank you so much for your invaluable advice. It worked beautifully, but now I fear I must trouble you again, if you would not mind. Having caught Saitou's attention, I now need to know…

“Lady.” One of the younger maids called softly from the other side of the screen. “A message has arrived from your much honored cousin.”

Toki smiled. Her much honored cousin was really her informants. Her uncle cared little who wrote to her or who wrote back, women in his view were stupid creatures, so if she and her beloved cousin chose to write six or more letters to each other a day, he brushed it aside as girlish chatter, completely unworthy of his attention.

The smile died fast when she opened the letter. She sat wide eyed and stunned.

Please. Please. Tell me he… Even he could not be so… Amaterasu have mercy. We are all dead.

She looked back at Meido, who still sat placidly sewing.

He's killed us all. We have no choice but to run and hope they kill him first.

The bell ringing that a visitor was waiting outside made her jump. She quickly stuffed the letter into her sleeve and straightened her writing desk, hiding the other letters.

Saitou

He grinned as he stood outside his darling's home. He was waiting patiently for her uncle to receive him so he could get the joyous announcement over with. However, it was taking forever for the maid to return. He wondered for a few moments if his soon to be dear uncle was still in bed. It was after all only late afternoon. He could have chosen to sleep in a little.

He kept a smile plastered on his face as he waited. He was sure that their abrupt marriage would seriously dent whatever plan was forming in her delightful mind. He'd heard about the shopping trip Okita had had to endure, and wondered what she'd have done to him, given the opportunity.

The smile faltered a few seconds when he really stopped and considered. Last night, she'd nearly been more than he could handle. It had taken him an amazing amount self control and determination to not grab her slender form and drag her off to one of the dark, private areas of the park and thoroughly explore every curve and taste her body offered. He still wanted it.

The woman was trouble and he welcomed it, craved it, would scheme, trick, and lie to get it. And the only thing holding him standing waiting and smiling at her door was the thought that she was his. All he had to do was be patient and by this time the next day he could indulge in all the chaos she'd bring to his life.

The maid finally scurried back. “I'm so sorry, but the master has gone for the evening.”

“Tell the lady of the house I am here and Serizawa has commanded her presence.” Saitou felt like bouncing on the balls of his feet like a giddy teenager as he anticipated the look on Tokio's face.

The maid bowed low and scampered off. He had to wait a few more minutes before the maid came back and he was allowed into the house. He was shown out to the garden where Tokio sat with her maid. A few other servants were scattered about doing a bad job of pretending to do garden work.

Tokio got up elegantly and greeted him.

“I am sorry that family was not here to give you a proper welcome.” She bowed low. “I do hope that I may be of some small assistance.”

He felt his hackles go up. He didn't know why, but his instincts were screaming that something was wrong. The servants, while doing a bad job caring for the plants, were hardly a threat. The maid that showed him in was already retreating to the kitchen building for tea. Tokio's maid, and it was Tokio's maid not Yaso's, still looked a little battered, but was hardly dangerous. He felt around with his senses, but no one was lurking around. So that left her, Tokio.

She looked fine, dressed in a silk with a gaily printed obi circling her waist. He couldn't spot any more bruises. As he bowed back, he noted that she kept her eyes down, but that was hardly notable. Her voice… it hadn't been till she spoke that he'd felt…something.

“Serizawa has had some troubling news.” He watched as she folded her hands waiting for him to continue. Was that a tremor? Was she shaking? “The Ishinshishi have learned that the Shinsengumi are marrying and they have been showing far too much interest in who our brides maybe.”

She glanced up to him looking slightly startled. Odd. She usually doesn't give so much away, not without prodding.

“To prevent this, Serizawa has chosen to move our marriage date to tomorrow.” He expected to get another glance at that, but she seemed frozen. “You will need to come with me. Have your maids pack your things and bring them to headquarters.”

She nodded, almost as if she was only partially aware of what he'd said.

“Yaso. Do you understand?” Saitou frowned. His instincts were screaming at him that something was off, Tokio seemed to be suddenly timid, this time he was sure that this time it was not an act, and he suddenly wanted to be out of this house. He wanted both of them out of this house. “We are leaving now.”

“I need to…” She started, almost dazedly.

He caught her hand and pulled. The servants who had only butchered a couple of plants in their zeal to do gardening startled making alarmed sounds. The young maid returning with the tea jittered to a halt. Tokio's maid gasped.

“Now.” He pulled her through the door and down the hall. “I am not waiting for you to end up on an Ishinshishi blade.”

“But… I should…” She gave a feeble pull at her hand, her voice was catching in fear, and he wasn't sure that he was the cause of it.

“Now.”

Tokio

Saitou's room was nice enough. It was comfortable, warm, dry, and smelled pleasantly of wood smoke and food from the kitchen below. The floors, walls, screens, and furniture were all clean and well kept. A small chest stood in one corner with a rolled up futon next to it. Nearby a small stand for holding Saitou's swords stood empty. A window was open looking out over a small courtyard. Comfortable cushions were spread on the floor, and Saitou had had a servant bring up a tray of food for her. It was a nice pleasant place, and she fervently wished she was not there.

They know… He knows… It's only a ruse. He'll come back in here and take me down to that courtyard and…

She looked at the bowl of noodles floating around in a small decorative bowl. How nice. My last meal is soba. How… ironic.

She turned away from it and looked out at the courtyard. A few men were out there talking in the shade of a tree. They were relaxed, making casual gestures and smiling as they talked. One tipped his head back against the tree in a lazy stretch. Either the Shinsengumi were much more hardened than she cared to think, or not everyone knew of the upcoming execution.

The screen slipped open and Saitou walked in. He noticed the untouched food. “You should eat. With all the preparations, you might not get breakfast tomorrow.”

Toki froze then glanced back over her shoulder as he went over to pick up the futon. “Are the others here yet?”

“Hmm?” He paused on his way out the door, the futon in his arms. “No. I have patrol early, so I came to get you sooner than the rest.”

“Oh.” She looked back out the window. “Thank you for telling me.”

She heard the door slid shut again. One of the men walked back inside with a laugh as his friends made some kind of joke. The rest settled themselves more comfortably and continued their conversation.

When the door opened again, a servant came in toting a new futon and bedding. He bowed nervously to her and set the rolled mattress on the ground. He rustled around a few minutes then the screen slid shut.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Saitou's voice made her jump.

He was sitting quietly on a cushion, his amber eyes watching her. She was uneasily aware of his sword laying at his side. So many of her communications had hinted, and even more than hinted, that Saitou often was the one to carry out any executions the Shinsengumi ordered. Thanks to her uncle, it was now very likely she would die on that sword. She had the insane urge to tell him to go out and clean it, that she didn't want her blood mixed with that of some low life traitor, but then again, what was she?

Her actions, taken in the light of her uncle's, could only be interpreted as traitorous. She wasn't going to fool herself. The second that Saitou appeared at the door, she knew her game was over. There was little chance that he wouldn't be able to find out about her duplicity and less chance that he'd listen to her half desperate, half foolish plans. Truthfully, he'd have to be an idiot not to know most of it already. And no one had ever accused Saitou Hajime of being an idiot.

She came and sat politely down in front of him. “What would you like me to tell you about?”

His eyes narrowed a little then he shrugged. “You're maid came with your things.”

He set a stack of letters down in front of her. Her letters. The ones that her informants had written her. Oh, why didn't I burn them…

Saitou

His darling ran a spy ring. It was a relatively harmless spy ring that mainly had to do with men her uncle was likely to marry her to, and female gossip. He doubted that the Shinsengumi were in even the slightest danger from her learning that Okita had a fondness for marinated squid, or that he wasn't a pleasant drunk. The only really interesting thing in it was the letters of advice that her people had written her about how to seduce him, one of which was in written in eerily familiar handwriting. He'd have to send his dear sister a letter thanking her for the pleasant evening he'd had watching Tokio put her advice to use.

Honestly, he was flattered that Tokio went to the trouble. He was also proud of her. His little, brilliant, crafty, beautiful bride could disguise herself, seduce him with only some half witted advice, and run a spy ring in her spare time. He could only blissfully imagine what she would be like with a bit of experience and tutoring. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

“I'm sure you want to tell me about these, Yaso.” He made sure to stress the name, letting her know he knew of her little game.

She didn't touch the letters. “I …ahhh…”

She looked pale, very pale. Her hands were folded in her lap, but he was sure if she reached out to touch the letters, she'd be shaking.

“Yes, Yaso?” He had to suppress the grin that wanted to creep out over his face.

He was even more proud of her when she took a deep breath and faced him. “You can stop that.”

“Stop what?” He could feel his lips wanting to twitch.

“You know I'm not Yaso, so stop pretending.” She looked him straight in the eye.

He managed to shade the delighted grin into a smirk. Nice to finally meet you, Tokio.

“You've been a busy girl, Tokio.” He delighted in stressing her name and watching her eyes flare slightly. That's my girl. Get angry. I like it more than you being afraid of me.

“I had my reasons.” She tipped her delicate little chin up.

“Tell me.”

She looked away.

“Tokio.” He stressed her name, adding a few shades of menace to his tone. “Tell me.”

She jerked around to face him, a trace of fear slipping into her eyes. She looked back down at the letters for a second then sighed. The fear was gone when she looked back up at him.

“Uncle wanted me to marry.” She looked away. “I didn't particularly like the thought.”

“And?” He wanted to hear this. She owed him. For all the nightmares she inspired of eating horrible food, bedding a fat fool of a wife, and spending his life dreading what bit of idiocy she'd do next, she owed him.

“And I wanted to get rid of you.”

“You didn't want to get rid of me last night.” He smirked more when she blushed.

“I changed my mind.”

I changed my mind? Weeks of horror and…I changed my mind? She twists me around her cunning little fingers and has me panting after her like a teenager seeing his first naked woman and … Oh, you are going to pay for that Tokio. “What if I've changed my mind?” He tossed the comment out wondering what her reaction would be. “You're hardly the wife I was expecting.”

She looked back at him calmly. “That's fine. I've changed my mind again.”

WHAT! He fumed silently, berating himself for once again underestimating her. Or maybe he was overestimating himself. He had done a very good job last night with the poet on the mountain gambit.

“I think I'd rather marry Okita.” She calmly reached out and picked up her letters, sorting through them. She picked out a couple and set the others aside. She referred to the letters for a second then offered them to him. “He seems to be a nice man, with a good family, and has no attraction to growing rice on mountains. He's even very good looking, which is always a plus.”

Saitou wanted to start snarling then go off and rip Okita's very good looking face off with his teeth. “Okita…”

“Yes, and we seem to share a few common interests too.” When he didn't take the letters, she put them down with the others. “We both like theater, we both have a fondness for the same foods, and we both like children. Many successful happy marriages have been founded on much less.”

She seemed happy with her decision. He wondered if he should drag her out to a handy temple and get the whole thing officiated that evening, or better, forget the temple and do it the old fashion way. He was sure Serizawa would understand. He covertly eyed the futon as she smoothed the letters down.

“I suppose I should tell Serizawa.” She looked toward the door. “I hope he understands. It was just a girl's foolishness.” She looked back at him with a decisive little nod. “No harm done.”

Tokio

He didn't have the letter. She'd put it in her sleeve when he'd knocked at the door. He didn't know, which gave her more time to put distance between her and her now too dangerous fiancée. She took deep calming breaths and parried each verbal assault. Her little game might still come in handy. If she could buy time, if she could just delay, she could find an escape.

He didn't look happy. She really doubted that any man would, but by treating this as nothing more than a childish whim, she might still dodge the sword stroke. If the worse came about and she couldn't flee, she could marry Okita and when her uncle's actions came to light, she could tearfully claim innocence. If she devoted herself to her husband, if she became the staunchest of Shinsengumi supporters, she might then have a chance.

He destroyed it all with one sentence.

“Why bother when you're marrying me tomorrow.” He said it calmly, as if it was little more than a minor detail in his schedule.

Her mind scrambled around for a second, as she smiled sadly. “I could hardly imagine marrying a woman who does such things,” She waved her hand at the letters, “could really appeal to you.”

He shrugged. “It doesn't matter.” He leaned forward. “And besides, who's going to believe you, Yaso?”

She looked down and realized his hand now covered the letters.

“By the time Serizawa figures it out, you and that twisted mind of yours will be mine.” He picked them up. “Your maid delivered your things and I've sent her away till tomorrow evening.” He picked up his sword and stood. “We'll, of course, be married tomorrow afternoon.” He grinned as he stepped towards the door. “Now, behave, Yaso.” He hung his sword back at his side with a soft caress. “I'd hate for you to come to any harm because of any foolishness.”

Toki sat still as the door slid shut behind him.

He knew. Maybe not everything, but enough.

He had the letters back in his hands. With them, he could go to Serizawa and she'd be taken out to the courtyard and never leave it.

There was no way to get out. The second she fled, he'd be after her with his sharp wolf's nose.

Her uncle was sure to find out, and when he did…

She was going to die.

She only wished she could be braver.

Maybe then Saitou would survive.

Review Please

theablackthorn: I am having lots of fun with these two. It's great to create a character then to see how that character reacts to situations. I put a lot of thought into creating Tokio, trying to get someone who would be a believable match for Saitou. It's great that you appreciate her. Thank you!

 

Research Notes:

Weddings- The old fashion wedding Saitou was contemplating was a simple matter of sleeping with a woman for a set number of nights in a row (I believe three but I can't find the reference in Tale of Genji to completely verify this.) The women would become a “visiting” wife and it was considered a valid marriage. The traditional Shinto wedding that they are planning involves a simple ceremony of the couple drinking three sips of sake out of three red cups in the presence of a priest outside a temple. In one book (Daughter of the Samurai) the presence of the priest and the temple seem optional.

Tokio looking down- Women usually would not meet a man's eyes. It was considered to be too bold, which was to be avoided in all well bred women.

Ink and brush- It was traditional to use a brush to write with and would still be common for decades to come to write letters with a brush. I have given Tokio and her uncle both a pen and a brush since I feel it keeping with his character to have a pen.

Saitou the executioner for the Shinsengumi- The original Saitou Hajime may or may not have carried out this function. His family declares that he did not. However, Kenshin believes that Saitou did this, so I am giving Tokio the same information and staying in RK cannon.

Putting the letter in her sleeve- The sleeves of a kimono are often used much the same way as pockets, so Tokio would have tucked a letter in her sleeve the same way we'd shove a letter into a pocket.